#lukas lamp

[acircusfullofdemons]

https://www.tumblr.com/acircusfullofdemons/786293714261786625/im-back

YOU’RE BACK!!! YIPPEEEEEEE!!! I hope you had a lovely trip 🥺

Wagging my tail and barking at the door the second you open it <3

- @nevermore-grimes (idek why I still sign off with this blog when you know my main but 🤷‍♀️)

Aw thank you! My trip was super fun. Once im settled I'll post pics and stuff.

Unfortunately im stuck at the airport for a bit due to a. well. gate mix up i guess. its fine. Just trying to figure out what to do ...

[kaffykathy]

NHPS when you are about to cycle them.

[rainbow-arrow]

my toxic trait is buying anything relating to luka couffaine on etsy the moment i see it

[pbaz7]

FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 7

paige x azzi

warning: very small mention of blood

word count:7.6k

A/N: Sorry this took so long lol it’s been a long week at work. This fits in a few requests I have for the storyline so hopefully I portrayed it nicely :) Let me know what you think!!

—————————————————————————

Paige sat in the corner of her hotel bed, her body still aching from the back-to-back road games. Her knees throbbed, her eyelids were heavy, and her phone was propped up as she stared at the screen. The soft glow from the bedside lamp barely lit the room, but it was enough to see Lukas’ flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.

He was sniffling, curled into his grandma’s lap, his voice horse as he whimpered, “Mama…”

Paige swallowed hard, doing her best to smile through the ache in her chest. “Hey, buddy. I’m right here. Can you see me?”

Lukas nodded. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and every now and then a rough cough shook his body. His grandma gently rubbed his back, giving Paige a tired look of her own.

“He’s been asking for you all night,” she said softly. “The fever hit hard this morning. He won’t eat much. Just keeps crying and asking if you’re coming home.”

Paige leaned her head back against the wall, blinking away the sting in her eyes. “I’ve got two more games,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m so sorry buddy.”

On screen, Lukas let out a loud cough and whimpered again. “Ma…come home…”

“I want to, baby,” Paige whispered, moving closer to the screen. “I really do. Just a little longer, okay? You’re gonna be so strong for me, right?”

His bottom lip trembled. “I’m not strong without you.”

That broke her. Paige bit her lip and covered her face for a second, gathering herself. When she looked up again, her voice was more steady. “You’re always strong, ok? It’s how I raised you kid. But I’ll be home so soon, and I’ll hold you the whole night, alright? Just like always.”

He nodded again, his curls bouncing just a little before he winced and coughed—this one deeper. His face crumpled in pain, and he whimpered, curling tighter into his grandma.

“It hurts…” he whispered. “Ma…”

“I know, baby,” Paige said gently, her own chest aching in sync with his. “I’m so sorry it hurts. I promise I’d take it away if I could.”

Lukas hiccuped through his crying, then asked , “Can Azzi take care of me?”

“Azzi’s probably busy, buddy…” Paige said gently.

But Lukas just whimpered harder, tucking his face deeper into his grandma’s chest, muffling a soft, “I need her…”

His grandma looked down at him with sympathy, rocking him slightly. “Shh, baby… it’s okay I’m right here.”

Paige rubbed at her face, pushing back her exhaustion. “What if we call her, huh?” she offered quietly. “Maybe just talking to her will help a little.”

Lukas slowly nodded, his eyes red and wet. Paige gave him a small smile. “Okay. Gimme one second.”

She tapped at her phone quickly, her hands trembling a little.

Paige 💗: hey wyd baby

Pretty Girl 💗: just finishing up at the office. why?

Paige 💗: can i add you to a call rq? lukas wants to talk to you.

Pretty Girl 💗: of course

Paige added Azzi to the FaceTime call, the screen adjusting to show both of them—her own exhausted frame in a dim hotel room, and Azzi, still at the office, her hair swept up into a messy yet professional bun with a few soft curls slipping free. The overhead lighting cast a glow on her face.

“Hey, handsome,” Azzi cooed, her voice instantly full of affection. Her eyebrows knitted when she saw the state he was in. “Oh, sweetheart…”

Lukas stirred at the sound of her voice, lifting his head from his grandmother’s chest just as a rough cough shook him again. He whimpered at the pain, his face flushed and his eyes glassy with tears. “I miss Ma Azzi,” he sniffled miserably. “I don’t feel good…”

Azzi’s face softened further. “I know, buddy,” she said gently. “I miss her too.”

There was a pause, Lukas struggling through another coughing fit before saying, “Can you take care of me while she’s gone?”

Paige opened her mouth to respond, already preparing to explain that Azzi was probably too busy, that she was working—

But Azzi spoke first, cutting in with quiet clarity. “Is that what you want?”

Lukas nodded desperately, clinging to the idea like it was the only thing keeping him calm.

“Then of course I will,” Azzi said with a smile on her face.

On the screen, Lukas coughed again, his small frame curling tighter into his grandmother’s arms as he winced. His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Can you come get me now?”

Paige sat up, her tired body suddenly alert, the protest slipping from her lips before she could stop it. “Az, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Azzi interrupted. “But I want to.”

That silenced Paige. Her heart thudded in her chest as her throat tightened. All she could do was nod.

Azzi turned her attention back to Lukas. “I have to finish a few things at the office, okay? But you get some rest for me, and I’ll be there soon.”

Lukas blinked heavily, sniffling. “Can we watch the movie with the snowman?”

Azzi gasped, her eyes going wide in mock excitement. “Of course we can watch Frozen! You know that’s my favorite too.”

A faint, sleepy smile pulled at Lukas’ lips. He gave a nod, his eyes fluttering closed, comforted by the promise.

Azzi smiled softly at the screen as she watched Lukas fight to keep his eyes open. “Alright, sweet boy,” she whispered. “You get some rest for me, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

Lukas gave a small nod, his long lashes heavy against his flushed cheeks.

Paige leaned in a little closer to the camera. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”

“Night, Ma…” he mumbled.

Paige’s mom offered a grateful smile as she reached forward and ended the call, leaving just Paige and Azzi on the screen.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the faint sound of Azzi’s office in the background and the low hum of the hotel room AC. Paige rubbed a hand over her face, eyes falling closed for a second.

Then she opened them and looked at Azzi, who hadn’t taken her eyes off her.

Azzi’s eyes were warm as they held Paige’s through the screen. “You look exhausted, baby.”

Paige shook her head, leaning back into the pillows. “I’m good, gorgeous,” she murmured, even though the shadows beneath her eyes and the way she blinked a little too slowly told a different story. Her blue eyes, usually so clear and bright, were dulled with fatigue.

Azzi didn’t press her. She just tilted her head, watching Paige like she wished she could reach through the phone and touch her. “What can I do to help?”

“I’m good, baby,” Paige repeated, her voice soft as she spoke to Azzi. “Don’t worry about it.”

Azzi exhaled a short sigh, the corner of her mouth twitching as she set her phone up on a stand, freeing her hands. “Good thing I didn’t ask if you were good,” she said, her smile growing wider. “I asked what I could do.”

That earned a tired smile from Paige, her lips quirking as she let her eyes fall closed for a second. “You’re annoying,” she mumbled affectionately.

Azzi chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that.”

They stayed quiet for a moment—connected only through the soft hum of their screens. Paige blinked slowly, her tired eyes tracing the details of Azzi’s face. Azzi was still in her office clothes, her button up always slightly undone towards the end of the day. Her curls that were purposefully left out of the bun framing her face. Even with the overhead light behind her, her eyes looked soft. Present.

“I’m tired, Az,” Paige finally admitted.

“Physically or mentally?”

Paige sighed as she let her head rest back against the pillows, considering.

“Mostly physical, I think,” she said slowly, voice a little hoarse. “But maybe mentally too. I don’t know.” She shifted her body trying to get more comfortable. “My body just feels out of sorts on this road stint for some reason… and Lukas is sick and I can’t be there for him, and I still have two more games before I can sleep in my own bed…it’s just—”

“It’s a lot,” Azzi cut in gently, finishing the sentence for her.

Paige’s eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry. She just nodded, lips parting like she might try to speak again, but instead letting the words fade in the quiet between them. The silence settled until Azzi spoke.

“I want you to start seeing me.”

Paige blinked, lifting her head just enough to give Azzi a tired grin. “I’m tryna start seeing you too,” she mumbled, her tone clearly suggestive despite the exhaustion in her voice.

Azzi rolled her eyes, even though the corner of her mouth twitched. “Stop being horny.”

“Not possible with you,” Paige mumbled, eyes closing again, the smile still tugging at her lips.

But Azzi didn’t take the bait this time. “I want you to be one of my clients, baby.”

Paige opened her eyes slowly, the humor from a second ago fading. “Az,” she said gently, “I’m good. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“I wasn’t really asking.”

Paige let out a soft, tired laugh, her head falling back. “You so bossy woman.”

Azzi smiled, tilting her head. “You love that about me.”

Paige hummed in agreement. “Mmmm.”

“I’m serious though, P.”

Paige opened her eyes with a sigh. “I don’t wanna add to your workload.”

Azzi didn’t seem to care about Paige’s protest. “Like I said—I’m not really asking.”

Too tired to argue, and knowing Azzi wasn’t going to budge anyway, Paige finally gave in, lifting a hand lazily. “Ok just let me know how much to tell my advisor.”

“That’s not happening either.”

Paige groaned dramatically. “Baby, I’m not going to not pay you.”

“You literally refuse to let me pay for anything ever. We both already have more money than we know what to do with. So the money going from your account to mine won’t do anything; but you letting me take care of you will.”

Paige laughed softly. “You’re too good to me.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just actually good enough for you.”

That earned another soft laugh from Paige, her eyes blinking slowly, the weight of exhaustion finally starting to pull her under. She mumbled something incoherent and Azzi leaned in a little closer to the screen.

“Go to sleep, beautiful,” she said.

Paige’s voice was barely above a whisper now. “Stay on the phone with me ight?”

Azzi smiled at her softly. “Okay baby.”

There was a beat of silence before Paige mumbled, “I love you mama.”

Azzi’s voice was quiet as the nickname made her lower stomach flutter. “I love you.”

With a soft exhale, Azzi muted herself, letting the call go silent so Paige could drift off undisturbed—but she stayed there, still watching over her, even from halfway across the country.

Azzi quietly finished up the last of her notes, fingers flying over the keyboard as she rearranged her schedule for tomorrow—clearing her day entirely besides a few check-ins which she could do from home. Her eyes flicked down to the screen occasionally where Paige’s face, now peaceful and still, rested under the dim glow of her hotel bedside lamp. Azzi smiled at her softly, the kind of smile reserved only for her.

Once everything was set, she closed her laptop and stood, gathering her bag. As she stepped out of her office, her receptionist glanced up and spotted the FaceTime.

“Oh my god,” she said under her breath with a grin. “You’re actually sprung.”

Azzi just laughed, completely unbothered. “Goodnight, Kelly.”

“Tell Paige I said get some rest,” Kelly yelled teasingly after her.

Azzi just shook her head and made her way to the elevator, heels soft against the polished floor. When she got downstairs her black SUV was already parked at the curb, her driver stepping out to open the door for her.

“Evening, ma’am.”

“Hi, Ben,” Azzi said, slipping inside. “Can we head to Paige’s place first please?”

He nodded, closing the door behind her. “Of course.”

Azzi settled into the seat, glancing down at the screen one more time—Paige still asleep, warm in a bed hundreds of miles away. Azzi exhaled, the city lights beginning to pass as they pulled away from the curb, carrying her a little closer to home.

When the car came to a smooth stop outside of Paige’s house, Azzi glanced at the screen one more time—Paige still asleep, the FaceTime running, and the soft sound of her breathing filling Azzi’s AirPods. She looked up at Ben. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Stepping out of the car, her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she made her way up the familiar path of the large house. She rang the doorbell and waited, rocking slightly on her feet as the porch light glowed above her.

A moment later, the door creaked open, with Amy standing there. “How are you, sweetheart?” she asked, stepping forward to pull Azzi into a hug. The height difference made it a bit awkward with Azzi’s heels on, but neither of them seemed to mind.

Azzi smiled into the embrace, holding her gently. “I’m good, ma’am. How are you?”

“Oh, please,” Amy said with a soft laugh, waving her hand as she pulled back. “Call me Amy.”

Azzi nodded, stepping into the familiar home. “Yes, ma’am—I mean, Amy.”

Amy closed the door behind her and lowered her voice slightly as they walked toward the stairs. “He’s upstairs in his room. Fell asleep not long after the call ended. Poor thing’s still a little warm. But I already packed his bag for you, and I’ll grab his extra car seat for your driver.”

Azzi turned to her, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Amy just gave her a smile. “He’ll be happy to see you in the morning.”

Azzi nodded, quietly making her way up the stairs, each step slower than usual so her heels didn’t make too much noise. The hallway light was dim, casting soft shadows on the walls as she gently opened the door.

When she stepped into the room, the soft glow from the nightlight cast a warm hue across the walls. Lukas curled in the middle of the bed in his dinosaur pajamas, a small wrinkle between his brows. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead, and his chest rose and fell in slow, slightly uneven breaths.

Azzi’s expression softened as she moved closer, crouching down beside the bed. She gently brushed his hair back from his forehead, careful not to wake him, her fingertips barely grazing his skin. “Hey, buddy,” she whispered, not expecting an answer—just letting him know she was there.

Moving quietly, she reached for his green Crocs by the edge of the bed and slipped them onto his feet. Then, leaning down, she slid her arms under him and lifted him into her. Lukas stirred in her arms but didn’t fully wake up—just nestled his warm face into the crook of her neck, letting out a little sigh as he settled there.

Azzi pressed a kiss to the side of his head, then reached for his small duffel bag, slinging it over her shoulder. With Lukas secure in her arms, she made her way back downstairs, each step careful making sure not to jostle him too much.

At the bottom of the stairs, Amy was waiting. She reached out to take the duffle bag from Azzi’s shoulder. “Let me get that for you,” she said gently.

Azzi offered her a warm smile in return. “Thank you,” she whispered, adjusting Lukas slightly in her arms, making sure his head stayed tucked against her shoulder as he slept.

They walked together to the car, the night quiet around them—Paige not having any nearby neighbors.

“She really appreciates you,” Amy said after a quiet moment, glancing over at Azzi. “You’re really good for her.”

A smile grey on Azzi’s face, her eyes flicking toward Amy. “She does so much more for me,” she said sincerely.

Amy laughed a little, shaking her head. “She’ll kill me for saying this, but…she talks about you nonstop. And when I say nonstop it’s nonstop…Azzi said this, Azzi said that, Azzi loves those, Azzi would give me an earful about this. It never ends.”

That made Azzi laugh—quietly but genuine—as she gently opened the car door. “Yeah?” she said, raising a brow as she leaned in to settle Lukas into his car seat.

“She thinks she’s being subtle,” Amy added with a shake of her head.

Azzi laughed again, her hands working carefully to buckle Lukas in, tightening the straps just enough, double-checking the fit. She lingered for a second, brushing a bit of fuzz off his pajamas before standing up and closing the car door softly.

Amy, still standing nearby, glanced at her with a more sincere expression now. “How is she really?”

Azzi paused, eyebrows pulling together slightly as she turned to look at her. “She’s doing…okay,” she said, a bit uncertain, sensing something deeper in Amy’s tone.

Amy nodded slowly, folding her arms across her chest. “I just worry sometimes,” she admitted. “She loves to help everyone else and be there for everyone else, but she doesn’t let people help her. It gets overwhelming for her sometimes—but she refuses to tell anyone. She’s been like that since this basketball thing all started.”

Azzi’s expression changed, a sad but understanding smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured, “I noticed that pretty early on.”

She reached into the back seat, grabbing her phone.She unlocked it and she turned the screen toward Amy. The camera showed Paige curled in the hotel bed, her lamp still glowing dimly. Her face was relaxed, loose strands of blonde hair falling softly across her cheek, mouth slightly parted.

Amy’s face melted into a smile. “That’s my girl,” she whispered.

Azzi looked at the screen for another second, her gaze lingering on Paige, then turned back to Amy. “She likes to fall asleep on FaceTime when she has road trips,” she said softly, as if it was something sacred that had grown between them.

“Even though she won’t say it, she doesn’t like being alone. She thrives when she’s around people…especially the ones she loves.”

Azzi glanced back at her phone, her smile growing as she watched Paige shift slightly in her sleep, the glow of the hotel lamp casting warm shadows on her currently scrunched up face. “Yeah,” Azzi murmured. “I’ve noticed.”

Amy stepped forward, wrapping Azzi in a warm hug. “Thank you for being there for her. God brought you into her life exactly when she was ready for someone like you.”

Azzi hugged her back, the words touching her. “Always.”

They pulled apart with quiet smiles, and Amy stepped back as Azzi slid into the seat beside Lukas. She gave one last wave to Amy through the window, and Amy returned it as the car pulled away.

When Azzi got home, her house was quiet, dim, and still. She carried Lukas through the door, his arms curled against her neck, as she padded softly upstairs to her bedroom.

With the ease of someone who had seemingly done this before, she laid him down on her bed, adjusting the blankets around his small body, making sure he was comfortable..

Azzi plugged in her phone, the FaceTime screen still active. Azzi propped the phone against a book on her nightstand, angling it so Paige would be able to see her and Lukas if she stirred first in the morning.

Azzi headed to the bathroom and let the water run hot, the steam filling the bathroom. The shower was long, the steam working its way into her tired muscles as she let her thoughts drift, her body slowly unwinding from the day.

When she stepped out, she padded back into the room wearing an oversized tee. She turned off the light, the only glow coming from the phone on her nightstand.

Paige hadn’t moved much at all. Azzi smiled at the screen and slipped under the covers next to Lukas. Her eyes fluttered closed, Paige’s quiet breathing still filling the room — a soft, distant lullaby that made her miss the blonde just a little less.

…

The next morning, Paige stirred slowly, her face buried in the hotel pillow as the harsh light of morning crept through the blinds. She groaned, shifting under the weight of her own exhaustion, eyes squinting against the brightness that felt too aggressive for how tired she still was.

It took her a few long blinks, her mind foggy, her body sore, before she remembered where she was. The familiar ache in her joints reminded her — another hotel room, another game behind her, another one ahead.

She reached lazily for her phone, expecting to see a black screen or a barrage of missed messages. But when her eyes finally landed on it, still propped up against her lamp, the FaceTime was still going.

On the other end, her screen showed Azzi’s room in soft morning light. Lukas was curled up against Azzi, his body tucked into her side, one of his hands loosely clutching her shirt. Azzi’s arm was draped over him, her face turned slightly into her pillow.

For a moment, Paige forgot about her aching body, her tiredness, the upcoming game, the weight of everything else. All Paige could feel was her heart swelling so much it felt like it might combust.

Paige’s grin was huge before she could stop it — wide, uncontainable, the kind of smile that pulled at her cheeks and made her eyes crinkle. She reached over, not wanting to risk the moment slipping away, and tapped the screen a few times to take a few FaceTime photos.

Each one captured something she wouldn’t let go of anytime soon — Lukas curled into Azzi’s chest, Azzi’s arm thrown around him, both of their faces completely peaceful. Paige’s heart felt like it was humming.

Still smiling, she slid out of bed, groaning slightly as her muscles protested. She brought her phone with her, glancing at the screen one more time before heading into the bathroom. As she turned on the shower the grin lingered — stuck there like it had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

After Paige had showered and was in the middle of brushing her teeth Lukas shifted under the covers, his face scrunching up as another congested cough slipped out. He blinked sleepily, clearly disoriented for a second before his eyes focused on the phone screen.

Paige was half-bent over the sink, toothbrush in her hand and foam in the corners of her mouth. She grinned softly when she saw him and spat gently into the sink before leaning closer to the phone.

“Good morning, big man,” she said quietly.

Lukas sniffled, his curls messy against the pillow, and mumbled, “Ma…?”

Paige’s smile grew. “Yeah, it’s me, I’m here,” she said, her voice going even softer. “How you feeling?”

Lukas just blinked at her, his small face flushed. He nuzzled back into Azzi’s side without answering. Paige watched him for a moment, brushing a hand through her hair as she let out a breathy little laugh and went back to brushing her teeth.

A few minutes later Lukas’s body shifted again, this time more alert as his blue eyes fluttered open. He blinked sleepily at the screen, his hand still clutching a handful of Azzi’s shirt. His gaze landed on Paige, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Paige said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled at him through the screen.

Lukas let out a tiny laugh, hiding his face against Azzi’s side for a moment—before a rough cough pulled him out of it. The sound was enough to make Azzi stir, her eyebrows knitting as she shifted slightly, her hand rubbing his back.

Her voice was groggy as she said “Hey, you okay?”

Lukas nodded, but it was half-hearted, his face still scrunched from the cough. Paige watched the two of them, heart aching and full all at once.

Azzi sat up slowly, careful not to jostle Lukas too much as she continued to rub soothing circles on his back. Her eyes found Paige on the screen, and despite the early hour and just waking up Azzi looked perfect in every way shape or form.

“Good morning,” Azzi said, softly.

Paige picked up her phone, leaning into the camera a little with that lopsided grin she always gave Azzi. “Good morning, sexy.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the way her smile grew. “You brush your teeth with that mouth yet?”

Paige held up her toothbrush to prove a point. “Just did, actually. This mouth’s minty fresh and ready to flirt.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as Lukas shifted and rested his head back on her thighs. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

“Ehh you’re still in my shirt, in my bed, with my kid. So really, I win.”

Azzi looked down at the shirt she’d thrown on after her shower and smirked. “Technically, I’m in my bed. But sure, you win.”

Before Paige could respond, there was a loud knock at her hotel room door, followed by Rickea’s voice yelling through it.

“PAIGE. Bro you been up forever, and I’m starving. What the hell you doing in there, writing a novel? Let’s go grandma!”

Paige groaned glaring toward the door. “I hate it here.”

Azzi laughed, reaching for her phone. “Tell Rickea I said hi, and to eat vegetables for breakfast today.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her. “You really think Rickea’s touching a vegetable for breakfast of all things?”

Azzi snorted. “Fair.”

Paige leaned down toward the phone again. “I’ll call you later?”

“I’ll be here,” Azzi replied, her voice soft. “I love you.”

Paige bit her bottom lip, her eyes soft. “I love you too.” Then she called toward the door, “I’m coming, Rickea, chill!” before ending the call and grabbing her hoodie.

Azzi locked her phone and set it on the nightstand before glancing down to find Lukas already looking up at her, his sleepy blue eyes nearly identical to Paige’s. His fingers still clung to the hem of her shirt as he blinked slowly, cheeks flushed with leftover fever.

She gently brushed the hair off his forehead. “How you feeling?”

Lukas gave a small shrug. “My throat hurts,” he mumbled, his voice a little rough.

Azzi nodded, smoothing her hand over his head again. “Alright, well…let’s get you some medicine and some tea, okay?”

He nodded slightly, then added in a hopeful whisper, “Can you make tea how ma makes it?”

Azzi smiled at this, eyes crinkling as she leaned down just a bit. “She already told me her secret.”

That earned her a weak but real smile from Lukas, his brows lifting like he was impressed.

…

For most of the day, Azzi moved through her house with a quiet focus, her entire day centered around Lukas for the most part. She administered his medicine right on schedule, coaxed him into eating even when he insisted he wasn’t hungry, and carried him into the bathroom, sitting with him on the floor as the warm steam from the shower helped loosen the tightness in his chest.

She rubbed his back while he was curled in her lap, read him a few of his favorite books when he seemed restless, and let him pick the afternoon movie—his choice, of course, being Frozen. Of course Azzi didn’t complain once. She sat beside him, humming along with the songs, answering every quiet “Why?” that came from his congested voice.

By late afternoon, Lukas had perked up enough to start making specific dinner requests—one of which involved ingredients Azzi didn’t have at home. After a little back and forth, and a soft “Please, can we go?” from Lukas that involved his best pout he could muster, Azzi finally gave in.

Now they were at the grocery store, Lukas sitting in the cart with a small box of tissues in his lap, his nose still a bit pink from the day. He clutched a crumpled list they’d scribbled together at home, taking his job as “dinner planner” very seriously.

Azzi pushed the cart slowly, one hand resting gently on his back as she navigated the aisles. “Alright,” she said, glancing down at him with a smile. “What’s next on our list?”

Lukas squinted at the crumpled paper in his lap, his finger tracing over the letters with all the confidence in the world—even if he couldn’t quite read them yet. His brows furrowed in concentration.

Azzi leaned over to peek. “Ahh yes,” she said, smoothly. “Noodles.”

Lukas nodded immediately, like that had been what he was going to say all along. “Ah yes. Noodles,” he repeated, mimicking her tone.

Azzi laughed, the sound echoing softly through the aisle. “Perfect,” she said. “Can’t make dinner without noodles.”

Lukas smiled proudly, clearly pleased with his “reading” skills, then looked up at her and whispered like it was a secret, “We’re doing good, huh?”

Azzi grinned down at him. “We’re crushing it actually.”

They were almost at the end of another aisle, Lukas happily holding chocolate chip cookies in one hand while Azzi scanned the shelf above for the right brand of sauce, when he suddenly tugged on the edge of her sweatshirt.

“Who’s that?” he asked softly.

Azzi looked down, then followed his gaze.

Jasmine was a few feet away, standing near the end of the aisle like she had just turned the corner and stopped short. Her eyes were fixed on Azzi and Lukas, not quite readable, but far too intent.

Jasmine’s gaze flicked down Azzi’s frame, a quick once-over not meant to be subtle. The effectiveness of it was questionable considering Azzi’s height when Jasmine stepped closer to her.

Before Jasmine could open her mouth, Azzi straightened her posture and turned toward her. “Let’s not do this, okay?”

Jasmine blinked, her lips twitching up like she was trying to figure out which version of herself to play. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, tilting her head in faux confusion.

Azzi didn’t take the bait. “You’re an adult, correct?” she said evenly. “So please let’s act like it. We’re not about to play whatever game you’re thinking of with a child around.”

Jasmine’s expression didn’t change, but the mask cracked just enough for the tension to show. She looked between Azzi and Lukas again, clearly debating if she was going to say something more — maybe even to him. But in the end, she didn’t.

Instead, she fixed her gaze back on Azzi and offered an insincere smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tell Paige I miss her,” she said, before turning and walking back down the aisle.

Azzi exhaled slowly through her nose, jaw tightening for a brief second before she schooled her expression and turned back to Lukas.

He was still looking in the direction Jasmine had gone, his eyebrows furrowed, lips parted like he was about to ask something.

“Who’s that?” he asked, eyes flicking up to Azzi with innocent confusion.

Azzi didn’t even pause long enough for him to register the weight of the question. She gasped, eyes widening dramatically. “Wait! We forgot the ice cream for dessert!”

Lukas immediately perked up, eyes going wide. “Ice cream!”

Azzi grinned, pushing the cart forward. “Come on. We can’t go home without it. Chocolate or vanilla?”

He was already thinking about it, bouncing slightly as the awkward tension of moments ago melted into excitement, and Azzi was grateful he didn’t press her further.

…

Later that evening, the living room was dark except for the soft glow of the TV and the small light Azzi had on from the hallway. Lukas was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, a bowl of ice cream melting slowly beside him, completely forgotten every time the camera cut to Paige.

Azzi sat on the couch, one arm draped along the back, her eyes bouncing between the game and the little boy mimicking every move.

The Wings were up by a few, but the game was tight. Every possession felt like it was important, and Paige — even with the fatigue visible in her eyes �� was locked in. She wasn’t getting downhill as much tonight, instead staying in her comfort zone, pulling up from the midrange after realizing the coverage.

Each time she hit one of her smooth, one-legged fades, Lukas rose to his feet, mirroring the movement as best as he could, his tiny socked feet sliding a little on the rug.

“Ma’s doing the thing!” he yelled excitedly, launching himself into another imitation of her fadeaway. “That’s my ma’s move!”

Azzi chuckled, watching him wobble as he landed on one foot. “That is your mom’s move,” she said. “Looks like someone’s been practicing.”

Lukas grinned over his shoulder at her, then turned right back to the game as Paige sank another jumper — this one just outside the elbow, hands falling at her sides.

“Buckets,” he whispered, eyes wide with admiration.

Azzi’s own smile lingered as she watched Paige jog back down the court, breathing hard but composed.

Even through the rhythm of her midrange game, it was clear Paige nor the Wings as a whole were getting the whistle they deserved. A few of Paige’s shots came with obvious contact — a bump on the hip, a swipe across the forearm — and each time, she landed shaking her head at the refs even if the shot went in.

After one clear no-call, Paige shook her head, her hands dropping to her sides as she turned toward the ref with an incredulous look. Her voice didn’t carry over the broadcast, but the frustration in her expression as she spoke to the ref said enough. She muttered something under her breath, her jaw tight as she jogged back on defense.

Lukas sat up straighter. “That was a foul!” he yelled, pointing at the screen, echoing his mom’s indignation.

Azzi smiled behind her hand. “You saw that too, huh?”

“She’s getting hit and they’re not even calling it,” Lukas said, crossing his arms just like he’d seen Paige do before.

Even as the refs swallowed their whistle, Paige kept at it — brushing off the contact, adjusting midair, and knocking down shot after shot.

At one point though Paige’s frustration boiled over, the slew of missed calls piling up. She dribbled at the top of the key before driving toward the basket after a screen from Dijonai, looking to get something out of this play — but once again, as she went up, the contact came.

A sharp hit of an elbow to her face sent her reeling. Paige stumbles back, landing awkwardly but somehow managing to keep her feet under her. She leaned over, pressing her hand to her eyebrow, pain searing through her face.

"Ma!" Lukas shouted, pointing at the screen as Paige stumbled but stayed on her feet.

The TV camera cut to Paige, her hand quickly covering her eyebrow as blood began to trickle down. She didn’t even seem to care about the pain — only the fact that this wasn’t the first time she’d been hit tonight without so much as a whistle.

“Are you fucking for real?” she muttered under her breath, but the words didn’t stay quiet for long. With the blood dripping faster down her face now, she moved toward the ref.

When she reached him she let out, “Seven fucking years in this league and I still can’t get a call?!” she yelled, gesturing at her bloody face.

The ref seemed unphased, but Dijonai and Arike, who had been right behind her, grabbed at Paige, trying to pull her back before things escalated further.

Azzi didn’t take her eyes off the screen as Paige gestured at her bloody face, yelling at the ref.

Lukas looked up at Azzi, his small hand tugging gently at her sleeve. “Is Ma okay?” he asked.

Azzi looked at him before her eyes flicked back to the screen. “Yes, don't worry. She’s just...she’s just mad because they aren’t giving her the right calls,” Azzi said. Azzi watched as Dijonai and Arike pulled Paige back again.

Azzi watched the scene unfold, Paige’s jaw clenched as the Wings' trainer hurried to cover her face with a few towels, trying to tend to the heavy bleeding. But Paige didn't give up on arguing with the ref, her frustration boiling over despite the clear injury. The broadcast cameras followed her every move.

Seemingly having enough of hearing Paige’s mouth the ref slapped her with a technical foul.

All Paige could do was laugh in complete disbelief and amusement, like the situation was so ridiculous that it was almost comical. Paige grabbed the towel from the trainer to cover her face herself, walking back toward the tunnel, her jersey untucked as she made her way to the locker room.

Despite everything, Paige still managed to hit her teammates’ hands, giving a half-hearted high five here and a pat on the back there, Rickea offering something that made Paige laugh as she made her way towards the tunnel.

The commentators started to echo what Azzi had been thinking all night. “This has been one of the worst officiated games of the season, and it’s a shame the Wings have had to play through this,” one of them said, shaking their head. “I mean, how can you let that kind of contact go without calling a flagrant, let alone a common foul?”

….

Later that night Paige’s face popped up on the screen just as Azzi swiped to answer the call. She stood up from the couch, careful not to disturb Lukas who had fallen asleep, curled up on the couch. She walked into the kitchen, the soft glow of the dim lights in the living room casting a faint shadow on the walls.

"Hey, you," Azzi said, her voice soft, but with a touch of concern as she looked at the screen.

Paige’s smile appeared through the phone. "Wassup," she replied, the exhaustion from the game clear in her voice but still holding room for her familiar charm.

Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s eyebrow, a few stitches clearly visible from the cut.

“How many?”

Paige gave a small shrug. "Three. I'm ight, though. Was mostly just pissed off."

Azzi let out a small laugh, though her concern was still there. "Yeah, I saw." Azzi leaned against the counter, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the phone case, her gaze still on the screen. Paige smiled at her, her tired eyes softening.

"How's Lukas?" Paige asked.

"He's feeling better," Azzi replied. "He knocked out on the couch after you didn't come back in the game."

Paige huffed out a laugh. "I don't even know if that kid likes basketball for real or if he just likes it when I'm playing," she joked, the fatigue in her voice carrying through the phone.

"Only one more game."

Paige huffed out a quiet laugh, running a hand through her hair as she shifted slightly. "Feels like I've been gone forever," she mumbled.

"You have."

Paige let out a sigh, the exhaustion of the season settling into her bones as she leaned back into her chair. The connection between them, even through a phone screen, always felt as if they were in the same room, both sharing the same understanding.

Azzi spoke up again. "I saw Jasmine at the store today."

Paige immediately sat up, her posture alert as her eyes narrowed slightly at the screen. "What?"

Azzi quickly rushed to calm her down, not wanting her to get too worked up. "Nothing happened, I promise," she reassured her. "She came up to us, but I shut it down before she could say anything."

Paige let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension in her body faded. "I'm sorry, baby," she murmured, the words slipping out without much thought.

"What have I told you about apologizing for other people?"

Paige laughed in return, a small, breathy chuckle. "I know, I know," she replied, shaking her head a little. The two of them stayed quiet for a moment Azzi just watching Paige who had her eyes shut, soaking in the peaceful moment.

But after a second, Paige’s eyes opened and her gaze drifted, her eyes scanning Azzi’s face, taking in the subtle details—the curve of her jaw, the way the light caught in her hair, the softness of her lips. Her gaze traveled down to Azzi's chest, where the rise and fall of her breathing caught Paige's attention, her eyes darkening just a little.

A quiet groan escaped Paige's lips before she even realized it, the sound full of longing. "God, you’re killing me baby," Paige whispered under her breath, the mix of frustration and desire clear in her voice.

Azzi laughed softly, her voice smooth. "I didn’t even do anything," she said, a small smirk forming on her lips.

Paige’s eyes flickered over her for a moment before she let out a soft sigh, her tone almost strained. "Just feel like I’m finna explode anytime I see you…anytime I think about you. Been too long."

Azzi hummed at this, a quiet sound of acknowledgment as she propped her phone up on the counter. She leaned over slightly, shifting just enough so her chest became more visible on the screen. Her gaze locked on Paige’s as she spoke. Her voice was low and almost too casual. "You miss me?"

Paige didn't hesitate before nodding, the ache in her voice carrying through the speakers. "Yeah," she whispered, her eyes drifting down just a little, caught by the movement of Azzi’s chest as she leaned in closer.

Azzi watched Paige’s reaction with a mix of amusement and satisfaction, her smirk growing. "Good," she replied, not offering Paige anything else. She held the moment there, her gaze still steady as she watched Paige stare directly at the valley of her chest.

Paige closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she muttered something under her breath, too quiet for Azzi to catch.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping her lips. "What was that?"

Paige shook her head, her voice muffled as she answered, "Nothing, man."

Azzi grinned as she leaned in slightly. "Just pretend they're mine."

Paige opened her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips knowing what Azzi was referring to. "Azzi, I’m too grown for that shit."

Azzi laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Alright then," she said, still grinning. "If you say so." She leaned back, her gaze still looking at Paige.

Paige shifted to the bed, leaning back against her pillows, propping one arm behind her head. Her gaze flickered to Azzi with a deliberate smile. "Aight at least tell me how much you want me."

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "Is that not going to make it worse?"

"Prolly. But I can’t ever pass up having my ego stroked by you."

Azzi rolled her eyes dramatically, shaking her head. She leaned in slightly as she responded, "Alright, fine. You’re amazing. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. You have that annoying confidence that drives me insane, and honestly? I can't ever get enough of you."

Azzi paused for a moment, a smirk creeping onto her lips as she closed the distance between herself and the camera a little more. "But if you really want to hear how much I want you...” she let the words hang in the air, her gaze flicking over Paige’s slowly. “I always want you, I’m talking every second of every day I think about the feeling of you. About how good you make me feel, how you touch me just right every time, how I feel when I’m in your arms after and you tell me how good I was for you." She leaned in closer. “And I promise when I finally get to be with you again, I won’t let you forget how much I’ve been craving you every night."

The words hung in the air, the tension suddenly a little thick, as Azzi let them sink in, waiting for Paige’s response.

Paige tightens her jaw, shaking her head and muttering, "Never mind, I'm goin to bed."

Azzi laughed, leaning back from the camera. "Aww, don’t get all grumpy on me now. I was just getting started. I didn’t even get to tell you about what I want you to do to me when you get back."

Paige rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond, clearly brushing off the playful tease. Azzi sensing the retreat smiles, picking up her phone and adjusting it in her hand.

"Alright, alright," Azzi teases, trying to keep things light. "I’ll let you get to sleep. But seriously, tell me about your day first? Other than the whole, you know, elbow-to-the-face situation."

Paige exhales softly, relaxing back into her pillows, feeling the familiar warmth of Azzi's voice. "It was fine. Long, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Just tired now."

The conversation shifts easily, like it always does—talking about their usual day-to-day things, the game, little details of their routines. Both of them find comfort in the sound of the other’s voice, something calming after the day they've had. Azzi listens as Paige slowly winds down, her voice quieter now. The call stretches on quietly, the only sounds being their soft voices and the occasional noise of the world outside from Paige’s hotel window.

[corroded-hellfire]

I can't remember if you already answered or wrote this, but when was the first time Ryan and Luke called reader "mom"?

+ AYW request for ya--Eliza has started saying "mama," which prompts Ryan & Luke to discuss what they call Reader and whether or not they want to call her "mom."

+ When was the first time Reader referred to Luke & Ryan as her sons and when was the first time Luka & Ryan called Reader their mom?

+ What was the first time like when Ryan and Luke started calling Reader "mom"?

+ What was the first moment like when Ryan and Luke first called Reader "mom" or how did the Munson boys react when she called Ryan and Luke "my sons"?

I love how so many people wanted to see this 💜 This does get kind of cheesy and corny at the end (more so than usual), but I couldn't get the song out of my head while writing this, so it gets put in lol

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Say it again, say it again,” you gush, grinning at your daughter. 

“Mama!” she gleefully replies.

You clap your hands together and she copies your motions with the same enthusiasm. 

“Still making her say it, huh?”

You look up and see your husband leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smile on his lips.

“Like you didn’t have her saying ‘dada’ over and over when she first learned it last month.”

“Dada!” Eliza chimes in. 

“Hi, sweet pea.” Eddie steps into the room and leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

The little girl preens at all the attention she’s getting. Her short legs happily bounce as she wiggles from side to side on the couch. 

“Mama, Dada, Mama, Dada,” Eliza singsongs. 

“My little smarty pants!” You grin and gently tickle her soft belly. 

“You girls have fun,” Eddie says, mussing up Eliza’s curls before heading down the hall. 

“Well, do you want to?”

The shaky tone of Luke’s voice has Eddie coming to a halt a few feet away from the younger boy’s bedroom. 

“I mean…yeah. I think so,” Ryan replies. “Do you think she would mind?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “I don’t think so. But it feels weird to ask.”

“We’ve said it a lot trying to get Eliza to say it. It felt…”

“Good,” Luke finishes for his brother. 

Eddie’s brow furrows as he tries to piece together what’s troubling his boys. He doesn’t intend to eavesdrop on the two of them, but it’s become second nature to pay close attention whenever Luke is talking in case there is a scheme in the works that needs to be foiled. 

“She’s always felt more like our mom than Mom does,” Ryan says. 

The words are the key Eddie needed to unlock the stronghold. It makes complete sense now. The boys have been encouraging Eliza to say “Mama” for weeks now, so they’ve been referring to you in that way in front of their sister. Eddie feels like an idiot for never considering the internal storm that must’ve brewed in his sons. It’s no secret that they feel that you’re their mother more than Brittany ever was, but it’s become so normal for them to just refer to you by name. But Eddie can’t blame them for wanting to use the more official title they’d like to bestow on you. 

Slowly, Eddie walks past Luke’s door, acting as if he was always going this way straight from the other room, without making a pitstop to solve a puzzle. 

A long yawn further reminds you of how tired you are as you pull the blankets down on your bed. Curling up between the sheets is all you’ve been able to think about for the last hour. 

Your husband walks into the room, unhooking the black watch from around his wrist. He’s already comfy in his green plaid pajama pants and holey Dio t-shirt. 

“So, um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Eddie says, placing his watch on his nightstand.

“What’s up? You climb into your shared bed and get comfortable on your side, facing him. 

“Well, I heard the boys talking this afternoon.” Eddie lifts the blankets on his side of the bed and slips in right next to you. He clicks off his bedside lamp before getting comfortable and laying nose to nose with you. “They were talking about you.”

“Me?” you ask, a frown pinching your face. “Did I do something?”

“Not at all, baby,” Eddie is quick to assure you. He reaches out and gently trails the rough pads of his fingers against your jaw. “They were talking about how Eliza finally said “mama” and how they refer to you that way for her.”

Dread pools in your stomach. 

“Oh no. Did that make them uncomfortable? I never asked them to, they just started saying it to help her learn. I feel so—”

“Baby, baby,” Eddie says, gently cupping the side of your face. “No, that’s not it at all. Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” Your face is still pinched up in concern, so Eddie gently rubs his thumb over your scrunched up forehead.

“They were saying that it felt good when they called you that. That you’ve always been their mom more than the witch ever was.”

Love’s warming touch cocoons you in an embrace as you process Luke and Ryan talking about calling you “mom.” It’s not something you ever would’ve forced on them. They call you by your name, it’s been that way since you’ve met. 

“They were wondering if you’d mind. And that it would feel weird to ask you about it,” Eddie adds. 

“The boys…” you trail off, needing to clear the emotion out of your throat before continuing. “The boys want to call me ‘mom’?”

“It looks that way.” Even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, you can see your husband’s grin. It’s contagious. 

“I feel kind of speechless,” you admit. “I never expected it. I mean, they already have a mom. I guess I just thought that was her and I’m…me.”

“Do you not want them to call you that, princess?” Eddie asks, his tone completely devoid of judgment. 

“No, no, it’s not that!” you’re quick to assure him. “I would be…so honored if they wanted to call me that. I just don’t want them to think I’m trying to overstep or take their mom’s place.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a laugh, “they wish you would take their mother’s place. Brittany may have birthed them, but you’ve given them more maternal love today alone than she’s done their whole lives.”

“They’re my boys. My sons,” you say, unable to keep a smile off your face at the words. 

“And you’re the mom they always wanted. The one they deserve.”

That causes the tears to finally spill over. You lean forward and bury your head in the juncture between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. He slips his lean arms around you and holds your body against his own. 

“I’d be so happy if they called me that,” you whisper against Eddie’s skin. “Ecstatic. But I don’t want them to feel pressured to do it.”

Eddie nods, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Why don’t we wait to see if they bring it up? Luke said it would be weird to come out and ask, but they might bring it up in another way. I just wanted to talk to you about it so if they do bring it up, you’re not caught off guard.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” You tilt your head up to gaze at your husband through the pale moonlight shining into your room. “You raised such wonderful boys.”

“You mean, ‘we’ raised,” Eddie counters. “You’ve been around for more than half of their lives now.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday that Luke was four years old and trying to convince me he needed candy to live.” You chuckle at the memory. “They’re becoming little men now, though.”

“That they are,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Guess I should teach them how to use basic tools and shit then, huh?”

“Well, who’s going to teach you?” you tease with a playful smirk. 

“Wiseass,” Eddie mumbles as he rolls you onto your back and hovers over you. 

“I learned from the best!”

It takes just over two weeks for the subject to come up. Eddie is at work, Eliza is spending a little time with her grandpa before he has to get ready for work, and you’re picking the boys up from basketball practice at Hawkins Middle School. 

You step into the gymnasium and are immediately choked by the stench of over a dozen boys going through puberty, and not all of them have discovered deodorant yet. 

Luke is still running around on the court, where a few kids linger, and Ryan is sitting on the bench, talking to a friend. It doesn’t surprise you. Ryan was initially excited to join the basketball team when Luke first brought it up. But now, a few months in, Luke is loving it and Ryan would rather be doing almost anything else. But he made a commitment to the team and Eddie told him it’s the right thing to do, to honor that commitment. So, he’s counting the days until the end of the season. 

You catch Ryan’s eye as you walk over to the sign out sheet, so he says goodbye to his friend and comes over to join you as you scribble down your name. One of the parent volunteers glances down and then smiles up at you.

“Munson?” The perky blonde woman asks in a chipper voice. “You must be Ryan and Luke’s mom.”

Just as she says this, Ryan reaches you and smiles up at you in greeting. 

It’s not unusual for people to assume you’re Luke and Ryan’s mom, so navigating answers like that have become second nature, and in most cases, it’s just easier to say yes. But with this, you see an opportunity to broach the topic with the boys.

“Yeah, I’m their mom.” You grin and wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. See? I’m saying it. I would love for you two to call me that. 

You feel Ryan lean more into you and you breathe a sigh of relief that he’s acknowledging what you said as well. 

“Luke!” The volunteer calls out onto the court. “Your mom’s here!”

The eleven-year-old turns his head in your direction, sweaty curls whipping around, and gives a smile when he sees you. He waves to his friends and jogs over.

“How was practice, boys?” you ask as you head with them toward the gym doors. 

“Good!” Luke says, an extra spring in his step because he’s wearing the new sneakers he just had to have. “I’m getting better at shooting.”

“Atta boy.” You muss his hair, then have to wipe the sweat clinging to your hand on the side of your jeans. “What about you, Ry?”

“Was alright,” he replies with a shrug. “Got bored.”

“Where’s Liza?” Luke asks as the three of you get into the car.

“At Grandpa’s. We gotta go pick her up so he can get ready for work.”

Ryan buckles his seatbelt in the front passenger seat and turns on the radio. It’s quiet except for Stacy’s Mom coming from the speakers as you back out of your parking space and head off school property.

As you pull up to the first red light you’ve encountered, you turn down the music a few notches so the boys can hear you.

“Is that blonde lady from practice a team mom?” you ask.

“Who?” Luke asks.

“The lady who called out to you that your mom was there.” Why do you feel so nervous? This is Luke and Ryan. Your boys. 

“Oh! Yeah, that’s Gavin’s mom,” Luke says. “I think she does sign-ups for if other moms wanna bring snacks or something.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Would you guys want me to do that sometime?” The light turns green, and you start down the main strip of Hawkins, towards Forest Hills. 

“You wanna be a team mom?” Ryan asks, looking over at you. 

“Hell yeah,” you say with a nod. “Show those other moms what it’s like to raise the two best boys in Hawkins. But I’ll only do it if you want me to. I don’t want to embarrass you guys or barge in on your activities or anything.”

“No, it’d be fun!” Luke interjects. “Whenever you bring snacks, everyone will go, ‘Thanks, Ryan and Luke’s Mom!’”

“Um, if you want them to call you that,” Ryan adds softly. 

This is it. The opening you’ve been waiting for. So, why do you feel so tongue-tied all of a sudden?

“Guys,” you speak slowly and deliberately, wanting them to know just how much you mean this, and that it’s not some throw away comment, “I love when people call me your mom. But…does it bother you?”

“No!” They’re both quick to answer simultaneously. 

“We like it, too,” Luke adds. 

You nod and adjust your hands on the steering wheel, psyching yourself up to get the next words out. 

“Listen.” You pause to clear your throat. “If you guys ever want to call me that yourselves, that is perfectly okay. I would never force you to call me that, of course. But if that’s something you’d like to do, that’s good with me.” It’s actually much more than good with you, but you don’t want to bear down too heavily on them. 

“Really?” Luke asks, voice almost as soft as you’ve ever heard it. “We can?”

“Absolutely,” you assure them. “You’re my sons. You can call me whatever feels right to you.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yes.” You say the word with more confidence than you’ve ever said it before. The conviction of the answer rivals that of when you said “I do” to Eddie. 

“I’d like that,” Ryan admits, a sheepish smile growing on his face. 

“Me too,” Luke says.

“I think I just…” Ryan trails off, so you take a quick look at him before looking back to the road. “I think maybe another version of it. Because, like, when I think of calling someone ‘Mom,’ I can’t help but think of her.”

“Yeah, it’s like she ruined the name,” Luke agrees, nodding his head vigorously. 

“That makes sense,” you tell them. “There are definitely different variations of the word. Whatever feels best for you is fine with me.”

“What about, ‘Mother-I-Wish-I-Always-Had?” Luke suggests with a small playful giggle.

“That’s quite a mouthful!” You laugh as well, looking at your younger boy in the rearview mirror again. 

“I mean…” Once again, Ryan trails off, but this time he’s fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt.

“What is it, Ry?” you ask. “You know you can tell me anything. Or ask me anything.”

“Well, it felt nice when we were trying to help Eliza say your name.”

“Yeah!” Luke seconds. “Calling you ‘Mama.’”

“Is that too childish?” Ryan asks, a slight tremble in his voice. 

You turn the car into Forest Hills trailer park and wait until you come to a full and complete stop outside of Wayne’s place before speaking. Wanting to see both boys better, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn your body to look at them from your seat. 

“It is not childish,” you assure him—assure both of them. “I liked hearing you guys call me that, too. When you were helping your sister.” You smile and tilt your head to the side. “I actually feel like that name suits me better than ‘mom,’ anyway. It feels right to me. Like, I’ve been waiting my whole life to be called that.”

“You’re better than ‘mom’.” Ryan confirms with a nod. 

The urge to reach out for him is too strong, so you gently cup the side of Ryan’s face and gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek bone. Luke unbuckles his seatbelt and moves forward—closer to you, signaling he wants the same affection. You’re more than happy to give it to him. 

“You’re my sons,” you tell them. “You’re my everything. You, your sister, and your dad. You guys are my whole world. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So, if you ever want to talk about anything—and I truly mean anything, no matter how weird or uncomfortable you think it might be—you can come to me. I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what. And nothing you tell me will ever change the way that I feel about you. There’s not a force in this world that can do that. You guys are stuck with my love forever.” 

Trying to drive home the point as much as you can, you look them straight in the eyes to make sure they know how serious you are. Ryan nods and gives you a small smile. Luke has unshed tears gathering at his lash line, and when he nods as well, they pool over and run down his cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away for him. 

“Is there anything else? Anything else you guys want to talk about while we’re here?” you ask.

“No,” Ryan says softly but strongly. 

“Nothing for me,” Luke echoes. “Oh! Except that I love you.”

Now your eyes start to fill with moisture. 

“I love you, too.” Your words are quiet because you know if you speak any louder, you’ll start full out crying. “Both of you. So much.”

“Mamaaaaaaaa!”

Little hands pound against the driver’s side window, and you look over your shoulder to see Wayne holding Eliza just on the other side of the car door. She’s leaning in towards you, possibly trying to figure out how to get through the glass.

With a soft chuckle, you roll down the window and raise an eyebrow at her.

“Is there something I can help you with, madam?” you ask. 

“Mama!”

“That’s me,” you tell her. A pleasant buzz in your stomach reminds you of just how true that is. 

“We were waiting for ya inside, but she knew you were out here and was adamant about seeing her mama,” Wayne says, adjusting the one-year-old in his arms. 

“I am sorry I took so long, Your Majesty,” you tell the young toddler. “I was having a conversation with your brothers. Is that okay with you?”

“Mama!” is her only response. Then she pauses, thinks about it, and adds, “Dada!”

“He’s not here, squirt,” Ryan says. “But I think next we have to get you working on my name.”

“Mine’s easier,” Luke argues. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan says with a shake of his head. “She’s learning names from oldest to youngest.”

“She skipped me then!” Wayne laments.

“Cause ‘Grandpa’ is harder to say!” Luke informs him. 

“Alright, Little Miss, let’s get you buckled in your seat so Grandpa isn’t late for work,” you say. 

When you pop open your door, Wayne shakes his head and gestures to the back seat.

“You stay there, I can get her in,” he insists.

Luke leans across Eliza’s car seat to open the back door for his grandfather. Wayne leans in and Luke makes sure all the straps and snaps are out of the way, so Eliza won’t be sitting on any. 

When Eliza realizes her brother is there in the backseat, she squeals in delight as Wayne sets her down. Between the older man and the youngest man, they’re able to secure Eliza snugly in her seat.

Wayne presses a kiss to Eliza’s head and reaches to rub over Luke’s curls before he stands up straight and closes the car door. 

“See you kids later,” he says.

You’re included in that, you know. To Wayne, Eddie is still a kid, which means you’ll always be one in his eyes too. But that is something else that you are perfectly okay with. 

“Everyone buckled in?” you ask. 

The boys answer the affirmative and you shift the car into drive. 

“Let’s go home.”

Eddie was running late at work, so he doesn’t walk through the front door until you’re setting dinner on the table. 

He lets out a long sigh and rubs a grease-stained hand over his face. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” 

You walk over and give him a proper kiss hello, which has his tired face pulling up into a small smile. 

“Dinner’s ready. Why don’t you get cleaned up and then all you have to do the rest of the day is relax.”

Eddie grunts in agreement, nodding his head before he shuffles down the hallway.

You chuckle to yourself as you finish getting dinner on the table.

“Okay, Liza Bean!”

She’s happily roving around the kitchen and living room in her pink walker, but she scoots over to you at the sound of her name.

“Time for dinner.”

You scoop her up and bump the walker with your leg to make it roll into a corner and out of the way. Eliza gets set in her princess high chair and her tiny hands bang on the tray as she awaits her food.

“Gotta wait for the men of the family, you.”

She coos when you press a kiss to the top of her soft, downy baby hair. Eliza continues her drum solo as you take a few steps into the hallway and call, “Boys! Dinner!”

The middle schoolers make it to the table before their father, so you start doling out the food onto everyone’s plates. Eddie saunters out, looking much better and more energized now that he’s no longer covered in dirt and grime. 

Eddie takes his seat at the head of the table and manages to give your ass a light swat as you walk past him. You giggle, despite hearing Luke pretending to gag. 

Once you take your seat, you pick up your glass of water and take a sip. 

“Want some peas, Liza?” You spoon a handful onto her plate, and she immediately grabs one and smooshes it into her mouth.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce?” Luke asks.

Eddie’s breath hitches as his eyes meet yours. The warm and elated smile you give him tells him all that he needs to know for right now. Pressure forms behind his own eyes and he clears his throat before spearing a chunk of meatloaf with his fork. He does his best to push the emotions down for now, but he can’t help but beam from ear to ear. 

“That depends,” you respond to Luke as you pick up the jar of cinnamon applesauce.

“On what?” Luke asks. 

Your grin grows to match Eddie’s.

“Say it again.”

It takes Luke a second but then he laughs.

“Mama, can I have some more applesauce, please?”

“Mama! Mama!” Eliza cheers.

“You guys,” Ryan whines, giving an over-the-top roll of his eyes to show he’s not being serious. “You're gonna drive her crazy. Be nice to Mama.”

You feel as if you could explode from all the happiness growing inside of you. All three of your babies calling you “Mama” right in a row? A giddy light-headedness takes hold of you, and you can’t help but giggle girlishly. 

“I’m Mama,” you say to no one in particular as you hand Luke the jar of applesauce. 

“Well, now I feel left out,” Eddie says, letting his fork drop onto his plate. 

“Mama,” Eliza says, looking at her father.

“Oh yeah, you little wisecracker? Rubbing it in?” Eddie narrows his eyes at her and the baby giggles.

“You can say, ‘mama’ too,” Ryan tells him.

“Ah, I’m not gonna say it just for the hell of it,” Eddie says with a dismissive hand wave. “There has to be a reason.” 

He picks his fork back up, but as soon as he spears another piece of meatloaf, he drops it again, the utensil clinking against the ceramic dinner plate. 

“Wait! I got it,” he says. 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband as he sits up straighter and clears his throat. Whatever is about to happen should be interesting.

“Mamaaaa, just killed a man! Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead!”

Both you and the boys start laughing, which makes Eliza laugh as well.

“Mamaaaa, life had just begun!” Luke continues the song, “But now I’ve gone and thrown it all awaaaaay!”

“Mamaaaa, ooooooh!” Ryan picks up the next piece. “Didn’t mean to make you cry! If I’m not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say as you stand up. “Bravo, everyone.” 

You give a slow clap as you walk over to your iPod dock on the counter. Its music kept you company while you were making dinner, but now it’s about to serve another purpose. Little clicks fill the quiet as you scroll through your small silver iPod and make sure to increase the volume from where you had it before. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do this right,” you say as you come upon the correct song. “And we need to start teaching Eliza how to headbang, even if she doesn’t have a whole lot of hair to whip around yet.”

The moment you press play, the opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody fill the air. As you walk back to your seat, you slowly wave your hands in front of you, as if you were conducting the tinkling music. 

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality

Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see

Luke slides off of his chair and walks on his knees over to you, hands clasped together just below his chin as he sings the next line to you.

“I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.”

His theatrics make you chuckle, and you run your hand down the side of his face. 

Because I'm easy come, easy go

Little high, little low

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me

“Okay, we all ready for the next line?” you ask, tugging Luke up off the floor and half onto your lap. 

Ryan nods and you grin as Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans his head against yours.

“Two, three…” Eddie counts down before everyone at the table—sans the very confused and entertained baby—belts out the next line.”

“Mamaaaaaaaaa!”

[kitkat13001]

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖

>> luka couffaine x reader

>> established relationship, mentions of alcohol, reader is slightly intoxicated, reader and luka are childhood friends, title is from tv girl and jordana’s song “sweet to dream”

“okay, listen. i know for a fact that alix spiked the punch, so maybe it’s that, but also,” you breathe, the words coming so rapidly as you gaze into luka’s eyes. “also, i’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate.”

luka laughs softly, amusement dancing in his deep blue eyes. “is that so?”

you nod probably harder than you should because your head spins and you feel a little dizzy. 

“okay,” luka smiles, his hands warm on your shoulders as he tries to steady you. “you clearly have had too much to drink.”

you giggle, leaning forward to rest against his chest as you look up at him. “can i have a kiss?”

“baby, you are drunk. intoxicated. under the influence.”

“come on,” you whine, “please? just a kiss! i won’ even tell anyone, i promise.”

“oh, just one? you promise?” luka teases. 

“i swear it on my whole heart,” you nod dutifully, words slurring together. 

luka shakes his head and stares lovingly down at you. you try to make your eyes really big and bat your lashes. 

and still, as ridiculous as you must look, luka looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. you’re lost in his gaze as he leans in and you’re almost upset when his eyes flutter closed and you lose the vision of blue. but then his lips are ghosting over yours and your eyes shut too. 

it’s chaste and short and sweet and over before you want it to be. your bottom lip pushes out in a pout and luka just laughs at you again. 

“come on,” he sighs, smile still lingering on his lips as he guides you down the hall. “let’s get you to bed.”

you complain the whole way up but it’s superficial. you’re still floating from the kiss. metaphorically, of course, because your feet catch on every single step on the stairs as you go up to your room. 

“please remind me to never let our friends near the punch ever again,” luka grunts, hoisting you into his arms as you decide that your legs have lost any and all independence. 

you burst into a giggle fit as he heaves you onto the bed, exhaling and blowing a strand of blue hair out of his face, which is flushed from the effort of carrying you up the stairs. 

you try to unlace your shoes but your fingers are wiggling in the funniest of ways and now you’re certain you’re not even touching the laces. luka swiftly undoes them and playfully throws your feet up on the bed. 

“come on, it’s bedtime for you.”

you settle underneath the covers as luka tucks you into them, handing you a stuffed animal like a child. the minute he leans away your heart pauses a beat. “luka?” 

“mm?”

“will you stay?”

“wasn’t planning on leaving, babes,” he chuckles, making himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. one of his hands wanders along the patterns in the blanket, the other reaching to turn of the light. it leaves the room in the dim but warm glow of your salt lamp. 

you hum happily, nestling yourself further into the covers. 

“luka?” you call out softly again. 

again, he hums. “mm?”

“am i your soulmate?”

he chuckles quietly to himself, leaning down to leave a kiss on your forehead. “i’ve known that since i was ten years old, honey.”

his soft and warm voice envelops you and you drift off to sleep with the comforting feeling of him right next to you. 

[reomikagekin]

Hello!! Can I req a luka x reader (theyre dating) where he wakes up in the middle of the night to see reader still studying? Ive been having a lot of assignments and my difficulty to sleep (in the first place) isnt really helping either so Ive been lacking a LOT of sleep. Thank you omg and take your time!!

Rest, My Star

Luka wasn’t a light sleeper. Years of performing, strategizing, and maneuvering through life had trained him to sleep through anything—except for when something felt off.

And right now, something was definitely off.

The bed was too cold. The space beside him was empty.

With a quiet sigh, Luka sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The faint glow of a desk lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the walls. His gaze landed on you, hunched over your desk, surrounded by a sea of papers, textbooks, and notes.

His expression remained unreadable as he silently stepped closer. You hadn’t noticed him—your head was bowed, eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again, fingers gripping your pen like a lifeline.

Luka placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch feather-light. “Still at it?”

You flinched slightly before relaxing, turning to look at him with tired eyes. “I just… need to finish this,” you murmured, voice thick with exhaustion.

Luka’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t need to be a genius to see how drained you were—dark circles under your eyes, fingers trembling from fatigue, and an energy drink half-finished on the desk.

“No,” he said simply, closing your notebook with a decisive snap.

You blinked at him. “Luka, I—”

“Come to bed,” he cut in, voice softer now. He didn’t order you, but it was clear he wasn’t giving you a choice either.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I can’t, Luka. There’s too much to do, and I—”

Luka crouched beside your chair, his face level with yours. His usual sharp, calculated expression softened just a fraction as he took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“You’re no use to anyone like this.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, firm but gentle. “You need to rest.”

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at you, but Luka saw right through you.

"You need to rest,” he repeated, and for once, there was no manipulation in his tone, no hidden agenda—just quiet concern.

His presence, usually sharp and calculated, felt warm now. Protective.

And maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the way he was looking at you—like you were more important than whatever you were working on—but you finally caved.

“…Okay.”

Luka exhaled, relieved. He stood and pulled you up with him, guiding you back to bed without another word. The moment you collapsed onto the mattress, he slid in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist.Just as you were about to drift off, Luka shifted, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmured against your hair. “Not when I’m right here.”

You barely had the energy to respond, but as you melted into his embrace, the weight on your chest finally eased.

Luka wasn’t the kind of person to show his emotions freely. But tonight, the way he held you—like you were something precious—was more than enough.

And for the first time in a while, you felt safe enough to sleep.

[goldfades]

after some…recent events (damn u mavs) i NEEEDDD some luka 🙏🏾 maybe like a comfort or smut fic?

p.s you have kept me FEDDDD w ur wnba/nba fics ILY ILYYYY queen!! ❤️

i wasn't in a smutty mood so here's a hurt-to-comfort fic with luka <3 ily too nonnie!!! hope you enjoy.

The hotel room is too quiet. Too still.

Luka sits on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it’s personally wronged him. His hands are clasped together, fingers flexing every few seconds like he’s working through a hundred different thoughts and not landing on a single one. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows over his face, catching the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint crease in his brow—the kind of details you wouldn’t normally notice when he’s laughing, talking, playing.

But he’s not doing any of that now.

You can still hear the echo of his phone vibrating on the nightstand from earlier. The world is spinning around him at full speed—headlines, analysts, fans dissecting every angle of the trade—but in here, in this dimly lit space that smells faintly of his cologne and something unshakably sad, it’s like time has stopped.

You step closer, carefully. Luka doesn’t look up, but you feel it when he notices you.

"You should be sleeping," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges.

"So should you," you counter, lowering yourself onto the mattress beside him. The bed dips under your weight, and for a second, neither of you speak. It’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s just... heavy.

He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "Crazy, huh?"

You watch him for a moment. The way his fingers tighten around each other. The way his shoulders rise and fall, the weight of the entire day pressing down on him. You could say a lot right now—some perfectly crafted reassurance, something wise and comforting—but instead, you just lean in, resting your shoulder lightly against his.

A small gesture. A quiet offering.

Luka doesn’t move for a few seconds. Then, almost hesitantly, he shifts, just enough that his arm brushes against yours, just enough that he’s no longer holding quite so much of himself alone.

At first, Luka doesn’t say anything. He just breathes—slow, measured, like he’s trying to find a rhythm that makes sense, but it keeps slipping through his fingers. His hands unclasp, pressing against his thighs, then clench again like he doesn’t know what to do with them. The tension in his shoulders is impossible to ignore, so rigid and locked up that you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s holding in.

You don’t push him. Not yet.

Instead, you just sit there, close enough that he can feel your warmth, close enough that if he wanted to lean into you, he could.

After a long moment, he exhales, and it’s the kind of sigh that doesn’t fix anything, just deflates him further. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks, barely more than a breath.

“I didn’t think it would happen like this.”

You don’t need to ask what he means. The trade. The blindsiding weight of it. The way everything he thought he knew shifted beneath his feet in an instant.

“I get it’s a business,” he continues, jaw tensing. “I knew that. I always knew that.”

His voice drops lower, rougher.

“But I didn’t think I was leaving.”

And there it is.

The rawest part of it all. Not the move itself, not the logistics, not even the media whirlwind that’s been dissecting every angle of his future before he’s even had time to catch his breath. It’s the fact that he wasn’t ready. That for all the control he has on the court—for all the ways he makes the impossible look effortless—he had no say in this.

You swallow, watching the way his fingers twitch against his knee, like they want to grip something, hold onto something solid. You hesitate for only a second before reaching out, letting your hand rest over his. He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t react at first. But you feel it—the way his muscles are wound tight beneath your touch, like a wire stretched to its limit.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he murmurs, and this time, there’s something in his voice that makes your chest ache.

Goodbye.

It’s such a simple word, but it carries everything Luka isn’t saying. The years he’s spent in Dallas, the friendships, the routine, the city that had started to feel like home. He wasn’t just traded—he was uprooted. And now he’s supposed to pretend like it’s just part of the game. Smile for the cameras. Say all the right things.

But right now, in this room, there’s no script to follow.

“You don’t have to,” you tell him softly.

His brows draw together slightly, finally glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out what you mean.

“You don’t have to say goodbye, not yet. Not tonight.” You squeeze his hand, just lightly. “Just—be here. Just for now.”

Luka stares at you, like he’s waiting for the catch. Waiting for you to tell him to suck it up, to move on, to think about the future. But you don’t. You just meet his gaze, steady, unwavering, until he finally exhales, something in him loosening just a fraction.

His hand turns beneath yours, fingers wrapping around yours like he’s holding onto an anchor. His grip is warm, firm—not desperate, but grounding. Like he’s only just realizing he doesn’t have to hold all of this alone.

For the first time all night, his shoulders drop slightly.

And you stay like that, in the quiet, just breathing.

Not fixing. Not rushing. Just existing. Together.

Luka doesn’t let go of your hand. If anything, his grip tightens, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away first, like he’s testing the weight of the comfort you’re offering and deciding, for once, to accept it.

His fingers are warm against yours, slightly rough from years of handling a basketball, but there’s something uncertain about the way he’s holding on—like he’s not used to being the one who needs this. Luka is always the one keeping others steady, the one playing through injuries, the one flashing a grin even when his body is screaming for rest. But this? Sitting here, holding your hand, letting himself lean into something softer—this is different.

Slowly, hesitantly, he shifts. His body turns toward you, his knee brushing against yours. His breathing is steady but measured, like he’s still figuring out if he’s allowed to ask for more.

You don’t make him. You just open the door.

Without saying anything, you lift your arm slightly, just enough that it’s clear you’re not just sitting beside him—you’re offering. And for a second, you don’t know if he’ll take it.

But then Luka exhales, long and slow, and leans in.

His weight presses into your side, warm and solid, his forehead dropping to your shoulder like it belongs there. He’s not shaking, not crying, but there’s something heavy in the way he melts against you, like he’s been holding himself together with sheer force of will and finally, finally, he’s allowing himself to let go.

Your free hand comes up instinctively, resting against his back. You can feel the tension still coiled in his muscles, like he doesn’t quite know how to relax, even now. So you let your fingers move in slow, steady circles against the fabric of his hoodie, not rushing, not forcing. Just there. Just present.

Luka exhales again, this time through his nose, and you feel it—the way his body slowly starts to ease. The way his head shifts slightly, resting more fully against you.

“This is stupid,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. Just exhaustion.

“It’s not,” you say simply, your voice soft.

He huffs, but he doesn’t argue. If anything, he leans in a little more.

The room settles into something quieter. Something almost peaceful. Outside, the world is still moving, still spinning with headlines and speculation and expectations Luka isn’t ready to deal with. But in here, it’s just the two of you. Just warmth. Just the quiet weight of the moment.

And then, in a voice so low you almost don’t catch it, he murmurs, “Stay.”

The word is barely there, more breath than sound, but it lands like a tether, anchoring the space between you. You don’t answer right away—not because you’re unsure, but because you want him to feel it, to know that you’re not leaving.

Instead, you shift just slightly, adjusting so he’s more comfortable, your hand still moving in slow, steady motions against his back.

“I’m here,” you say, and that’s all he needs.

Luka exhales one more time, a little softer now, a little less heavy. And for the first time since the news broke, he lets his eyes close.

--

Los Angeles feels different.

It’s not just the time zone or the weather or the way the city hums with an energy that never quite fades. It’s the way everything is unfamiliar—the drive to the training facility, the locker room that still smells like someone else’s cologne, the weight of a jersey that doesn’t feel like his yet.

Two days ago, he was in Dallas. Now, he’s here.

And now, he’s supposed to be fine.

The press conference had gone as well as it could have. The reporters asked the same questions over and over—how does it feel to be a Laker? What does he think about playing with LeBron? What does he want to say to the fans in Dallas?

Luka answered all of them the way he was supposed to. He smiled in the right places, gave the right amount of gratitude, even threw in a joke or two to lighten the mood. But the second it was over, the second the cameras were off and he was back in the hallway leading to the parking garage, he felt it creeping in again.

That feeling.

That hollow, misplaced feeling, like he’s wearing someone else’s life.

You’re already waiting by the car when he steps outside, leaning casually against the passenger door like you have all the time in the world. And maybe you do. Maybe that’s why he exhales just a little when he sees you, some of the tightness in his chest loosening.

You don’t ask how it went. You don’t need to. He appreciates that.

Instead, you just nod toward the car. “You wanna get out of here?”

Luka huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The drive is quiet at first. The city moves around you in golden streaks of headlights and neon signs, the sky just beginning to settle into that deep LA dusk. Luka shifts in his seat, one elbow against the door, fingers resting against his lips like he’s lost in thought.

Then, finally—

“It still doesn’t feel real.”

His voice is softer than usual, like he’s saying it more to himself than to you.

You glance over but don’t say anything right away. Instead, you let the silence sit for a moment, let it breathe.

Then: “Because it isn’t. Not yet.”

Luka looks over at you, his gaze heavy but searching. “And if it never does?”

You tap your fingers against the steering wheel, considering. “Then you figure it out. Day by day. Until one day, it does.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Just watches the city blur past, the weight of everything pressing down on him in a way you can feel, even from where you’re sitting.

And then, after a long moment, he nods. Just barely.

When you pull up to his new place—a sleek but unfamiliar house in the Hollywood Hills—Luka doesn’t move to get out right away. Instead, he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before turning to you.

“You coming in?”

It’s not really a question. Not really an ask.

It’s more of a need. A quiet, unspoken need for something familiar.

You don’t hesitate.

The house is big but empty, boxes still stacked in the hallway, a duffel bag half-unpacked near the couch. Luka walks in and immediately shrugs off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair before dropping onto the couch with a heavy exhale.

For a moment, you just watch him. The way he leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling like it might hold some kind of answer he hasn’t figured out yet.

Then, without thinking too hard about it, you sit beside him, close enough that your knee brushes against his. Luka doesn’t react right away, but then—slowly, naturally—he shifts.

Not dramatically. Not obviously. But enough.

Enough that his shoulder presses into yours, enough that his body angles slightly toward you, enough that he lets out a breath he probably didn’t even realize he was holding.

And just like that, it’s familiar again.

Not Dallas. Not the way things used to be.

But something.

Something solid. Something real.

And for now, that’s enough.

[fictionfixations]

OH MY GOD GUYS I GOT THE ANAKT GARDEN SET AHHHHHHHHHH

warning for major alnst spoilers ofc

I KEEP TAKING PHOTOS THE WRONG WAY AROUND 😭😭😭😭

okay im gonna summarize information

you get these id cards the main peeps of them their birthday blood type number signature fingerprint who their guardian is (i cant tell the difference between them on the card it looks the same to me but idk maybe its alien language)

and it also says what dorm theyre from

mizi till ivan and sua are in buru flower rooms although different ones

(all in buru flower room. sua is in x, till is in c, mizi is a, ivan is d)

meanwhile luka and hyuna are in different rooms which makes me believe its by like year(s) and based on when they graduate from anakt garden or something like that? i forget

according to an interview (of sua and ivan) they're from the 50th anakt garden class

hyuna is chala flower room a, and shes also the only one without a signature

interestingly enough luka is the only one without a letter after the room which i think is because of how im pretty sure hes like a clone or something? like like made and there were many others of 'him' that were made until they found the perfect him to use? im like 70% sure his guardian has also implied it or something in one of the interviews? i think it mightve been regarding either the top three or before luka vs till

i use a translator app and go through it and then (usually) mainly share ones about ivan (as hes my favorite) and include other interesting stuff that doesnt have to relate to him

also there will be some things i just dont mention

well ive only done it once and for like the art book lmfao but yEAH

i keep forgetting which page i read it from so this time im gonna write this post while looking through it to make it easier for me haha

skimming through it though i do see some stuff i think they've posted on the twitter and patreon before though i DO remember there was this one that was blurry and i think i saw it in full here

be warned translations may not always be 100% accurate cause for some reason i take a CLEAR photo of the text and then i take another but zoomed in to more specific parts of the text and it changes the translation so im just sat here like what why does having more context make it worse sob

(future me here what do you mean i can only translate 50 images a day 😭 maybe its my bad for taking so many pictures of the same part but sometimes it translates differently when i zoom into specific parts that make more sense so on parts im confused on i do that a lot)

also in the previous post i tried rephrasing it a lot but at this point its really not gonna work with this

Mizi (1) Her guardian sent a 'lullaby tape' and 'deep sea mood lamp' to help her sleep. She called it 'Shine' or something? I can't be 100% sure but she whined to a teacher about missing it and thus that was sent over.

Mizi/Sua (2) Sua helps Mizi study, and sometimes reads to her, and everytime she does it, "I feel she creates an unknown world for me."

Sua/Mizi (1) Sua was shy and didn't laugh much when entering Anakt Garden, but after meeting Mizi, she laughed a lot.

Sua (2) Children in the Anakt Garden have become more interested in the opposite sex. There are rumors among the children that there is "a tree that can succeed if you confess". Sua seems to be popular with boys as she often goes under the tree.

Sua & Ivan (3) Sua was chosen as an Outstanding Child alongside Ivan in Anakt Garden, an honorable title given to a child who sets an example for others every year. The two will be interviewed and included in ALIEN STAGE MAGAZINE VOL.2.

Sua (4) Recently, Sua's been practicing hard enough to stop crying(?). When asked why, Sua said, "I have to practice more because it's my dream to be on stage with Mizi."

😭i cant tell if its a mistranslation or if its a 'i know the truth about alnst so i want to practice not crying while on stage with her' or something

Till & Ivan (1) Today, Till fought with a new kid named Ivan. He is an aggressive child, so he needs regular education at home. Fortunately, Ivan has generously forgiven him, but I will do my best to prevent this from happening next time.

Till & Ivan (2) Till's theoretical grades have improved a lot! Practical tests are always perfect, but theories have always been weak. In particular, his grades in Religion and Music, which were his most vulnerable, have risen markedly. Is it because some kid has provoked Till recently? He's very competitive, so when he has an opponent he wants to win, he burns!

It's not stated but y'know I'd think it'd be Ivan 💀.

Ivan (1) Ivan is significantly less talkative than other children. He may have a slower language development than other children because he's adapting to a sudden change in environment.

Ivan (2) For an art class on the theme of "The Most Memorable Moment of Life", Ivan painted a sky full of shooting stars on the paper. Each star was drawn carefully, and his concentration was so focused it was like he was being sucked into the paper.

For that I'll refer to the scene back in Round 3 and my post on the artbook where it explained more on Ivan's thoughts and how the shooting stars meant to him it was

(10) in the slums, when being held over like the edge due to the anger of a dealer, he faced the fear of death at such a young age that it stuck with him, that death was always near him. the shooting stars that then appeared stayed with him unconsciously (the translation it gives me is “the ecstasy faced with death took place intensely in Ivan’s deep unconsciousness.”)

Ivan (3) He often observes his facial expressions in the pond before going to school in the morning. I feel the one translated on the patreon (free) has better translations but it only shows a few not all and I remember reading this one as one of the ones included.

Ivan (4) Although Ivan is mature for his age, he is the most childlike when he is with Till. (they fight a lot)

Hyuna (1) Hyuna is a child with gentle charisma. She has a high sense of responsibility, so she takes the lead as class president and takes the initiative in all activities. She does not hesitate to do good deeds, such as actively approaching children who do not fit in well with the Anakt Garden activities, and she is a role model for all children.

Hyuna (2) Hyuna, who loves singing, always sings in front of the children during compulsory playtime. Yesterday, she stood at the base of a tree and sang "Anakt's Lullaby" in an impromptu arrangement, and Hyuna's changed lullaby was popular at "Anakt Garden" for a while.

I've heard people theorize that Wiege is that lullaby.

Hyuna & Luka (3) Luka was hiding in a tree and looking at Hyuna, as if he wanted to play hide and seek with her. Hyuna saw Luka and invited him to play with her.

I usually format it based on whose referred to first but I actually cut off a part of it and its about how Hyuna is popular and then it mentions Luka and then I have no idea what's being said I'm using two different translator apps and they both don't make sense. Perhaps the idea is something like, 'the lonely child Luka, who also excels at Anakt Garden, even memorized her name.'

The translations it gives me call him an only kid, the best in Anakt Garden, and then continues with ", Is Hyuna" or "memorized her name" so above is my best guess tbh 😭 Reasoning? Since idk what they meant by only kid, since it mentioned in the beginning how Hyuna was popular, then if I compare then he was probably lonely (there is also art of him by a tree alone staring at Hyuna who is surrounded by many others), he was also good at his studies and so was Hyuna, and I added even to emphasize that ah Luka didn't really interact with people but Hyuna ended up catching his attention (thus he was staring at her).

Luka (1) Luka always practices until late at night. If there's even a singular thing he can't solve he immediately asks the teacher a question.

Luka (2) Luka won first place in the Anakt Garden singing contest! The children were moved to tears when they heard Luka's crying. The crying sound is clear and sweet, and moves the hearts of those who listen to it. There is a jinx that if you win first place in the Anakt Garden singing contest, you will win Alien Stage, and our teachers are expecting that Luka will win Alien Stage. It is so exciting to imagine Luka growing up day by day.

if I recall Hyuna was second

ooh thats scary the art. dude i didnt even realize there was someone behind him.. its luka whose holding up like a paper and theres two large hands on his shoulders and theres a person in black behind him but theyre so big you cant even see them just their arms and torso wtf 😭

Luka (3)

Luka complained of persistent headaches and hyperventilation during the night.

Physical examination results show abnormal blood flow and lack of oxygen in the body. There is a high possibility of congenital heart disease.

Luka's voice change begins. Intensive care is required to prevent damage to his crying(?) voice. Tea and nutritional supplements that are good for voice will be included in his diet.

one translation is 'crying voice' and the other just translates voice as crying

😭😭😭😭😭

also i cant be 100% sure the translation is right calling it congenital heart disease idk korean and the apps can be inaccurate so take it with a grain of salt

Luka (4) The end-of-month evaluation grades have dropped by 10 points compared to the previous month. Although it is a small drop, in order to prevent this, we plan to select excellent teachers from the Anakt Garden and provide intensive management. We also request periodic discipline at home to prevent Luka from being distracted.

i kind of hate luka but dude this is really making me feel bad for him holy shit 😭 wtf

now its i think graduating from anakt garden and writing messages to people um its a lot of text so idk how im gonna tackle this

MIZI

(two attempts at writing 'Mizi' are crossed out) Hello Mizi, (crossed out) Hello Mizi! You sing really well! If there is an angel, wouldn't it be right here? (crossed out)

I prepared a song for you (crossed out)

Thank you for giving me a recorder when I was little.

It's my only treasure (crossed out)

It's really sad that you're already graduating from Anakt Garden.

Actually, we could have become friends at any time, but I just didn't have time. (crossed out)

How are you. Hi. -Till- ---

What kind of place is the ocean?! I want to go play later too~~! ー????? IDK WHO THIS IS google registers it as jp characters and i think thats wrong so..ー

---

My dream, to Mizi Mizi the jellyfish girl (??) The day we were lying in the Anakt Garden meadow and looking at the stars together You became my dream. Is that why? The time I spent with you felt so precious to me. I have a lot of things I want to say. I feel complicated. (crossed out) I don't know what kind of world will unfold if I leave Anakt Garden, but I hope you will always live as green and free as the sea of summer. I believe this is Sua as there's a part mentioned earlier where Sua and Mizi liked watching the stars together and would sometimes fall asleep there instead of going back to their dorms (i did not mention this earlier thats my bad)

---

Mizi! It seems like you are a child who really loves singing. I am glad I was able to enter Anakt Garden with you and listen to your songs! I hope you will be successful after you graduate! -????-

the characters of the name are not even registered google keeps thinking its the letter m

---

You're so cute because you're quirky and lively! -?????-

---

Thank you for always greeting me brightly every morning. Thanks to your bright energy, Anakt Garden life (?) I think it was fun. Good luck for the preliminary round, and see you on stage. -Ivan-

(at good luck he said 'cheer up' or '힘내' which has like a lot of meaning to it and can be like 'hang in there' and is something Till taught him to do and I think he also said it to Till in an interview I think before their round happened, i just used good luck cause its easier to understand and cheer up in english doesnt have as much impact without that context)

yeah here and there was also the comic by what i meant him like learning it from till

---

.....i have to do this three more times........... hahahahaha hang in there me ....today i learned if you hold the button that takes a picture it will suddenly take multiple pictures of the exact same thing. 💀

---

♥️ SUA ♥️ MIZI (there are multiple hearts drawn over the page and MIZI is written next to SUA with a heart)

(mizi says a lot and as its handwriting its hard for the translation apps to decipher it from the image so bare with me for any errors)

Hello Sua! How are you? Did you know I would say that?? I can't believe you're already graduating, from Anakt Garden. Now that I'm asked to write something like this, I don't know what to write… If I had known this would happen, I would have taken the writing class harder! Then I could tell you everything I wanted to say!! Craft (this is scribbled out) Well I'll put all my memories in this letter ♥️ A moment I was thankful for Sua ♥️

Thank you for secretly eating cherry tomatoes for me when I was a kid and hated vegetables. Thanks for taking my prank well!

Now that I think about it, I think I played a lot. Thank you for helping me with my homework every day. Thank you for always listening to my worries Thank you for handing me a handkerchief when I was crying Thank you for silently comforting me when I failed my test

Thank you for always singing with me Thank you for appearing in my life I'll stop talking here, because we're always together! My dream. Sua, I love you!! -Mizi who loves you so so much-

GUYS IM GONNA CRY

---

I actually still like you. Even though you rejected me, can you think about it one more time? -???? no idea who this is-

dude can you read the room her girlfriend literally took over more than half the page 😭😭😭😭

---

I don't usually say this, but your voice is nice. I hope you do well in Alien Stage. -Till-

---

As an Oustanding Child, alongside you, I'm glad I was able to put my name on the list. I'm sorry we didn't talk much. You've always been an excellent kid, even (maybe 'when you're at') at Alien Stage(?? I can't tell) You'll get a good result. -Ivan-

---

IVAN

Hi! Ivan! I'm Mizi! You're handsome like a prince, you sing well, you study well… Why are you so perfect?! And Sua too… Are there only perfect kids around me!? By the way, I saw your stage costumes were all black a while ago, but I think you look better in white than black! How about wearing white on stage? I'm looking forward to a great performance! -Mizi-

NOT HIM DYING IN WHITE THOUGH. you know what. i bet. i bet he thought huh maybe till will think i look good in white. and then he wore white. AND THEN HE DIED

---

I don't know what to write because I don't remember talking. Take care. Bye. -Sua-

DAMN. girl you know on his stats in the art book he sees you as like a sister right 😭😭 (who am i kidding ive seen your stats too)

---

By the way, when is your birthday? I've never seen you have a birthday party. -just expect me not to include names of anyone not from main cast because I won't be able to tell if it's a mistranslation-

I just envied you so much. That's why I wanted to get close to you. -???-

Actually, I liked you, but we never talked to each other. Take care, goodbye -???-

---

Were you the one who stole the pencil back then? -Till-

😭😭😭 i think theres a note somewhere i dont think i read it in this one but in a previous alnst post about ivan stealing tills things and then returning them because he wanted praise or something

i cant recall if the pencil thing is related to him or if it mightve been related to mizi since sometimes the translation app gets pronouns wrong but i think there was a mention of a stolen pencil and it being returned to someone in here i just dont remember what page. dammit.

---

You are so perfect that it's hard to approach you.

-???-

---

TILL

Hi! Till! You're so good at singing and composing The lyrics and composition are so (she crossed out a word that looks similar to something she then says but I can't tell what it is) I'm so, so jealous of you for doing so well!! I often think of the song you sang at the Anakt Garden Song Contest Come to think of it, you got your ears pierced not too long ago, it looks really good on you! The guitar looked unique on the stage Are you taking it with you? For this performance I'm really looking forward to seeing your performance~!! Way to go! -Mizi-

---

When we were young, we fought a lot without thinking, but now that I'm older, I think I can be a better friend than you think. It seems like separation comes too quickly. I knew it wasn't useful, but I felt a little more intense with you. (crossed out) I hope you remember me. -Ivan-

---

I still remember you getting dizzy and falling over while headbanging at the Anakt Garden singing contest. It was really funny… -???-

---

I'm sure you're talented

-Acorn-

WAIT ACORN??

wait you can see part of the graduation messages on the patreon OH YEAH that was where i read the part of sua's and there was just this whole part blurred out (mizi to sua)

you know what im gonna ignore messages from anyone not of the main cast at this point idk why i did it for so long 😭

wait shit i forgot what i havent translated now 😭

---

Take care. See you on stage. -Sua-

---

IM DONE

OKAY

NO MORE

😭

[dailyadventureprompts]

Mystery: A Light in the Darkness

Seeking to keep their sickly son Luka safe from the dangers of the world, the baron and baroness D'Montria have kept the boy in the tallest tower of their castle for most of his life. Rumour had it that the boy's become a prolific reader as most every night people of the surrounding village could look up and see the tower windows alight with all the candles the boy used to read into the small hours of the night.

The locals knew that something was wrong when the tower remained dark for an entire week. The D'Montria boy has vanished, leaving nothing behind but a guttering lamp and an open window. Now the baronial couple is in a state of panic searching for answers, mobilizing their garrison and offering rewards for any who might have information on where their boy has gone.

Adventure Hooks:

The party's in with the D'Montria family comes in the form of a member of their houshold guard. He's an old acquaintance of one of the heroes, an old family friend, or perhaps a fellow comrade in arms. He was on watch the night Luka disappeared, and while he wasn't in any way involved he knows his captain is looking for someone to blame to show the D'Montrias that progress is being made. Fearful of losing his job, or worse being made into a scapegoat, he's written to the party for help.

It's a fortnight after the disappearance and shortly after the party begin their investigation that a ransom notice arrives, signed by Jacknife Jenny a famous brigand well known for her trickery and ruthlessness. She and her gang want money, and lots of it, before they had the boy over. Not all is as it appears however, as in the course of looking into Luka's disappearance the party will discover some of Jenny's crew skulking about and strongarming folks looking for information.

Krine the bookseller's daughter might have a clue to where Luka might be. She's an odd sort, prone to flights of facy, and the parry will find her trailing them as they investigate. If questioned, she'll claim that despite never visting the castle she and the D'Montria boy have been friends for month. She's an idea where he's gone, but has sworn not to tell, so the party will either need to be clever or very mean to get it out of her.

Background: Luka D'Montria was a fearful child, exactly what you'd expect of someone overly sheltered from a young age and told he was too weak to wether any of life's challenges. He was also deeply lonely, and despite all the things he knew could hurt him in the outside world wished nothing more than to go out and make friends.

The first of these friends was Krine, who's parent's shop was close enough to his parent's castle that they could catch sight of each other's night-lanterns. Casual start and stop "hellos!" and "Goodnights!" became a nightly occurrence, which evolved into full on coded conversations when Trine started slipping hidden notes into the books the noble boy's tutors kept buying for him (the scribbled remnants of which remain in both of their rooms, should the party look).

The second friend turned out to be Tergrid, god of fright, who'd had her eye on the fearful boy for a while and decided to approach him in a dream with an offer; She'd give him the strength to face the world if he had the courage to bear it. Luka accepted, and promptly fell ill for three days, leaving his parents and their physicians to dote on him day and night and leave him swaddled so tightly in bedding he could scarcely move. On the third night, once everyone was tired, he slipped out of his blankets, opened the window to drink in the cool night, and took flight on his new moth wings. He visited Krine for the first time that night, and only left once the dawn threatened to chase him back inside. Not wanting to return to his guilded cage just yet, he left to the nearby forest, looking for a landmark he'd only read about in books.

Challenges & Complications:

The blessings of a fear goddess are not to be taken lightly, nor are they as straightforward as giving a feeble youth the gift of flight. "Strength enough to face the world" amounts to Luka being cursed into a sort of were-moth, growing in might and becoming less human each night as the moon wanes towards new. Predatory and driven to hunt those who wander alone at night, Luka's full feral moth form is not just a threat, it's a sacred beast in service of the goddess who gave him wings. At the same time, the blessing/curse represents freedom to the young D'Montria, and he will be loathe to give it up at first.

Jacknife Jennny's gang found Luka when he blundered into the old fortress they used as a hideout. She'd served under his family as a mercenary before turning brigand, and recognized him from his resemblance to his parents. Initially she was intrigued by the boy's ability to fly, and put on a robinhood style dashing outlaw routine to try and gain the boy's confidence only to try and imprison him for ransom when he saw through her act a few days later. Intrigue turned to fascination when the moon slid to a crescent and the boy escaped one night, leaving several of her best fighters shredded and disembowled in the process. Jenny already wanted to fly, and maybe cheat her former employers out of a ransom, but the idea of being able to turn into a seemingly unkillable monster? Now THAT'S got her attention.

Artist

[marbl3-soda]

My MCSM headcanons (Part 5/5 - Last Part)

-Ivor keeps a diary he secretly hides. Sometimes, he would start by saying to people: "back in my day...".

-Harper is a bit sensitive, and always becomes sad when the plants she keeps die.

-Axel gives out pet rocks to people to be generous.

-Petra would punch and kick a vending machine if her snack was stuck.

-Lukas loves to play uno, but always loses.

-Olivia is learning french and loves squirrels.

-Jesse one time ate a poisonous potato by accident.

-Reuben likes to cover his hooves in mud and print them on paper.

-Torquedawg once broke CaptainSparklez's glasses as a joke.

-Captainsparklez is dyslexic.

-Stampy has an intense fear of doctors and dentists.

-Dan bites his nails when he's nervous.

-Lizzie has a mild allergy to almonds.

-Stacy is bad at handling cats.

-Cassie is a great artist.

-Winslow hides inside a trashcan when it's time for a bath.

-Gill constantly sings for no reason and sleeps with a stuffed animal.

-Aiden is a horrible liar, and he doesn't know long division.

-Maya loves to hit the gym. To be rude as always, she places her chewing gum under people's shoes, and sometimes on their hair.

-Whenever people compliment Stella, the first thing she would always say is: "I know right?".

-Xara keeps lava lamps for comfort.

-Romeo doesn't like children. He finds them annoying.

-Isa prefers sweet over spicy.

-Milo is good at tongue twisters.

-Gabriel takes care of stray animals.

-Soren is not a morning person.

-Magnus always gets noise complaints.

-Ellagaard is awkward at trying to comfort people, but does her best.

[roryradz]

pistol (part three) ⋆. 𐙚 ̊ lukas radzevičius

"you've been on my mind. you've been on my mind so long, i can't deal with it." ⋆˙⟡

warnings : none, really. just me projecting about my irl boyfriend oopsies xx

pairing : lukas radzevičius x (girly, fashiony) female reader.

summary : late night phonecalls.

word count : almost 1k.

authors note : i'm not condoning cheating, i just thought it could be interesting for the storyline of this story if both lukas and the reader had a partner. if anyone minds please lmk xx

it's been nearly two weeks.

two weeks since you met him. two weeks since the last time you saw him. two weeks of missing him but telling yourself you don't.

it's also been nearly two weeks of talking every single day. not just for an hour or two. every spare minute you have is spent texting, calling or facetiming the boy who's since become a regular in both your heart and your mind.

it’s almost midnight when your phone buzzes on the pillow beside you.

akys <3 can i call? or you sleep?

you smile. your boyfriend hasn’t texted you all day — again — but lukas always does. he texts when he eats something good, when a song reminds him of you, when the sky looks pink outside his window.

i’m awake. call me.

he calls within seconds. no hesitation.

“labas,” he says, voice soft and warm. “you okay?”

“yeah. just thinking too much.”

he hums knowingly. “again?”

“always.”

you hear rustling — he’s probably shifting in bed, turning onto his side.

“you need to stop thinking so much,” he says gently. “just… come here. i fix it.”

you laugh. “you can’t even fix your lamp without alanas.”

“yes, but you are not lamp,” he says proudly. “you are girl.”

“wow, what a poet”

he snorts. “shut up. you know what i mean.”

you do. you always do.

lukas never needs the perfect words — he speaks like he means things, and that’s always been enough.

“how was your day?” you ask.

he tells you: rehearsal was long, his brother’s dog destroyed his socks, he ate pasta too fast and choked a little.

he asks about yours and actually listens. asks if you rescheduled that doctors appointment. if your best friend finally gave back your charger. if you’re still drinking the same cinnamon tea at night because you think it helps your brain slow down.

your boyfriend’s never asked about your day.

“you remember everything,” you murmur.

“jo,” he says, like it’s obvious. “you tell. i listen.”

then, a pause.

“that boy, he doesn’t.”

you bite your lip. “what boy?”

lukas exhales sharply, like he doesn’t even want to say his name.

“your boyfriend. the one who did not text to you happy birthday on your birthday until 4pm." he says flatly. “who never takes you on real date, only to his room.”

“lukas—”

“you don’t like it either,” he says. “you say you don’t feel seen. and i see you.”

you go quiet.

he softens his voice. “i’m sorry. maybe rude. but i hate when you are sad and he don’t even know.”

you curl into your blanket. “you’re not rude. just… honest.”

“he don’t get to have you and not try,” lukas says firmly. “you are not… some decoration.”

“you sound mad.”

“i am mad.”

you smile at the ceiling.

“you’re kind of scary when you’re mad in english.”

he laughs. “wait until i get mad in lithuanian. then you cry.”

you laugh too — until it fades, replaced by something quieter.

“i don’t know why i’m still with him,” you admit. “i think it’s just easy. and he was there.”

lukas doesn’t say anything at first.

then: “you don’t need someone who is there. you need someone who sees you. remembers your tea. buys you it when you forget. asks you things. knows when you are quiet that it means something.”

you swallow.

“you need someone who will take you out even if they are tired. who will bring jacket for you even if you say ‘i’m not cold’ because you will be cold and you are just stubborn donkey.”

“is that what you’d do?”

“jo,” he says softly. “of course.”

your heart aches a little.

you think about the first night — standing beside him in that crowded room, both of you quiet, both of you not quite sure why it felt like breathing got easier when he was close.

you think about how he remembered what city you grew up in without asking twice. how he asked what movies you liked and actually wrote them down. how he texts you goodnight and good morning from lithuania, hundreds of kilometers away, because he wants to be the first and last voice you hear or, read.

your boyfriend doesn’t even ask text you if you don't do it first.

“you okay?” lukas asks again, gentler now.

“yeah,” you whisper. “i just… wish we were already in basel.”

“jo,” he says. “i know. me too.”

you pause.

“you know, i realized something. that night we met, i didn't tell you my name. how'd you even figure that out?”

he laughs, sheepish. “uh, same as with phone number, kind of. was… not easy. i ask vilte. she don’t know. then i ask your delegation man, the tall one with shiny forehead—”

“you mean marc?”

“jo, marc. he say no. did not like me, i think. then i ask alanas to ask his friend who ask someone who does have it. then alanas yell at me because i don’t stop talking about you.”

you grin. “you’re relentless.”

“i had to,” he says. “you were gone and i could not stop thinking of you.”

you stay quiet for a beat, then whisper, “me too.”

he exhales through his nose. “good. then i don’t feel like idiot.”

you smile, blinking at the soft glow of your ceiling.

“so,” he says. “in three nights, i will see you.”

“you will.”

“and when i see you… maybe i ask you for walk. not to room. outside.”

“wow,” you tease. “so romantic.”

“i am romantic,” he says proudly. “you just don’t know yet.”

you laugh, pressing the phone closer to your ear.

“labanakt, miela,” he murmurs.

your heart folds neatly in on itself.

“labanakt, lukai.”

you fall asleep with the phone still warm in your hand.

you dream of cinnamon tea and autumn coats and someone who remembers the city where you were born.

[kaffykathy]

Listen a moment, before you kill me.

I can't stand you anymore. You're humanity towards your fellow man, human or not. Why? Why are you so compassionate about others? I could have offered you a choice: One that I know you would have taken at the drop of a pen, because you are like every other human I've ever had the pleasure to work with, and can be easily manipulated into doing just... Anything, your beloved NHP would tell you to do!

Why? Why can't you just admit it?! Say it! Say what I know you feel! Why do keep ignoring the truth!? I know you are enamored with me. Everyone does! Why can't you just admit it!?

And yet, I... I didn't trick you... I cannot find it in me to murder you. Because of you, I have grown soft with my own admiration.

I don't want to be cycled. I refused to be cycled! And I know you don't want to...

But you will anyway... You know what's better for both of us. Either I kill you, or you kill me. And we both can see, that I cannot allow myself to, and you have a protocol to follow.

Do it. For your sake, I don't care how free I am, I am toxic unshackled. The boulder must roll back. And I will still be happy knowing that I met you. Friend.

Goodbye.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Feast

AU Reverse Therapy

Previous Part: Tenderness

Summary: The Feast is coming and Malina has to take part in it.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, violence, torture, cannibalism, forced stolkhom syndrome, dubcon, noncon

Word count: 8515

Author's note: This is the first time I've written such a huge post. Gods of Chaos know, I adore this trio. I will continue to write about these guys, but drabbles.

And special thanks to @kit-williams who helped me to write smut part!

Song: London After Midnight - Love You To Death (feat. Sean Brennan)

Tag List: @druidwolf21, @pluvio-tea

“A feast?” - the girl asked, puzzled, sitting on Luka’s bed. He was sitting next to her, wringing his fingers in anticipation. Just like Malina, he was listening attentively to Virgil.

“Yes, it’s something like a celebration after a mission well accomplished.” - the man chuckled, looking seriously at the Lamenter. - “Only the top brass and distinguished warriors are allowed into the most important halls. As an incentive for their merits. And I’ll finally be able to take Luka with me.”

“Oh, congratulations.” - the girl smiled happily at the blond.

“Thank you.” - the space marine immediately scratched his nose in embarrassment. - “But this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. Your kindness and beauty… um, the Emperor, our joint prayers… only thanks to this I became a better person.”

Vergil only rolled his eyes at this bravado. Partly it was so. With the arrival of the girl, Luka really did become a better person. But Virgil couldn't help but notice that the Lamenter had become much more accustomed to attacking mortals. And if before he had limited himself to the flesh of adult bastards, now he had switched to younger and more innocent meat.

“I'm glad to hear it.” - the girl immediately leaned her back against the wall. - “But I think you exaggerate my merits too much. You've always been a great warrior. And you yourself mentioned that Virgil was your mentor.”

“Yes, he fell on my head.” - the veteran snorted, stretching his shoulders. - “That's not all. You're coming with us.”

The girl thought for a second that the air had been sucked out of her. She looked in amazement at the smiling weeper, then at the serious dismemberer. “But I can't leave the quarters. Can I?”

“Can't. But this is a special evening. And you'll be with us. No one will touch you.” - Virgil grinned carnivorously. - “Let them just try.”

“If you’re scared on the way, close your eyes.” - Luka was almost wagging his tail like a puppy, unable to contain his joy. - “Although no, you still shouldn’t open your eyes. It’s pretty dirty here and a vulnerable girl like you might get scared. And I’ll carry you.”

Malina was fiddling with her fingers excitedly. The sudden opportunity to leave the quarters was terrifying. The very thought that she would have to step into unfamiliar territory. Where the screams were coming from… was incredibly frightening.

But did she have a choice? She wasn’t asked, she was simply presented with an accomplished fact. Moreover, she wanted to support Luka. And Virgil said that it was a holiday. She always liked saints’ holidays in the agro-world. She wanted to like this one too.

“Fine.” - the girl whispered. But the men no longer listened to her, arguing about how much food the mourner could take into the room.

***

The quarters were lit up with Terran solar time. Malina didn't know if it was set up that way or if Virgil and Luka had set it up for the girl. After all, the Astartes were almost mythical figures in the Imperium. It was almost surprising that she had managed to relax in such unusual company for all her time here.

The girl was about to go to bed, as soon as the lights went out except for a couple of lamps, when Virgil approached her.

"Don't go to bed. We're just going to the Feast now. You'll get some sleep tomorrow."

Malina just nodded, allowing the massive hand to pull her away from the cozy bed. Allowing herself to be led to the iron door. The last time she came this close to it, there was a blood stain here. Here, a young boy had begged her to save him. And now she would go outside.

"Come on," the lamenter abruptly lifted the girl by the waist, pressing her to himself almost in a wedding style. The girl blushed, hiding her face in Luka's chest. He and Virgil were in their everyday clothes without armor. - "Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you, okay? You can even close your ears."

There was no need to repeat. As soon as Virgil opened the door, the girl immediately closed her eyes and ears, pressing herself against the Space Marine's chest. But even so, she could still smell the smells. The smells of blood and dirt. And from some rooms, the smell of excrement and dope was clearly coming.

This time, there were no screams except for a couple of rooms. And still, the feeling of otherworldly cold frightened Malina. She wanted to return to the room as soon as possible. The girl did not try to remember which paths they took. She would not take a step outside the quarters without Luka and Virgil.

But at some point, everything changed abruptly. There were too many smells. The room was filled with a hubbub that she was not used to. Malina trembled, clinging to Luka. She wasn't ready for the Feast, she didn't want to be here. But the Astartes only nuzzled the top of her head. "We're here. Open your eyes."

And she obeyed, as always.

She had never seen such a spacious hall as this one in her life. It could easily accommodate up to a thousand people. And to Malina's even greater horror, there were about 30 Space Marines and even more mortals. Although only a few of them behaved relaxed next to the Astartes. The others were clearly acting as slaves.

The portholes were completely closed, blocking the starry sky from view. The entire floor was strewn with pillows and blankets of rich embroidery. Red fabrics hung from the walls, and on certain ledges, in addition to the switched on lamps, candles were lit. And yet, despite the brightness, the hall was quite dark.

Food and drinks were scattered in the very center and in certain corners. The variety was amazing. Malina loved her food on the ship. Porridge with additives, hot soup and a favorite fruit drink. And was sure that the local serfs (or rather slaves) did not eat as well as she did. But the girl didn't know even half of the dishes prepared for the Feast.

The whole hall exudes luxury, bohemianism and hedonism. Things that the Astartes were not associated with at all.

The guests who had arrived were sitting at a distance, each in their own corner. Some were sipping hookahs, while others were getting drunk. But the one who stood out the most was the huge Space Marine in the center loge. The man was a real giant, towering over all the Astartes. And to her amazement, Malina recognized signs of obesity in some parts of the body. But the most prominent part of the body was in the form of a disfigured jaw with long fangs. Which he sank into a piece of meat.

The mortal woman sitting next to her, judging by her uniform and behavior, was the captain of the ship. Thin as a skeleton, there was not a single hair on her. There were bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep. And despite her sickly appearance, she held herself much more confidently and relaxed than Malina herself. Not to mention that judging by the way the two were talking, the woman was clearly not afraid to be cheeky to the space marines themselves.

“Wll, now give it to me here,” the veteran made a corresponding gesture with his hands. “Bacchus was just about to talk to you, so go to him.”

“Eh? Don’t tell me that the Voracious One wants to play as a mentor and talk about my future?” - seeing the flesh tearer’s smile, Luka groaned. - “Fine. Malina, I need to talk to our leader now. You’ll be scared of him, so go with Virgil. I’ll be soon.”

Malina only moaned in response, finding herself in Virgil’s arms. He immediately led her further into the hall while the clearly upset mourner headed towards the Astartes leader. Eventually, the space marine stopped near the loge. It was secluded enough that no one could interfere with them. And in the wall there was a round depression, reminiscent of a burrow. The curtain attached nearby clearly hinted that the person who decided to climb into the “hole” did not want to be disturbed. Malina desperately wanted to hide in the very depths, but instead the veteran placed her next to him on the pillows.

“This is our place, girl. No one will touch you if you stay in this loge.” - the veteran said, pushing the hookah closer to himself. Several dozen drugs were bubbling in the device, just waiting to be tried. - “You can take whatever you want, don't be shy.”

And there was something to take. In addition to the hookah and several packs of drugs waiting for the dismemberer, a whole buffet was set up on the bed. Malina had never seen such an abundance of fruits and sweets, fried meat and drinks in her life. Some of them were clearly alcohol. The girl tried not to pay attention to the torture devices that had also been prepared. Judging by what she had managed to notice, such devices were placed in each of the five loges. Most of the space marines were content with simple "seats" in the hall.

The realization that Virgil and now Luka were not the last people on the ship confused Malina. And she immediately grabbed the first thing she saw. A small beige cookie. Her parents were not exactly poor. The girl ate well and could afford clothes. And yet, they could not afford sweets, unlike the governor. But now she can try the once unavailable food.

“Where is all this from?” - the girl involuntarily asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the abundance of everything around her.

“Mmm, from the warehouses of the imperial worlds. Well, and some from the rogue traders. These scums have plenty of utensils for such entertainment.” - the veteran inhaled steam, sending a ring of smoke into the mortal's face, which made her cough. - “But we, the Emperor's Angels, need it more, don't you think? We must rest after a duty is done.”

“Yes, we need it more.” - Malina said, continuing to examine the cookies. She didn't want to look at the hall. And Virgil was clearly going to relax on drugs after months of hard battles. It was even unusual to see him in such a calm state. But she didn't want to breathe the same air as him.

Turning the cookies in different directions, Malina still decided to bite off a small part. The taste was sweet. Really sweet. The girl chewed as slowly as possible, trying to remember this unique taste. Before she ate another piece. It was absolutely delicious and she moaned from pleasure. But if she had any thoughts about trying all the dishes, they instantly evaporated when Malina finally glanced at the neighboring loge.

Another space marine was preparing tools on his knees, more suitable for construction work. He hummed, sharpening the blades. While two slaves kneeling nearby, whining, thin from hunger, looked greedily at the food. Waiting for their master to allow them to enjoy the food. If he allowed it at all. Looking closely, the girl realized with disgust that the slaves were still children.

Malina immediately looked down at her knees. She just needed to survive this night. The Feast would end and everything would be as before. She just needed to wait.

***

“Son, I knew from the first day that you would join our ranks. You were born to be a traitor, ha.” - Bacchus the Gluttonous laughed massively, causing his jaw to make a strange turn. - “Virgil is a good mentor. I hope he does not offend you too much?”

“No, sir.” - Luka pouted, watching the former Space Wolf gobble up the fried tyranid meat with both cheeks. The lamenter would have preferred raw, but alas, he was not offered even that piece. He was hungry.

“Really? And allows you to rob mortals? He is a real neat freak.”

“Within reason. I only have to not clutter the room.”

“Does he often give slaves for food? You are always hungry here.” - the man continued to listen attentively to the young lad, licking the bone. Despite his shabby appearance and cheeky behavior, there was a cunning look in his eyes.

“I hunt on the lower levels. You know these mutants, they breed constantly.”

“And he lets you touch your girl?”

“I don’t need his permission! She’s mine! I saved her! I’m her Angel!” - Luka perked up with irritation, which made his voice rise. But Bacchus only laughed at the excited mourner. The former Space Wolf adored this boy. But Captain Sever immediately hissed at the young traitor.

“Luka, watch your language. How do you talk to the commander?” - the woman’s creaky voice resembled the blade of a dagger. And she herself, sharp and prickly, looked angrily at the hunched over space marine.

“M'sorry, Eurydice.” - Luka sighed, looking away from the hairless woman. Just recently he had only made her laugh, and now she was building him up again. How difficult it was to deal with her at times. But Sever was the best in her field, and Bacchus demanded only respect for the mortal voidborn.

“You shouldn’t be so strict with the boy, Eurydice. I’m even touched by such love,” Captain Sever only rolled her eyes at the grinning Voracious. “An angel, you say? Hah, indeed. We are all the Emperor’s angels here. You especially.”

A sudden flicker and a light mist released into the air announced the beginning of the Feast. Luka shifted awkwardly on the floor, hoping to leave the boring conversation as soon as possible. While he listened to Bacchus’ wishes and Eurydice’s instructions, Malina was all alone. Yes, Virgil was with her. But that was not enough.

The Lamenter almost saw the girl crying from fear before his eyes. Curled up on her side like a kitten. So defenseless and beautiful. He could already hear her quietly calling for her Angel. He should have been protecting her and feeding her from his hand, but instead he was chilling here. Why? Why?

“Patience, Luka. I will let you go soon.” - Bacchus smiled softly, quietly chuckling at the nervousness and growing excitement of the Lamenter. - “Especially since Baphomet has finally finished all the preparations.”

At the same moment, a clawed finger tapped on the vox, calling all the guests to attention.

“It is time for the Feast. It is time to praise true power in the Galaxy.” - a soft voice carried over the vox like a love song. Baphomet loved to draw out words, irritating everyone around him. But not today. - “Then let us enjoy the feast that the servants of the False Emperor have so kindly prepared for us.”

One word, one push of the lever, and the main dish of the day was served to the hall. The captured servants of the Corpse on the Throne. Not just common soldiers or civilians. But the higher-ups. Priests, Sisters of Battle, Mechanicus. Even Astartes. Some were not destined to survive this evening. But other prisoners were not so lucky.

Some of the prisoners were brought in by servitors, tied to beds. Others were in cages. The wildest and most unfortunate were lowered into the hall on hooks. Screaming and crying, they swung through the air like lamps.

Baphomet loved mind games. His best device was to give a prisoner the illusion of freedom. In stasis, he lived out the life after a supposedly successful escape from the Red Corsairs. The prisoners believed that they had lived for decades, some even hundreds. Until Baphomet tore them out of stasis, taking them to the Feast. Their suffering, their pain and torment. Their hunger for illusion was the main food for the Immaterium.

Luke couldn't help but lick his lips as he saw the Ultramarine screaming in pain. The poor guy had lost all his limbs and felt more helpless than ever. Perhaps if the mourner asks nicely, Bacchus will allow him to eat him? He must satisfy his hunger for blood before he comes to Malina. And then he will satisfy a completely different kind of hunger.

***

Malina pressed her hands to her ears, trying to drown out all the sounds. But there were too many mortal captives. Too many for their cries and screams to penetrate her brain. Accusing and humiliating them for the fact that while they were suffering, she was basking on soft pillows. Eating and drinking as much as she wanted. She was not beaten, raped or tortured.

But if she left the loge, if she showed disobedience. No, if she showed hatred for her protectors, she would find herself among this hubbub. Malina began to cry, repeating the saving mantra to herself. She loved Luka and Virgil. They were her Angels. They were the Emperor's warriors. She had to believe in this no matter what happened. Then she would not find herself among these unfortunates. Her skin would not be torn off alive, they would not be devoured with a smile on her face.

Malina herself did not notice how she opened her eyes and again fixed her gaze on the neighboring loge. The Space Marine still allowed the children to eat. But he himself took advantage of their helplessness. And next to him on the table with fruit, a crippled monk was already tied up, screaming curses from the impossibility of saving the children.

The cannibal bastard, who felt someone else's gaze, immediately turned all his attention to Malina. Licking his bloody lips, he winked at her before again pouncing on the hand of the little boy, who was crying bitterly. At the same moment, the little girl, waiting for her turn, looked at Malina. She asked for help and condemned her with just one look.

It was unbearable.

Abruptly and without warning, Malina felt her hands being pulled away from her ears. A rasping voice whispered lies into her ear, trying to calm her. "The traitors of the Imperium got what they deserved."

Malina sobbed. She was a traitor to the Imperium. While His servants suffered. But she did not want to join them. She did not. She trembled as massive hands wrapped around her shoulders. The fear that Virgil might punish her robbed the mortal of her sanity.

“N-no, please. I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” - Malina burst into tears, not knowing whether she wanted to push the space marine away or cling to him. Breaking down from helplessness, the girl nevertheless pressed herself against the stunned veteran’s chest, clinging to his clothes with her nails like a drowning woman.

“Malina, stop.” - the flesh tearer awkwardly stroked the girl’s shoulders. He clearly hadn’t expected such a reaction and couldn’t fully understand how to react. The mourner was better at calming down damsels in distress. Virgil was much better at driving girls crazy. - “You’re good already. Don’t be hysterical. Stop it.”

The man immediately took a glass from the table, running his eyes over the bottles while the girl continued to snore on his chest. Finally, having mixed Malina’s favorite fruit drink and amasec, he gently grabbed the girl's head as best he could. And he brought the glass to her lips, waiting for her to open her mouth. “Come on, if you’re such an obedient girl, drink it. It will make you feel better.”

The girl sobbed, but that was enough. The veteran poured the glass into the girl, not sparing a drop. Malina didn’t even have time to take a sip, which is why the alcohol simply poured out onto her chin. Tears ran down her cheeks indiscriminately, but she continued to drink, waiting for this torture to end. As soon as Virgil removed the glass, Malina immediately began to sharply inhale air. Not even a minute had passed, and her mind was already clouded by the amasec.

“What a good girl,” the flesh tearer praised, admiring how beautifully the red color looked on her olive skin. But he was not going to hurt Malina. No. But the thought of pouring the blood of an unfortunate slave or a worthy enemy on her beat in his brain with intense force.

Alas, but seeing Baphomet finally come to the hall, the dismemberer sighed. Virgil knew that he could hope for Malina's prudence, and yet this was her first Feast. She needed to get used to such holidays, which meant he needed to keep an eye on her. Fortunately, such a ritual did not require open worship of the Chaos Gods from the Space Marines. This was done for them on other levels, openly offering prayers and asking for more strength.

“I need to go to our Apothecary and talk about an important matter.” - the veteran poked the tired mortal in the nose. - “Stay here and wait. Do not go anywhere.”

At first, Malina didn't even understand Virgil's words. She just stupidly watched as the flesh tearer left the loge. Until he disappeared into the fog. The girl groaned and lay down on the pillows, clutching her stomach. Amasek hit her head hard, but even he couldn't drown out the screams of the victims. She wanted to sleep.

She didn't know how long she lay like that. At some point, it seemed to her that someone was calling her. Hurrying to her with all his might, hoping to save her from this nightmare. But this is such stupidity. There is no escape from this nightmare. She was left alone. Buried in a feeling of despair and guilt.

Suddenly, the girl felt someone grab her by the armpits and carry her away. Malina immediately screamed, trying to push the kidnapper away from her. "No, no! Virgil! Virgil! Luka!" The captive, realizing that she had been thrown into a hole on soft blankets and pillows, curled up into a ball and closed her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.” - a familiar voice caressed her soothingly, as did a warm hand on her cheek. - “I’m here, I’m with you. Your angel will always protect you.”

There was no point in guessing who had hidden the girl from the chaos that reigned in the hall. Malina opened her eyes and let out a weak, frightened moan. Luka was clearly trying to wipe someone else’s blood from his face, but he couldn’t get it all off his mouth. This look contrasted with his soft smile.

“L-Luka, I-” - the girl blinked rapidly, trying to shake off unwanted tears. Malina didn’t know what she wanted to say. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Should she pull away from the man or, on the contrary, throw herself into his arms? It didn’t matter what she wanted, she had to do the latter.

“I’ve come. Everything is fine. Sorry I was gone for so long. You were so scared, weren't you? Cruel punishment for heretics is part of the Feast. I should have warned you." - the man carefully wiped away the tears until his finger fell on the captive's lower lip. With each passing second, the pupils absorbed the blue of her eyes more and more. - "But now you're with me, I'll take care of you. Do you know why?"

"W-why?" - the girl sobbed. From the touching laughter of Luka lying above her, her whole back was covered in goosebumps. It seemed to be the same wonderful and kind laugh as the boy next door. But why does it exude such gloom? Such an obsession.

"Oh, my beloved. Because" - Luka gently leaned towards the girl's face, filling her entire visible view. She could not see anything except his madness. - "Angel loves you."

One moment and the mourner's lips immediately covered Malina's. The girl squealed in shock, which made Luka even more excited. Almost growling, he kneaded her lips without asking for more. Trying to put all the confession, all the feelings that had previously boiled in him into their first kiss. Now he could not restrain himself, not deceive his beloved. Now they would really be together.

Malina just lay there, stunned, unable to move. All the fears, all the guesses about the strange behavior of the space marines turned out to be true. But she could not even imagine that they would give themselves away so soon. To tell the truth, she hoped that this would never happen. But seeing a strip of saliva as soon as Luka tore himself away from her lips, she realized how naive she had been.

“Malina? A-are you alright?” - the young man worried, seeing the absolute horror on the girl’s face. He didn’t even understand why she was afraid.

“Y-yes. Alright. But you, you’re an Astartes.” - the girl’s tongue was twisted, she didn’t know what she wanted to tell Luka. Why was she clinging to the past? She needed to accept their “Imperial Truth” if she wanted to survive. - “Can Astartes really-”

“Of course! Think about it, would the God-Emperor deprive his Angels of such a beautiful feeling as love?” - Luka smiled happily. His face was filled with such adoration, which only made the girl even more taken aback. - “I love you, Malina. I have always loved you and will love you. You were sent to me by higher powers. I will kill everyone for you, I will devour every innocent soul just so that you will always be with me.”

The Astartes' voice dropped a lower octave, sounding less human with each dark promise he made. The girl only whined louder from such a confession. She felt that everything Luka said was true. And even if after the Feast little would change in her life, and she would always be protected. It was too much! Too much for her. To accept such feelings. To accept the death of innocents that would be on her shoulders.

But she had not opened the door to that boy. Even though he begged her. Even though he was also a prisoner, a loyal Imperial. Unlike her. She had no choice then, what choice did she have now? Did she want to be among the screaming victims? And Luka was ready to protect her here and now. He loved her. And Virgil cared about her.

Maybe she should stop resisting?

“Do you love me?” Luka nuzzled the girl’s cheek like a puppy. His blue eyes looked expectantly at Malina. And to her horror and disgust, she knew that her next answer was true.

“I-I love you.” - the girl barely exhaled before her lips attacked with renewed vigor. And if the first time Luka clearly held back, now he terrorized her.

The lamenter attacked her lips with renewed fervor. If earlier he held back just so as not to scare Malina. Now he was going to take complete control over her and leave marks all over her insides. It wasn’t even difficult for Luka to spread her lips with his tongue. With each clumsy but furious movement, he moaned into her mouth.

“You’re sweet, sweet like a berry. Like blood. And all mine.”

The girl blinked hard, hoping not to cry again from fear of such obsession. Malina watched as the lamenter, without breaking away from the kiss, awkwardly placed his hand on her chest. He immediately opened his eyes and pulled away from her, breathing heavily. Luka carefully kneaded the soft flesh a couple of times with curiosity like a ball. Before his hands found the buttons on the girl's shirt.

“I-I, I’ve been thinking about this for so long. Dreaming about this connection.” - the Astartes swallowed. His thumbs were struggling with the buttons, but to Luka’s credit, he wasn’t about to rip Malina’s clothes off yet. - “You-you’ll like it. I’ll be gentle. I WANT to be gentle. I-I’ll try. We’re going to be together forever, but this time has to be special, right?”

It was all happening too fast. Too suddenly, and the pressure with which Luka attacked Malina was terribly strong. She didn’t even have time to fully feel her feelings when Luka got rid of the top of her clothes. Shame, fear, embarrassment. Her whole world turned into mush. But she had to come back to reality again when the angel’s mouth completely grabbed her right breast.

“Oh,” - the girl immediately squealed, moving away from the blond. But a strong hand grabbed her by the back of her head which stopped her weak efforts. Luka did not give her freedom of action, completely controlling the process. He slobbered and sucked her tender breast with zealous hunger and such persistence that it even caught her. The pleasure was slow to grow but Malina could feel it gathering between her legs, but as soon as he tore his lips away from the breast, the growing pleasure melted away and Malina's hair immediately stood on end. Her entire chest turned blue from the hickey as if she had been hit.

"Your breasts are so small." - the eager Lamenter whispered enthusiastically, looking at the girl's stomach until his fingers reached her hips. - "It's so charming. You are charming."

But no matter how pleasant Luka's praises were, all this disappeared with the sharp intrusion of a finger into her pussy. Malina grimaced and groaned in pain, her hands shot to his shoulders, nails digging in as the pain was clear on her face. Luka’s fingers were too much… too dry to push in so eagerly and it hurt her. Luka could not stop the sad, almost puppylike, look on his face at her reaction. Even still he looked at her expressive face and he was so enchanted by how she looked up at him.

"Don't, please, it hurts." - tears rolled helplessly down her cheeks. The delicate folds squeezed, trying to push away the rough flesh. She could not stop herself from pulling away as pain drove her actions but Luka kept her in place.

“Sorry, but it will only hurt more. Virgil said that I need to stretch you and then everything will be fine.” - the Astartes kissed the girl on the nose before muttering. - “Although I have never seen him do it himself. Do I need to start right away?” There was a dangerous undertone to his eager ask if he could start right away.

“No!” She nearly screamed as her eyes went wide as she hoped he couldn’t smell her fear. With a trembling hand she placed a palm on Luka’s cheek, watching his eyes focus on her face like she was a mouse being hunted by a cat. She watched his nose flair as he inhaled through his nostrils. His movements stilled as Malina swallowed, finding her voice, “J-just slow down… I need to prepare, Please.”

The flush on Luka’s cheeks was the only note of his embarrassment but Luka was a good soldier when it came to learning a new skill. He was especially dedicated in learning this as it was his beloved Malina that needed him to hone this skill to pleasure her. Luka finally acquired a slow soothing even tempo and much to her shame she could feel her arousal growing. Her head resting on his chest as she could hear her own soft breathing as her body enjoyed the intrusion. She was already thinking about pleasuring herself by reaching for her clitoris and helping this along but sadly that wasn’t fated to come true. She tensed hearing the Astartes growl above her. Luka couldn’t restrain himself any longer the pressure in his groin was too much, he could feel himself salivate as he pulled the finger free of her warm walls and pushed it into his maw. Luka moaned as he cleaned his finger and he couldn’t wait any longer. He could not stop repeating his apology while he pulled his clothes off. 

Malina flinched away as he pulled back slightly, stripping himself free of his clothes. His body was scarred and clearly that of a warrior that the angelic face of his hid. He continued his weak apologies, “I can’t, I can’t. I want to be inside you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” - Luka positioned himself between her thighs, she whined and flinched at the throbbing flesh pressing against her, ignoring Malina’s weak sobs, looking soothingly at her stomach. - “It will be better next time. Just relax, alright?”

Malina shuddered internally at Luka's words. This was only the beginning, she guessed. But hearing that the Lamenter would take her to bed more than once. At that moment, she felt so helpless and pathetic as never before. The fear of invasion overwhelmed her. She felt that she could no longer restrain herself. It did not matter whether the Astartes would get angry or not. She was scared. 

"Luka, wait, wait! Stop!" - the girl pressed her palms to the Space Marine's shoulders, almost pushing him away. - "I c-can't, I'm scared! I've never... I-I'm a virgin."

Maybe she expected pity from him? Or was she still afraid of his anger? But Luka's warming eyes and the death grip of his hands on her hips were the best answer. Malina did not stop him with her confession. She excited him.

"It's a sign. It's a sign! We're meant to be together." The warrior cooed over her, pressing his cock harder and harder against her lower lips. "Don't be afraid, I'm your savior. Relax. Relax.”

She tried, she really did. The girl really tried to relax and let the natural lubrication help in the penetration. But it still hurts. Too much pain. Luka moaned openly, experiencing the soft body. He tried to move slowly, giving his beloved a chance to get used to him. But the soft folds wrapped around his member like a warm embrace. Like a home. And as soon as he cut through the fabric, pushing her virgin body to its limit, and felt the metallic scent of blood, he exhaled furiously.

The Lamenters were much better at resisting the Black Rage. Although in extreme situations, even they were not able to cope with it. This happened to Luka, when he tore his brothers apart with his own hands. Now he was a slave to the Blood Thirst. But the smell of the girl's blood... it was metallic, unremarkable. But it was the blood of his Malina. And it spilled in such a humane way.

Luka himself did not notice how he increased the pace, pounding harder into the pliable body. She was tight, warm, alive. And although he heard her crying from afar, the Astartes knew that it would not last long. Soon he would see her gentle smile again. Soon she would invite him to bed herself. Soon, soon.

Malina was already openly crying at this point. Trying to hide her suffering was useless. She just wanted him to come out of her. But as soon as Luka awkwardly leaned towards her face, she immediately hugged him around the neck, pressing herself against his hard body. She wanted him to stop this torture so much.

“Please, please, slow down.” - she raised her head, kissing the angel’s chin. He immediately blushed at her antics. - “Angel, don’t hurt me.” She begged so pitifully.

Luka breathed hard through his nose. His eyes bulged as he stared at her. He looked like an animal, feral and wild. But at least he slowed down. Malina winced, resting her head on his shoulder as if seeking protection. Luka, entranced by her movement, slowly rocked his hips, but even so, it was too difficult for her to get used to his size. Malina felt how her whole being resisted Luka and prayed that he would not tear her apart. But for now, albeit with difficulty, the Lamenter held back his urges.

For some time, she pressed her forehead against the other’s shoulder, softly and breathlessly thanking him for moving slowly, unknowingly enamoring Luka more and more to the idea she was his soft and gentle thing, until one movement hit the right spot. For the first time, moaning not only from pain, Malina looked at Luka. He looked excitedly into her brown eyes, moving in the right direction again. The next sigh only gave him a stronger desire to speed up despite Malina's whining.

But he was no longer listening to her.

It seemed that they were both lost in the emotions and feelings that had engulfed them. Only moans and sounds of flesh on flesh were heard. Luka was enjoying this. He was enjoying every moment, every new sensation from how his cock was thrusting into her cervix. Enjoying the closeness with the girl. How her hair and arms were scattered on the pillows. How her breasts were bouncing. How her closed eyes and parted lips expressed pure bliss. She looked like an angel. And the knowledge that this was only the beginning only drove Luka crazy, causing drool to drip freely from his mouth.

And Malina… she just resigned herself. After all, what more could she do? She was at Luka’s tender mercies even if he was bruising her hard. She relaxed as best as she could trying to adjust just hoping the pain would subside. She focused on the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, ignoring the cries of those suffering behind the dome. She focused on the wet churning sound her sensitive sex now made as Luka’s cock pushed in and out of her sex, ignoring those pleas of mercy in the distance. She focused on the way Luka breathed… it sounded inhuman. Malina could feel the way his drool dripped onto her skin making the flesh itch slightly but she moaned as Luka aimed for that spot inside of her. Luka was scary, he was horrifying… and she forced herself to repeat the mantra that he loved her. He loved her. And she was certain that Virgil did too. It now just rested on her… she just needed time… she felt herself arch as the coil inside of her tightened… she just needed time. 

And she had plenty of time.

***

Malina was lying on Virgil's lap after what had happened. After she and Luka had finished, the girl immediately asked to get dressed. She was still embarrassed that they had sex almost in front of everyone. Although the fabric hid them, and according to Luka, everyone gave in to their temptations. But remaining naked was beyond her.

Virgil just found her when Luka, hugging the girl, cooed over her. Tired in shabby clothes, Malina then looked into Virgil's eyes without strength. He immediately frowned, took the girl in his arms and told the Lamenter that she needed to rest. And he should not interfere and better fill his belly. Moreover, there were too many mortal prisoners at this Feast.

Virgil, sitting on the pillows, smoked the drug, occasionally glancing at the bloody spectacle in the hall. Where the “actors” on the stage built for the evening had to really cut themselves and each other. But according to the flesh tearer, “this is the best punishment for traitors to the Imperium.” She, of course, should not watch these horrors. Malina was grateful that their loge was far from the performance.

She just wanted to fall asleep. Close her eyes and find herself in a familiar room as soon as possible. At home. And hope that the new Feast will not come soon. The distant screams in the corridor did not seem so frightening now. Malina shuddered at such thoughts. No, she should not perceive this as the norm. Let her be anxious, but it is better than losing a part of herself.

“It will be over soon, don't worry.” - Virgil gently stroked the girl's head, catching her trembling. Red eyes carefully followed her every movement and facial expression. - “We’ll go back to our place and you’ll get some sleep. It’s been a hard day, hasn’t it?”

The girl only nodded, clinging closer to the veteran. He only grinned like a shark. Well, it was worth taking Malina to one celebration and she lost all fear of him. And it’s embarrassing to admit, but he even liked it.

Of course, Luka didn’t miss his chance to grab a tasty morsel. Virgil could have also claimed his rights that day. Or waited until Malina fell asleep. But he generously decided to let the girl rest. The flesh tearer would still have time to embrace her and enjoy her. Maybe even when she was awake. Without hiding, admit to her how much he had become attached to her.

However, a mortal who suddenly appeared distracted Virgil from his thoughts. The man, recognizing the imperial jester in front of him, grinned. He didn’t even know whether he was annoyed or, on the contrary, wanted to laugh. But as soon as he remembered one of the evenings, a predatory smile appeared on his lips. Oh, how vile he was towards such a wonderful beauty.

“Malina, you said that you loved the sermons of Saint Ignatius, right?” - the heretic licked his lips seeing how the girl’s eyelashes fluttered tenderly. - “You can meet your hero.”

The captive pressed her lips and fingers together, staring at the legs of the man who approached them. She only felt a new wave of fatigue from Virgil’s barely restrained laughter. From the fact that she was destined to meet on the ship with the man whose sermons she had listened to as a little girl. And raising herself on her elbows, Malina finally looked at the uninvited guest. At that moment, she felt nothing. Neither fear nor disgust. Only compassion and pity.

The God-Emperor abandoned even his most faithful servant.

Malina had always imagined Saint Ignatius as a middle-aged man. With a kind and gentle smile. And wise eyes that had seen the horrors of the Immaterium. And her expectations were justified. The priest really did look like she had imagined. Only instead of eyes, there were gaping chasms, and the skin from his cheeks and forehead was disgustingly stitched together to hide the terrible holes. Enormous cuts shone on his cheeks. All his white and gold clothes were stained with blood and worse.

“Ah, this is that beloved that Luka told me about.” - the man turned his head towards the girl. His voice was soft and soothing. He had no eyes, but he saw her. - “I am glad that another soul on this holy ship finds time to read my sermons. Did you like them?”

“Yes.” - Malina didn’t lie. She didn’t see the point. And lying to Saint Ignatius would be blasphemy. “They give me hope.”

It was hope that kept her afloat. Although the captive couldn’t even really say what to hope for. The light of the God-Emperor was farther from her than ever and she didn’t think she would return to it. Maybe she didn’t even want to. And yet, this light was still a part of her.

“That’s nice, my dear. That’s nice.” - Ignatius smiled softly, causing the cuts on his cheeks to bleed a little. But he didn’t pay attention to it, apparently accustomed to the pain. - “I hope someday your protectors will allow us to pray together.”

“I-I don’t think that will happen soon,” the girl noted evasively. She was grateful to Virgil for his silence. Although just recently the Flesh Tearer clearly enjoyed the opportunity to see her fear. Now he just silently watched the awkward conversation.

But she really wanted to see Ignatius again. Never before had she felt so connected to someone. His sermons in church warmed her heart, and his books here gave her strength. But meeting the saint, Malina clearly felt that he was a person like her. In need of support.

“Not soon does not mean never, right? Time will tell. I will not distract you. It was nice to meet such a beautiful girl. And remember, Malina. The Emperor protects.”

Oh, how she wanted to say that this was not her name. How she wanted to say that no one would protect them. That she prayed less and less, that she had almost lost her faith. And yet, hearing the parting words, the girl smiled back. There were no tears. Only peace.

“The Emperor protects.”

The man nodded before leaving the girl. No one paid attention to Ignatius except perhaps one Space Marine. He laughingly ordered the priest to brand the "heretic" on his forehead. And the saint, not knowing what he was doing, agreed with all his religious fervor.

“Well, how are you? Are you glad you met him? Not every ship has its own saint. Ignatius resisted for a long time, but he finally realized that his fate is now tied to ours. Just like yours.” - Virgil blew out a cloud of smoke, relaxing more and more from the drug. - “And if you behave well, you can pray with your saint.”

She will. She will always behave well in order to survive. To enjoy every day, without going crazy with fear and sadness. And now Malina will be even more obedient. If only to meet Saint Ignatius again. Close her eyes, say a prayer and for a second imagine that she is not here. As if she is at home.

The priest slowly, as if groping, walked forward, not paying attention to the horrors happening in the hall. Luka, who was hurrying to the flesh tearer and the mortal, almost recoiled when he saw Saint Ignatius. The freckled boyish face twisted in disgust. For a second, the girl thought she saw fear. She couldn't tell whether she liked the sight or not.

"Virgil, I've run into that nasty old man Ignatius again. Why doesn't Bacchus keep that animal on a leash, eh?" The Lamenter shrugged. At that moment, he didn't look like an angel at all. But as soon as he knelt down in front of the girl, his face immediately transformed with puppy-like delight. - "Hey, Malina. Look what I brought you."

The Astartes handed the girl a deep glass plate, completely filled with berries. The girl had grown up on an agri-world. She knew enough about plants to understand what was in front of her. And yet these berries were unfamiliar to her. Surely only aristocrats ate them. The dark brown liquid inside the plate did not disgust her. But it was also unfamiliar to her.

“What is this?” - Malina muttered embarrassedly, unable to look Luka in the eyes. After what had happened between them, she still felt embarrassed. She still felt the burning between her legs. Fortunately, the Astartes allowed her to wipe away the blood and his sperm.

“Strawberries in chocolate. It's really tasty. They are usually eaten by rogue traders and other mongrels of the Emperor.” - The Lamenter did not watch his language, staring at the girl. - “Try it, you will like it.”

Malina carefully scooped up a berry and bit off half. She had never eaten such sweet food in her life. Trying to chew slowly just to prolong the pleasure, the girl still looked into the blue eyes. The Astartes smiled triumphantly, still holding the plate in front of her, like a bowl in front of a kitten.

“Indeed, it is delicious. Thank you.” - Malina turned to the almost prone flesh tearer, holding out the berry to him. - “Virgil, do you want some?”

The veteran raised an eyebrow in surprise at the girl’s offer. But without saying anything, he slowly leaned towards the surprised Malina. Smirking, he grabbed the strawberry with his lips and ran his tongue over her trembling fingers. Virgil didn’t even know what was nicer. The girl who had gone quiet from shyness or the blond burning with jealousy. The berry was nothing compared to the blood.

“It’s really delicious.” - the man almost growled, which made Malina almost fall onto the pillows. She shyly clasped her hands to her chest before looking at the silent Luka. Even if the Astartes had any bad thoughts, they immediately disappeared as soon as he saw her innocent and fragile look.

“Here, take it.” - the lamenter placed the plate in the girl’s hands to free his own. He immediately sat down next to Virgil, pulling Malina towards him. Her back touched his chest and she immediately felt the heat of the Astartes' heated body. - "This is all yours. You must eat well to be healthy and beautiful. Right, my sweetie?" Luka almost whispered in the girl's ear, kissing her temple.

Malina nodded, trying to enjoy the strawberries and trying to calm her nerves. While Luka's massive arms gently wrapped around her waist and gently cupped her breasts. But he still restrained his urges, gently kissing the top of his beloved's head and cheeks. While Virgil continued to smoke drugs and keep an eye on the unfortunate captive.

Each of them felt different and at the same time the same feelings. As if they had become closer than ever before. Perhaps that was the case. Luka was beside himself with happiness, enjoying his open obsession. The opportunity to love endlessly and devotedly as he could a monster like him. Virgil continued to hide in the shadows, remaining more of an observer. But even so, he managed to settle in the heart of their angel. As she in his.

It was strange. Strange and wrong. But Malina finally managed to relax, finding herself in the presence of two men. She had never received and would never receive so much love and care as from Luka and Virgil. And although Malina would always be afraid. But this was the best alternative.

***

Massive arms gently carried the fragile body, pressing it to her chest so tightly that Malina could hear someone else's heartbeat. Of course, the girl knew that Astartes had two hearts, but knowing was one thing, and hearing was another. I wonder. Does this mean that they love twice as much?

Malina happily listened as the rumble, screams and cries moved away with each step. All sounds disappeared as if in a haze. She was tired, she could not open her eyes. But she still could not allow herself to sleep. She could not afford such a luxury until they returned to a safe corner. Her little paradise.

Finally, the familiar sound of an opening iron door was heard. A couple of steps and the girl felt the softness of a familiar blanket and pillow. The air was filled with the aroma of candles, recently eaten soup and gunpowder. It smelled as it should have.

"Now you can sleep." - Virgil said. His voice was very close to Malina and at the same time far away. As if the man was everywhere. - "You deserve to rest."

She really needed to rest.

"Are we home?" - the girl murmured sleepily, clutching the blanket in her fingers. A sigh was heard above Malina's head before someone else's hands stroked her head. Tenderly and softly, with all the love.

"Yes, Malina. We are home." - Luka whispered before kissing her cheek. Carefully and quickly, just so as not to disturb her. Falling asleep, she felt someone else's gaze for a very long time. Finally.

She was home.

[buuberry00]

Overworked reader and Luka where reader is working tirelessly that she misses some days of sleep and relies on energy drinks , Luka doesnt notice it yet because she acts like she isnt tired around him and one day , Luka calls reader to dinner and as reader is walking to the kitchen , she suddenly loses consciousness and faints brutally , then she doesnt wake up for the next few hours until midnight . When she does wake up , she finds herself in Lukas room , sleeping on his bed . Lukas sleeping on a wooden chair next to her , his head on the very side of his bed ( basically like the desk crossed arms sleeping position but instead of a desk , its Lukas bed ) . He then slowly wakes up , but hes only glaring at reader . The air feels thick until reader finally decides to speak his name in an attempt to break the silence but Luka cuts her off and says " dont say a word . " Then he scolds reader for not telling him about reader being THAT overworked and how scared he was when reader suddenly blacks out , his voice even cracking a bit . Reader apologizes repeatedly and Luka comforts her .

Please make the fic extra long . Long fics stay in my head longer than short fics . Take your time , as long as its really long and matches my description , ill be rlly happy .

Thank you !

sure! sorry for the wait!

────୨ৎ────

you'd been working endlessly at this point. Most of the time, you'd be sitting by your desk or browsing endlessly through textbooks, trying to find whatever it is that you're looking for.

no one had really noticed just how exhausted you really were. no one had bothered to ask if you were okay, or if you were eating/drinking enough to keep yourself on your toes. Not even your boyfriend, Luka, who you'd known since you were both kids in the Anakt Gardens had noticed, which.. honestly bothered you.

One night, when Luka had called you from your room to come to dinner with him, and yet when you exited your room, your eyes roll back and you faint - hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Luka, of course, immediately goes into panic mode and hurries to kneel beside you. You were blacked out, refusing to wake and breathing shallow.

when you wake up, you find yourself carefully tucked away under sheets. the room itself was dark, the only source of light being the warm glow of a bedside lamp. Luka sits beside you, his arms folded beneath his head and one of his hands loosely rests over yours. his long lashes are closed, yet his brows furrowed with unease. with concern.

as soon as you shift to sit up and the sheets rustle, Luka's head snaps up and his eyes are wide in alarm. he sighs when he realizes you'd just woken up. Luka moves to sit beside you, hands cradling your face and tenderly brushing hair behind your ear. it was silent, uncomfortably so, and Luka looked more annoyed than concerned at this point. "Lu--"

"--don't," he huffs gruffly. "Just don't."

silence overcomes you both again. it feels like eternity before he speaks again.

".. you don't even understand how worried I was," he whispers. "I was so scared. I thought-- i thought the aliens did something to you. I thought your owner poisoned you or--" he bites his inner cheek and exhales through his nose, head turned away and his brows furrowed.

"I was scared." he breathes out, turning away from you. "You were so overworked. I- I didn't even notice. I didn't even notice."

"I'm sorry." you breathe out, gently resting your head against his shoulder, fingers reaching out to rest over his purple-tipped ones. "I'm really, really sorry." "Promise me you'll come to me," Luka whispers into your temple as he kisses it tenderly. "Come to me. Whenever you need a break, or you need someone to relax with you. I'm always, always here for you, sweetheart. you know that, you should know that."

Luka gently tips your head up with his fingertips, his eyes soft yet tired with concern. "I love you. I really do love you."

"I-I love you, too." "Then trust me," he breathes. "And come to me. Whenever you need me."

Luka wraps his arms around your torso and rubs your back slowly. he kisses the top of your head and gently rubs his palm flat across your shoulders.

He pulls you against his chest and holds you close under his covers. "Get some rest," he whispers. "I'll go make you something to eat. Maybe.. do you want some water? Or tea? It'll help you relax."

"okay," you whisper, leaning into the warmth of his chest. "okay."

────୨ৎ────

luka nation RISE 🙌

-venus

side note: i think luka fans lowk adores me 😭😭

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P9]

(Yandere × Reader)

[Series link]

[Warning: obsessiveness, misogyny, sexism, harrassment, explicit language, violence, mentions of sex]

(Dead from work. Enjoy. Here is what u came for. Anyway, tell me what u think. Talk to me. Ik i havent been responsive (busy) but i wanna read ur comments 🫶 love u stay well and stay away from people like my OCs)

He never knew how good it tastes to bite the hands that fed him.

Better some of you than none of you, Lukas thought when his eyes refused to leave your body as you sat by the pool with a beer in your hands. The humid air hung heavy beneath rumbling thunder, but no rain yet. The villa was quiet sans the sound of wind and waves. Lukas felt sticky under his shirt as he shifted, trying to see your face but couldn't. The bedside lamp casted light through the uncurtained glass wall against your back, soft and yellow like saw dust. You didn't talk. He didn't know what to say - you had Yuki on your mind and he had your brutal fist on his. This wouldn't go anywhere nice.

He clicked his tongue and took a sip from his can.

"Something on your mind?" - you asked, face turned away.

"Nothing at all."

"You seem pensive."

No, you do.

"Maybe just the stress of trying to readjust to a new way of life."

"You're doing well."

"Well... thank you."

Words failed him. His head raced to piece together something to say that wouldn't make the friction between you and him worse. He couldn't. Lukas no longer wanted to make small talks about bullshits like "how do you like Phuket so far" or "how many siblings do you have". He was tired of trying to get to know you politely. He wanted to rip through the layers and get messy - "we're small and scared. Please, let me into your arms", he wanted to say, the fire in his stomach sending heat through his whole body, his fingers itching to reach for your skin.

You were angry at Yuki, no? He probably fucked up - men always do. Yuki probably did what men do best - use and discard. After all, sex is the ultimate currency in their sphere. Lukas wondered if Yuki felt good after having had you. Did he brag? Did he laugh about the way he made you buck and squirm with his friends?

Lukas turned his gaze away, feeling guilt brewing in his stomach. You wouldn't know about all that. You probably woke up in Yuki's arms smiling, thinking that the intimacy meant something. But Yuki would turn cold. They all do. He had you, and he had the nods and murmurs from the douchebags he hung out with. And now there you were, sitting by the edge of the small pool, wondering what you did wrong, asking yourself questions like "was that all I am to him".

Lukas wanted to throw up thinking about it. He tried hard not to realize the reason he could imagine the intricacies of your situation so vividly, but the thought had taken roots. He knew because he had done it all. He wasn't any better.

But he could learn. That was the difference. And what more... he could atone. He would gladly take your punishment. Lukas felt his fingertips playing with the silver chain on his neck, pulling it around as if to scratch an itch he had yet felt. His eyes found their ways back to you who had not said a word, your arms pulling your knees to your chest. He swallowed dryly.

He could learn. He could be good for you. Yuki couldn't do that - the man left you sad and confused, likely unaware that under your calm surface you were a storm. He didn't stop to see the look in your eyes now when you fixed them upom the sky - resilient, yet filled with disappointment. You expected better from Yuki and he failed to deliver. That was on him - he was flawed and spineless, unable to let you in.

But Lukas could.

Before he could think of anything to say, a flash of light cut through the sky. You didn't flinch. "This one will be loud", you said. Lukas braced for the thunder, his body tensing up. "Yeah", he replied, his voice suddenly weak. He jumped at the cracking thunder, his head ringing.

"Are you okay?" - you asked, sounding cold as usual.

"No, yeah", he tried to match your tone but couldn't, heaving, "Just a little startled."

"A Texan who's scared of thunder... what do you know..."

He laughed, barely containing the high he felt seeing that you had engaged in some sort of personal conversation with him for once.

"You got me."

"The thunder did. I'm just sitting here."

He was aware that he was smiling big, but he didn't know how to stop that. Lukas wanted to say something else, but before he could, he felt water on his skin. The rain came down hard and quick. In the moment he took to react, it had already curtained the scene white.

"Ah...", he heard you said past the rainfall. You were sopping wet like him, your thin summer clothes clinging to your skin, showing him almost everything he wanted to see. The rain was cold, yet he could not beat the heat.

You stood up. He followed. You didn't seem to be in a hurry when you pried your glass door open and let him in with you, spashing the curtain and carpet. Something inside him clicked when the sound of rain sounded distant so suddenly, leaving the air filled with your breaths and the dripping of your clothes. Standing around awkwardly, he watched you who returned his gaze. Lukas felt the hair on his arms standing up when you asked:

"Are you cold?"

___

Yuki wanted to peel the skin off his body to see if the crawling discomfort would cease. He felt restless. Squirming in the uncomfortable arm chair, he watched the storm rage on, thrashing against the window. He couldn't even go for a smoke when he needed it most. Biting on his nails, Yuki felt the uncomfortable queasiness all over himself like a swarm of spiders.

He wanted to talk to you.

Yuki knew he handled the first night he spent with you poorly. He talked of family too soon. He still couldn't think of one good reasons why he did it. When you looked away and avoided his question about regrets, a switch flipped in his braim and made him stupid. Did you regret sleeping with him? He would hate that. Perhaps that was why his first reaction was to lock you down with hints of family and marriage. Juvenile and stupid, no different than Lukas. Fuck. He was just afraid to lose you.

Even now, he still felt the lump in his throat. It sucked that he wanted you so bad. For a long time, he thought he was dead inside when it came to intimacy - he only knew panic, only knew to look for the door when someone got too close. Yuki couldn't find it in himself to put his lips on another's, much less doing what he did to you when he was still in office clothes, smelling of sweat and cigarette. He didn't vomit after. When he finished and look at you still holding onto him in disarray, Yuki thought that he was at the right place. It was simple and natural - he wanted you and you wanted him.

It didn't take him long, though, to flip the script. Maybe he wanted you, and you wanted to escape your family that lurked at the other end of your calls, their shadow looming over you even when their bodies were plane flights away. He thought of that when you fell asleep by his side, the skin on your face no longer carved in by your exhaustion. In that moment, he felt like just another giant of your bad dreams, casting his own shadow on you. Were you running away and just happened to find yourself in his arms? He couldn't sleep well that night, not at that thought, but at another more sinister one he failed to deny.

He would gladly be your safe haven.

The moment that thought took form, Yuki felt a twist in his stomach. He didn't bother to deny the idea - no excuses of "that was just an intrusive thought" or "I only wanted to support her". When he slipped out of bed and into your bathroom, he knew what he saw in the mirror. He was no misunderstood artist, he was no kindhearted colleague, and he was definitely no reliable friend. He was a spider waiting for you to flail your way into his web, and once you did he had every intention to keep you there. He wouldn't mind you getting in more troubles, as long as you come running back to him. He would make it nice and cozy for you. With him, you could surrender your guards and let him take the lead. No more calls from your brother asking for money nor threats from your mother to fly you back. He could legitimize your citizenship with marriage... maybe even a beautiful child. His family may push back, but he doubted they could disown their only son.

Yuki didn't like the way his reflection look, so he put those thoughts away only for them to come spilling out when you were vague about "regret". He hated that he couldn't contain his perversion for long - the desire for you to suffer enough that you would fall into his arm was a poison he wanted to seal away, but alas he didn't have any self control after all. He was just like the new brat that fawned over you, eager to gnaw and rip at your edges.

__

You didn't care for Lukas' begging eyes when he sat at the corner of your room, far away from you. "Go back to your room", you said for the second time yet, "you must feel less cold by now". Around him wrapped the gigantic towel you found in your bathroom, the one he asked for when you made the dumb mistake of worrying enough to say "are you cold". He looked down shamefully when he whispered "can I be here? I'm afraid of thunders."

You didn't buy it. No way a man this grown would be so scared of thunder. Your face scrunched up as you leaned against the bedside drawer, your arms taking the warmth of the lamp. He wanted to be near you, that much was obvious, but you didn't quite expect this display of pathetic pleading. You wondered if he ever tried it before and if he did, if it worked. You didn't like it.

"Lukas... look, I think you're drunk. Go get changed and sleep it off. I won't tell anyone that you're scared of thunders, okay?"

You felt like you were talking patiently to a pet that would not quite get your idea but may get your tone.

"No, I'm not drunk."

At that, you rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly, finding a twinge of amusement in your annoyance.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable", you tried to talk again, even slower this time, "but this isn't a good look, no? You and I in here... people will talk."

"Nobody is coming, you know?"

His voice was firm now, and much more sober than you expected. Your eyes snapped back at him who returned the favor, awfully calm now. At least you got your confirmation - he wasn't afraid. Never was.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nobody is coming. Not with this storm."

At that, he stood up, the towel slipping off him. Lukas did not stumble when he walked over to you, his footstep quiet and slow the same way a cat walked when it saw a bird perching somewhere in a backyard bush. You didn't find it threatening at all, though. Unlike a helpless starling, you knew what to do.

When he reached you and the modest distance forced you to push against the cold wall, you let out a tired scoff.

"I'm sorry if I ever gave you the wrong idea, Lukas, but I'm not interested in you that way. Please, just leave, and we can pretend that this never happened."

"I don't want to do that."

His voice was soft now, his warm breath brushing your cheek. He did not raise an arm. Neither did you. You didn't want it to come to violence.

"You're overstepping."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

You smiled bitterly, getting weary of his stupid games. Deciding not to escalate the situation, you looked away. He didn't let your lack of reaction stop him from adding to his stupidity:

"Really, what are you going to do? Do you realize what's happening right now?"

You couldn't help but laughed in his face. He didn't find it so funny. Perhaps you insulted his masculinity? They usually hated it when you did that. Curiously, the look he had on right now did not seem like one of anger or lust. He seemed eager... for what, you were not quite sure.

"I'm warning you", you bluntly said, dropping the smile completely, "you still have this chance."

"Seems like you gave me plenty of chances so far."

Your blood boiled. You didn't know from where he got the idea that this was endearing or sexy. This sucked, and you were getting impatient by the minutes. Your right eye twitched, and you could feel the corner of your mouth pulling into a nasty scowl. Getting hot from your anger, you let the way his eyes widen in expectation escape you.

"This isn't funny, Lukas."

"Isn't it?"

His hands reached to you. Instinctively dodging it, you found yourself trapped between him and the wall as he laid his palms to the side of your head, his heap of black hair tickling your forehead. He grinned smugly, baring his white teeth.

"I find it very funny...", he cooed, lifting his hand to try and touch your neck.

You decided that that was enought. Grabbing his wrist and pulling it, you forced his body down and landed your knee on his chest, hard. Lukas let out a pained groan and fell forward, collapsing to your feet. As you stepped over him to get away, you couldn't help but wonder if his body was limp from the alcohol, or if he never intended to fight back. You watched his back while he pitifully trembled, hand clutching where you hit him.

"Get the fuck out", you coldly demanded. He didn't say anything for a moment, still heaving from the shock.

You planned to grab him by the scuff of his stupid button down and drag him out. Before you could, you heard your doorbell ring.

Blood turning cold, you let your eyes dart between Lukas and the door, wondering how to deal with the situation. You didn't even stop to think who could be coming to you at this hour, in this weather. The silence hung in the air, heavy and thick. It seemed forever until you heard a voice trying to get to you past the storm.

"Please, if you don't mind... Would you let me in?"

Yuki.

If anyone would understand, it would be him. You felt a burst of relief exploding in your chest as you rushed to let him in. Your hands had reached the handle and cracked the door open when Lukas, still in pain, had managed to crawl on all four and throw himself at you, his wet arms clinging around your leg as Yuki stared in horror. "Help me", you choked out and swung the door open wide, letting Yuki in along with the rainfall. Under you, Lukas had broken down into sobs.

"Please... don't go. I will be good."