#or rather I befriend cats

[verdaneart]

THIS APPLIES STRONGLY TO MANY ANIMALS!!

I'm gonna go over cats and ASD specifically, since that's what I'm most familiar with, and it illustrates my point a bit better.

So, Cats are perhaps the most common animal associated with high functioning Autism (or level 1 if you keep up with trends), and there's a good pile of reasons why.

Generally high intelligence

Sensitivity issues

Lack of social understanding

There's a lot more, go read All Cats are on the Autism Spectrum for me. I'm too tired to write it all out.

So why does the connection between cats and ASD youth matter?

Because it's extremely well known that training a cat with negative reinforcement is virtually impossible.

Cats don't speak any Human languages. They have no concept of what's right and wrong to a human. They're just minding their own business, doing what they think they should be doing, and out of nowhere, this human is suddenly mean to them. What was wrong? They have no way of understanding, making them paranoid as to when it might happen next. Punishment shuts them down, because they don't want to risk being hurt again to find out.

But what if you reward them instead?

Minding their own business, and then congratulated, given a treat or some loving. What did they do to cause that? They're not sure, but because there was a good outcome, they'll keep trying to do whatever it was they might have been doing. There's no damage or fear of failing, so they actively try to figure out what it is that is wanted from them.

Yes, you shouldn't give a cat a bunch of treats as they try to figure it out. Thing is, studies have shown that many cats prefer the praise of their owners over a bit of food! On top of that, switching the rewards around can keep things fresh and encouraging, promoting the development of more positive behaviors.

Humans are animals too- children simply have yet to be broken out of the instincts so many species are built on.

Treat your kid like a cat. Offer only explanation and positive reinforcement, and things will go smoothly.

Were you ever spanked as a child AND do you think that spanking is ok?

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. You’re stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[sylvestreries]

Sometimes, I get real emotional about my cat. My oldest cat, my bébouchat, my shadow. The one I keep seeing, in the corner of my eye everywhere. My scarf in winter and grand appreciator of sardine oil on my hands in the summer, after the happy barbecues with papa. My confidant, and the one who always kept my secrets from maman. The one who I could believe loved me, the one I was always consistent and secure with. Even when most of my education said I was something that either did, or should not exist. It was always unclear. And that I should also choose whoever I wanted to be. Which, adding up to the feeling I did not exist properly, was otherworldly. My cat, who played with my shadows on the walls, reminded me I did, in fact, exist. and that I could just, be sad sometimes. and he would curl around my chest and softly purr, and everything would be fine. And sometimes, I still get real emotional about that soft faceted-eyed black cat, with a tiny dot of white on his soft belly, and the sweetest voice, and the gentlest purr. My witch cat, my elderly cat, my teenage years cat, my parents' cat. Shadow. And I am grateful he's such a sweet guide for the realm he's named after.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ

[29.8k] Pairing | Luke Hughes x afab!reader Summary | if y/n knew how their friendship would play out, she would’ve never spoken to Luke in the first place. Now she finds herself in a game of cat and mouse except she’s ready to surrender. But he’s not. Warnings | 18+ smut, angst, childhood friends to lovers, swearing, underage drinking, dry humping, choking, making out, praise kink, size kink, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), very creepy behaviour towards y/n, protected sex Authors Note | slow burning again. Covid also never happened. This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes ♫ love lost - mac miller [small worlds masterlist]

The house next door to the L/n’s had been vacant for six years after they moved to the lake until the Hughes’ moved in with their three boys. To say the l/ns were relieved to have neighbours finally would be a significant understatement, they were running straight to the Hughes’ front door with offerings of freshly baked cookies and a two-year-old y/n tucked in their arms. It started a beautiful friendship between families, but temperamental summers when the Hughes’ would return to the lake. 

When y/n and Luke first met, they had been no older than a couple of five-year-olds with faces slathered in sun cream and the highest peak of curiosity in the world. She and her father had been seconds away from taking their boat out onto the lake, a bow-seated bowrider that most of the lake's inhabitants owned, but to the Hughes boys next door, it was the coolest thing they’d seen. Before they knew it, Jim was dragged across the docks by Jack, Quinn keeping up with Luke behind them. Y/n’s dad stood up, placing his hands on his hips in a typical dad manner, chuckling while y/n snapped her head around to face the docks. 

“Apologies about him,” Jim smiled, referring to his middle son’s enthusiasm. Quinn and Luke stayed tucked into Jim’s sides, “He’s got far too much energy.”

“He’s all right, anything I can do for you?” her dad asked. Y/n’s eyes jumped between all three boys, she knew they’d lived next door during the summer for years, but she’d never really spoken to them, Quinn was nine, and that was scary enough, not that he looked scary with his brown hair sticking out from under his cap and gentle eyes. Jack was a dirty-blond, eight-year-old ball of energy with a constant smile on his face, she heard him in his garden all the time. Luke was the shyest, but he had the cheesiest grin out of them all. 

“Ellen and I are about to head off to view a boat, actually. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to take the boys out with you? I’m hoping it’ll get them used to the waters.”

Y/n perked up, looking back at her dad and then back at the boys buzzing on their toes, eyes glowing under the sun, and she held her tiny hand out towards Luke, “Yeah! Come, come!” 

It was safe to say that after a full day of exploring the lake, listening to the boys talk about hockey, reminding them to sit still, her father had never been more grateful to only have two children, one being a daughter who seemed to love bossing Jack (specifically) around. 

*

That was how the two families managed to occupy the children as rambunctious kids. Shuffling them between each other, introducing various activities from each other's lives just to cure their boredom and get them befriended. The boat trip had been such a success that Jack had insisted they teach y/n mini sticks, her brother was only two and still far more interested in what toys he could chew on. So, they did just that, Quinn gently teaching the rules and watching over the younger ones, especially when Jack got really into it. But it was Luke who’d stick to her like glue, choosing her as his teammate every time, whacking his brothers if they hurt y/n (which they giggled about, planning to bring it up later).  

Another day when the weather was particularly calm, Ellen and Mr. L/n took the children paddleboarding, Jack and Quinn picking it up rather quickly, able to stand on their feet when both used the board together. That didn’t last long when Jack supposedly elbowed Quinn in the back, resulting in the eldest Hughes shoving Jack into the water, which then meant the board capsized and both boys became drenched. Y/n and Luke giggled, opting to sit on their board cross-legged and facing each other, talking about their favourite TV shows and school stories. Ellen thought it was a sweet sight, her little Luke warming up to someone, having a refuge from Toronto, someone of his own so he wouldn’t be confined to his brothers all the time. Not that that was a bad thing, but the other two boys had people at the lake they knew, their own friends and he seemed to adore her, just as she adored him the same. 

*

Every year the nearby town held a carnival that featured rides, food stalls, almost impossible games and the public’s favourite, the firework display. The one night a summer when everyone seemed to spring to life, families, couples, and friends, all came together for the memories. Strings of fairy lights hanging around the walkways, colourful, flashing stalls and rides with music drowning out under the crowd’s chatter and the floods of people making it too easy to get lost in. It was one night Luke in particular would never forget, fear shook him to his core seeing how busy the walkways were, and how big the world was and he concluded that if he was scared, y/n must’ve been too.

Both families attended together with a chain of their children clinging to them, weaving in and out of people just to reach a good spot for the fireworks. Quinn hated it the most, somehow, he had been roped into getting Jack through (who made it his goal to play every game possible), clutching his wrist while Jack complained about his grip and that he was pulling him too fast. Ellen guided Luke through, and Luke’s hand held y/n’s in a vice grip, as tight as he could for a child. He couldn’t look at her though, his cheeks burned pink the whole time and he concentrated too hard on getting away from the crowd, y/n with him. He thought he’d cry if he lost her. 

It was then that Luke experienced butterflies for the first time. The moment they reached the fireworks spot, both families huddled together, ear defenders ready in case they got frightened by popping and squealing. But not Luke and y/n, the only thing clutched in their hands were each other. The comfort of another was all it took to rid the fear, children don’t seem to mind if their hands are clammy, they held each other's hand as the fireworks lit up the sky in beautiful shades of reds, oranges, yellows in bouquets and whistles to willows and cackles, the first display they’d remember and have reflect in their beady eyes of awe. He squeezed her hand, turning his head to search for any fear in her face but she gazed back at him, lips grinning as his blond curls bounced in the breeze. They never let go, even when they didn’t need to hold each other anymore.

*

Crickets chirped throughout her garden, fairy lights running along the fence illuminating ever so slightly in the dark. No chatter from the docks, lights in the house absent and the time hitting midnight on the dot when young voices, terrible at whispering broke through the silence. 

“Luke, move over!” she kicked his leg, attempting to roll away from the box of board games next to her.

“I can’t, the wall is there!” Luke protested, rolling into y/n, trying to shove her back to her side. 

Group sleepovers are the pinnacle of good times but also the cause of a war. Y/n had a treehouse in her garden before she was born, her dad had built it after having fond memories from his childhood when he had one. Her mother suggested she invite the Hughes boys over one night since they weren’t far, and the treehouse had board games and cushions in there anyway, all they needed were sleeping bags and roll mats and they were set and wouldn’t be disturbed, as long as they closed the door. 

It wasn’t large, a squeeze, in fact, the four top-to-tailing (Luke and y/n together in the smaller section, Quinn and Jack in the larger where there wasn’t a big box) but it was cosy and as long as Jack kept his arms and legs in his sleeping bag, everyone would be happy. Except he didn’t. Just before they were about to fall asleep, Quinn was awoken by a Skittle bouncing off his head and rattling against the wood. He ignored it until another hit him. Then a Skittle hit Jack, who threw one at y/n and Jack failed to stifle his giggles until someone smacked him with a pillow. Y/n grinned, watching the boy pout but grab his own and hit Quinn, whose eyebrows couldn’t have knitted any further into his forehead as he, with a stronger momentum, swung around and whacked Jack clean around the face. 

“Oh Lu~” she chimed, watching him shield himself with his own pillow. She hit him but softer than she’d hit Jack and the four fell into a pattern of giggles and pillow swinging, burning all that pent-up energy children had. It was moments like those that brought the fondest memories to people, the ones that stuck with people forever and no matter how much time passes, the memory stays in the very place where it all happened. Always. People never forget things that made them laugh until their stomachs ached, even if they did get scolded in the morning for going to sleep too late or being too noisy. The memory never fades. Everything always stays.

When Luke was eleven, his family moved officially to Michigan, on the opposite side of the lake. The town separated them, albeit not far, he still wished he could live next to her all the time, but that would’ve taken the magic out of the vacation home. She was still the girl next door but now they’d get to see each other every day instead of once a year, he could invite her over to his, hang out on the weekends, after school, and visit all the places she used to talk about. He could see his best friend all the time.

Y/n hadn’t known about the Hughes’ move. Of course, her parents told her they were moving out of Toronto but where to be a guessing game. Out of all places, it was at school she discovered they’d moved to Michigan when the locker next to hers had been given a new lock. She closed her locker door and turned to take her leave for class until she came face to face with Luke Hughes and his bright blond curls, standing next to her just as awestruck as she was. They broke into smiles, arms thrown around shoulders and faces buried into necks, hugging until the final warning bell rang.

If you had asked Luke at the time if he liked y/n, he would’ve rejected the idea profusely out of embarrassment, but even years on, he still attached himself to her at the hip. He didn’t know what love felt like, or what a crush felt like at that age, but he did know that he always felt this warm sensation in his chest when he was around her, like flowers blooming and he couldn’t help but smile and tune the rest of the world out when she spoke. He’d always ask her for homework help, even if he knew the answers, he just wanted to hear her talk. If her friends received compliments and gifts from other boys, he’d provide her with them. When she didn’t have a partner, she’d find him. When she cried, she cried into him, when he’d lose his temper, she was his serenity. 

He remembered the first time she bawled her eyes out to him, clear as day and the first time he’d seen her vulnerable. He had been flustered through and through, never having a girl throw herself into him and nuzzle into his neck the way she did, tears soaking his hoodie’s collar and arms winding around his torso tight. He rubbed her back timidly, copying what his dad did when his mum was upset and let her cry at their lockers, the hallway scarce of anyone else but her muffled sobs and his hammering heartbeat. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, his stomach sinking.

Y/n sniffed, turning her head and pressing her ear to his shoulder, avoiding his gaze, “It’s stupid.”

“Well, it’s not if you’re crying.” 

“Basically, Mark C had this list that ranked most pretty to least pretty out of me and my friends and he and his friends put me at the bottom and it’s stupid because it doesn’t do anything but then he said that ‘there’s always an ugly one’. Jenny found it and tore it up.” She babbled, tears soaking his hoodie, but he didn’t mind. He just held her tighter, stroking her back until she’d cried herself dry.

“He’s such a jerk, I think you’re the prettiest, so he was wrong anyway.” Luke, fuelled by a bitter taste in his mouth, hadn’t thought through what he had said or the weight of it and spoke from his mind. Hearing that a boy thought she was pretty and openly admitted it without shame or fear exiled any sort of misery from her. Somehow, and she didn’t understand why at that age, it meant everything that it came from Luke. Luke who’d grown up with her and seen her worst moments already (like horrifically sunburnt). 

She squeezed him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to throw around compliments or comments, he was a thinker, just like his oldest brother.

“Do you wanna come over? We can watch movies and I’m sure we can drop you home.” He asked, his voice soft. She pulled back, hands fisting his hoodie, eyes sore and puffy and Luke felt his heart shatter at the sight of her sadness. She nodded eagerly, failing to contain the smile that crept onto her lips. She couldn’t help it, Luke just did that, and had that effect on her.

It was just a movie to make y/n feel better, but Luke being the youngest of three meant he fell victim to relentless teasing from his brothers the moment he got home. With bags dumped in the hallway, he and y/n made it to the large living room that opened into the dining room on the right-hand side which overlooked sliding doors into the garden, a breakfast bar dividing the kitchen and dining. Jack’s eyes lit up, first, engulfing her into a bear hug and then wiggling his eyebrows at Luke. Quinn simply ruffled both their hair and took his seat on one of the sofas, engrossed in his phone. 

“Woah, look at Lukey bringing a girl home, we only got here a week ago an-” Jack started announcing but Ellen soon ushered him quietly, guiding Luke and y/n into the living room. She apologised for the mess, they had only recently moved in and there was still a lot of decorating to complete. The basics were down, sofas, TV above the fireplace, and dining table in the dining room but the place lacked photos and other miscellaneous decor for now. 

“What do you wanna watch, Lu?” she curled up on the sofa, tucking herself into the armrest. Luke sat next to her, an awkward distance between them.

“You choose, I would pick Harry Potter, obviously.” He slumped into the backrest so his feet could reach the coffee table, just about.

“Harry Potter’s good, put that on.” Luke did, loading up Netflix and hitting play. He wanted to do something, cut the awkward air between the two of them but she seemed happy curled up in the corner, but he imagined her cuddled into him instead. Y/n burned to lean into Luke, bathe in his embrace again, the warmth of sitting close to someone and perhaps she would have if Quinn left the room. It wasn’t like he was paying attention to them, so she readjusted and shuffled closer to Luke, butterflies flittering in her stomach as she closed that awkward gap between the two of them. Luke glanced over to Quinn, but quickly turned back to her and sat up straight, turning his body into hers in return and putting his attention back onto the film. 

They hadn’t made it halfway through the film when they fell asleep, Quinn too. Y/n’s head lay on Luke’s shoulder, his head leaning on hers. It was tough work surviving a day of school, clearly, but at least they were comfortable. The whole house fell into a silence, if a pin were to drop, the rattling against the floor would echo. When Jack emerged from his room, he genuinely thought he’d been home alone the whole time and crept down the stairs, flinching when he accidentally kicked a hockey glove to the bottom. He hung a left into the living room, catching sight of Quinn knocked out with his hood pulled over his head and Luke and y/n cuddled together, Harry Potter still playing on the TV. He could have woken Quinn, he could have woken Luke and teased him red, but he fumbled in his pocket for his phone, snapped a photo of his little brother and scooted around the house to find Ellen as if he had a rare treasure to show her. Sometimes siblings aren’t all that bad. 

*

The summer of twenty-fifteen worked slightly differently than either family were used to. The l/n’s were used to having an eleven-year-old and an eight-year-old, with the additional two teenagers and Luke next door but now Jack was allowed to bring his friends Trevor and Cole. That was four teenagers, two pre-teens and a child, the Hughes’ now with two cars on their drive and double the noise level. Jack’s friends weren’t trouble, though. Trevor was like Jack, loud and full of spirit while Cole was on the quieter side, yet still as adventurous as the other two. When Jim had told the l/n’s the situation, y/n’s parent's souls were sucked straight from their bodies, how were they supposed to entertain that many kids? 

One tradition that hadn’t changed was the carnival. That still stayed but the world wasn’t so big to them anymore. The fairy lights stayed, the food and game stalls were still the same, the rides had been refurbished and chatter still muffled the music. They had the strength to move through the crowds on their own now, recognise each other amongst the people and knew exactly where their meeting point was. Quinn was relieved he didn’t have to babysit Jack anymore, he met up with his friend Brady before the firework display. Jack, Trevor and Cole played every game they could afford with brotherly competitiveness raging through them and Luke still held her hand above it all. Weaving through bodies, hand clasped in his, she followed him with every ounce of trust she had, feeling a spark surge between them and watching his ears tint pink when she squeezed. When they’d arrived at the spot, the parents were already huddled together, Jack and his musketeers arriving shortly after with various prizes hanging around their necks and stuffed under their arms and Quinn arrived last. They weren’t huddled as close as they all had been in previous years, the little groups seeming to form their own huddles and Luke and y/n were included in that pattern, standing slightly to the side, almost in their own world. 

Spinners of blues, glitters of whites and brocades of purples painted the inky sky in tune with the song that played in the background, following every beat almost perfectly. Their hands became warm in each other's hold, almost too warm but letting go would’ve felt wrong and awkward, especially since the electric feeling felt too good. Maybe they were too old to be holding hands now, there wasn’t much of a point anymore but perhaps they felt like it was all they had left of the innocence of childhood before school got harder, friendships got messier and before everyone started changing. Luke peered over at her, smitten by the way the fireworks always brought a smile to her face. She had such a lovely smile, the kind where her eyes crinkled in the corners, and she was confident about showing teeth. A burst of adrenaline shot through him, and images of couples he’d seen around flashed through his mind and maybe he would regret it, maybe he would burn hotter than his sunburn but at least he could say he tried. 

With a hitched breath, Luke placed a sweet, quick kiss on her cheek before turning back to the sky above as if he’d done nothing at all. Her eyes widened and her head whipped around to look at him, confirming as if she hadn’t been dreaming and the way he smiled victoriously gave her every answer to her questions. 

“Luke!” he flinched at his name, eyes wide, his worst fear hitting him like a brick; did someone see that? Was he about to be yelled at for kissing a girl’s cheek? Is Jack or Quinn going to chirp him for the rest of his life about it? He sheepishly turned towards his family, only to have relief wash over him when it was just Ellen calling him and y/n over. 

“I want a photo of you and your brothers,” Ellen called, and he and y/n shuffled over, hearts thumping in their chests with cheeky smiles that kept a secret only they would ever know. 

Quinn, Jack and Luke stood together, Luke in the middle wearing his University of Michigan fleece (which he wasn’t sure who it actually belonged to), Quinn on one side, hands tucked into the sleeves of his grey hoodie and Jack on the other, who, for reasons unknown, decided to don an all-burgundy jacket and beanie in the middle of summer. Neither of the boys smiled, more so due to being forced into a photo with everyone else watching and giggling at them but unknown to them at the time, that photo would be hung up on their staircase and be one of the favourites. 

*

The problem with growing up is that the big world starts to become smaller and more enclosed. You learn and feel new things that you never thought existed. Unfortunately, the group found out the hard way that things change. The ladder on y/n’s treehouse had rotted over the winter, but her father replaced it with a staircase instead, for ease but she thought it looked cooler that way. It also made getting the mugs of hot chocolate into the treehouse easier than it would have been. But because everyone had grown, and they’d gained two extra bodies, it meant the inside was even more of a squeeze than before, even after replacing the large box of board games with a small cabinet instead. Top-to-tailing once again, Jack, Cole and Trevor on one end with Quinn, Luke and y/n on the other, but this time Jack was kept awake by Trevor’s snoring. He should have expected it really, it was usually him keeping everyone up with his antics, but he loathed how everyone else managed to fall asleep but him, but he hated more that if he dared wake anyone, he’d be sleeping outside. 

He couldn’t blame everyone for being out cold, they’d spent the afternoon making friendship bracelets, Luke and y/n giving each other matching blue ones that he just knew would become the most prized possessions with the way their eyes lit up. Jack may have been loud and chatty, but he observed his brothers intensely and learned vicariously and what he figured out was that his little brother was utterly obsessed with this girl he desperately tried sitting closer and closer to. Luke even blew on her hot chocolate, the way Quinn used to do for him. To think that an eleven-year-old made bolder moves than he did. Quinn had told him to lay off Luke, let him be enamoured and that it was sweet to watch him break out of his comfort zone. Of course, the eldest knew exactly what it was like to feel so tucked away in your shell all the time, so if anyone was rooting for Luke and y/n, it was Quinn. 

The air around her slowly warmed, her shivering stopping and a hot breath fanning across her pillow. Opening her eyes a crack, Luke’s curls fell in front of his eyes, sleeping bag zipped to his lips and he shuffled closer to her. If this was his way of cuddling, she accepted it immediately, shuffling closer until foreheads almost touched.

“Goodnight, y/n.” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Lu.”

*

Jack vaulted over the sofa, clutching the diary to his chest and manically laughing as Luke chased him desperately, with sheer panic in his eyes and a face redder than Cole’s sunburn. Luke had never felt so hot in his life, never wanted the ground to swallow him up more. He wished he’d never let Jack in his room, he wished he’d been more careful and tidied his room when he was asked because everything from that point further could have been prevented. 

“C’mon Jack! Give it back!” Luke whined, lunging at his brother, who dodged him. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought it too!”

“It doesn’t matter if I’ve thought it, you wrote it down!” Jack teased, opening the diary above his head to read more of the paragraphs. More of Luke’s deepest secrets. “I think y/n’s the prettiest girl in my grade and even the world, I like her smile a lot and she makes me feel all tingly when she laughs.” 

“Shut up! Muuuum!” 

Jack eventually handed the diary back, his laughing taunting Luke as this was now something that would hang over him for the rest of his life, be brought up every summer until the end of time and he begged the universes and any deity out there that Jack didn’t spill the secret. He was awful at keeping secrets. He and y/n were best friends. She didn’t even feel the same anyway, or at least he thought but, if he was lucky, perhaps took the risk, even just once, it could work out. What was the worst that could happen?

“Lukey and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Jack sang, eventually ending the tune with kissing noises as Luke's face grew redder and redder. If he could hit him with no consequences, he would’ve hit him hundreds of times, he wished he was big enough to cross-check him hard next time they were on ice. 

“Shut up!” Luke yelled and shoved him, but Jack repeated the song, “Mum! Tell him to stop!” 

“Your face is so red! You do think she's pretty! Wait ‘til the other’s hear this!” 

“Jack, stoooop!”

Jack grinned like a menace, running away through the sliding doors and through the yard towards the dock, “QUINN! Luke has a crush on y/n!”

To Jack, it was harmless, brotherly teasing. They’d make up, move on and forget about it. They couldn’t do anything anyway, Jim and Ellen would scold him (or Quinn) for messing with Luke if they continued, and y/n would find out and everything would be ruined. So, it became a Hughes secret, and everyone would let Luke pine himself to death and decide if he wanted to make a move or not. And Luke’s nerves exploded. His mind raced and emotions tangled into a knot. He was still a growing boy, he didn’t know anything, and he was just about to begin middle school and after that high school where y/n would likely and undoubtedly make new friends, like other boys and he’d fade into the distance as nothing but the boy next door. If anyone were to have their heart broken it would be him, and he’d do everything to ensure that never happened.

When you start high school as a freshman, you don this mentality that you’re a lot older than you are. Perhaps it’s because you’re in a larger school with kids a year to four years older than you are, you’re all mature now. You dress better, follow trends, are influenced by the people around you and the media, and develop into your own person and your classes are more challenging. Yet, there are twice as many people, twice as many judging eyes, people you know and others you’ve never seen before. People openly tell you your flaws, force you into a shell and all the rumours brainwash the consensus and nobody knows what’s real and what’s not, if there’s a correct way to wear something, enjoy something, who was in your league and who was far out. 

But it was also a clean slate for most. When Luke and y/n started high school, their friendships hadn’t merged like they used to. Luke found his crowd, like-minded boys who enjoyed sports and finding ways to cure teenage boredom and y/n found hers, a mix of different personalities that found common interests out of the blue. The differing schedules and groups pulled them apart more than they had liked, only sharing two classes in the end and Luke despised whoever made their timetables. She’d pout when they compared schedules, a violent urge to cry knowing she wouldn’t see his smile and curly hair every day, wouldn’t be able to find him easily for a hug when she needed it, and wouldn't have him by her side anymore. When she’d looked back up at him, with glossy eyes, his stomach dropped, and he knew exactly how she felt. He opened his arms and let her bury her face into his chest, arms winding around her, and they both mourned the loss of being two peas in a pod as dramatically as angsty teenagers would.

He did his best to see her at her locker, leaving cute little notes through the vents with hearts doodled under the message. He smiled and talked to her in the halls, they hung out after school when they could, he glared at anyone who dared talk shit about her and they hugged whenever one had a bad day, Luke hanging on longer, always. But as he’d feared, she had shown interest in other boys like his efforts had been wasted, and other boys had reciprocated but for some reason when they left cute notes, it was romantic, not that led to anything. But seeing the real world lit the fire under him, he needed to be a go-getter now, do something.

*

Nothing sucked at the lake though. There was no competition at the lake, no interruptions and he had the whole summer to make a singular move, or at least drop a hint. That was his one goal, drop y/n a hint that he liked her. She was a smart girl; she’d catch on but if she accepted it was an entirely different anxiety. He’d watched Jack make moves on girls before, it wasn’t that hard, surely. All you had to do was just go for it. And he would if his nerves didn’t eat him alive like vultures. This was his best friend he liked; he’d cry like a baby if she rejected him but hate himself for ruining something precious more. 

Michigan could get hot during the summer, a blazing hot sometimes where the UV was high enough that thirty minutes outside, you’d feel that burning sensation along your skin. All those years ago, Jim and Ellen had bought that boat they viewed, it had sat identically to the l/n’s on the dock until Quinn had been old enough to drive it himself and take his brothers and friends out on the lake. Well, it was more like Jack’s friends as, for another year, Trevor and Cole had tagged along for their lake house getaway.

Luke had no problem with Trevor and Cole and quite liked them as people. So did y/n, maybe a bit more than the youngest Hughes liked. Y/n sat opposite them and Jack on the boat, donning her new bikini and sunglasses she begged her parents for since she wasn’t a kid anymore. Thank the heavens for those sunglasses, if either of the two had caught her staring at them, she may have just jumped overboard because they looked divine. Trevor with his flowing hair, always perfect no matter what direction the wind blew and tanned skin that glowed in the sun, immaculate humour that made anyone laugh. Cole who was the embodiment of the sun and so soft-spoken, shoulders broad with inviting arms. The boys in her grade weren’t like them, hadn’t grown into their features yet, and still had awful haircuts but not Trevor and Cole. They worked out, proudly sitting shirtless and flashing their six-packs off to the poor, fumbling girl in front of them. Her friends would have killed to be there, these guys were so much hotter than the ones she knew, but also so far out of reach that all she could do was admire them. 

Jack elbowed Trevor, subtly gesturing over to a zoned-out y/n with a playful smirk on his face. Catching onto his hint, he tensed just to watch y/n look away, attempting to play it off. The older boys chuckled, Luke sending a stabbing glare towards Jack. She’d been caught, been too sloppy and now they knew she was staring. How embarrassing. Luke shuffled closer to her, thighs pressing together as he slung his arm over the back of her seat, just as he’d seen Jack do before.

“C’mon, dude, uncool.” Luke scolded, irritation bubbling in his chest as his brother and friends laughed until they moved to the seats at the front of the boat, likely intending to get Quinn to stop so they could jump in the water. He wanted her to look at him the same way, desperately. He also worked out regularly, grew out his curls the way she liked them, and wore the clothes she said looked good on him so what was so much better about them than him? What was he doing wrong? 

Heat flushed up the back of y/n’s neck, tingles jolting through her as their skins touched softly. His arm around her felt secure like it was meant to be there and suddenly the embarrassment faded. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, listening to Luke mumble something under his breath. God was he cute when he pouted, cute that he’d stood up for her once again. He was taller, more confident, attentive, and wearing the clothes she loved on him, he’d listened when she rinsed his last haircut, completely warmed up to her presence, talking all the time with her about anything, going everywhere with her. Luke was her anchor. She leaned into his side and tucked herself into him, his muscles relaxing underneath her touch, and he hesitantly rested his head against hers, shutting the surrounding world out as they bathed in each other's company.

*

The sun gracefully set into slumber, painting the sky with gradients of oranges to yellows over the lake and the back gardens. Y/n’s legs dangled over the porch of her treehouse, facing out towards the lake and feeling the breeze through her hair, a hot chocolate still warm cupped in her hands. It was peaceful up there, next door was too loud, Jack throwing some party while Jim and Ellen refuged in her living room, chattering with her parents about all the children and presumably the Hughes boys’ NHL drafting. Her parents were hockey fans, but neither child played the sport, not seriously at least, but she knew it was Luke’s world and because of that, she made sure to attend his games when she could.

Luke’s footsteps thumped on the wood of the platform, and he took a seat next to y/n, swinging his legs back and forth over the edge. Jack’s party had become too loud to bear, and he felt the sweat radiate off the bodies he’d weaved through to leave the house, deterring him from wanting to join in. Besides, he didn’t want to be at the scene of the crime when Ellen and Jim found a broken pool cue in the basement, or a giant stain on the rug in the living room. 

“What are you doing up here?” she asked, smiling at him. Of course, she knew, but she loved seeing him smile.

“Wanted to see my favourite person, is that wrong?” Luke’s shoulders bounced when he chuckled. Something she loved about him was that when he laughed, he laughed with his body, shoulders bouncing, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, sometimes when he laughed really hard, he’d lean into her. 

“Mmm, nooo, I guess not. Just thought you’d be down there,” she gestured her head towards his house, “getting the party experience for when you make it with the big dogs.”

He screwed his face up, “There is the last place I wanna be right now. It’s a disaster and I don’t wanna be roped in with the blame. Plus, Jack’s been making out with a girl for an hour and every corner I took they were literally there, so gross. And Quinn’s at Brady’s. Would rather be here with you.”

“Well, aren’t you a cutie pie,” she teased. Luke’s ears tinted pink and she raised her mug towards him. “Want a sip?”

Without a word, his lips pressed to the mug, sipping the lukewarm hot chocolate which was more marshmallow than liquid. He wiped the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, watching her lips meet the exact spot his did. His stomach fluttered at the sight, the orange hues cascading over the two in perfect timing. She looked…beautiful. 

They fell silent for a moment, attention drawn next door as a group of guys cheered over a beer pong win, jumping into each other and loudly claiming that the winning shots were for the girls watching. They imagined that it was them, at some place in the future, at a party with their friends where they all played drinking games, and it was normal to express such things openly. Where everyone had grown out of their teenage features and minds, understanding the world a bit better and having fun was easier. Y/n knew all the girls that entered the Hughes’ house were pretty, and she admired the way they dressed and styled their hair, their confidence and no wonder the boys liked them. 

“I can’t wait to be like them one day, Lu.” She mumbled, placing her (now empty) mug to the side. “Pretty and having fun like that, they’re all so cool. My friend’s sister goes to college, and she tells the wildest stories, and how she met her boyfriend is insane.”

Luke’s mouth dried, it was now or never, and he couldn’t miss his chance again. Why were feelings so hard? Why couldn’t she see herself from his eyes? Y/n placed her hands on the platform edge, fingers curling over the side, and he glanced at them with temptation burning through him. Be a go-getter, now or never, do something. He placed his hand on hers, fingers curling the same as hers did. It was an awkward way to hold someone’s hand, sure, but you don’t really think things through when your heart is pulsing in your ears, and you think you’re about to explode in adrenaline. 

Y/n turned her head and looked at the heat on her hand, his larger one fully engulfing hers, “You looked pretty today. You look pretty all the time. I told you that years ago. I like the way you smile, and I like your bravery, the way you’re not afraid to talk to people, that you bring comfort to people. There are lots of pretty things about you other than your face. And hair…and eyes.” 

Looking up at him, their eyes met, and he wasn’t smiling. He was being real. He’d seen straight through her once again and said exactly what she needed to hear. But the way he said it came straight from his heart, his eyes never wavering away from hers like he’d been trying hard to put up a confident front. His hand squeezed hers, the sunset lighting up the green in his eyes but not in a soul-staring way, they shimmered. His words flowed through her veins, echoing around her head and wrapped around her heart like a hug and no matter how hard she had tried to suppress it, maybe she liked him a lot. And he’d just confirmed that maybe, just maybe, he may have felt similar. 

“Lu,” she asked, his gaze softening at her voice, “do you really think kissing is gross?”

He shook his head sheepishly, wetting his lips, “No…I just don’t know how to do it.”

“I can teach you,” she paused, eyes jumping to his lips and back to his eyeline, “I’ve read a lot of romance books to have an idea.” 

His voice stammered, eyebrows raising as his chest became heavier, breathing deeper until he managed to spill the words out, “You wanna kiss me?”

“Yeah, like…it wouldn't be weird because like…we’re best friends and all so…if we’re gonna learn it may as well be with each other.” Y/n avoided his eyes, looking between his lips, chest and their hands on the decking. They were warm, a nice warm that felt secure, the contact made her stomach flutter because yes, she had thought about kissing him, what it would feel like, if it was acceptable, what he would think of her and if he wanted to kiss her too. 

“Yeah, it’s not weird if we kiss.” Luke piped up, hand leaving hers and fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his eyes, “I wanna kiss you too.”

Y/n nodded lightly, confidence driving her to lean closer into him and the world fell silent. Luke short-circuited, he really should have asked his brothers for advice before agreeing but he wasn’t going to be a coward when she was right there, her eyes fluttering closed, and he copied. His fingers slid to cup her cheek, tilting his head in the opposite direction while his heart pulsed rapidly, faster than hockey had ever made it beat. Their lips pressed together for a closed-mouth kiss, meeting tentatively and tasting the marshmallow remnants but a new kind of euphoria burned through them for those five seconds, an addicting one that when they pulled away with uncontrollable smiles, they leant back in for another, a passionate one that lasted a few seconds longer with more confidence as they’d found comfort. 

Pulling back with eyes fluttering open, Luke’s hand covered her’s again, “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he whispered, enamoured by the high he was left on. A high that urged him to kiss her again, and again and until they couldn’t breathe. 

“Now you know how to kiss someone.” She giggled, turning back to face the sunset as if it hadn’t fazed her at all. No blush as if she’d kissed someone a million times. Like it was empty. 

And that was that. It ended as fast as it started and both fifteen-year-olds watched the sunset until the sky bled into ink and the stars rose, not a word between them. That painful desire to keep kissing her terrified Luke through to his bones. Her lack of reaction, lack of sparkle in her eyes gave him the sickening reality check that maybe it was just a kiss. That when the euphoria circled through them it only fuelled a fire in him. Had he not been clear enough when he explicitly said he wanted to kiss her? He needed to be braver, bolder. If she wasn’t picking up on hints, he’d just need to spit it out, but not now. He could barely form a sentence as he processed the storm of emotions. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Y/n whipped her head back towards the sunset, a small smile settling on her lips to mask the twisting in her stomach. The kiss felt electric, joy running through her veins and Luke’s lips on hers let a new kind of warmth flourish in her chest, one that made tingles of excitement spread through her. She could tell the kiss had him enamoured, he sat wide-eyed like she’d hung the stars out, utterly infatuated they’d just shared their first kisses. It wasn’t like she hated it, that it didn’t mean anything to her because it did, there’s no one else in the world she’d rather have her first kiss with. The problem was that it made her feel things. Things she’d never felt before and she didn’t know if she liked the kiss or if she liked Luke. She didn’t know anything, and she couldn’t risk hurting him out of her own confusion and stupidity.

Leaning up against his locker, half-listening to what his friends were talking about, Luke watched the two from across the hall, his tongue licking his top teeth as y/n laughed with the boy she was with. One year ago, he and y/n had kissed in her treehouse, and one year on he still thought about it. They hadn’t brought it up since, it didn’t matter anymore, it was only a kiss apparently. They continued their friendship like it always had been but every now and then they’d stare at each other for a little bit too long and let the memory wash over them again. 

But he still didn't like what he was watching, it felt like a festering wound in his body with the way she looked up at him with stars in her eyes. Gradually he clocked out of his friend’s conversation and tuned into y/n and mystery guy’s like a satellite. The hall wasn’t too busy, most of the crowds retreating towards the stairs, so while their voices weren’t clear, he caught the gist. It didn’t mean he was happy about it, in fact the way he spoke to her as if she were stupid didn’t quite sit with him right, how could she like him? Luke’s glare only stiffened, burned holes through the guy’s head the more he swayed her with his compliments and smiles, God was it unbearable and Luke was at his wits end with it. Weeks he had seen the two together and his croaky, fifteen-year-old self’s voice echoed, ‘be a go-getter’. 

He pushed off his locker, weaving around the passing students and just as he was so close to interfering, he wished he’d never left at all. The world moved around him, but the volume never made it, a ringing in his ears as the words left her mouth easily. 

It’s a date, see you Saturday.

He huffed with a lump in his throat, stomach dropping and his heart bleeding out his chest and onto the linoleum, but his feet didn’t move fast enough as by the time he’d processed what he’d seen, heard, his eyes met hers and he found himself approaching her. Even at sixteen, he towered over her, shoulder leaning against her locker with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes glossing but holding back the tears. 

“You two seem friendly lately, not goin’ around finding my replacement, huh?” he half-joked, trying his best to put on his signature smirk.

Y/n folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, his eyes catching sight of the friendship bracelet he made her when they were kids, “Stop it, we’re just talking. And nobody could replace you, Lulu. You’ll always be my number one bestie.” 

Bestie.

“So, where’s he taking you on Saturday? Not a walk in the woods, I hope. You know what happens there.” He didn’t care, no, no, no he didn’t. At least that’s what he had tried to tell himself. He just needed to know she was safe, yeah. That was it.

“He’s not gonna kill me, and if you must know, we’re going to the roller rink, he wants to be cute and teach me to skate.” She watched Luke cock an eyebrow; his smirk still glued to his lips as if to non-verbally ask her ‘Really? Does he not know you at all?’. “What? I tried to tell him I already knew but he insisted and like, he’s cute and he was trying so why not?”

The bell shrilled and crowds began shuffling. Luke raised his hands to surrender while she rolled her eyes, pushing him by the chest backwards towards their class as he chuckled at her, spinning around. His heart had officially been shattered to pieces; he wasn’t even in the running. He’d lost a love, but he still had his friend, but the part that stung was that he lost his first love to someone else. He had been too slow, a coward. Maybe it would have turned out differently if he hadn’t agreed to kiss her in the first place. Maybe he should have said something in the treehouse. Seeing them together would only add more salt to the wound and he didn’t think he could just get over that quickly, couldn’t bear to see them in school together, it was like having an arrow labelled above his head labelling him as a loser. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two at it then. Call me if you need anything.” 

Y/n stopped pushing him and walked close by his side, looping her arm around his and holding tight to not lose him amongst the crowd. Luke wished he could have enjoyed the affection, but it was different now. He was just a friend and how would her potential boyfriend feel about her clinging onto him? Would it be his fault? Oh God why was it so confusing.

One weekend. One date was all it took. Luke spent the whole weekend in his basement, shooting pucks and not caring if they hit the wall or the net, that wasn’t the point, all just to clear his head and focus on something else. He started to hope his dad would yell at him for being too rough, it would give him something else to be upset about. After the puck slammed into the wall, he stood up straight to catch his breath. Hockey was supposed to channel his energy so why did his body feel so heavy still? His eyes burned hot, glazed over and he wiped the streaming tears with his sleeve. He was used to being on his own now, both his older brothers in the NHL and now his best friend had someone else. The one time he needed brotherly advice, comfort, to hear their voices the most, they couldn’t be there, and a call wasn’t the same as sitting on the porch roof watching the sunset.

Meanwhile, y/n’s face held an amused facade while her date mansplained Fantasy Football at her, eyes subtly flickering to the clock on the wall periodically. The whole date hadn’t gone badly, he paid, bought them drinks, listened intently to every word she spoke but what more was there? They’d been skating in circles, and he’d been trying desperately to appeal to her, bragging about his football achievements and now Fantasy Football. He was nice, cute, yeah, but y/n couldn’t help but think of Luke every time a word left his mouth. This guy was not special, her stomach was silent, no butterflies like Luke gave her. His smile wasn’t contagious like Luke’s. Luke would’ve taken her somewhere new they could both try or somewhere they both loved, Luke’s voice was easy to listen to when he told hockey stories, and he’d already explained fantasy sports to her the same way he would have explained it to a guy. All she thought about was Luke, compared to every guy she met. Poor Luke. She should have told him she liked the kiss then maybe he wouldn’t have run blue in the hallway. She couldn’t turn the clock back, but what she could do is move forward with the realisation that she did like Luke Hughes, more than a friend. 

She’d told Luke about the disaster date, and he’d been surprised to hear she hadn’t enjoyed it since he’d watched the two shower each other with nothing but attention and affection for weeks but Luke had made up his mind. It was time for him to take the backseat, let go of their childhood. 

Once Monday came around, Luke had to try his best to push his own feelings aside, lay off the romance hints, less like her wannabe boyfriend and act more like a friend, she wasn’t interested in him now, she had other boys, and he had to at least pretend he wasn’t interested in her. They were besties, nothing more, nothing less. She said it herself. He’d lost his chance. Even if he tried to ask her out now, what if she rejected him? Laughed in his face? His feelings mattered too, and the last person he wanted hurting them was y/n. Y/n and Luke had made their agreement to be friends, and they hated themselves for letting the flowers of a bittersweet tragedy grow in their lungs violently unless they loved each other the same.

His logic may have been screwed, but it was the only way he would be able to stay in her life, yes girls and guys could be best friends but when you were in love with yours who liked someone else, that became horrendous to bear. Especially on the daily. How was he supposed to be just her friend if he had to be reminded of why he’d go to all ends of the Earth for her every day? He’d head straight to his friends between bells, pretending he’d not seen her face sink when he walked past. At lunch he sat with his friends most of the time, got involved with their shenanigans while she sat with her group, as if he didn’t notice the longing in her eyes. In classes, he’d join his friends a little more, not all the time but more than he used to. When the final bell rang, it was her he sat with on the bus, and it became the best part of the day listening to his voice talk, having a conversation like they used to. It wasn’t until he’d started putting a wedge between them that he realised how deep he’d fallen into her grip, and getting out would be the hardest, most confusing and painful part of it. 

Y/n wasn’t used to the whirlwind of emotions, the on-off behaviour but after months of Luke being unable to decide if he wanted to hang out with her or not, she’d gotten used to it. She didn’t expect to see him after the first bell anymore, didn’t expect him to find her in the halls (but he did give her a smile and that little upwards nod guys do when they passed each other) or at lunch anymore but when they met on the bus at the end of school, they fell back into each other like magnets. She didn’t know what she did wrong that made him build such a wall, but for the first few weeks there wasn’t a night she hadn’t cried about it, not a day where she��d see his face in the halls and her heart not gain a heavy weight. It had her emotions in one giant blender, he wanted nothing to do with her throughout the day but once they got home, he replied to texts almost instantly, hung out with her over the weekends, glared daggers into every guy who ever spoke to her and what the hell was going on? He had her engulfed in blankets of loneliness and then bouncing back into that warmth of giddy sensations. The one thing she did know for certain was that the further apart they floated, the more she realised how much she loved Luke Hughes.

* 

When Valentine's Day rolled around, y/n closed her locker, cheeks aching from smiling so much. It would be the day she asked Luke if he wanted to celebrate the day of love with her, go into town, on a date. As she turned to leave, Roller Rink guy unfortunately cornered y/n to her locker, a cocky grin on his face. Nausea riddled; her smile dropped. She thought telling him that they should just be friends would be enough, but he was persistent on wooing her. Luke chewed the inside of his cheek, a cold glare on Roller Rink, he couldn’t have cared less about his name, he didn’t want that taste on his tongue. How could this guy not get the memo? 

“So, you got plans tonight? Gonna give me a second chance?” Roller Rink smirked, stepping that inch too close for her liking. So close that y/n stepped back, bumping into someone else a lot taller, broader.

Luke almost left it, almost walked away but his blood boiled too hot, “We do, yeah. Sorry buddy, maybe next time.” 

“Well look who it is, haven’t seen you in a while, Hughes. How about you let the girl speak, yeah?” Roller Rink mocked, condescending. Y/n had never been more grateful for Luke to step in, never been more grateful for a friend like him. Relief fell through her, shoulders becoming weightless, and her muscles finally relaxed. 

“Actually, he’s right. I asked him to meet me here. Bye.” She stuttered, grabbing Luke’s hand and dragging him through the hall, leaving the other guy in their dust. She grinned the whole way to Luke’s, hoping he was just as ecstatic as she was. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, falling weak to her.

It was their childhood all over again, Luke and y/n curled up on the sofa, but this time she had her head tucked into his chest while his arm sat comfortably over the back of the sofa. Her ear pressed to his heart, listening to its calm rhythm as Harry Potter played on the TV. They weren’t supposed to be that close; he was supposed to be keeping his distance, pushing those ecstatic feelings aside, being her friend but the way she snuggled into him, fitting like a glove in his figure, had his head spinning. The last time, it would be the last time he’d let her do this. Perhaps he could make an exception for Valentine's Day.

Valentine’s Day had been the exception, and the final one. When she left his house, he’d taken a long shower, staring at the wall and rethinking his options. Y/n was playing with his feelings, tugging his heart strings and he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t cope with the bursts of paradise when their met eyes, only to remember that if she really liked him, she wouldn’t have agreed to a date, and wouldn't have avoided his eyes after kissing him. Maybe he was immature, unable to regulate such strong emotions, but he hated the back and forth, he just wanted someone he couldn’t have. She went on a date; she didn’t like it so she went back to him to seek the affection he couldn’t give her. Best friends weren’t supposed to be rebounds; he didn’t want to be a rebound. If he was to have her, he wanted her, exclusively but maybe right now just wasn’t the time. 

He stopped speaking to her in class, she tried her best to crack him, grab his attention and hopefully he’d return her energy like he used to but all he gave were dry, short replies. He couldn’t let himself fall for the sweet sound of her voice and she couldn’t let him ignore her interest. When they’d pass each other in the halls, she’d smile that warming, toothy grin at him, but he barely looked at her. She caught him after school, asking him if he was taking the bus but Luke waved her off, saying he was carpooling with his friends. Luke was always busy when she’d asked to hang out, which was okay, he was allowed to have friends. At least he still texted back, not instantly and the messages were shorter, but she took what she could get. Was part of growing up watching friendships float apart? She knew that the older you got, your friends either become closer or further from you, and Luke had been her childhood friend, but she never imagined he would be the one to drift. He was also a human though, he had his own life and his own friends, she would always be there, but his current friends wouldn’t so maybe he was just making the most of things. It made sense, next year they would be graduating, and they’d never see most people again. After all, she still had summer, and you’ll never have the summer you had at seventeen. 

*

Y/n pulled the photo album out of her wardrobe, brushing the dust off before sitting cross-legged on her bed. It had been a while since she’d taken a walk down memory lane, more prompted to revise over what life was like before high school started, when times were simpler and smiling came easy. 

Each photo still had pristine quality, her and the Hughes’ boys on paddleboards, from her and Luke sat together to Jack and Quinn drenched with a capsized board, their treehouse sleepover where they got yelled at in the next morning for being noisy, the time where they played roller hockey and she grazed her elbow, her decorating Jack’s hair with glitter hair clips and a whole lot of her and Luke thick and thieves. Her and Luke at the fireworks, hand in hand, playing Swingball, asleep on the sofa, making friendship bracelets. The bracelets they still wore, even if they weren’t as close anymore. Both blue with a little white braided in, a matching pair. 

In every photo of herself and Luke, there was not even one where Luke’s attention was on the camera, his eyes were always lit up and focused on her. Each page she turned, the memory played like tapes, vividly and she remembered all the times he’d tried his best to impress her. When she told him that she liked his hair longer, he grew it. When she liked a specific item of clothing, he wore it more. He defended her when Jack and his friends laughed at her, held her closer in the crowds at the carnival, everything about his life revolved around her. Kissing her cheek when they were eleven must have taken a lot of courage and she brushed it off as a friendly gesture. And what did she do? After all his efforts, the way he was utterly enamoured when they kissed in her treehouse, she went on to agree to a date with some loser she didn’t really like because she was too oblivious to realise that Luke, her best friend, had been heads over heels for her since they were kids, and she was too late in accepting that. Luke would have never kissed her if he didn’t like her and now at seventeen, he really didn’t.

How things fall into a complex circle, a game of cat and mouse. Chasing, running, chasing and running, back and forth, back and forth. Guilt tore through her body and she slammed the album closed, running her hands over her face. Perfect, she liked him back the moment he was hard to reach. That horrid guilt in her, that empty feeling when her stomach dropped to the bottom, heart twisting in her chest when she thought about the pain, she’d put him through. It wasn’t over, it couldn’t be over, there must’ve been some part of Luke that still held on to hope. What felt like a fire lit inside her stomach, she wasn’t going to lose him yet. The summer was approaching, and over summer she’d have him all to herself with endless possibilities to talk to him, win him over again, prove that he wasn’t just a friend. She would not give up on Luke.

*

When the summer hit, all of Luke’s efforts hit the fan. She lived right next door now. He woke up every day only to see y/n flaunting around in her bikinis, he didn’t think she could get more beautiful but now she was stunning and as much as Luke tried not to check her out, he did every time. Luke himself spent more time at the gym, grew into his features and he towered over his brothers, he wasn’t hard to miss, y/n resisted the urge to gawk at him with his summer glow. 

It felt like his childhood all over again, all of them hanging out on the boat, him and y/n sitting opposite each other, Quinn driving, Jack, Trevor, Cole towards the back hogging the wakeboard and now y/n’s friend, Kim (who had bulging heart eyes towards Cole) sitting next to her. Every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of y/n from the corner of his eye, posed pretty with her chest puffed out, large sunglasses perched on her nose with her lips wrapped around the straw of a canned cocktail as she listened to Kim talk. Butterflies fluttered into his stomach all over again, he hadn’t looked at her properly in so long, he felt eleven again looking at her like she was the embodiment of Aphrodite sent down to Earth for him. What he couldn’t see was y/n looking at him back, eyes raking his figure and the way his curls bounced in the breeze, shorts fit around his thighs, smirk sat pretty on his lips. It was like the sun shone a halo around his head and her heart couldn’t have beat more profoundly out her chest.

When the evening fell, Luke stood on his porch, empty bottles of beer in his hands as he watched her boat pull into her dock, Kim lugging a picnic bag over her shoulder and waving off as she left for home. He hadn’t meant to, but it was a moment of weakness, one of those moments where he wondered if he had just been a little stronger, able to cope better with being so close to her while living in pain, if he’d be the one out there in the boat, enjoying a cute picnic dinner on the waters.  

Y/n struggled as she failed to tie the boat to the dock, the knot slipping, and she groaned in frustration. After a long day in the sun, the last thing she wanted to deal with was her own lack of strength. With the rope clutched in her fingers, she groaned loudly, glancing around for at least someone to help her until her eyes fell upon Luke at his porch. She called his name, waving him over desperately, letting him discard the bottles in his hands before he waltzed his way down the porch and through his garden.

“Need help?” Luke’s voice called out to her as he strolled along the dock, shading his eyes from the setting sun as he approached her.

She stepped away, handing him the rope, watching the way his arms flexed as he pulled the knot tight against the cleat, “Thanks, that was being a pain in the ass.” 

“They always are, the worst is waking up and seeing the rope snapped, that’s a pain in the ass.” He chuckled, remembering the morning he found Quinn with his head in his hands with a snapped rope at his feet and boat floating four feet away from the dock. They stood in an uncomfortable silence, the lake’s critters singing their songs with the occasional car driving in the distance. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shaking his hair out of his eyes, “Sooo, it’s been a while, huh? How have, uh, you been?” 

“All right, you? Congrats on fourth overall pick, by the way, I knew you’d get there. You excited?” She smiled, rolling back on her heels and folding her arms under her chest.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay too. Sorry I didn’t reply to your text, I had so many I’m still getting through them, but thank you,” he chuckled, watching her shoulders raise as she gave a little huff in amusement, “and I guess, I’m happy that I’ll be with Jack but it’s gonna be tough. But I’ll worry about it later, I’m planning on college first, making some friends and that. Speaking of, Cameron, really?”

She forgot about him; he was that irrelevant she had actually forgotten she’d briefly dated her classmate, Cameron. She only did it in hope Luke would interrogate her, it made her a horrible person, yes, but Cameron was no saint by any means either. She hoped Luke would do what he normally did, get protective and ask her a million questions, like he did with Roller Rink, and he’d swoop in and woo her away instead, but when Luke only glared and scoffed, her plan for his attention had failed. 

Y/n’s eyebrows raised, and she blew out a defeated puff of air, shaking her head at Luke, “Don’t even go there, Lu. A wet rag would have a more interesting personality than he ever would. Thank God it’s over, finally. Surprised you didn’t interrogate me at the time.”

“Eh, I thought about it, but I didn’t wanna be that guy, y’know?” he shrugged, a static sensation crawling its way from the pits of his stomach where he’d shoved it, scuttling through his limbs and into his muscles. That euphoric feeling from the treehouse two years or so ago prying its way back into his memory the more they spoke. The feeling was exactly what he was running from, he couldn’t help liking her more than a friend but all the weight on his shoulders lifted and he felt free again, like being a professional hockey prodigy didn’t matter to her, she would like him anyway as just Luke. 

“You’d never annoy me like that.” They fell into a silence, Luke prodding the decking with the tip of his slides, y/n watching him occupy himself. She forgot how being with him felt. He felt exactly like they were standing, warm summer evenings on the docks with the breeze in their hair, in a smitten haze where nothing mattered. “Lu? Where’d you go? What happened to us?”

He froze and stood properly, eyes squinting from the sun’s glare as he looked up slowly. He hadn’t gone anywhere, is what he wanted to say but the wet glaze in her eyes suggested that y/n would’ve torn him to shreds if he kept avoiding her. He’d hurt her enough. His throat dried, a lump forming when he swallowed, “I…I got swept up in this whole draft business, family were really on my back about the whole thing, then I had Five Nations last year and Worlds next year, practice was intense and um, I was losing time with my friends…I guess. They’re likely moving out of state for college, and we’ll probably never see each other after high school.”

He wasn’t lying but what he really wanted to say refused to leave his throat, like the words were stuck in his chest.

She nodded, it was a valid answer, it made sense, she knew how his life revolved around hockey, when had it not? It just didn’t feel like he’d said everything he wanted to say, but he didn’t continue. He watched her purse her lips, the pinks from the sky fading into dark and the moon reflected over the lake, little lamps on the dock glowing yellow around them. If there were any moment he could kiss her, it would have been then. It had to be that moment when he felt his younger self spring to life within, entranced with her existence alone and the memory of the day they met, her hand reaching out to him specifically and never letting it go. Not Jack’s, not Quinn’s, always his.

“That’s fair enough,” she gave a gentle chuckle, “maybe a little warning next time, I thought I pissed you off.”

“Never, I’m sorry about that, I should’ve said,” he laughed with her until they settled, “well, I should get going before I ruin game night for the family, it was nice to chat again.”

“Yeah, it was. Thanks for tying the boat, see you ‘round.” With little nods and longing smiles, they both turned, heading in opposite directions towards the paths up their yards until the sudden burst of adrenaline rose in her chest. There wasn’t a lot to lose anymore, they were on good terms, he wasn’t pissed off with her and what better way to give him a fat hint, “Lu!”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her yelling, he hadn’t made it too far down the dock, her voice was crystal clear and his nickname in her voice just made his chest swell. 

“You’re looking good these days!” 

That uncontrollable urge to grin took over his muscles like he was a puppet, she’d finally noticed. His hair kept long the snug swim shorts, t-shirts and polos in styles she’d once said suited him. How could he not feel a buzz run through him, almost dizzying. As if on autopilot, fuelled by this sudden nostalgic rapture, he called back,

“And you’re still pretty!” 

No, she was beautiful, but he’d rather not yell when he knew his brothers were chewing table legs waiting for him. If he admitted it now, he’d never go back, he’d fold all over again and although she thought he looked good, spent their conversation glancing at his arms and lips, showing sprinkles of indications that perhaps he was still in the running after all, making his move after he’d sat in the backseat for so long pretending like he wasn’t interested just felt wrong. He had so much to explain before he even tried.

*

Another year, another carnival and y/n thought she’d be enjoying the games and food stalls with her best friend, Kim. She thought they’d be in photobooths, laughing over the stupid games that the odd person won and trying out the new churros stall but instead, the moment Cole offered to accompany her on a few rides, y/n knew she’d be on her own until the fireworks. She had no idea where Luke was, so tagging along with him was off the list as well and she was not going to hang around the parents and her brother and his friends, gross.

The woman behind the counter smiled, handing the cone of churros to y/n before turning to the family next to her. Kim may have been missing out, but she sure was not going to pass up the opportunity for fresh and warm sweet treats that only cost her a couple dollars. She stepped to the side, away from the counter, the aroma of sugary delights filling her senses as she took her first bite. She hadn’t tasted something so incredible since she discovered what pancakes were. 

A firm hand on her lower back wiped all sense of a blissful retreat from her body, her grip on the churros tightening and she froze, a cold presence looming over her with his hot breath plaguing her neck. Why? Why in all places where there are families with children? She wanted to run but her legs locked into place, that horrific fear chilling her spine and the default thought that it was over echoing in her mind. 

“You look a little lonely, I can keep you company.” The guy breathed deeply in her ear, with a suggestive tinge in the way he spoke. She didn’t dare look him in the eye, just peered through her peripheral vision enough to know he was at least in his twenties. 

“I’m not, I’m with my boyfriend, actually.” She replied, as confidently as she could possibly bear without bursting into tears. His thumb rubbed against the fabric of her jeans, her appetite sinking into nausea.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” He pinched a churro from her cone and now they’d been infected, now she didn’t want them anymore. The closer he stood to her, the filthier she felt like it was all her fault for not moving away. Y/n’s eyes remained fixed to the grass below, tears welling and her throat closing as she choked back a sob. She squeezed her eyes shut, helplessness overruling every ounce of strength she had the closer the guy pressed himself into her back.

“Yeah, but I do so fuck off.” Luke’s voice clipped, his hand sliding over her shoulders gently. Y/n’s eyes snapped open, immediately recognising the white Air Forces and the voice in her ears, legs finally gaining the ability to move again, and she let Luke’s hand guide her into him instead, dropping the churros into the bin nearby. She wrapped her arms around his middle, ear pressed to his chest and the tears ran hot, yet the way his arms secured around her shoulders brought a warm sense of belonging somewhere. 

“Woah, easy tiger. Was just making sure the little lady was safe in a place like this-” the guy raised his hands in front of his chest as if to surrender, an amused smirk smeared across his face as Luke’s stare darkened. His guilt taunted him, he should’ve been there and then she wouldn’t be shaking in his arms. Kim shouldn’t have ditched her, and he should have been a friend and stuck by her side. The minute he saw the guy approach her, his vision burned red and he was shoving his way through the crowds, whatever people were shouting at him couldn’t have mattered less. 

“-I’m calling security.” Luke exasperated, and he would’ve called security if the woman with her child at the stall nearby hadn’t already done so, the creep swearing and making a break for it. Y/n pulled her face away from his chest with red eyes, arms loosely wound around his waist still as she peered up at him. Luke’s eyes softened and on instinct his palms cupped her cheeks, wiping the remaining tears away with his thumbs. “I got you, s’just you and me.”

Her eyes sparkled under the fairy lights, stared at him like he was an angel sent from the skies to watch over her and he knew it. He saw it just as she saw his ears tint pink again. They hadn’t done that in months. He hadn’t felt that hot in months and the outside temperature was breezy. 

Y/n hoped he kiss her. Right there, where they were alone. Their eyes never leaving each other’s and his hands jolting electrifying sparks over her skin. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be touched my him, how light she felt. The less and less they’d touched, spoken, been in each other’s proximity the more intense the memory and feeling crashed over her in waves of yearning. The voice in her head begging him, Luke! Please stop running! I love you! Love me like you once did! 

His hands dropped and slipped into his short’s pockets, his gaze eventually leaving hers and jumping to the flashing lights of the stalls surrounding them, “You all right?” 

“I am now, thanks.” 

“I’m sorry,” he watched her open her mouth to speak, but he couldn’t keep it in his chest, she was there, and his emotions were running too fast to think about what he was doing.  The words spilled out, “I’m sorry for not being there. Now and over the past year. Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry. I wanted to tell you at the docks but, I dunno, I fucked it and then it was too late and-”

Her hands balled around his t-shirt, pulling him closer, “Lu, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

“No, no you might not,” he ran his hands through his hair harshly, ���it wasn’t just because of hockey and my friends. I was jealous and insecure and that feels so good to finally admit. You went on a date with what’s-his-face, and I don’t know, I guess I thought I was being replaced and I was stupid about it, then it got too deep and fuck!” And I was so in love with you and then I lost my chance.

Y/n didn’t let go of him. His hands slipped back into his pockets, and he waited, eyes searching hers with sympathy written in them, the guilt on his face with shaky breaths. That was it? He was just insecure and was unable to process it? She heard him out, she would have probably thought the same and at that age, it wasn’t easy to just speak up about it, especially when you think you have no chance at all. She wasn’t mad, disappointed slightly, angrier at herself that he felt like he couldn’t tell her. 

“I forgive you. I probably would have done the same thing, honestly. Yeah, you were stupid, that was really stupid, and it really hurt. I’m also sorry for making you feel like you were being replaced. But if it brings any reassurance, no one would ever be able to replace you.” She pulled him into a hug, arms wrapping around his middle again and his around her shoulders, their height difference making them fit perfectly.

They pulled away after a few seconds, Luke clearing his throat as they stepped back awkwardly, “We should, um, probably head to the spot now.” 

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, totally. Um, thanks for stepping in again…I really appreciate it.” She blinked twice and fixed her hair, snapping out of her daze, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. Luke nodded before they re-entered the crowds, her arm looping around his as he led them through, glancing at her every now and then until they’d slipped out the other side, catching sight of Jack and his friends heading in the same direction as them.

Their families chose the specific spot when they were kids, it was out the way of the popular viewing places and to reach it required tackling a tedious staircase to the top of the hill, but it was the best spot that looked over the carnival below. Like most years, the two families were divided into their own little huddles, but Luke and y/n stood together like they were eleven again. Her grip around his arm tightened a little, head leaning against his arm and unleashing a giddy tingle into Luke’s chest. Y/n’s heart raced like she’d never been alone with him before, like it was the first time she’d been alone with him and God, just thinking about how Luke had kissed her for the first time in that exact spot just made her stomach warm. 

He slipped his hand out of his pocket slowly, keeping his eyes on the sky as the firework display’s music faded in. Like feathers, her fingers ran down his forearm, tracing over his skin and veins that ran hot with a resurfacing captivation like a drug he just couldn’t quit. Without saying a word or giving each other any kind of endearing look, her palm met his and fingers interlaced, rebuilding the bridge between the two lost souls as the pinks and reds of whirlwinds and willows reflected over gleaming eyes.

*

The Hughes family threw parties all the time, had been since they moved in next to the L/n’s all those years ago. Jim and Ellen always had some sort of party for the boys and as they grew older, Jack more or less became the main host, especially with the arrival of Trevor and Cole. That night it was the two families along with the Tkachuks, who moved to the lake a few years prior, who held some sort of belated celebration for Luke’s drafting success. According to Ellen, they would have done it nearer the time, but Quinn insisted the Tkachuks should join since they had played such a big role in the Hughes’ lives. 

Afternoon barbeques drifted into evening drinks and s’mores around the bonfire, Jack and Cole tossing marshmallows into each other’s mouths, Matthew telling Trevor (who spilled molten marshmallow on his knee and was trying to wipe it off with great struggle) a detailed story from one of his NHL games, Brady and Quinn debating something, it wasn’t entirely clear anymore what the topic was but they seemed to be in disagreement either way and Luke’s eyes flickered around the fire, in search of his person. Her brother was still there, kicking a ball around on the grass with a couple of his friends he’d been allowed to invite. Her parents were inside talking to the other parents. 

He stood up, unnoticed by the others, and wandered to the side gate, taking a quick look back before slipping out quietly and ambling next door to the l/n’s side gate, silently turning the hatch and letting himself into their garden. As he suspected, a faint, amber glowed from the window of the treehouse and those fairy lights didn’t turn on by themselves. With a sigh of relief, Luke carefully made his way across the garden, his footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs up to the platform and he opened the door a crack before letting himself into the structure.

The treehouse felt tiny compared to when they were kids. He was too tall for it now, having to duck under the door and crane his neck slightly, shutting it behind him. Y/n sat against the wall, staring out the window with her legs stretched out in front of her. She’d watched him come up the stairs, and it brought the slightest bit of relief that someone had noticed her absence. Luke sat next to her, shoulder to shoulder with his back against the wall like hers, the little lights that hung around the top of the walls giving their skin a dim glow. 

“What’cha doin’ up here, pretty?” he asked softly.

 She turned her head to face the wall opposite, head bumping the wood, “Got cold and needed to think. What about you? Don’t you wanna be down there, gettin’ advice from the big dogs?” 

“Would rather be here with you.” He chuckled lightly, Deja vu of the conversation. The last time they sat in the treehouse together, before things spiralled. She shivered, running her hands over her arms to rid the goosebumps. Luke shimmied his sweatshirt over his head, the navy blue ‘USA Hockey’ one he always thought would look better on her, “Here, put this on.” 

“You sure?” he nodded, and she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, the size engulfing her but she was too warm to care, “Thanks, but really, how did you know I was here?”

“Had a feeling. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

She stayed quiet for a little moment before speaking, “M’just a little worried about college. My friends applied so far out of state with all these cool stories from relationships and drama and shit and I feel a little…boring. What if people at UMich think I’m boring? What if I’m gonna be alone? I’m not boring, am I?” 

“If it brings you any comfort, I’m worried too. You know my friends are leaving the state too, and I also haven’t exactly been the most exciting socially either, just those odd parties, you remember those surely,” he muttered, his voice raspy as she nodded, “you’re not boring, by the way, never losing a game of beer pong is a talent people will kill for in college, and you won’t be alone. You’re the most likeable person I’ve ever met, and I admire how you find talking to people so easy. Remember when we started high school? You jumped straight into the jungle and made friends within the first day, took me a week to properly make mine, I was terrified. Besides, I’ll be there so you can always come find me.”

 Y/n didn’t reply, but she soaked in his voice and how easy the words left his mouth. He always knew just what to say, and that was yet another reason why she loved him. She sighed, leaning her head against his bicep, gently nuzzling her cheek into him as if to comfort herself. If only he’d wrapped her arm around her, but resting his head against hers was enough, just like they had when they were kids watching Harry Potter. Back when Luke pined over her and she didn’t think too much of it, not knowing what it was, what it meant. He may have been the only guy that ever loved her like that. Roller Rink was far more interested in the idea of having a girlfriend and Cameron…Cameron couldn’t have cared less about who she was as long as she had female anatomy. 

“Do you think I’m lovable? Like, not because of the way I look.” She babbled out of the blue, Luke’s eyebrows knitting with confusion at her sudden question, but he had asked what was on her mind.

“I think you’re the most lovable person there is. You’re funny, you’re witty, you have this admirable determination and ability to socially chameleon. Oh God, and you’re so sweet, always know how to make someone feel at peace. What’s-his-face and fucking Cameron have no idea what they’re missing.” He rambled, a smile spreading across his face as the lights in the room sparkled in his eyes. She looked at him with awe, his voice like a song that would now become her favourite as he talked with adoration, valuing her as a human being with her flaws and perfections that crumbled the walls he’d spent so long building.

“Lu…” She wanted to say something back, kiss his face all over, take him by the cheeks and kiss his lips so hard they wouldn’t be able to breathe. That comfortable silence between them where eyes met and debated leaning in, submitting to his childhood crush and her adolescent realisation.

Her phone buzzed, she hesitantly pulled her eyes from his and after reading the notification she slammed the device back onto the floor, groaning and rolling her eyes. She grabbed her phone back, swiping and blocking Cameron’s Instagram. Blocking was crazy, but it was the only way he’d stop begging her for ‘another chance’. 

“Going by that reaction, I’m taking that was Cameron?” Luke raised his eyebrow, watching her place her phone to the side and lean back into the wall. 

“Can I tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone, not even your brothers…okay?” She breathed out, staring at both their feet. 

Luke hesitated, shivers running up his spine, “Yeah, I didn’t tell anyone about the twenty-fifteen fireworks, did I?”

“Ugh, he was awful, I’m actually glad it didn’t last long. Such an asshole, I just couldn’t do anything right for him. Bad girlfriend, bad person, bad kisser, prude. And talk about peer pressure, I didn’t wanna have sex with him, right? Because if I’m gonna lose my virginity it’s definitely not gonna be with him, and then he got all pissy and said that if I didn’t, he’d tell people I was a bad fuck, couldn’t make him cum or whatever. Anyway, you probably heard the rumours.” Y/n took a deep breath, she wasn’t sure why she was telling Luke that, but why would he tell anyone? It wasn’t like he had any more experience than her.

“What happened next?” he asked, deep down his blood boiled, the nonchalant facade he’d been building up began to crumble the more they found themselves alone, the more childhood memories that flooded back to him and reminded him of how much of a coward he was, that he should’ve just shoot his shot instead of running away.

“Then I caught him cheating, broke up with him and he threw a tantrum about it, started talking shit about you, saying how I was probably cheating on him first anyway, so it all cancels out. Told his friends that he caught me sucking your dick and how distraught he was over it. Next day he happily made out with his new girl in the hall, so I obviously did not matter at all and was just a plaything.” She chuckled sadly, leaning her head onto Luke’s bicep. He wanted to scream, hold her tight and tell her how wrong she was about herself, that she wasn’t a plaything, that he was a prick. But he couldn’t, instead his mind travelled to the worst parts of him, he would’ve beaten the hell out of Cameron given the chance. His deepest fantasies crept back to him like a virus all over again. 

“You don’t deserve to be treated like that,” his voice lowered, gaze peering down to her with a fiery glaze in his eyes and she looked back at him, curious. “I’d never treat you like that, you’d mean everything to me. Every word, every kiss, everything.”

She released a shaky breath, adrenaline sparking in her chest, “I can’t stop thinking about how easy it was to move on for him, I just want to forget the humiliation, but I don’t know how to do that.” 

His gaze burned through her, a rush of desire surging, and she’d never seen his face soften like that before, like he was thinking carefully. Luke’s hand reached for hers, sliding over her thigh and lacing their fingers together, like they always seem to do. From the pits of his brain, eleven-year-old Luke squeaked out to him and his heart screamed to grasp the opportunity: stop being stubborn, you like her, you like her, you like her, you still like her.

“We could make out, we’ve already kissed here, and if he can do it, why can’t you? Think of it as liberation.” She would have thought he was joking if it weren’t for the way his voice dropped and calm tone. He was dead serious, not a drop of amusement in his voice but he was right, they had already kissed once so what was the harm in doing it again? She peered up at him, eyes scanning his features, flickering between his lips and waiting gaze.

She’d be a fool to pass up Luke Hughes’ attention after growing apart from him. When he suggested making out, why would she pass it up, the guy still gave her butterflies even if she was just holding onto a painful delusion written by the past. It wouldn’t do any harm, it would take her mind off her turmoil, the haunting thoughts that a boy used her, and humiliated her. It wouldn’t do any harm; it was just a kiss. Only a kiss that would stick with her, their mutual magnetic pull over the summer striking up the same thought between them. Maybe they did like each other the same. 

Letting go of his hand, she hoisted her leg over his and straddled his lap, hand settling on his chest. A newfound adrenaline lit up inside her like wildfire, his large hands cupping her jaw with nerves wrecking his body, thumb rubbing her cheek. He wet his lips, his one hand sliding to her nape, and he pulled her in slowly.

“Yeah, liberation.” She whispered, closing the gap between them, lips meeting timidly before she melted into his body, Luke’s tongue ran across her bottom lip, a moan drawing from the back of her throat as she let him in, licking into his mouth with a sweet desire. 

Neither had an expert understanding of how to make out, but the more they fell into a rhythm of disconnecting for a breath, just to connect again for another taste, the more electric the tension between them became. She slid her hand from his chest to his curls, fingers tangling in the loose ringlets and tugging tenderly, too caught up in the pleasure to think coherently. Luke moaned hungrily, his hand gliding from her nape down the curve of her spine and his hand settling on her hip, fingers gripping her hipbone the moment she rolled into his crotch. The buzz from the gathering next door was silenced in their ears, the only noises in their proximity being the sound of their lips eating each other and tongues lapping in a hot and heavy haze, whines slipping in as a warm temptation flushed through them. He bucked his hips up, as if on an instinct, following his heart rather than his head for once. 

Even if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, they pulled back panting, eyes locked in a risky delirium. He ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, gulping when she wrapped her lips around the fingertip, sucking softly and swirling her tongue while refusing to drop the intense eye contact. Luke’s heart thundered, hard. So strongly he could feel it in his ears and undoubtedly his cheeks were pink. They were in each other’s grasps, overridden with a lewd rhapsody that had the bottom of their stomachs twisting and eyes half-lidded with lust. If Luke could feel how her underwear stuck to her in that moment, she would have never been able to recover from it. Kissing him so deeply with every ounce of desire that riddled her bones sent her into a dizzy haze, pussy throbbing for more every time he adjusted his hips up to meet hers. 

“What else can that mouth do?” he muttered, watching a new side of the girl he grew up with. His head was in a whole new place, a foggy mess all because she squirmed on his lap, felt euphoric on his tongue and kissed him like she meant it, like his hands over her body was all it took to light the spark that burned between them.

She released his thumb with a coy smile, a string of saliva between her bottom lip and his thumb. She could feel how tight his shorts had become and gave her hips another roll over his crotch, thriving in how his breath hitched, “Wanna find out?”

“Please.” He said with a shaky breath, hands finding their way to her thighs, running his palms along the flesh. 

Y/n bit her bottom lip, readjusting her seating by spreading his legs and setting herself on her knees between them. Although not comfortable, that was the least of her concerns. She flipped the hem of his t-shirt up and unbuckled his belt, fumbling with the button of his shorts and tucking her fingers into his boxer’s waistband. He lifted his hips, allowing her to shimmy his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring free. He leant his head against the wall, hands covering his face when she rubbed languid strokes over his cock, thriving in his muffled whines when her thumb circled the pre-cum around his tip. 

“Mm, so big, Lu.” She hummed, spitting into her palm and giving him hard strokes from the base, smiling at how his Adam’s Apple bobbed. God, he wished he hated it, wished he didn’t feel ecstatic when she called him his nickname, the name only she called him. He wished he hated how her hand looked tiny against his cock, how good he felt.

“Shit,” he whined, “need your mouth already, please, y/n, please.”

“Only if you stop hiding, I wanna see your face.” She gave his tip relentless kitten licks, a vicious thrill shuddering down her limbs to her core. He did as he was told, hands trying to grip the wood beneath them and she grinned, taking him into her mouth and just to drive him insane, moaning and his taste blessing her taste buds. 

“Oh God,” he breathed raggedly, a twinge of a groan mixed in as her tongue lay flat on the underside of his cock, swallowing him as if she’d done it hundreds of times before like she’d thought about it intensely. Her name left his mouth in a mantra, followed by swearing and whimpers he never imagined himself making. 

She peered up through her lashes, the moan she let out reverberating around his cock with such a tainted pleasure that he gasped, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of her bobbing her head over him, watching him lose himself with a burning face and submissive mewls emitting from his lips. Writhing under his childhood best friend’s mouth, in her treehouse of all places while she sucked him off with shameless lust wasn’t something he expected. She had him a moaning mess and for a moment he thought that only she could be capable of doing so. There wasn’t a chance any other girl could make him feel that much emotion during such a filthy act, his childhood crush flooding back to him all over again, all that excitement, nerves, butterflies in his stomach and now the adolescent storm of love, lust, desire, dedication and everything that got mixed up in between.

He tensed, y/n’s free hand skirting up his shirt and splaying over his abs, feeling all the dips in muscles as his core tightened the deeper she took him, hissing when his cock hit the back of her throat. How on Earth she managed it, he wouldn’t know, and he didn’t care because it felt exhilarating, sweat forming on his forehead. He bucked his hips up, an erotic, deep moan drawing out from her. 

“Fuck, so close, m’gonna cum,” he breathed, “gonna cum, y/n, please.” 

His thighs shuddered, her hands lying flat on them as Luke exhaled deeply, the knot in his core unravelling as he thrust into her mouth, his hot cum coating her tongue and throat and his jaw slacked, panting when she swallowed every drop of him, as much as she could before pulling her lips off him. His eyes pricked tears from overstimulation, fluttering shut as his chest rose and fell.

“Where-where’d you learn that?” he whispered, tucking himself back into his underwear and re-dressing himself. It was as if his high wore off, the world tuned back in, and he could hear the buzz of his family’s gathering next door again. 

She wiped the dribble of cum from her lip with her finger, taking it into her mouth and licking it clean, “I read a lot, followed my instincts.” 

“Fuck, that felt incredible. You’re incredible, never gonna forget that. Fuck, you’re still an amazing kisser, oh my fucking God.” He couldn’t help but smile, it felt like old times. The easy air where no judgement lurked, secrets could be spilt and they’d stay between the two of them, he’d sit there, admiring and folding over how pretty she was while she’d treat him like a prince. Perhaps they’d just made another bad choice, how could he not ignore his feelings now, it was so hard to resist temptation and push back the butterflies. After all those months running away from himself, from her and all that achieved was him running back around straight into her grip again. He was done with running; he was going to give himself one last chance.

With a giggle, she crawled out from between his legs and re-took her seat next to him, “Now that was memorable. Remind me to kiss you more. Do you make noises like that for every girl? They were so fucking hot.” 

“Nah, only you. Been only you. Kissed only you.” Luke let a chuckle pass his lips, closing his eyes and grinning to himself. She exhaled, peeking up at him in his peaceful state. Only her, only her. Even after all that time, he’d never looked at another girl. She was the only girl he’d ever kissed, only ever done anything with and even after he’d kept her far from his reach, it was because he only ever wanted her. Now they had each other, side-by-side, in her treehouse where she’d given her first ever blowjob and she didn’t regret one second of it, and never would despite however life turned out. 

“You won’t tell anyone about this…will you?” her voice was quiet, and she pulled her knees to her chest. “Not because I’m ashamed but like, well, you know, kinda embarrassing people knowing our business…”

Luke copied her, resting his arms over his knees, “I’m not gonna say anything if you don’t want me to, y/n. You know I wouldn’t do that, but I get what you mean. I really don’t want my brothers talking about it, and you know Jack can’t even keep his own secrets.”

“Are we cool now? No more of- whatever we’ve been doing?” she held out her fist.

“We’re cool. Just you ‘n me again.” He bumped her fist with his, “We’re thinking of taking the boat out again tomorrow, you should come.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers, “Maybe I will, maybe I’ll wear my best bikini.” 

“Maybe you should, maybe I’ll wear the blue shorts.” He nudged back, both knowing exactly which items of swimwear they were referencing. The hibiscus pattern bikini that couldn’t have suited her any more perfectly and the swim shorts that hugged his thighs too nicely, that he only wore after he’d caught her staring.

They smiled brightly, lights reflecting in their eyes as they leaned into each other’s sides. The sweet sensation of closure, burying a hatchet in the place it all started. It wasn’t a conventional way to make up, but feelings resolved that night, messages conveyed and for those few hours they spent up there, they were finally on the same page.

*

Reconnecting with someone who was once your entire world changes your perception of life itself. The sun shone brighter, the air warmer and serotonin at an all-time high. What they hadn’t realised was that reconnecting after straying away came with a thick tension between them, not like a negative, doom and gloom but something else. Something exciting.

On boat days, every time their eyes would meet, stomachs would twist and feel a heat pool in their cores. Every little move felt suggestive, every time he adjusted the way he sat so his shorts would rise up his thighs slightly, every time she adjusted her bikini, when he’d place his hand on her hips as he’d walk past, sitting on his lap and playing with his curls to make more space for the others on the seats.

At the golf course, with his lean arms wrapped around her, hands on top of hers and guiding her positioning and swing of the club, his breathing on her neck making her body melt into his and Luke fighting off the urge to drop the club entirely and pull her into his embrace, to pepper her neck with butterfly kisses until he found her sweet spot.

Nights around the firepit, cuddled on his lap in the lawn chair wearing his hoodie, his hand stroking her thigh and mumbling conversations between each other, lips dangerously close with hot breaths on each other's necks.

Naps where they lay on each other's chests, arms wound around bodies and legs tangled under sheets and blankets.

The difference between their reconnecting and the average person’s reconnecting was that actions spoke louder than words, but neither were speaking up. Luke had done his best, been explicit in the treehouse, held her close whenever they were together. Y/n was in a bumbling state, accepting every one of Luke’s attempts, relishing in the feeling of being loved and appreciated, hoping her time and attention would be enough for him.

The difference between Luke and y/n couldn’t have been more obvious to a bystander. Luke, a shameless loverboy enduring the relentless teasing from his brothers about how down bad he was and y/n, endeared but tortured Luke with her inability to verbalise her feelings, an overthinker. Luke spent so many years being direct about himself and y/n spent so many years stuck in her head and generating the worst possible situations. All he wanted was confirmation, something that said ‘You’re my only too, my everything. Only you’, something from her vocal cords.

Y/n wiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm, knees sore from kneeling on the grass for so long and hands soaking from the gardening gloves. Her mum had gone crazy with her flowers again, and insisted she needed the family to help her plant the new bulbs much to her father and brother’s dismay. The worst part was the chatter from the Hughes’, taunting her with how much fun they were having and how she was doing manual labour in the heat. A whole morning of listening to laughter, Jack and Trevor’s voices above anyone else's but all she thought about was Luke and his smile, his real laugh that came from his chest, the way he laughed with his body. All while she dug holes just to refill them again.

Somewhere around noon, she had thrown the gloves off and stood up, exhaling deeply and next door still had fun without her. God, if her fear of missing out was that bad then college would be excruciating. Having enough and falling submissive to her FOMO, she climbed her treehouse stairs, settling on the step that was high enough to see over the garden fence. 

You don’t deserve to be treated like that, I’d never treat you like that, you’d mean everything to me. Every word, every kiss, everything.

For a guy who’d been all over her, confessed that he felt something for her and told her that everything between them meant something to him, she sure became suspicious of it. Her stomach sank, tongue poking the inside of her cheek at him looking perfectly entertained pressed between two girls on the outdoor sofa, one of them suspiciously close to his face. She could only see him from behind, but she knew any girl who entered the Hughes residence was drop-dead gorgeous and if there was one thing she had learnt was that boys suck. He didn’t flinch out the way, didn’t move seats, didn’t push them off, he just let them. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t the person she wanted to be, but the festering irritation in her stomach wasn’t ignorable. Yet she trusted him, and before she would deep it, she wanted to think first, at least ask him about it before her jealousy got the best of her. She turned on her heel, thumped down the stairs and continued her gardening, which was now a lot more fun than next door.

Luke’s face burned red, only Jack would do him dirty in front of his cousins like that. His business was apparently the family’s business. The whole morning he’d been interrogated by his cousins about y/n, how she was, what she was up to, was she cute, did she make him happy, what she looked like. He pulled his phone out, opening his camera roll and pulling up a photo of her, his cousins leaning into him for a better look of the screen in the sun. 

“Oh my god, she’s so pretty, Luke!” Beth mused.

“How have you not asked her out?” Stephanie asked in a hushed voice, earning giggles from Jack and Quinn.

“I have been trying since I was eleven, okay? She’s just…not easy to read sometimes. I mean, I think we’re on the same page now, so I was gonna ask her next time I see her, ask her on a date to our favourite arcade.” He grinned at the thought, he’d planned it when he was fifteen and had been counting down the days to finally ask her himself.

He lay in bed that same night, seconds away from rolling over and turning his lamp off until his phone flashed, an influx of y/n’s texts coming through like wildfire. Running his hand over his dreary face, he picked his phone back up, reading each message one by one with unease. He squinted his eyes as if it would clear his confusion, her sudden outburst of accusations making him replay the events of the day.

Y/n/n  Who were those girls??? Why were they literally on you Luluuuu how many girls are you gettiiinnng Lulu  Huh? What are you talking about Oh they were my cousins. You met them years ago. I was showing them pics of you They were not on me thats gross they were looking at my phone so untwist your panties

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, or it felt like it. He was showing pictures of her? To his family?

Y/n/n  ?? Beth and Steph?? That was NOT them they were blonde as fuck My panties are fine thank you Lulu  LMAO yeah it was Didn’t know you were spying on me you lil peepin tom Yeah sure sounds like it. It’s okay to be ✨jealous✨ but you’re still no.1  Y/n/n  Ok I believe you WAS NOT SPYING WAS STUCK DOING GARDENING AND WAS CURIOUS Not jealous loser

Luke blew a puff of air through his nose, liking the message and placing the phone on his nightstand before rolling over. Usually, he was the one biting back his tongue, but seeing her jealous for once just made his heart swell a little more, it was cute, she cared. 

Y/n lay face down in her bed, face stuffed into her pillow and arms by her side. At least the irritation left but now she just felt like an idiot. But not a big idiot since she at least asked Luke what was going on, but still an idiot for even assuming he’d go and do something like that to her. She just hoped Luke didn’t think she was stupid.

*

Y/n hung her head in defeat, she tied the knot exactly how Luke had and yet she still couldn’t win. Another evening out on the lake with Kim, another evening where she wished she didn’t have to tie the boat to the dock. 

Hands nudged hers out the way and once again Luke had come to her rescue, crouched next to her and tying the rope to the cleat, like he had at the beginning of summer. They stood up straight, smiley, waiting for someone to say something with the crickets chirping and Luke’s brothers’ voices in the background.

“Thanks…again. I should get it someday.” She scratched her neck.

His mouth faltered, opening and closing to speak but he couldn’t choke the words out. He wanted to ask her, scream from the rooftops but something in his mind stopped him. What if she said no? How awkward that would be, they’d have to spend the last weeks of summer pretending as if nothing was going on, even if it was more than obvious that feelings were mutual. But what if she rejected him again? His hands slipped into his pockets, and he rocked on his heels.

“So, uh, since we're cool, um, was wondering for a while now if, um, and you don't have to but, uh, if you wanted to,” he started, sweat forming on his temple as his body ran hot. He’d watched Jack ask girls out, he made it look way too easy than it was, why couldn’t he just spit it out, he wanted it, that moment was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, she was right there. Chest tight, stomach doing flips, the adrenaline surging through him making his cheeks flush pink.

Her heart throbbed, cheeks ached but in a nice way, in a joyful way. This time, she would not miss her chance, it would be her and him until the end and she hoped, she begged the stars that he was going to ask her on a date. The whole summer with him, kindling spirits and rebuilding what had crumbled, two flames burning together and feeling as if she were the only girl in the world to him.

What was the worst that could happen? Rejection. Fear. Luke’s knees felt like jelly, his hands trembling and his mind coming to a blank. He couldn’t breathe, his heart wouldn’t pace itself and the words tumbled from his mouth in a panic, “um, well, Jack, Quinn and I were gonna check out this beach tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

He wasn’t lying, they were, but it wasn’t what he wanted to say. Y/n kept her smile even though it felt as if all her organs had been sucked from inside her to leave her a void. All that hope just for it to dissipate into thin air. All the little moments they shared, holding hands, exchanging secrets and forgiving, forgetting and going nowhere. It wasn’t until then it occurred to her that some people just weren’t meant to be more than friends. Just weren’t meant to take that leap into romance. Some people just were not ready. 

“Yeah, sure. Text me the details.” 

The closer they were just felt like they’d drifted further apart. They’d come so close until one of them just couldn’t do it, pushed the other away and not out of dislike either, because it was hard to not love each other but when you’d been friends for so long, everything - friends, family - felt at jeopardy. Right person, wrong time? It didn’t matter. Y/n and Luke would spend the rest of their summer as close friends. Nobody could hate Luke more than he hated himself, that bubbling in his stomach, boiling blood at only the boy who would stare back at him in the mirror. Nobody cried more than y/n, that pang in her heart every time they’d hang out, bottomless hollowness in her stomach when she soaked her pillows in the comfort of her bedroom. So close yet so far, like the stars that sparkled in their eyes when they looked at each other like they’d hung them out for each other. Once again, they’d signed that contract to be friends and if they were just that little bit braver, then maybe they’d stop letting the flowers of a bittersweet tragedy grow in their lungs, choke and suffocate them until one couldn’t do it anymore and concluded their decision. It was time to move on, stop waiting and set themselves free from the one who couldn’t decide.

Starting at the University of Michigan was like a breath of fresh air. New people, new environment, new life. Although she missed waking up on a lake, she and her roommate, beautiful and blonde, Bella (if she was going to make friends she may as well start with her roommate, right?), clicked well and decorated their dorm cosy with little lights hanging along the walls and bed frames, a rug to give the place personality and photos on the walls of family, friends and interests. Gave the cold place a bit of warm character. They giggled as they listened to the room across the hall already break out into an argument who-slept-where, they sympathised for the girl who struggled to say goodbye to her family and watched the two boys move in down the hall, y/n’s jaw dropping upon recognising the familiar head of curls. 

Luke and Dylan were long-time friends, they’d met back in the USA Hockey Development Camp when they were around fifteen and felt the pressure of new beginnings lift off their shoulders when they’d found out they were roommates. It was the best thing ever for them, setting up their room as their den, a blue rug, two plush folding chairs with the essentials: speaker, mini fridge, fan and a TV perched on top of one of the desk’s shelves. They’d spent most of their time rearranging their room to create maximum space, bickering like a married couple about the little details like no shoes on the rug and which way the desks should face. He and y/n hadn’t texted until later that night, Luke thrilled over her being just down the hall but y/n indifferent to it. Once upon a time, she would have been bouncing off the walls but now, it didn’t matter that much at all. 

In the first few weeks of university, you start making friends, join clubs and attend everything you can and go out when you want to with no one telling you when to be home. Y/n met a group of girls when she and Bella attended a social, Luke made friends through hockey. Both ended up back together when the two groups mixed by coincidence one night at some party they’d found and it was Dylan who brought it up. 

Y/n and her friends had been standing to the side in the living room of the dimly lit house, red solo cups held to chests and shuffling further away from the speaker at the other end of the room. Dylan weaved through the crowd, Luke, the three other guys, Mark, Ethan and Mackie not far behind him. She had been tipsy and grabbed Luke’s arm, Dylan immediately stopping to group with the girls. 

“Hey, Lu! Haven’t seen you in a while.” She yelled over the music, Luke standing close to her while Ethan, Mackie and Mark joined the little bundle. 

“Hey, y/n/n! Good to see you here.” He replied, dipping down closer to her ear.

Dylan’s eyes widened with his grin, pointing his drink between the two, “Oh shit! You know each other?”

“Yeah, we grew up together.” She smiled. Something inside Luke almost died that night. Something inside Luke also lit ablaze. 

“You’re y/n?! Hughesy talks about you all the time!” Dylan nudged Luke and Luke rolled his eyes, he would always have someone in his life who’d share his secrets, obviously. 

Y/n hadn’t added to the conversation after that and the group fell into a casual chatter, getting to know each other, that sort of thing. Luke felt the world bite him in the ass, that wedge he’d shoved between them now forced back and he felt like he was at square one all over again. 

That same night, on their way back to the dorms, Luke had made the clearest statement yet without opening his mouth. Ethan had been talking with her most of the party and since Luke knew her best, wanted advice. But when Ethan asked him about her number and favourite flowers, the youngest Hughes’ eyes could not have shot a dirtier look. Of course, the boys laughed, partially due to the alcohol and partially due to how real Luke seemed. Ethan flinched back, half-laughing out of nerves more than anything but that was the moment the boys realised something was going on. And they would not let Luke live it down.

Luke couldn’t bear his reflection sometimes. He had to face a coward and under the surgical white light of his and Dylan’s bathroom, where every feature and crevice of everything he hated just stuck out to laugh at him. Not physically, but all the memories of days he'd spent hyping himself up, ready to ask her out flashed in front of his eyes and he couldn’t stop the images of seeing his younger self utterly disappointed in him. He gripped the sink tight, knuckles turning white as he hung his head in shame, his eyes burning hot as they glassed over, a knot in his chest between angry and distraught igniting his tear ducts. He and y/n were part of two different groups with two different schedules, hockey was demanding, she would be with her crowd and when he thought he could finally have her without prying eyes, she was slipping further from his reach. But he wouldn’t lose her a second time. He wasn’t ready to surrender almost eight years of pining, he’d try just one last time.

*

It was exciting, it was new, it was refreshing. Weeks of classes, weeks of making new friends and weeks of finally gaining and learning independence. Things were going well for once and she even had her first date as a college student. Tony was a guy she met at a party, he didn’t resemble Luke at all and had approached her with smooth talking but lacked the character Luke held. She wasn’t sure about that, a cardboard personality but that was why she had agreed to go on a date with him, to learn. 

She’d knocked on Luke’s dorm on her way through, pushing him into his room abruptly and fixing her hair, Bella was out, and she was in dire need of a second opinion, and despite how the universe played out, Luke was still her most trusted and oldest friend. His eyes widened slightly, once again she’d quite literally taken his breath away with how gorgeous she looked all dolled up. 

“Do I look okay?” she asked, panic in her voice.

“Uh, yeah.” He fumbled out, like he’d forgotten how to speak entirely.

“That’s all? Oh God, I look bad, don’t I?” 

“What? No, you look good, I’m just confused. You going out?” he felt his cheeks warm at his sudden confession, why was it easier to admit that now and not back then?

“I’m going on a date, Lu. I’m freaking out, what if he doesn’t like me? What if I say the wrong thing or say something unfunny?-” 

Luke placed his hands on her shoulders, eyes meeting hers and her voice faded out. For a split second she questioned if going on the date was the right choice, but she caught herself, not letting the comfort of his thumbs rubbing her shoulders distract her. “-There isn’t a reason why he wouldn’t like you, chill. You will be fine, and you are funny, if he doesn’t find you funny then he’s boring as fuck. Who is this guy anyway? Where’s he taking you?”

“Thanks,” she relaxed with a smile, he always could make her feel better. “And are we really doing this again? His name’s Tony and I am meeting him at a bar near campus.” 

“Okay, you want me to walk you? Which bar-” but before Luke could get any further, she’d looked at the time and rushed out. He watched her power-walk down the hall before shutting his door roughly, hissing swears through his teeth. Perfect, just perfect, Luke’s love life was just going so perfect. Whoever this ‘Tony’ was, he despised him with every fibre in his being.

Dylan opened the bathroom door a crack, peeping out as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping the whole time. He didn’t grin like usual, his raised an eyebrow as Luke ran his hands down his face and threw himself onto one of the comfy chairs like a ragdoll. 

“You wanna talk about it? Fill me in here?” he asked, stepping into the room.

As Luke opened his mouth, someone knocked three times on the door. Dylan answered, revealing Mark, Mackie and Ethan kitted out for the gym. Ushering them in, they stood in front of Luke, like a council waiting for him. 

“Hughesy's pissed,” Dylan told the guys, “Luke, we’re here dude, let it out, brother. What’s the deal with you and y/n. You gave Eddy the evils and now you’re slamming doors and swearing your ass off when she goes on a date.”

Luke paused, thought. It wasn’t high school anymore; they were all adults. They weren’t going to tell everyone, they weren’t going to throw it back at him, tease him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it out loud, he already felt like a loser as it was. They were his friends, his brothers. 

“I like y/n, and I have since we were kids. And I’m pissed off because I’m not the guy she’s going on a date with. Okay?” Luke groaned, the guys breaking into menacing grins and nudging each other’s arms.

“Dude, you could have just said something. Come on, Hughesy, we got you.” Mark laughed, grabbing Luke by the arm and pulling him from the chair. They say the friends you make in university are some of the best friends you’ll ever have, and that was the day Luke realised that. If anyone wanted him to be happy, it was them. He wasn’t on his own anymore, he wouldn’t be in an empty house all the time, he wouldn’t have to arrive home and hear the absence of his family. His family were with him all the time now.

*

Seven o’clock. Seven-thirty. Eight o’clock and Tony wasn’t coming. Cars passed, customers entered and exited, the neon lights flickered on and hummed in the dark. The world just passed by. Y/n had never felt more humbled in her life, more embarrassed. To think that he had an interest in her was too ambitious. How could someone do that? Just leave someone outside the bar for an hour with no text or apology. She sat on the curb with her knees to her chest, mascara running down her cheeks waiting for the miracle that he showed his face, and it was an innocent delay. Maybe he got caught up? Maybe he was late from somewhere? Why was she waiting, making excuses for him? But she still waited until the evening faded into the night. She waited on that curb, drained of all feeling, limbs heavy and even her stomach felt void of anything, she didn’t feel like walking back to her dorm, it may as well have been a walk of shame while everyone laughed at how hopeful she had been. No matter what she did, who it was, she was always waiting.

The Yost rink took hockey seriously, team rooms for everything. Gym, common, kitchen, locker room, showers, everything for aspiring professional NHL stars. The guys had started their fixed routine advised by the coaches, an intense gym routine, yes, but anything for hockey. Luke had taken a break from weights, wiping his face with his towel and taking a breather when he’d overheard the conversation, stopped dead in his tracks as the words almost echoed around the room. He didn’t want to have to look at the guy, but did he really have to play on the same team as him too? The worst part was it wasn’t just Luke hearing the conversation, Dylan and Mackie had paused their music to listen in, eyes switching between each other and at Luke, whose jaw clenched tight, and gaze couldn’t have been sharper. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on that date?” Tony’s friend asked, leaning against the treadmill Tony jogged on.

“Huh? With who?” 

“Y’know, the chick from the party? The one who wore that USA Hockey sweatshirt on move-in day? Wonder whose dick she sucked for that.” His friend continued, “Man, she was cute.”

Luke’s blood boiled and his breathing deepened. He bit his tongue; it took everything in him to not bite into both their throats. She didn’t have to suck his dick to get the sweatshirt, he gave it to her before that, because he cared.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that. She’s probably still waiting for me. Leave now and you might catch her.”

Luke huffed, turning on his heel and storming out the gym, scrambling in his pocket for his phone. Tony and his friend snapped their heads to his sudden exit, catching the eyes of Dylan and Mackie who shook their heads in disappointment before turning back to what they were doing. Tony had no idea he had an enemy until then. 

He burst out the gym doors into the hallway, pacing up and down with his fingers tangled in his hair, phone pressed to his ear but every attempt going to voicemail. He gave up texting, he could send a hundred texts, and she wouldn’t see them anyway, her phone was always on silent but with enough hope, she may see him call. 

Goosebumps rose along y/n’s arms, the autumn breeze catching up to her and perhaps she should have worn a jacket after all. She thought about getting up and heading back to her dorm, but the energy to do so had been sucked from her, limbs feeling heavy, and heart shattered. The longer she’d sat there, the more she realised she wasn’t upset about Tony, it was being stood up. He really did not want to see her that badly after all. Watching the same customers walk out the bar that she watched walk in, she pulled her phone out, lockscreen filled with Luke’s contact and five missed calls. What was so important that he had to call now? Why was she suddenly so popular with him again? Just as she scoffed and went to slide her phone into her back pocket, his name flashed again, for the sixth call. Her thumb hovered over the accept button, biting her lip with nerves crawling in her stomach.

“Why weren’t you picking up? Where are you?” His voice was panicked, and she could hear how fast his breathing was through the speaker. 

“Sorry, was too busy sucking off Ohio State’s hockey team.” Her voice clipped, running her nail over her jeans, tears welling in her eyes and reactivating her mascara, if there was any still left on her lashes.

“Haha, so funny.” He laughed sarcastically, “Where are you?” 

“Why do you care suddenly? You’ll probably just laugh in my face anyway.”

“Fucking God, y/n/n. Where are you?”

She flinched slightly at his raised voice, jolting her phone from her ear before replying with a sulky pout, “Diablo’s, but I’ll probably come back soon.”

He hung up, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and bolting out Yost without thinking about anything else. The only thought was getting y/n back safely before the worst happened. What was she thinking? She should've started walking the second Tony failed to arrive, before it was dark. His jogging gradually shifted into a run, Diablo’s wasn’t more than fifteen minutes away from campus, and he was aware that he looked a little crazy running with the bare minimum of usual running gear but that wasn’t the issue. He would have never stood her up like that, he should have walked her to the bar in the first place and waited until he arrived. He should’ve, he should’ve but he didn’t. He’d been harbouring his feelings for so long, yet he couldn’t even provide something as minimal as a walk, but he wouldn’t let her sit outside a bar because of some shitty guy. 

Y/n stretched her legs in front of her, eyes locked on her shoes as her ears tuned the world out, letting it pass by slowly before she thought about getting up. She knew exactly what she was doing. Fallen into yet another trap set her heart, she was waiting for Luke. Again. If it weren’t for the familiar maize and navy trainers appearing in front of her, she would’ve punished herself for even considering that Luke may have cared about her in the slightest. Slowly, she tilted her chin up: the gym shorts, the compression shirt, the flushed cheeks and unruly curls from the wind. What was once a heavy anvil on her shoulders ascended, taking the blues out from her body and replacing them with that spark. That electric spark that made her limbs all tingly with life and energy. Luke’s eyes softened at her, although his fears had been wiped, she was okay, but Tony made her cry. That time and effort she’d put in had ran down her cheeks and if he wasn’t so fuelled with captivation, he would’ve lost his temper. But she was his serenity, always had been.

“You came.” She squeaked, doe eyes peering up at him lovingly.

“Of course I did.” Luke panted, taking her by the hands and pulling her to her feet. He didn’t let go for a while, neither did she. His hands were warm, and she remembered how safe they always made her feel, how he’d always have his arm draped over the back of her seat during the summer, how she felt like the only girl in the world when their eyes met. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.” 

It wasn’t a long walk back, but neither was it romantic. Luke had his hands in his pockets and y/n’s in hers but the distance between them couldn’t have been closer, like two magnets once again, hauling back into each other. When they had taken the fifteen-minute walk back to their dorm block, he walked with her all the way until they stood outside her door and only they could somehow make it awkward. 

They gave each other a small nod, as if to give a silent goodbye until y/n span on her heel, her arms winding around his torso against her better judgement. He blinked twice and froze, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged him so tight, she fit like a glove, and he’d forgotten how much he felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone when in her arms. He melted into her, arms wrapping around her shoulders and resting his lips to the top of her hair. The violent urge to kiss her, only a peck but he knew that if he kissed her once, it’d lead to more. It always did. 

Pulling away, she tilted her head up at him, hands holding the sides of his shirt while his glid to the tops of her shoulders. The silence thick, eyes searching for something, rolling tapes of lost memories they’d tried to forget: the treehouse, the boat, every second they even considered that they had a chance. Luke’s hands cupped her jaw, thumbs caressing over her cheekbones as he licked his lips. Her grip tightened, mouth parting and leaning onto her tiptoes while he dipped down, breaths tying together, noses bumping. He said he wouldn’t do it, she said she didn’t want to do it but in the end all they ever ended up doing was intertwining back into each other. Their lips ghosted, eyelashes fluttering against their cheeks until lips grazed in the slightest. 

The reality of the situation crashed down upon her heavily, like getting caught in a hailstorm. She was a strong soldier, she could resist. Everything would circle back like it always did. They would kiss, things would be fine and then he’d disappear. If it can happen once, it can happen again, and again and again until one of them stopped the chase. Luke would just hurt her again; she would just look for guys to fill the hole in her heart he made when he would leave, and the self-destruction had to stop at some point. Her eyes snapped open, and she nudged him back lightly, “No. I-I can’t do this, Lu.” 

Luke’s world darkened, a hollow sorrow washing through him as he let her push him away. Pathetically, he looked at her, a pleading guilt jabbing him in the stomach as his hands yearned to reach out for her. They hung by his sides instead and she inhaled deeply, shakily.

“I don't get it. One minute I’m everything to you and the next it’s like I don’t exist…you keep coming back at random times like nothing’s happened, at times when I think that you don’t want me anymore…it’s just so- so confusing! I feel like I’m always waiting on you to make up your mind, Luke.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the defeat rising inside her. “You like me and then you don’t and I can’t keep playing cat and mouse all the time. Thank you for picking me up and looking out for me, but until you’ve figured out what you want, please leave me be.” 

 Like that, she was gone. Turned away and retreated to her dorm, leaving him standing like a lost puppy in the hallway. He didn’t want to cry, not there at least but how he’d managed to make things worse, he couldn’t say. All he knew is that she was right, and that was the part that hit him the hardest. He knew his answer, he knew he did want her and was going to give them one last chance, but she didn’t know that. From her perspective, he was just getting close to running away, hoping she’d chase him back but now she wasn’t. The next time they’d meet would either be the last of everything they built, or the start of something new.

When y/n stepped into her dorm looking like she’d been through several horrendous break-ups and four bushes backwards, Bella jolted up from her bed, scrambling out her covers. Y/n told her everything. Everything from her mess with Luke to Tony ditching her. The good, the bad and the ugly about the whole story and while Bella was pissed about the latter, even she could see Luke in a battle of his own. 

“Have you ever considered that Luke’s…y’know…scared?” Bella asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame, eyes meeting y/n’s in the mirror as she scrubbed the mascara from her face. 

As if she couldn’t have made the ordeal any messier than it was, she feared she just had out of her own borderline selfishness. She hadn’t considered his side of the story. Ever.

*

One intensely lit house with LED light strips covering the walls, pulsing and flashing changing colours in beat with the music blaring through the speakers, two girls weaved their way through a sea of bodies into the kitchen, five boys hovering in the living room, making conversation with sophomores in the frat. 

Their first frat party as freshmen and the nerves were skyrocketing. The only reason y/n and Bella went was because Dylan had invited y/n, and she begged Bella to tag along since it would be a fun experience and so she didn’t have to go alone. So far, so good. They’d lost count of how many drinks they’d poured, shots taken, people spoken to, they were just girls. 

The boys were on a mission. Well, Luke was, the boys were just orchestrating events and giving Luke multiple pep-talks about it being ‘now or never’. They were right, of course. Luke had just over a week of no contact, a week for staring at his reflection in the mirror, lying in bed at night staring at the ceiling, thinking, planning, anticipating and now it would all stop. 

Ethan lined up his shot, ping pong ball loosely held between his fingers, and he released, biting his lip as the ball bounced into the opposing team’s cup. The boys cheered, throwing each other into fist bumps and bro-hugs, a few girls applauding around them. Y/n and Bella stood within that surrounding crowd, Mark wiggling them to the front as if they were VIPs, part of their group. When Luke’s turn came around, she noticed the fan club he’d gained, pretty girls giggling and whispering between each other, cheering when Luke’s shot landed in the cup. She ran her tongue over her top teeth, a lethal glare on the girls as they tried to loop their arms around Luke’s, but her muscles relaxed seeing Dylan and Mackie stand beside him, ushering the girls back. 

Bella nudged her, leaning over to murmur in her ear, “Something tells me he’s made up his mind.”

Y/n opened her mouth, but Mark stumbled over his feet in front of them, asking if they fancied another drink (of course they did) and taking both their wrists gently with a goofy grin on his face, leading them through the people, brushing past a couple guys in the doorway whose eyes followed them towards the back corner of the kitchen, where the rest of the guys had managed to claim. Mark was sweet, baby faced and a ball of sunshine with contagious energy, ensuring they were in the circle securely. He ushered y/n between himself and Luke, Bella on the other side with Dylan and Mackie but no matter how tucked away she was in the boys, the looming gaze of someone else clawed at her. 

Ten minutes passed, the group still in a deep conversation amongst themselves and she peered back over her shoulder again, the - presumably older guy, maybe a senior - still watching her every move like a hawk, leaning into his friend and pointing at her with smirks. There’s nothing more terrifying in a woman’s life than knowing you’re being watched because being watched means there’s a further plan. If she had known she was being watched at the carnival, she could have moved somewhere else but now, she did know she was being watched and her legs paralysed, staying where she was would keep her safe. But she wanted to run, run home, run to her bed, run to her dorm where she couldn’t be found, and security cameras lined the halls. The only security blanket keeping her heart from palpitating was Mark and Luke beside her, yet the guy didn’t seem bothered by that at all.

There were too many people to run, the kitchen too crowded to slip away without getting caught by him but any longer being stared down by the guy and tears may have fallen, making the whole situation worse. Until she stepped to the side, bumping into a familiar arm. An arm that snaked around her torso and hand settled on her hip, tucking her into his side while he casually continued his conversation with Dylan. He held her close so naturally as if embedded into his autopilot, an instinct. Excitement bubbled in her stomach, exploding in her chest when Luke kissed her hair, watching the guy from across the room disappear from his peripheral vision. The guy may have been watching y/n, but Luke had been watching the guy the entire time, flashbacks from the carnival haunting him. Even if she were to shove him away, the least he could do was keep her safe from the start this time. Y/n didn’t shove him away, she leant into him like putty melding to his form, if she was with him, all the nerves disintegrated. 

“No, that’s what I’m saying!” Ethan’s voice raised above, turning from Mark as he turned to the rest of the group, “Okay, is anyone else down for shots? I have this spinner game.” 

In a group agreement, Ethan pulled his phone out, loading up said spinner game and showing his screen. The spinner had different shots on a wheel, from tequila to whiskey to rum to vodka to body shots, the aim to spin and take whatever the arrow landed on. Ethan spun first, resulting in his fate being sealed by whatever whiskey they found lying around the counters. The shot burned unpleasantly down his throat, but anything for a good time. Mackie spun next, taking a dance with tequila and if he had learnt something that night, it was that him and tequila were not fated to be lovers. Both Dylan and Bella took their vodka shots with their arms intertwined with each other. Luke took his turn, unbothered by what his result was until the arrow landed on a body shot. He shook his head smiling, the guys allowing him to choose his partner. 

Y/n tugged on his t-shirt, gesturing her head towards the island counter behind Mark and Ethan. The group grinned, a concoction of ‘oooh’ and ‘yeah’ filling the corner as she hoisted herself onto the marble, Luke standing between her legs and receiving his tequila shot from Dylan. She tugged the strap of her tank top over her shoulder slightly, giving Luke enough room to sprinkle the line of salt on the crook of her neck while Mark returned with a slice of lime. Luke’s eyes met hers, giving her a look of reassurance, a kind look asking her if she was all right. She licked her lips, that familiar coquettish look blazing back at him just like in the treehouse last summer. Tequila burned down his throat, tongue licking the salt from her neck, scenarios of slow and wet kisses across the skin, his teeth sinking into her tearing through her imagination, y/n struggling to keep quiet but when his mouth had found her sweet spot like that, she wanted nothing more than for him to devour her then and there. 

He couldn’t have cared less about the salt, his face belonged buried in her neck and if he could rewind the clock just to repeat his actions then he would have. His hands steadied by her sides, heat flushing to his neck and the lime he was supposed to take next may as well have never existed. The opportunity was there, he could finally show her his decision, how he felt and what he wanted. The audience around them didn’t matter, to him, it was just him and y/n in some random frat’s kitchen, a simple body shot doing God’s work but Ethan rigging the game earning the MVP award for the night. He emerged from her neck, parting his lips slightly and falling weak to her and he was done with keeping her waiting. 

Pulling the lime from her lips, he tossed it aside, both hands cupping her jaw, the world stopping entirely when their lips met hastily. He kissed her like every time before, heavy and with meaning, like it screamed a thousand different tequila flavoured ways to convey his feelings. Her hands delicately placed themselves over his, keeping him close, keeping him in and pressed into her, shockwaves over her body and she melted into him with parting lips. Their friends cheered and hooted, clinking their shot glasses together but it fell deaf upon Luke and y/n, their tongues tangled in a bruising, breathless kiss until they had to pull away for air. His lips pulled into a grin, thumbs soothing over her cheeks as her eyes slowly widened with a smile spreading across her face. 

Luke dipped closer to her ear, hands falling to her hips and murmured, “It’s always been you.” 

“Let’s go somewhere quieter-” she turned her head towards him, lips close to his ear, but Dylan slapped Luke’s back and yelled something about their room being off limits for the night as he passed, Bella dragging him through the kitchen. 

Luke’s eyebrows raised upon initially entering y/n’s room, a homely feeling embracing him when she switched the fairy lights on, and they ditched their shoes next to the door. Y/n waved him over to her bed, her back against the headboard and he followed, squeezing next to her, arm wrapping around her shoulders and tucking her into his chest. They knew they owed each other a talk, their sides of the story, the rise and the fall. Luke needed to explain, and she needed to confess, the longer they pretended like it wasn’t eating them alive the thicker that wedge between them became.

“I didn’t like Cameron at all, I only went out with him to make you jealous. I thought you’d get protective…” she said, Luke humming in acknowledgement, “I just wanted that little confirmation that I mattered.”

“Yeah, it worked. But you always mattered, s’why I’ve been trying all this time to ask you out.” He mumbled, his voice seductively low, rumbling through his chest.

“Then what were you gonna say at the end of summer, because I know it wasn’t supposed to be about the beach.” 

Luke inhaled deeply, his hand snaking to her waist and settling on her hip, “I was gonna ask you on a date to the arcade we loved as kids…but then I freaked out and got scared again…” 

“Why were you scared, Lu? What was there to be scared of?” She couldn’t get the pieces to click, and Luke grew frustrated, admitting things was not an easy job. 

“Y/n, I’ve loved you my entire life, everything was to be scared of. I thought you didn’t like kissing me, then you went on a date with what's-his-face, then Cameron and somewhere between there I don’t know, I thought it was over for me, that we were just friends. I thought I’d lost you after all those years of trying.”  He rambled, the pent-up words falling from his mouth, but he didn’t sound annoyed, not once. If anything, the weight that latched itself onto Luke’s shoulders lifted the more he rambled. 

She had been right; she hadn’t thought about his perspective on everything. He’d done nothing but put her first, hold her hand, kiss her, accompany her, rescue her, be the boyfriend she never had, and she threw him to the side for some guy as if he never mattered. Then wondered why he was so far away. Perhaps she would’ve reacted the same, after all, seeing someone you love with another isn’t a burden easy to bear. Guilt choked her hard, he knew all along what he wanted, and she’d just made it difficult to confess. Really shitty but she was part of the problem Luke battled.

“You never lost me, Lu,” with glossy eyes and a delicate touch to his jaw, she turned his head to face her, “we’ve been close for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s why I was scared. I can’t just be friends with you and last summer we weren’t just friends, y/n. Last summer meant everything to me and I really hoped you’d be my girl and well, I fucked that up.” His eyes flickered to her lips, he should have felt bad as tears welled in her eyes, but he finally, with the liquid courage from earlier, could get the words out how he wanted. 

Her lip quivered, hand cupping the nape of his neck and her thumb leaving feathery touches over his jaw, a tear breaking through and slipping down her cheek, “Me too. Is there a chance…I can still be your girlfriend?”

“You think I kissed you for shits and giggles?” He leaned in, half on his own and half with the prompt of her pulling him closer, pressing their lips together tentatively, a warmth of familiarity blooming through them like flowers in their lungs. But those flowers weren’t choking them anymore, they weaved between their ribcages and bones like a garden of bliss and beauty, pollinating their hearts with desire. 

He licked across her bottom lip, tongue finding hers in a languid rhythm while his free hand wrapped around her thigh, pulling her over to straddle his lap. Y/n moaned into the kiss, relaxing under his hands gliding over every inch of her waist and back, pressing her body into his with lips disconnecting with strings of saliva between them. He smothered her neck in electrifying butterfly kisses, from her ear down to the crook of her neck to that sweet spot he’d found earlier, nipping at the skin until her fingers laced in his curls, tugging and drawing a deep, raw groan from his chest. 

Luke’s hands, hot and calloused, snuck under her top, slowly following the natural curve of her spine and waist, the fabric rising the further he explored, thumbs teasing her underside of her breasts along the lace of her bra. Lace. The concept of y/n wearing lace underwear sent shivers down his spine, heat to his dick and his hips bucked up as if a reflex, but it wasn’t the first time he’d imagined it. A high-pitched whimper escaped her lips, little sparks flushing over her skin the further her top seemed to hike up her body until Luke bunched the fabric at her chest, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the end of her bed, his warm lips attacking her collarbones with little nips disguised by kisses before sucking pink blossoms along her skin to her tits, his large hands cupping and kneading. 

“No fair,” her fingers tugged at the back of his t-shirt, clumsily pulling it up his back. He let out a low chuckle into her skin before sitting straight, discarding the clothing over his head and setting his hands on her waist. She’d seen him hundreds of times before, but this was different, this was private. “So fucking pretty, Lu. Just wanna…”

“Just wanna what?” he purred, leaning back into the headboard and adjusting his hips up against her, his jeans failing to hide his solid cock bumping her crotch. “If you’re gonna talk dirty to me, you gotta use your words, pretty girl. I don’t know what you want me to do.” 

She gasped, pussy fluttering at the friction and her dreamy gaze brought his cocky smirk back to his lips. Luke’s hands gripped her hips tighter, guiding them to roll over his dick once more, twice more, until her nails dug into his shoulders for stability, inner core burning like fire with every brush against her clit, panties sticking to her folds in ways that disgraced her dignity. It felt so good, she felt good, just dry humping alone had her jaw slacking and little pants of air slipping through her lips all while Luke tilted his head back, grinning ear to ear with his eyes closed, cock throbbing painfully. He wouldn’t have cared if he came right then and there, in his boxers that he would sure have to wear in the morning. 

She took his hands off her hips, gliding them up her body until they reached her back, his fingers meeting the clasp of her bra as she slid the straps over her shoulders, a sultry yet so encouraging look smeared across her face. He struggled slightly with the clasp, but her hands cupping his face rid of the embarrassment before it had even hit, the underwear falling from her body and discarded to the floor. Luke licked his lips, her hands finding their way to his and placing them over her tits, an invitation to explore how he pleased. His ears tinted pink again, eyes unable to leave the view of his hands timidly groping her chest and every thought he’d been having up until that moment blanked. Soft, so soft and squishy, God he could do that forever, sleep on them until the end of time. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, her back arching into him and y/n let out an airy whimper, tilting her head back. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, y/n,” he hummed, one hand lying flat on her back as he dipped down, pressing wet kisses to her tit, taking the peak between his lips and swirling his tongue leisurely around her nipple. His other hand wrapped around her other breast, groping and squishing it, pinching the nipple between his fingers until her airy whimpers increased into lewd cries of his name, a whirling warmth in her throbbing cunt. He released her - now wet - tit, breathing heavily with disbelief. He’d just sucked his childhood crush, long-time friend’s tit, in her room and she was really half naked on his lap, definitely feeling how hard he was against her pussy, and he loved every second of this animalistic yearning coursing through him.

Y/n’s hands trailed down his chest, over every dip and definition of his muscles until they fumbled with his belt, mind becoming hazy at the memory of the way she looked at him the last time she’d taken him in her mouth, the pleasant challenge of getting his tip to hit the back of her throat, his whimpering and begging replaying in her ears. Sliding backwards down his legs, she barely got her mouth anywhere near his cock before his fingers wrapped around her neck, pressing firmly on the sides and pulling her back up to his eye level, her heart pulsing in her ears with the condescending look on his face. He slotted his mouth on hers to find her tongue again, saliva pooling at the corner of their lips and they didn’t hate it. She shouldn’t have enjoyed the compression as much as she did, but his hands were so much bigger on her body, like he could crush her and her eyes threatened to roll to the back of her head, a strained moan gasping out. 

“Please,” she whined between kisses, “taste so good, so big, need you.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s my turn.” He looked down at her before releasing her throat, winding an arm around her and flipping her onto her back underneath him. He painted her body with gentle kisses, from the valley of her breasts, down her stomach to the top of her shorts, smoothly unbuttoning them and pulling the zip down with his teeth, “Been thinkin’ about how you taste. Can I?”

He peered up at her through his eyelashes, watching y/n prop herself onto her elbows and lick her lips. She paused, the silence comfortable as he waited for her consent, “Yeah, please…this is just…never done this before.” 

Luke kissed her stomach before sitting onto his knees, giving her a warm, reassuring smile before hooking his fingers around the waist of her shorts, “Neither. We’ll figure it out, okay?” 

She nodded, smiling, lifting her hips and letting him slide the clothing down her legs and ditching them somewhere on the floor. He straddled back over her, running his hands over her bare legs before dipping down to place a hot kiss on her clothed clit, sparks skimming over his body by how sopping her panties were. 

She whimpered quietly, watching him begin to lower himself before she placed her foot onto his shoulder, pushing him back onto his knees, head lulling into her shoulder with a desperate tint in her eyes, “Jeans, off.”

The corner of his lips tugged upwards as he slid off the bed, kicking his jeans and socks off and crawling back over her, settling between her legs again. His fingers re-hooked around her waistband, gliding her panties down her legs leaving tingles like feathers along the skin in their wake before she removed her legs from them one by one. He threw of leg over his shoulders, laying on his stomach and left slow kisses along her inner thigh, nipping at the skin to pull a squeal from her and sucking over the spot until a purple blotch marked. One hand lay splayed over her lower stomach, his other holding her other leg slightly apart, enough to catch a view of her glistening folds and give him room to spread them open with his thumb. 

“Fuck, gonna need you to use your words here, pretty girl.” His voice was gruff, breath hitting her sensitivity, and she lulled her head back, readjusting herself on her elbows because there was no way she would miss watching him devour her. His thumb circled her clit dubiously, eyes peeking up at her and even though the sensation didn’t hit just right yet, having any sort of attention to a virgin clit still sent pleasure to her head.

“Little firmer, little faster-oh!” she explained, Luke following her instructions as she spoke until the sensation hit her like a brick, jolting through her, jaw falling slack, “Like that, Lu, shit.”

He grinned, running his other thumb through her folds, spreading the slick before taking his thumb into his mouth, eyes locked into hers, licking and relishing in the way she tasted and humming into the heaven that consumed him. Sinking lower into her mattress, he drew his hand away from her clit, hand pressing down on her stomach and other wrapping her thigh around his shoulder, tongue flicking at her bundle of nerves, small kisses, nipping, sucking until she raked her fingers through his curls, pushing him into her cunt. He ran his tongue through her folds, lapping at the pussy juices without a care about how loud he was being, nose bumping into her clit, her jaw falling agape and helpless mewls slipped through her lips as she bucked her hips up pathetically. He could have eaten her out all day, his new favourite place to hide that graced him with the most beautiful, pornographic noises from his favourite person. He couldn’t help himself, there was too much ecstasy intoxicating him that he barely noticed himself rutting his cock into the mattress the hungrier he dipped into her.

He pulled back momentarily, lips vibrating against her cunt that had her wines drawn-out and fingers tugging at his curls in a way that tore guttural groans from him, “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, all fuckin’ mine.” 

He dove back in, hands pinning her to the bed and plunging his tongue into her, moaning against her folds so harsh they reverberated through her body, making every hair stand on end. He lifted his head up, middle finger tracing through her folds and sliding inside her easily, a wave of fire washing over her, and his ring finger entered alongside, Luke pumping them in precise and careful motions while watching the way her face contorted with pleasure. 

“That’s it, good girl,” he cooed, his name falling from her mouth like a song. He curled his fingers, realising he’d hit the right spot when her breath hitched and whimpered out, “so loud f’me, that’s it, taking my fingers so well.”

“There, right there, Luke! Don’t stop!” 

His fingers thrusted in and out of her with a rhythm, cherishing the warmth and completely obsessed how she stretched out for him, biting his lip and petting her g-spot as she squirmed, his hand on her stomach keeping her still. He drew his fingers out, taking them into his mouth, eyes almost fluttering closed at the taste until he dove straight back into her pussy, messily letting his tongue work its magic with his nose hitting her clit with each dip.

“Lu! Luke, please Luke,” she sobbed out desperately, free hand gripping the bedsheets. She couldn’t believe he’d never gone down on a woman before, he ate her like a starved man, so many pleasures triggering at once, her body and mind completely short-circuited, and she was left with filthy whines and incoherent sentences. “Gonna cum, let me cum, please-”

Her words dissipated into the air, eyes rolling back as the brutality of his tongue lapped and assaulted mercilessly, arousal coating his chin as he attempted to pull her impossibly closer. He’d never thought he’d be so pussydrunk on someone before, especially going in with only the knowledge his friends had given him after many late-night conversations in random car parks of fast-food restaurants. The coil in her stomach tightened, eyes squeezing shut and she was so close to that final release until cold air fanned her pussy. Eyes snapping open, she whipped her head forward to see Luke staring at her with wild eyes, arousal dripping from his chin and her fingers slipped from his hair as he sat on his knees, her legs falling and wrapping around his hips as he wiped his face with his hand, licking the excess from his fingers. 

“Why’d you stop? I was so close.” She whined, but trailed off the further he tugged his boxers off, cock springing free, and he hovered over her, dipping down to kiss her softly, trailing from her lips, along her cheek to the shell of her ear.

“Want you to cum on my cock,” he purred, latching his teeth onto her collarbone, sucking until he’d left his mark, teasing her cunt by running his tip through her folds until her arms wrapped around his back, nails digging into the flexed muscles.

“Fuck, need you inside me, Lu,” she said in a small voice, unable to take the teasing anymore with a throbbing pussy and desperate need to be filled up, “m’on the pill, please, fuck me.”

“Ssh, I got you,” he murmured, inching his cock in painfully slow but the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Luke groaned into her shoulder, every vein, every nerve caressing her warm walls the further she swallowed his size. God, she felt so perfect, suited for him and for a moment he thought she’d struggle to take him until something about imagining the bulge in her stomach as she tried to take him made his cock twitch. Once he bottomed out, their lips met for a long kiss, her tongue darting into his mouth and muffling her moans as she adjusted to his size, core burning at how he stuffed her full and she craved more. 

Y/n’s nails massaged his scalp, tugging gently, “You can move,” she whispered.

He steadied his biceps either side of her head, rocking his hips back and forth languidly like she was made of glass until the little high-pitched whimpers sank into his skin, spurring him to increase his pace, feeling her tits bounce against his chest with every push in. Sweat formed on his forehead, curls beginning to stick as he huffed hot air into the crook of her neck.

“So tight, y/n, feel so fuckin’ good,” his lips laced her neck in sloppy kisses before sitting on his knees, hands on her hips in a vice grip as he drilled into her, gradually thrusting harder and faster the more his eyes locked on the bulge in her lower stomach. His splayed hand over it, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest, “so fuckin’ tight n’ look at that.”

“Feels s’good!” she cried, “Oh- yes, Lu, yes.”

Her nails dug into the sheets, fisting them as Luke snapped his hips, euphoria erratically zapping him as he watched the way his cock bulged and dipped with his thrusting, her walls clenching around him. She wailed out an erotic moan, mind fogging and the only sense working in her system being the way she could feel his cock pulse inside her, dragging along her walls and stuffing her full like he was meant to. 

“You feel me, babe? Feel how fuckin’ well your pretty pussy takes me?” A carnal desire controlled him like a puppet, the deeper he slammed his dick into her, the louder the slapping of skins and he leaned back down over her, feeling her arms struggle to embrace his much larger body and nails clawing angry marks into his skin as if marking her territory. He could get used it, no one else could make him feel the way she did. No one could make him want to fuck her with every drop of love and affection he had in him other than y/n. He wasn’t driving into her because he was horny, he wanted to be closer, feel purpose and comfort with being vulnerable and exposed and it just happened to be the most pervertedly enthralling experience of his life. 

“L-Lu! M’gonna c..cum.” she panted, letting drawn-out, wanton moans bounce off her dorm room walls the deeper he plunged his cock into her, “So big- let me cum, please.”

“Me too, pretty, me too.” He planted a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the salty sweat coating his tastebuds, he couldn’t have cared less, it wasn’t like he wasn’t drenched in sticky sweat too. 

She began to fall limp, her grip on him loosening as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the coil in her stomach unable to get any tighter and on its last legs. She didn’t want the high to end, the volume of the world starting to cut to white noise and vision blurry, Luke’s stuttering thrusts tearing an orgasm through her while he fucked her through his own, white, creamy release circling the base of his cock as his rutting slowed to a stop. He collapsed onto her chest, buring his face into her neck and panting falling in sync with hers. 

He pulled out, wiping the leaking cum from her thighs with his finger and taking in the last juices before nestling into her breasts. His eyes fell heavy when her fingers carded through his curls and with the little energy he had left, he kissed her cheek, “You did so well for me, such a good girl. Pretty fuckin’ noises just f’me.”

They lay in silence to muster up their energy, breathing patterns in sync, y/n tracing patterns over his back and Luke periodically leaving chaste kisses on her collarbone. The world couldn’t have been more perfect, even if their skins stuck together grossly, even if they had to sleep in cum-stained sheets for the night, he planned to help with cleaning those in the morning anyway. Y/n’s heart didn’t race with him anymore, it slowed with serenity of finally having a person, finally being able to breathe around him. There was truly no greater feeling than the tranquillity of devotion blooming through two lovers. 

Y/n tapped his back lightly, indicating that she needed to get up. He weakly crawled off, helping her by the hand and following her to her bathroom. They didn’t bother with privacy while she peed, they’d just had sex, what was there to hide now? What Luke did do, was wet a cloth y/n had pointed to him and do his best do wipe up any excess release off the mattress, highly aware that most if it would have dried by that point.

“Lu?” she called out quietly, poking her head from the bathroom. He turned his head, calmly, “You showering now or in the morning?” 

Something so simple, so domestic had his heart melting inside his chest, “I’ll go after you.”

She smiled, disappearing back into the bathroom. He picked up his clothes, folding them and placing them onto her desk chair. He folded her clothes next, hanging them on the back of her chair and pulling her pyjamas out from under her pillow, where she always put pyjamas, no matter where she was. Luke’s mind slowly functioned like normal again, the high of sex wearing down yet still giddy in his system. After years of pining, failing, chasing, crying, they finally fell into place. Was it worth it? Yeah, maybe. Was there an easier way? Absolutely, but he was younger then, scared and stupid. It didn’t matter anymore, he had his girl, and he loved her more than anything.

*

Y/n stirred, sleepy eyes opening to a weight on her chest, a grounding weight with long, unruly curls brushing against her lips ever so slightly, one palm cupped over her breast with his ear pressed to the other. Luke’s other arm managed to wind itself around her waist, trapped between the curve of her back and the mattress, one of her hands gently stroking through his hair and the other tracing the red scratch marks along his bare back. His breathing heavy but his face so peaceful and she smiled to herself. No, she didn’t think he’d run off before she’d woken up but she had entered university thinking it wouldn’t be him in her bed at all, but she was elated that it was. There wasn’t a better sight to see at eight in the morning. 

Luke’s eyes fluttered open, groaning deeply at his hair being played with and he nuzzled into her chest. He rasped, morning voice deep and husky, “Morning, beautiful.” 

“Good morning, pretty boy.” She smiled, pushing hair off his forehead. She wanted to wake up like that every day, tangled with Luke, him being the first person she saw, listened to. Even if he was much larger than she was, the pressure of him laying on her body was comforting, domestic even.

He shuffled around, removing his arm from around her waist, letting the blood flow back through it before propping himself onto his elbows. His eyes scanned her features, her sleepy eyes, tousled hair, the red bites on her collarbones and his lips pulled into a beatific and lazy grin.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, his smile transferred to her infectiously and she cupped his cheek. 

“Thinkin’ about how much I love you, s’all.” 

Y/n’s chest warmed, fireworks exploding at her loverboy gazing at her with awe glazed over his eyes, the words falling onto her ears feeling right, bright and fresh like the first time the sun shines in the spring and all the new life begins. 

“I love you too,” she kissed his forehead, interrupted by his stomach rumbling, “breakfast?”

He threw back the duvet, scrambling off her and sighing at his clothes he folded on the chair, y/n shuffling around behind him before handing him his USA Hockey sweatshirt and a pair of shorts he’d left at her’s over the summer. He slipped his phone from his jeans pocket, how it had managed to stay tucked in there was beyond his knowledge and how it still had twenty-percent of battery was also a question for the deities above. 

Luke almost dropped his phone when two arms wrapped around his torso from behind, his cheeks burning from smiling and his stomach fluttering, “The guys wanna debrief in the dining hall.”

“Mmm’kay, but you know they’re gonna ask where we went last night, right? What do we say?” she peppered his back with kisses until he spun around, her arms still looped around his torso but now he could take her face into his hands.

“As if they’d remember, they’d be lucky to remember anything after doing shots.” He laughed, planting a kiss to her hair. 

Luke had been right. The boys and Bella all sat at one of the tables, coffees and bowls of cereals and plates of toast being poked at with hands cradling heads, hoods pulled over. Luke and y/n joined them, their own breakfast in front of them and slightly perkier than their friends.

“You guys look rough, long night?” Luke quipped, shoving cereal into his mouth. He didn’t feel too bad, but by the time he’d kissed y/n on the counter he’d sobered up. 

“Bro don’t even go there,” Mark grumbled, his face pale, “the last thing I remember is Ethan asking to do shots and beyond that is blank. Woke up on the floor in last night’s clothes.” 

“How the fuck are you okay, man? You were on beer and tequila!” Dylan complained, hoodie pulled high up his neck and drawstrings pulled tight, his hair dishevelled still. 

“No, no, there’s a more important question,” Mackie waved his spoon around at the group, giving Bella an encouraging side-eye, who kicked Ethan under the table.

“Ow, shit-” he hissed, but eventually catching the others drift. Y/n gulped, her breathing becoming shaky, and Luke’s hand found her knee, thumb caressing it softly as all eyes fell to the pair. What was she supposed to say now, anxiety fizzled in her stomach and Luke’s chest tightened. No, they weren’t ashamed but it’s not something you outwardly announce to people you’ve known just over a month, “Legend has it that there’s some deep lore going on here.”

Y/n exhaled, her breathing finding it’s pace again and Luke felt like he’d been freed of all his bounds. That…was not what they were expecting at all. They looked at each other uncertainly, shrugging before turning back to the others.

“Yeah, come on, do tell. If we’re gonna be friends, we gotta know the backstory of this whole thing we got roped into. We got time.” Mark leaned closer into the group, they all leaned closer as if they were about to hear the greatest secret of all time. 

They both sighed, Luke speaking up first, “Well, it all started when we were five-”

The retelling began, everyone invested in their cat and mouse game that demonstrated how naive and fragile the world can be. The rumble of the dining hall silenced out in their ears, and while one chapter closed for good, university would open another, but this time, they’d live it together where they’d be on the same page instead of skipping sections or tearing parts out. Luke got his girl and y/n got her romance, and neither would be stuck waiting on each other anymore.

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[ellecdc]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn’t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Model

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Like one dirty comment

You knew Mattheo a little from classes. You shared a few here and there throughout the years and would talk when you were sat next to each other. You wouldn’t exactly classify him as a friend, more like an acquaintance. You, of course, knew his reputation-the fights and drinking and smoking, being the Dark Lord’s son. It wasn’t exactly good and pure. Yet he was always kind to you when you spoke, making jokes to make you laugh. You didn’t exactly see him as this purely evil boy that people make him out to be. Sure, he got into fights and did things he wasn’t supposed to, but don’t most guys do that anyways?

You noticed a lot of things about him, just from observing him. Things like he preferred sweets over anything else, he always loaded his coffee with sugar and creamer, he befriended some of the animals around Hogwarts like the stray cats and crows, anytime he got new converse, he would draw on them the first day. None of these things exactly screamed “evil” to you.

The one thing you never noticed about him though, would be in the classes that you did have together that you were apart from each other in, he would draw you. He liked how focused you looked in class as you took notes. He liked how the pen looked in your hands. He liked how your legs looked, especially the softness of your thighs when you sat down. He liked the little bit of your chest he could see when you unbuttoned the top buttons of your shirt when it was too hot. He liked how soft your hair looked and the small strands that fell whenever you’d put your hair up. He liked how you’d pull the school robe around you whenever you got cold in class. He liked you.

So, instead of focusing on class, he would sketch you. It could be your hands, or your face, or the back of your head, or your legs when you crossed them under the desk. Whatever he could see or whatever caught his attention the most. 

His friends would joke around and call him creepy or a stalker, but he just thought you were too beautiful not to draw. How could he not when you just looked so…he had no words to really describe how he thought. Beautiful was okay. Gorgeous, maybe. Ethereal? Yeah, that would be the closest he could get to how he felt.

“You know, you could easily be a model.” Mattheo said as he was sat across the desk from you in one of your classes, his head resting in his hand as he looked at you.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks, but I’m not sure about that.” You said, looking up from your work to look at him.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m that pretty.”

He raised his eyebrows. That was just absurd to him. “Would you mind modeling for me anyways? I’d like practice drawing from a live model.” He asked, biting back the urge to tell you how wrong you were.

“You wanna draw me?” You asked with a bit of amusement and disbelief.

“I’d like to try something new rather than just drawing nature.” He said, and it was a half lie. It definitely wasn’t new to draw you, but it would be new to draw you posing for him.

“I suppose I can do that. What’s in it for me?” You asked, tilting your head with a small, teasing smile.

“My company.” He smiled back, just as teasingly.

“And what makes you think I would want that?”

“Who doesn’t? I mean, look at me.” He leaned back in his seat and gestured to himself.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Not a ‘no’, though.”

“How about you get me some butter beer next time we’re at Hogsmeade and you got a deal?” You say, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you proposing a date with me, Miss (Y/L/N)?” He teased, his smile growing.

“No, simply saying you owe me, Mr, Riddle.”

“Deal.” He said just as class ended. “Meet me tomorrow after breakfast in the courtyard, yeah?”

“Okay.” You said as you both were putting away your things. “See you then.” You shot him a smile as you stood up and left the classroom.

The next day was Saturday, so there were no classes. You ate breakfast in the Great Hall before heading out to the courtyard and spotted Mattheo standing under the tree. He was smoking, but immediately put it out as soon as he saw you walking towards him.

“Smoking this early?” You asked teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the speech. It'll kill me, I should stop, find another outlet.” He said sarcastically.

“Am I that predictable?” You joked, smiling at him as you stopped just a couple of feet away from him.

“How about you drop the sass and just sit here and look pretty for me?” He cocked his head, challenging you.

“So bossy. You're gonna draw me out here?” You asked, looking around.

“Best lighting here this time of day.” He said. “You're not backing out on me now, are you?” 

“I didn't say that. Where would you like me?” You said as you looked back at him.

“Here.” He gestured to one of the stone arches where you could sit.

You sat down on the arch, crossing your legs. “How would you like me?”

He tilted his head as he stared at you for a moment. “Lean back on your hands.” He said as he sat down a little away from you.

You leaned back on your hands, otherwise not changing anything else. “Like that?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he grabbed his sketchbook from his bag. “Now just sit and look pretty for me.” He gave you a cheeky smile before starting to draw you.

You sat there for a few moments, just letting him draw before speaking up. “You know, when you asked me to model for you, I thought you were gonna try sneaking in some way to get me naked.”

“I was gonna work my way up. Earn your trust.” He said playfully, smirking as he glanced up at you.

You took a pinecone next to you and threw it at him, just grazing his arm, before getting back in the pose.

“Hey! I was joking!” He laughed, brushing the dirt from the pinecone off of his sleeve. “Though, I definitely won't complain if you did wanna pose naked for me.”

“You're disgusting.” You shot back in a teasing manner.

“Okay, okay, I'll leave it alone.” He said before going back to drawing. “Now sit still.”

“Demanding.” You muttered.

“You know, most models don't talk when they're being drawn.”

“Is that your way of telling me to stop talking?”

“I was trying to be subtle.”

“Rude.” You muttered again and he gave you a playful glare, but made no further comment.

You let him draw you in silence from there, minus his quiet mutters to himself. He loved being able to look at you with an excuse, he loved admiring all the small details-any scars, freckles, moles-all the imperfections that he thought made you look perfect.

He finally finished, looking between you and the drawing, making sure he got everything.

“Alright, I'm done. You wanna see it?” He asked, giving you a moment to stretch.

“Yeah, let's see it.” You said as you stood up, walking over to him.

He turned his sketchbook around towards you, looking just a little sheepish.

“Woah.” You took the sketchbook from him to get a better look. “Are you sure this is me? This person is way too beautiful.” You chuckled.

“That's how I see you.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal.

“You think I'm this pretty?” You asked, looking up at him now.

“I don't think I could ever do you justice, if I'm honest.” He admitted, the slightest blush dusting his cheeks. That was so embarrassing to admit for him.

“You mean that?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” He said and stood up. “I, um…I’ve always thought you were pretty. Well, ‘pretty’ doesn’t even begin to cover how I think.” He gave you a cute, but embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of his neck as the blush deepened.

You could feel your own face heat up. “Well, I think you did a really good job with the drawing. This definitely does me justice.” You said, turning your attention back to the drawing.

“I could always use more practice, you know.” He said, not looking away from you.

“Are you asking me to model for you again?” You asked, eyes flicking back up to him.

“Yeah.”

You smiled, looking back at the drawing for a second before looking back at him. “Fine, but that means you’ll owe me two butter beers.”

“I guess I can do that.” His smile widened.

Taglist:

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@notavailibles-world @tantrumbaby @peonies-and-unicorns @dorkyfangirl24

[cheriecelestial]

Jacob Black's Self Saving System Pt.1

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ crack.swearing.not proofread

synopsis *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Jason, a self-proclaimed no. 1 Stephenie Meyer hater, finds himself unexpectedly transmigrated into the very novel he disdained. Following this ironic twist of fate, he is now tasked with the challenge of creating a better version of the story himself.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Inspired from @duckysprouts ’s series. It’s so good ⁉️‼️. If you haven’t seen it already, PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT. Like finally svsss content that isn’t shizun sphinx cats or binghe skin creature abomination. Art and concept so fresh it made my heart cry with joy and pulled me out of my three-month long writing slump. So, I humbly present this as an offering to our lord and savior, Ducky. Comment, Reblog and Like (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer was a modern classic in its renaissance era with a large cult that loved to hate it. Set in a place with relentless rain, mist shrouded forest and an ethereal light piercing the gloom — the light being the one of only Edward Cullen. Though the statement is subject to fan bias — he was a man, rather sparkly vampire, who somehow managed to be both irresistible and perpetually constipated. 

Nonetheless, his charms never overshadowed the stellar performance of our female lead, Isabella Marie Swan— better known as Bella — a teenager who gained worldwide fame for having a personality less vibrant than a wet cabbage. Together, they navigated the perilous world of teenage angst, vampire baseball, millenia old racist italian politicians and werewolves with a curious t-shirt allergy, all in an impressively monotone palette.

It was a heartwarming tale that began with awkward stares, cryptic yet nauseatingly clichéd conversations and Bella’s inexplicable attraction to danger, making the romance as thrilling as it was perplexing. Meanwhile, the supporting cast of her high school friends, each with their own irrelevant quirks and subplots, served as convenient plot devices — appearing and disappearing at the whim of the author.

And as if her love life wasn’t tumultuous enough, Bella befriended Jacob Black. A werewolf who, unsurprisingly, hated all things vampire and Edward Cullen in particular. Between Edward’s brooding, Jacob’s abs and Bella’s classic damsel-in-distress antics that made poor Elena Gilbert seem unremarkable by comparison — the story unfolded with the subtlety of a glitter bomb and reached unprecedented heights of melodrama. Something that helped the tale become a global phenomenon, demonstrating that improbable love stories can indeed shine in their own sparkly “skin-of-a-killer” fashion.

“This has to be the worst piece of literature I’ve ever read in my life.” Those were strong words from a man who spent years and at least six hundred dollars collecting softbacks and hardbacks in every special and limited edition the series offered. Jason Black was an anti-fan who lived to scoff at the literary mediocrities of authors who, after taking one look at their drafts, believed they deserved to be released into the world as actual literature. Such people, often inspired by similar works, spawned their own deranged narratives, subsequently contaminating the sanctity of literature. 

In layman’s terms, Jason was a fervent hater of the highest order. He had a long list of things he despised about the series, yet curiously, re-watching the movies and re-reading the books always found its way to the top of his to-do list every other weekend. But do not get him wrong, not once did he say anything in favour of the series. Jason simply considered it one of those brain-rotting pieces that needed to be experienced to truly appreciate the beauty of classics like Emily Brontë and Jane Austen.

_username_1 : Bruh stfu. You’re probably an unemployed loner with nothing better to do in life than to be a keyboard warrior.  

_username_2 : then idk buddy don’t read it ? It’s not that hard. 

Jason huffed at the screen crossily, his fingers dancing over the keyboard unsure of what to type next. With a sigh, he stretched his arms as if preparing for battle. And a battle it was — being an anti-fan required more dedication, practice and patience than being a regular fan. What he didn’t realize was that he had knocked a water bottle off the table onto the frayed cord of his PC.

He couldn't fathom why people defended it as if their lives depended on it. If he ever met Stephenie Meyer, Jason would have a long talk with her about the plot—or rather, the lack thereof. With the number of plot holes in the books, they could qualify as swiss cheese. The inconsistencies were glaring: if sunlight made them sparkle, wouldn't they still sparkle during the day, just less brilliantly ? How did Jasper and Alice not overhear the phone call despite having super-hearing ? Why did Jasper go ballistic over a papercut when he attended a school where students would get paper cuts and scrapes all the time ? Why were vampires and werewolves the only species to exist ? And why was Bella, or more specifically her blood, so exceptional ? Did she perhaps descend from a line of flavourful blood havers or was it due to her mother's partial albinism ?

Was she special because she was the female lead, or was she the female lead because she was special ? There were so many unanswered questions and half-assed excuses for the events in the story that most explanations came from clever fans trying to make sense of things the author clearly put no effort into planning or thinking through. These questions had plagued him since he first read the series, and the lack of satisfying answers only fueled his irritation. So much so that Jason was embarrassed for the author. Regardless, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was going so he did what any intelligent person would do, i.e., spew hate comments and log off. 

edward_my_bbg : Dumbfuck novel, Dumbfuck author 

And as if on cue, a new notification popped up, dragging him back into the fray. It was another comment, this time mocking his apparent obsession with the series he claimed to hate. Jason’s face flushed with irritation as he furiously typed a retort, but before he could hit send, his screen flickered and went black. 

He looked down and realized the water bottle he had knocked over had short-circuited his PC. With a groan, Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark screen. It seemed the universe had decided to give him a break from his self-imposed battle. His hand fumbled in the dark for the plug only to feel water on the surface. The sharp pain and crackle of electricity were the last things he knew before he plunged headfirst into endless darkness.

[Activation Code:「Dumbfuck Author, Dumbfuck Novel」 ]

[System activated] 

[Pairing command successful]

“What system ?” Jason asked out loud into the void even though he knew that it was most likely a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t expected to receive a reply however he did receive one much to his surprise. 

[Welcome to the system. During the opening of the 「you can you up」system currently in its development phase, we wish to provide you with the best experience. It is our sincere hope that during the process, you will achieve what you have stated: to transform a piece of stupid writing in accordance with your wishes into a high-end, expansive, and classic work. We wish you happiness.]

Jason blinked, trying to make sense of the message. He glanced around the dim room, half-expecting to see some kind of holographic interface or futuristic display but there was nothing. Just the voice in his head and the darkness. “What the hell is this ?” he muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.

[You have been selected to participate in the beta phase of the 「you can you up」 system. Your task is to improve the story you despise, turning it into a masterpiece. All resources and guidance will be provided to you. Do you accept this challenge ?]

Jason hesitated, the situation seemed absurd, yet a part of him was intrigued. As he sat in silence, a thought occurred to him—what if he could actually fix all the plot holes that drove him up a wall ? Maybe this was his chance to prove he could do better. But then, the possibility of all of this being real seemed too slim. How did he get here ? What happened to him after the electric shock? Was he dying, or was he already dead ? "And if I don't accept ?" he asked, uncertainty and fear bleeding into his voice despite his attempt at maintaining his composure. The system responded quickly in the same mechanical tone as before.

[Your connection between your former body and soul was severed before the initiation of the program. If you choose not to accept, you will be returned to your previous reality with no changes made. This opportunity is unique and will not be offered again.]

“Severed from my body ? Wait— doesn’t that mean I’ll die if I don’t accept ?” Jason's question hung in the air, met with nothing but silence from the system. The lack of response only confirmed his fear.

The system's silence was deafening, seemingly pressing him to make a decision. Realizing he had little choice, Jason took a deep breath. “Fine, I accept,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. How bad could it possibly be ? 

[Command acknowledged. Initializing story rewrite mode.]

The void around him began to shift and wrap. Till now he felt as though he was floating with no sensation except the system’s sound. His reality dissolved into swirling colours and Jason felt himself being pulled into a vortex. When the chaos settled, he heard a man’s voice call out to him. Unlike the clinical tone of system, this voice felt comforting and personal. He could feel tender warmth run through him however he couldn’t quite figure out what the voice was saying. 

“Son ? Can you hear me ?” 

“Dad ?” Jason murmured involuntarily, his voice hoarse as if he had just woken up from a long sleep. The gravel in the voice reminded him of the joys of his childhood when his dad was still — wait a second. Who the hell is that ?

His eyes struggled to focus as his eyelids fluttered a few times. Eventually, he was able to make out his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. Unlike the damp ceiling of his old apartment with its peeling plaster and harsh lighting, this one had old glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers. It wasn’t familiar, but it seemed oddly comforting, like he had known it all his life. He slowly turned his head and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a wheelchair beside him with concern clouding his face. The man's russet complexion was lined with wrinkles yet his hair was long and lustrous.

“Where am I ?” 

“You’re at home. You’ve been asleep for so long, it’s alright if you’re confused. Take your time son.” The man he called ‘dad’ answered sincerely.

Jason’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. The familiarity of the room and the comforting presence of the man didn’t align with the reality he remembered. In that moment, everything came back to him—his death, the void, the system, everything. Jason went into what could only be described as psychological shock. His brain went on autopilot.

The man reached out to grab Jason’s hand, but Jason flinched and pulled away. Slivers of hurt flashed in the old man’s eyes as he slowly withdrew his hand. Jason hadn’t meant to react so harshly, but the information dump combined with the influx of sensory input, he was simply too overwhelmed to cope.

“I-I think i need some space. Do you mind ?” Jason spoke each word carefully, then added, “...dad,” feeling strangely guilty for hurting his feelings. The old man nodded slowly and wheeled himself out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Jason jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. "Who the FUCK is this?"

Staring back at him was a boy, fifteen or sixteen, with the same russet skin as the old man and glossy black hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. Recognizing the features, Jason knew this could only be one person.

 [System activation successful ! Binding your role as : Jacob Black]

[System : Booting Up]

Jason, now Jacob Black, stared at his reflection in disbelief. The reality of his situation hit him like a shit ton of bricks. He brought his fist to his mouth and sobbed into it, and here he thought college was devastating. “But I’m Team Edward,” he choked out between sobs. “That’s so fucked up.”

[Thank you for initiating the execution of the system. You are not bound with the account ‘Jacob Black’. All resources and guidance will be provided to you in due time. Initial B points : 100]

Jason—Jacob—felt a rush of confusion and frustration. “Now what the hell are B points ?!” he yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the unfamiliar room. The loudness of his own voice startled him, making him realize just how different everything felt in this new body.

[As the plot progresses, a number of opportunities to gain more points will be available. Please make sure your B points are not lower than 0. Otherwise, the system will automatically impose penalties.]

He stumbled back from the mirror, running a hand through his hair, which was definitely longer and thicker than he remembered. He could feel the strength in his limbs, the vitality of youth coursing through him. Yet, despite the physical vigor, his mind was in turmoil. He had transmigrated into the very novel he hated; the universe always seemed to have a field day when it came to ruining his life. Jacob looked around the room that was littered with the relics of a life he had to now live — a cozy bed with rumpled sheets, a desk cluttered with schoolbooks and posters of motorcycles, bands and scenic landscapes on the walls.

“Um, so is Bella here ?” Jacob asked, scarfing down the bacon his dad made for him. Despite stressing over the role he was supposed to play in the story, he quickly adapted to his new life. He had a family, a house to live in, no worries about finding employment, no bills or taxes, a social life—or at least he assumed he had one—and, most importantly, no backaches. In hindsight, this might not be all that bad.

“Oh, you remember that ? Charlie said she’s arriving in a couple of days,” his dad, Billy, replied. Jacob felt a strange mix of anticipation and relief. Unlike most unfortunate transmigratees, he had no death flags to worry about, so he could sit back and watch Bella and Edward fall in love without “Jacob” interrupting them. Maybe he could even make things easier for Bella by acting like the perfect wingman. Who cared about making a better story anyway ? And once he had seen his OTP together, he could take his ticket out of town after the wedding and never return so that he could avoid the whole Renesmee business because some fates are worse than death.

[WARNING: Your plan is extremely dangerous and constitutes a violation. Please do not attempt it, or the system will impose strict penalties.]

Jacob choked on his water as the sudden warning window popped up in front of him. For a moment, he was so immersed in the domestic comfort of his new life that he almost forgot about the cursed system. His father looked at him with concern.

“Water went down the wrong pipe, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Jacob said awkwardly, trying to reassure his father. So you can read minds now ? He internally taunted the system.

[It is a feature designed to ensure maximum support for the user.]

“That’s bullshit. Also, what do you mean by violation ?” Jacob asked. Does this system really have no respect for privacy ? If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was some kind of Zuckerberg’s meta gimmick.

[You are currently at the beginning stage. OOC function freeze is activated. You must complete the beginning stage before any functions can be unlocked. If you perform any actions against the original ‘Jacob Black’ role before the functions are unfrozen, a certain number of B points will be deducted.]

Given his extensive time spent on the internet, Jacob was well aware of what OOC meant, and he knew it wasn’t a good sign. OOC stood for Out Of Character, referring to actions taken by a role that deviated from how the character was originally written.

“FUCK OFF. I’m an adult. I already finished my degree and Bella is like, a baby. And you can forget the whole Renesmee shit too. Bella belongs with Edward and and I have no intention of pursuing either her or her future daughter. So back off, you creep of a system.”

[WARNING: The system is issuing another alert. If your B points fall below 0, you will incur a penalty, which involves being automatically transported back to your original world.]

“You know, threatening me with death is really getting old,” Jacob stared at the warning message with his anger mounting. It felt like the system was encroaching on every aspect of his new life, imposing rules and restrictions without offering any clarity or real support.

He took a deep breath, trying to push past his irritation. There was no point in arguing with an automated system, especially one that clearly had its own agenda. Jacob decided to focus on what he could control. He needed to immerse himself in his role as Jacob Black and complete the introductory stage without attracting undue attention. The system’s warnings might be annoying, but he couldn’t let them derail his efforts to adapt to his new life.

As he finished his breakfast, Jacob glanced around the house. It was warm and welcoming, albeit a little messy, which was understandable. He and his dad were the only ones living there and according to his dad, he had been inexplicably unconscious for almost a week. Keeping the house tidy wasn't exactly a priority for a man worried sick about his son.

“Thanks for breakfast… Dad,” Jacob said, still not used to the idea of having a father again. There was the whole issue of stealing the real “Jacob” ’s life, dealing with imposter syndrome, and the guilt of replacing the memory of his own father by calling this old man his dad. But that was an existential crisis he chose not to mull over at the moment, especially on the precipice of the story's start. Call him selfish, but he preferred to focus on his blessings.

“I’ll go take a walk. I’ve been asleep for a while, so I need to… uh, stretch my legs,” Jacob said awkwardly, hoping Billy wouldn’t notice anything strange about his behavior.

“Sure thing, son. Also grab some red meat from the store for dinner. A growing kid like you needs that protein. And buy yourself something nice with the leftover money,” Billy replied, taking out his wallet and handing him some cash.

Jacob stared at the man in awe. As a kid who had bounced around the foster system after his dad died, he was used to being scorned and neglected. This might be part of the reason why he had become a social recluse, spending his time bashing bad literature and authors online. To him, Billy Black was the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel.

Jacob took the money, still feeling a bit dazed. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to say, pocketing the cash. The air filling his lungs was much fresher than the pollution-riddled air of the city he used to live in. Nature seemed a lot nicer than he remembered. So, here's a lesson for the kids—don’t wait until you die and get transmigrated into a novel you hate to understand the importance of getting outside and appreciating nature. In short, go touch some fucking grass before it’s too late.

Almost as if by instinct he found himself at La Push beach. He wandered through the familiar yet new surroundings, trying to piece together his plan. If he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the best of it. He thought about the story and mentally reviewed his plan. He would stay under the radar, be friendly but unobtrusive and focus on blending in with the locals. If he played his cards right, he might just manage to navigate this strange new life without getting points deducted by the system’s restrictions.

After strolling along the shore for a while, Jacob found a rock to sit on and watch the ocean. It was a stark contrast to the urban jungle he was accustomed to, this place was serene and almost idyllic.

“Ayo, is that Jacob ? Hey, Jake !” he heard someone call out. A moment later, a boy close to his age ran up to him, followed by one more. “Um, hey guys. How’s it... going ?” Socializing wasn’t one of Jacob’s strong suits; in fact, it was the exact opposite of the skill he had meticulously avoided developing over the years.

“Man, the whole crew was freaking out about you. You were out cold for a week and for no reason !” One thing Jacob appreciated about the system was the introduction tags above each character’s head. The boy speaking was named Quil, his cousin from the Quileute tribe. He knew these interactions were unavoidable, given their significance to his new role in the plot.

“Well, I got better ?” Jacob attempted a witty quip but cringed at how poorly it landed. To his surprise, the two boys just laughed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Stop by Sam’s sometime; he’s been asking about you,” Embry said, giving Jacob a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Wait Sam ? Right of course. Duh. Sam’s place. Got it.” Jacob replied, blinking in confusion for a moment. Sam Uley was the Alpha—or at least the to-be Alpha—of the pack Jacob was supposed to join during New Moon.

[Mild OOC warning]

“Ay man, you feeling okay ?” Embry asked again, noticing Jacob’s hesitation. Jacob froze, Embry Call was the real Jacob’s best friend and if he figured out that Jason wasn’t really Jacob, it would spell massive trouble for him.

Jacob forced a smile. “Uh, yeah. I just—” He quickly tried to think of something. What would Jacob Black say in this situation ? What does he do to feel better ? He racked his brain for answers, knowing he needed to play the part convincingly, at least till he found a way to unfreeze the OOC function.

Go bother Bella ? a small voice suggested. Bella’s not here yet dumbass, another voice countered sharply. After years of social isolation, Jason’s inner dialogue had evolved to the point where he could have entire discussions with himself. No, he wasn’t schizophrenic.

“—I was just going to grab some red meat to chow on and uh y’know, work on my bike,” he finished, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.

Embry and Quil exchanged a knowing look, which made Jacob's anxiety spike only to burst into laughter. “Classic Jake. At this rate, you might end up marrying your bike,” Quil teased and Jacob laughed along, though he desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“Just take it easy, yeah ? We don’t want you passing out on us again. By the way, there's a sale at the store on the other side of town,” Embry squeezed Jacob’s shoulder reassuringly again. The familiarity they seemed to share with him was comforting, even if he felt like an imposter. He knew he had to get up to speed quickly if he wanted to maintain this facade. They soon parted ways and Jacob headed towards the store.

The store lady was overly enthusiastic upon seeing Jacob. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his face or the fact that he was a regular. As Jason, he had always been below average in looks and physique. Whereas, by the virtue of being the second male lead of a popular teenage romance novel, Jacob Black was undeniably attractive. With his deep-set dark eyes, prominent cheekbones, and beautiful long hair, he looked like someone Jason would have envied. Maybe he could try his hand at modeling once the story ended, because there was no way he was putting himself through college again.

And as unpredictable as the weather of Forks was, it began to rain. Normally, Jason would wait it out and then go but now that he as in Jacob’s body, he thought to test his body’s limits. Like c’mon a little drizzle isn’t going to hurt a big strong werewolf alpha-to-be. He stepped out into the rain, feeling the cool droplets on his skin. It was refreshing, almost invigorating. Jacob’s body seemed to handle the cold and wet far better than Jason’s ever did. As he made his way back the store, he noticed people giving him friendly nods and waves. It felt strange to be acknowledged so warmly, a stark contrast to the anonymity he was used to.

At the red light he stopped, waiting for it to turn green. Sure, there were no cars around and he could have just walked, but road rules were no joke. He liked this life too much to risk having it taken away by truck-kun. “Hey system, is double isekai a thing?” he asked. The system didn’t reply, so that was probably a no.

Jacob glanced to his side and saw a person standing under a large black umbrella. A strong sweet scent pricked his nose. How strong does this guy’s cologne have to be to reach me even with the rain ? There was a name tag hovering above the person’s head, but it was obscured by the umbrella, as was his face. One thing he had learned was that only people relevant to the story had name tags over their heads, which meant this person was a character in the story. He looked down at the stranger’s hand—it looked like porcelain.

Jacob felt a sense of foreboding, creeping up his veins. His instincts were on high alert, telling him that this stranger was no ordinary person. The rain began to pour harder, each drop bouncing off the asphalt with increasing intensity.

The person probably noticed Jacob staring and as he did, the umbrella tilted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a pale, almost ethereal face with piercing golden eyes. The moment their gazes met, Jacob was momentarily blinded by a brilliant golden aura radiating from the name tag above the person’s head.

[Edward Cullen]

Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, it had to be Edward. What were the odds of encountering your favorite character on the very first day of your new life ? He felt his knees weaken. Despite the dim lighting and gloomy setting, Edward was undeniably striking. The rain seemed to fall more slowly around him, as if even the weather was reluctant to mar his flawlessness . His tousled bronze hair framed his face perfectly and Jacob felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it. Despite all his criticisms of the novel, Edward had always held a special place in his heart for reasons Jacob couldn’t quite explain.

Damn, this mf looks anemic as hell. Maybe I should feed him. It was a half-serious thought, borne from both concern and his internal struggle to reconcile his feelings towards the character with the reality of his situation.

[OOC WARNING! OOC WARNING!]

[Edward Cullen is your enemy.]

“Fuck off, he’s my babygirl,”Jacob shot a mental retort at the system in exasperation and a streak of protectiveness. The system’s declaration that Edward was an enemy wasn’t misplaced given Jacob’s role in the novel but that didn’t mean it wasn’t at odds with his feelings.

Edward had always been his favorite character, a source of fascination and admiration. This was supposed to be his chance to explore and perhaps even improve upon the narrative, not to be embroiled in conflict with a character he held dear.

Jacob didn't even notice when the light turned green and Edward started walking away, his steps soundless on the wet pavement. Acting on impulse or perhaps some hidden desire, Jacob found himself walking towards Edward and grabbing his elbow, accidentally knocking his umbrella aside. Edward stopped and turned to him as the rain continued to soak them both. His gaze was like a sharp, unyielding beam of light, cutting through the rain. His eyes, an unusual shade of golden amber, held a depth that seemed to pierce directly into Jacob's soul, scrutinizing every hidden corner of his being.

[OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC!]

[EDWARD CULLEN IS YOUR ENEMY]

I’m so stupid — I forgot completely. Jacob and Edward haven’t met yet. Maybe… maybe I can salvage this ? Be a dick and still be nice ? He definitely didn’t want to end up on Edward’s bad side, nor did he want to break the system’s rules. Annoying as it was, the system was what kept him alive. Though he’d never say it out loud, he was terrified at the thought of dying, again. The system’s constant reminders of their supposed enmity were starting to grate on him, but he couldn’t afford to make more mistakes. What was a man to do when every choice seemed fraught with peril ?

Ack — he’s staring. Can he hear my thoughts ? I hope not. He and Bella meet soon, if I remember correctly so— Jacob’s anxiety skyrocketed under the weight of that gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat drumming in his ears. A tight knot of dread twisted in his stomach and whether it was the rain or not, he could feel cold sweat forming on his palms. He needed to say something—anything—that wouldn’t completely derail the plot but also wouldn’t make Edward hate him from the start, even if it was inevitable.

“Oh uh — my bad, dude. I just thought you looked kinda sick so I thought — I mean,” Jacob scrambled for an explanation, forcing a nonchalant tone as he released Edward’s elbow. He felt like a small animal trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, desperately searching for a way to escape unscathed.

“—Uh, here.” He shoved the raw steak he had just bought into Edward’s arms. The system fell silent for a moment, as stunned by his actions as Jacob was. The sound of the rain was almost deafening as awkward silence stretched between them. Edward looked down at the raw steak in his hands, confusion and surprise painting his features.

Without waiting for a reply, Jacob quickly turned on his heel and hurried away, his footsteps splashing through the rain-soaked pavement. “Later ! Get that iron up and be the lady killer you were born to be !” he called over his shoulder. After walking a few metres, he paused briefly and added,“ And seriously lay off the sauvage man !”

As he put more distance between them, Jacob’s thoughts began to spiral. What had he just done ? Did Edward think he was completely nuts ? Or worse, could Edward have read his thoughts and seen through his facade ? Jacob shuddered at the possibility.

[Why did you do that ?]

“I don’t know okay !? I thought it’d help with looking y’know less dead when he meets Bella.” He shrugged. Explaining himself to the system felt pointless considering it was neither his parent nor his babysitter. The system remained silent, as if considering his response, Jacob rolled his eyes.

[OOC ! -20 B points ↓ ↓ ↓]

“Oh come on !”

“Still staring at that bag of steak, Ed ?” The pixie-haired woman leaned over her brother’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Go away, Alice,” Edward muttered, his gaze still locked on the steak as if it held some profound answers of the universe. His fingers occasionally running over the plastic, making the blood inside to squelch against the surface.

“Seriously what’s up with you ?” Alice frowned, dropping the banter. Ever since Edward had returned, he’d been fixated on this bag of steak that suspiciously smelled like wet dog. What was even more peculiar was the fact that she hadn’t had any visions of this event. Normally, Alice caught glimpses of all the interesting things happening with her family throughout the day but she had no clue how Edward had ended up with that steak. And from the look on his face, Edward didn’t look like he was divulging anything either.

“Nothing just… trying to figure someone out.” Edward sighed. Alice was his favorite family member, and he seldom told her off but this was something he couldn’t even make sense of himself. If he told Alice, she’d likely blow the whole thing out of proportion. But despite everything, one question kept lingering in his mind.

Who was that man ?

A.n - should I make this into a series ? If yes please lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist.

[sansaorgana]

— TAMED

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅

WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled

WORD COUNT — 4,230

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

TAMED

“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.

Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.

“Excuse me?” Your father asked.

“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.

“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.

“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.

“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.

“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”

He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.

You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.

“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.

“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”

“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.

“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”

“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.

Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.

You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back. 

When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.

You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.

And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.

“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.

“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.

The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.

“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.

“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.

“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.

“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.

You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.

“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.

You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.

What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.

When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.

One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.

On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.

Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.

“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.

“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.

“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”

“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.

“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.

“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.

“Cats have fur. This one is so…”

“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.

“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.

“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.

Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.

“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”

“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”

“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”

Feyd shot you an angry glance.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.

“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.

“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.

Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.

First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.

But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.

For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.

So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.

“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.

“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.

“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.

“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.

But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.

You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.

You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.

You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.

“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?” 

“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.

“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.

“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.

“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.

“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”

Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.

“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.

“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.

“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.

“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.

You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.

Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears. 

It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.

You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.

“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.

“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.

“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”

“Which one?” You asked, angrily.

“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.

You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…

“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”

“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.

“You hate him,” you reminded him.

“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.

“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”

“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”

“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.

So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.

Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.

“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”

“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.

You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.

“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”

He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.

“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”

But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.

And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.

MASTERLIST

[rapturously]

kickstart my heart.

REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid

“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!

A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.

You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.

Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.

The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.

Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.

A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.

“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”

Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.

With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.

Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”

“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.

A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.

“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.

To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.

His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.

“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.

“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.

Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.

You belonged to him.

With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.

“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.

“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”

Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.

Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.

“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.

“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.

“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.

Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.

By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.

Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.

“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.

“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.

“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.

Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.

Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.

Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.

“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.

You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.

He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.

As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.

Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.

“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.

When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.

“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”

Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.

That’s what this was about?

“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.

For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.

Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.

You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.

Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.

“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.

“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.

A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.

“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.

This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”

“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.

Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.

That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.

“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.

Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.

A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.

Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.

“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.

“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.

With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.

He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.

Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.

You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.

“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”

It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.

He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.

Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.

There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.

Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.

“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.

You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.

Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.

The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.

As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.

With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.

Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.

Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.

He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.

“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”

“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.

He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.

“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.

“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.

Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.

You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.

A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.

There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.

He moaned.

Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.

“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.

“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”

Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.

Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.

With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”

The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.

Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.

“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.

Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.

An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.

“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.

You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.

“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.

It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”

Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.

Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.

He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.

You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.

It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.

“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.

“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.

You would have to thank Marko later.

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

-

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.

2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks

3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.

Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control

I.E.

Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there

When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)

Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.

They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a ‘good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

[bamboobooshark]

yaaaayyy u write 4 him!!!! can we just have some silly Kurt headcanons? they don’t have to be any kind of relationship, i just want fun and whimsy :3

KURT WAGNER • 🌀

Miscellaneous Headcanons || 426 Words || P.G. Rating || Fandom: Marvel (X-Men)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for requesting some Kurt! I’ve never written him, so I’m very thankful you gave me some mercy by letting me write you my headcanons. I’ll try to write some more for him in the future, this was so fun to make!

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CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

NAME CALLING

In my heart, Kurt is always calling everyone his friend, or “mein Freund.” He thinks everyone technically can be his friend as long as they don’t give him a reason to think otherwise. I’m telling you right now, he is a very social person if he feels comfortable with his surroundings. For example, if he goes to a resturant he goes to every week or so, he talks to the staff as if he’s a family friend. However, that has caused some rather awkward conversations and moments for the mutant. At one point, there was a government organization going undercover trying to collect his D.N.A for research, and Kurt ended up trying to befriend them. Thankfully he got out of that situation safely. He later pouted to a few of his fellow mutants about how he genuinely thought he’d end the day making some new friends but was met by enemies instead.

BATH TIME

I AM A LOUD AND PROUD FURRY KURT TRUTHER!!! And of course, being a very active furball due to being a hero, he’s gotta get a good bath every day so he doesn’t stink. Of course he does what almost everyone else does; wash his hody, shampoo, condition, and dry off with a towel. However, he has the guilty pleasure of drying off a little extra using a blow dryer. He loves the warmth, the way the wind pushes his fur to the side and the air can hit his skin directly, and how it makes his fur so soft and shiny. Bonus: If you’re dating Kurt, he will beg you to blow dry him after his showers and baths. He will return the favor however or with whatever you want, I promise.

NIGHT VISION

His hero name is Nightcrawler. His eyes glow in the dark. He can make shadows. There is NO way this guy doesn’t have night vision. Even though he can see in the dark, his pupils still get huge—akin to a cat’s in low light. Because of his night vision, he’s developed a habit of never turning on lights when he sneaks around at night. It’s a bit of a scare for the others in the mansion and/or his partner though when they come to the kitchen to get a snack and see two very thin, yellow rings in the dark. Kurt will just furrow his brows and question them without the awareness that it’s pitch black besides his eyes. “What? Is there something on my face?” “Kurt, I can’t tell. I can’t see anything.” “Oh. My bad, mein Freund!”

[blues824]

Would it be okay for me to drop this request here, for Twisted Wonderland only the Diasomia guys (and staff only if your interested in them) with either an s/o or student who is a dragon rider like in How to Train Your Dragon, like they can be tough like Astrid, but love befriending and learning a lot about dragons?

(Just the thought of Malleus being happy with a Nightfury buddy is just adorable to me, and Lilia wanting to babysit the baby dragons is what mainly motivated this request)

I think I’m just going to do Diasomnia for this one

Gender-neutral reader who is like Astrid, but has Toothless as a dragon.

Malleus Draconia

You had met at Ramshackle, but he noticed that you were wrestling with something. Turns out, you had a dragon, and it sensed another dragon in the premises. He walked up and introduced himself, as he wasn’t aware that someone had taken up residence at Ramshackle. Unfortunately, he startled you, and you unsheathed your axe, ready to attack.

However, Toothless walked over carefully and started sniffing the prince, surprising you. He actually pushed you over and placed his head in the stranger’s lap, tail wagging and everything with a gummy smile to accompany it. Malleus laughed at the whole situation, patting the top of the dragon’s head as he asked if you were alright.

That was the start of a very peculiar friendship and even relationship, though, because your dragon became his best friend. When learning to care for Toothless, he learned about the Island of Berk, which was where you both hailed from. You also said that you aspired to be a great warrior, which he thought was similar to the dreams of a certain green-haired retainer that he had.

Seeing you ride Toothless was the first time he saw a genuine smile on your face. You looked radiant with the wind blowing in your face, doing many different tricks in the air with your dragon. He would actually shift into a dragon himself sometimes and he would fly with you two. The first time you rode him, however, it was so intimate. Your experience as a dragon trainer came in handy a bit, but other than posture, you didn’t really need it. It was free and unrehearsed, but it was fun.

Lilia Vanrouge

Alright, he admits that his introduction was rather abrupt, considering he kind of just popped onto Ramshackle because he heard some dragon noises. Spooking you so that he had the element of surprise, he was not expecting to be held at axe-point as you and your dragon both snarled at him.

Your dragon, who he came to know as ‘Toothless’, started sniffing him and he realized that he was not an enemy. You were not as easily convinced and kept your guard up, but you put the axe away. Lilia is not one to keep a grudge, so he just giggled it off as the dragon rubbed up against him like a cat.

He already had experience with dragons, considering he watched over Malleus while he was just a hatchling. He knew all the soft spots, he knew all the snacks typically required, he even knew cue words. However, he had never ridden a dragon. Seeing you do it so elegantly was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and he wished he could see you that happy every day.

The first time he actually rode Toothless, though, it wasn’t as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Establishing trust first with a rather fishy offering (it was an actual fish), he mounted it, and Toothless got very excited and started prancing about. The old fae was having the time of his life as the spirited dragon glided through the air, maneuvering quickly unlike any other being he’s ever seen.

Silver

Because you had already met Malleus and Lilia, they thought it was time to introduce him to Toothless so that he may be well-versed in every animal. Because a lot of woodland creatures were attracted to his presence, the dragon wasn’t very different. Luckily, you knew that Silver was going to be there, so you didn’t have your guard up. However, you panicked when Sebek freaked out because Toothless went on the defensive.

Anyway, the older knight got along well with your companion, even giving the gummy-smiled reptile a few scratches here and there. That’s when he noticed the axe strapped to your back, and he asked about it. You informed him that you were a viking warrior from an island called ‘Berk’, where dragons had become very common, but Nightfuries were not.

This called for a training session between you and him, as he wanted to see the difference in fighting tactics. What he learned was that while you had a good plan, you were very spontaneous and unpredictable, a strategy he found admirable. You became an official guard of Malleus because you managed to throw his father off as well, and you managed to surprise him with your skill.

As for his first time riding Toothless, he does get why you love it so much. The view of the school from above as well as the wind flowing through his hair made him smile. However, he was not able to stay awake for long due to his condition. Knowing this might happen, he wrapped his arms around your torso so he wouldn’t fall off. The feeling of his arms made you flustered, but you kept your concentration.

Sebek Zigvolt

He was also there to be introduced to Toothless, the only other dragon at NRC aside from Malleus. He was going to scold you for stripping away Waka-sama’s uniqueness, but he was startled by your dragon. You had to help him calm down because he was about to get his ass beat by a disabled dragon.

Once he was stable enough to be introduced, Toothless was still wary of him. Sebek’s face flushed red as you placed your hand on top of his, holding it out so that the oversized lizard could meet him halfway. The smile on the knight’s face when he felt the dragon’s nose was beaming bright, showing you the man’s fangs.

Sebek also noticed your axe, and he definitely inquired about it, making sure you were going to be no harm to Malleus. You explained that you were a viking warrior back in your world, and that you fought to die in battle, as was the viking way to get to Valhalla. As a knight himself, he found that respectable, and even offered to help you train so that your skills wouldn’t get rusty. However, that training session ended in you even getting the best of Lilia, meaning you became a guard that day.

When he rides Toothless for the first time, he is nervous that he is going to mess everything up and manage to get you hurt in the process. However, you shut him up with a kiss to the cheek as you mounted the Nightfury, tapping the seat behind you. He mounted as well, face painted red, as you took to the sky.

[simsdaughters]

GOTH LEGACY CHALLENGE

Making this for myself and any of you guys who wanna tag along to this little experiment with me!

The goal of this challenge is simple: get to 10 generations, with each one representing a different goth subculture and fashion, starting with the Goth family. I hope that through this, you guys can see the love I have for the goth culture :)

For extra drama: none of the Goths of the main family line may die of old age.

RULES PER GENERATION BELOW:

GEN 1: Aristocrat Goth

The founders of the Goth legacy, their aristocratic air lends credence to their importance. Drawing from historical periods such as the Victorian and Edwardian eras, this subgenre of goth fashion features tailor suits, cravats, waistcoats, corsets and hats.

Master the piano and violin skills.

Reach 500,000 simoleons in savings.

Master the business career.

Make enemies with at least one Landgraab.

GEN 2: Witchy Goth

Drawing inspiration from their parents' lifestyle and beliefs, Cassandra and Alexander adopt a more spiritual approach to the goth aesthetic. This fashion subgenre is characterized by esoteric and spiritual elements in the outfit, such as moons, stars, skulls and maybe black cats if you want to be on the nose with it, while the cultural approach to it is inspired mainly by, of course, witchcraft.

Become a spellcaster.

Master the medium skill.

Learn all potions.

Reach lvl 5 in the gemology skill.

GEN 3: Traditional Goth

The "original" goths, who find their roots in gothic rock born in the post-punk era, the traditional goths are what you first think of when you hear the word goth: ripped, black clothes, dark makeup and wild hair. As a punk offshoot, traditional goths prioritize self-expression, individuality and challenging traditions.

Join any artistic career, and reach lvl 5 in it.

Master the guitar skill.

Volunteer at least once a week.

Befriend any occult.

GEN 4: NU Goth

A slightly controversial subgenre in the goth culture, NU or "new" goth is a more modern approach to the goth genre. More lenient in their view of what "makes" a goth, they are known to be more welcoming to mall goths and baby bats than trad goths (though that does not mean traditional goths are hostile to the two, simply that there is a prominent debate in the goth scene on what consists "a true goth"). This fashion type is what you'd probably find on pinterest or tiktok, with the more current fashion trends influencing the style.

Sell at least 5 thrifted outfits.

Join the social media career.

Film fashion tutorials at least once a week. (Get Famous)

Have at least 500 followers on any social media.

GEN 5: Cyber Goth

The cybergoth subculture and fashion mixes industrial, 2000s and rave aesthetics in one, featuring leather, neon colors, futuristic looks and a love for electronic music. They embrace philosophical discussions and imaginations of a dystopic information society future.

Master the DJing skill.

Reach lvl 5 in the dancing skill.

Go clubbing at least once a week.

Master the programming or robotics skill.

GEN 6: Pastel Goth

Mixing the kawaii aesthetic with gothic ideals and themes, pastel goth makes it's mark by ... well, being pastel. Often seen dipping into lolita or fairy kei fashion, this style can accessorize with sometimes cutesy details. This style is more focused on the fashion and aesthetics of the gothic look rather than the music, and on having fun with their self-expression.

Have an all-pastel home !

Join the Style Influencer career.

Make 5 friends.

Thrift clothes at least once.

GEN 7: Romantic Goth

As expected, romantic goth subculture focuses on romanticizing death, the macabre and the dark. They find beauty and appreciation in things like withered roses, skulls and more. Their fashion is characterized by flowy, ethereal silhouettes, and a feminine touch to their outfits. Its the embrace of beauty.

Have a gothic wedding ceremony.

Master the writing skill.

Have a cemetery.

Romance a vampire at least once.

GEN 8: White Goth

The white goths reverse the traditionally dark and ... well, black palette of the gothic genre for white, and other such colors you shouldn't wear at a wedding. Their clothing taste often includes silks, ethereal garments, ornate jewelry and parasols.

Master the organ skill.

Master the painting skill.

Serenade someone at least once.

Wear white at a wedding.

GEN 9: Victorian Goth

The Victorian Goth subculture pays homage to the elegance and refinement of the 19th century. Their fashion sense borrows from the Victorian era, with silhouettes evocative of the era, top hats, lace and corsets. They mix the aesthetic of a bygone era with the ideologies of all goths, that of individualism and self-expression through art and fashion.

Do not own any electronics, lights included.

Master the writing skill.

Own at least one horse, and travel to lots with it.

Paint at least 20 paintings.

GEN 10: Vampire Goth

Inspired by vampire lore and horror, the vampire goth fashion scene includes elegant, intricate designs, corsets, capes, vampire fangs (real or otherwise) and bloody, macabre themes. Like the romantic goths, they find beauty and allure in the dead and the deadly, and would probably love owning a fainting couch.

Master the charisma skill.

Master the vampire lore skill.

Turn at least 5 sims into vampires.

Become a Master Vampire.

[original-art-stories]

Merlin Fanfic list>>>

For Want of a Nail by OhThereBigBadWolf. I feel like this is a BAMF! Merlin, though it isn't tagged as such. Either way, it's still a good fic. "Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of old friends. That's all it takes to untangle the skeins of destiny and weave a new tapestry."

I suppose that I look different (Without the robes and crown) by WingedWolf21. "When Arthur blows the horn of Cathbdhah for the second time, the horn doesn’t just send Uther to the other world. It sends Arthur away as well – to a world where Ygraine never died, the Great Purge never happened, and magic lives freely at court. As do those who practice it."

Stars Above, Stones Below By Destina. "After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he's ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation. As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew could change in a single year."

Give the Dragon a Chilli by Supercalvin. Modern with Magic. "Aithusa might have been no bigger than a house cat but she was still a dragon. That meant wings, claws, and her hoard, which in Aithusa’s case included soft pillows, fluffy socks, and much to Merlin’s chagrin, stolen pants. When Merlin found out that his winged ward had stolen a rather considerable pile of clothing for her hoard, he thought that it would be the end of any kind of friendship with his neighbor. But when Merlin met the victim of Aithusa’s burglary, he was pleasantly surprised to find Arthur, a man who had never in his life seen a dragon let alone a burglarizing one, and Cavall, a curious German Shepherd puppy who was quick to befriend the little white dragon. From there, it was only the beginning."

The Student Prince by FayJay. Very famous this one, you probably know it already. Modern with Magic, BAMF!Merlin and Reincarnation. "A Modern-day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love..."

Dew Point by kinase. Modern with magic, BAMF! Merlin "Arthur Pendragon is as popular and successful as a sixth former can be. He hasn’t quite figured out his future yet, but it’s going to be brilliant, he’s certain. At least until some daring stranger on a cool motorcycle topples his world upside down on the first day of school. Modern magical AU".

The Wall of Arthur by supercalvin. ModernAU has no magic, but this is just adorable, I love it. "In a surprisingly good David Attenborough impression, Gwaine said, “Here you see the remarkable mating ritual of the Merlin and the Arthur. Which involves mostly insults and swearing.”

Or: How Merlin and Arthur Met and Why There is a Restroom Wall Dedicated to Arthur’s Ass"

In Love With My Radio by lunchee. ModernAU is funny and sweet. Good fic. "Merlin listens to the radio, Arthur stalks Merlin, Morgana lives to create chaos in Arthur's life, and then everyone goes to McDonalds! Also, love happens.

From the km prompt: Arthur has an anonymous blog/LJ/twitter where he posts about his life, and Merlin follows it RELIGIOUSLY. Arthur starts posting about how he's stalking this amazingly hot guy.

My Significant Bother

Merlin's job as PR junior on the royal account isn't as glamorous as people believe: Most nights, he's saving Arthur, Duke of York and black sheep of the family, from possibly committing monarchy-shattering shenanigans. When tragedy hits and Arthur is now second in line to the throne, the public doesn't react too favorably to the new Prince of Wales.

A solution has to be found and Merlin's contribution is key to the problem: Roped into posing as Arthur's fake boyfriend, he's supposed to make Arthur's popularity levels rise with his steadfast and relatable presence and elevate him from scandalous rake to romantic figure...

For Without You I Am Lost

What if… Throughout the centuries, the magic in Merlin grew? Like, every sorcerer/witch and so on has a limit for growth, yeah? Some level that they reach and that’s it. No more power for you. But Merlin /doesn’t/ since he’s not /with/ magic but instead /is/ magic. So. Like. It grew with him and he learned more and more but he’s all alone, right? Has no Anchor. So he’s doing all he can, spreading the knowledge, educating people on and about magic and for a while it works. Magic is accepted, taught, even revered all over the world. The world prospers. Peace and harmony grows. Yeah, sure, there’s baddies from time to time but in general all is well yeah?

But… All this power that keeps on growing inside. What if it… Starts corrupting him? Like. Unintentionally, bit by bit. He doesn’t even notice that some of his decisions sHOuLd seem… Wrong, maybe..? But.. Power grows and grows and morality blurs for him. After all, he’s all alone. He has no one there for him. He’s always there for the EntiRe PoPulaTion of the WoRLd, but HE’S alone.

So what if… Arthur returns because Albion’s greatest need is to be saved… From Merlin..?

We Begin Again (Series)

*** Absolute fave. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read this series, especially the first two books ***

For many long years Merlin waited.

For the other part of his soul, for the other half of his life. He was born to serve Arthur. So that meant he was also born to wait. Even if it took a thousand years. Even if the wait seemed never to end.

Until one day, suddenly, it did.

When Arthur stumbles from the Lake of Avalon 1,500 years after his death, he finds a world unlike the one he knew. Faced with the loss of everyone he loved, and the threat of impending prophecy, Arthur must learn what it means to be not just a king, but the Once and Future King. Merlin does all he can to guide him, even as he struggles to hide his love for his king, and his fear of losing him again.

Story includes sass, banter, horseplay, & True Love.

In For Keeps

Merlin and Prince Arthur have been in a relationship for a while, unbeknownst to others. Arthur is ready to take the next step and make them official, but Merlin isn’t yet. The restrictions on his life and the mere idea of the lack of privacy seem too much for him to bear.

Separated over Christmas, overworked and overwrought, an accident befalls Arthur.

Cue a worried Merlin racing overnight on a trouble-ridden trip to Scotland on Christmas Eve.

Well, the course of true love never runs smooth...

*** I swear I’ve read these a million times ***

The Pact

The ancient Albion Pact demands that the Prince of Wales must take someone magic born as his soul-bonded consort by the time he is 30 or face death. Before he was a Detective Inspector Warlock, Merlin Emrys was young and in love and made a promise to Prince Arthur -- and now Arthur is calling it in.

The Lonely King

The Prince of Wales at his school. Merlin was sure it was all just a very bad joke. A modern royalty AU.

There Are No Gays In Football

When a deeply-closeted Arthur Pendragon finally earns a spot in Camelot's first XI, he's dead set on breaking records, not one of sport's last taboos. But life, like football, is a funny old game, and sometimes the only way up is out. Especially once he realizes he's arse over tit for the new physio.

A queer Arthurian tale of courage, love, and football.

The Difference of You

It’s not that Arthur Pendragon can’t get girls to fall for him; it’s just that he can’t seem to keep them around. Relationships and Arthur aren't on the same page at all, really, but one day there's Merlin on a bus and then it's different.

But it’s a Good Refrain

Arthur doesn't care much about the popular radio program Dragon's Lonely Hearts until his ex-girlfriend calls in to slag him off and get advice. When he calls in and has an on-air argument with the host, it starts off more than he expected, including meddling friends, over involved fans, and maybe love.

No Matter How Far Away You Roam

“I was wondering if you might come home with me.” Merlin stops mid-rant and stares at him, and then down at his panini again, and back at Arthur. This is a panini of lies and pain. He can tell already.

“For Christmas? I’ve got an uncle and a mother and a sister waiting for me at home, in case you hadn’t remembered, I’m not going home with you just because you’re a workaholic.”

“No, it’s. My mum might be under the impression that we’re a little bit married.”

In which Merlin gets conned into spending Christmas with Arthur's family and pretending to be his husband, because somehow this is his life

Magic Reveal

What I’d have done

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013721/chapters/11522743

It’s set around season 3. It’s mostly Arthur centric and it’s really good. It’s not out of character at all and is a realistic depiction of what could have happened in cannon

These are my bookmarked favorites! I love these magic reveals!

In relief:

The Map of Honor:

By the Sword:

Dying to Return

Turn of the Tide:

 I tried to keep it plot heavy. Most are Arthur/Merlin, but a couple isn't.

Family Tree - Fic starts after defeating Cenred's forces and an army of the dead in the siege during the Tears of Uther Pendragon

Without Song - In which Arthur is envoy to a grieving family, and Merlin rides with him.

So Are They All, All Honourable Men - Merlin gets into a fight with a knight

I've come Too Far To See The End - Morgana finds out Merlin is Emrys.

Onfindan - The aftermath of Athur finding out

The Perfect Scry - Arthur finds out Merlin has magic and Merlin doesn't know he has magic. So Arthur does what any BFF would do: everything he can to keep Merlin from finding out he has magic so he don't freak out.

After Ealdor - There’s a fine line between good and evil, and Merlin wonders if he’s crossed it

Pendragon Red - Camelot is overrun by sorcerers, Uther is dead, and Arthur wonders what the sorcerer want him and Merlin so much for.

They Call Him Emrys - Bring Emrys to the Dark Tower, Morgana demands. Or Gwen will die. Canon AU that diverges in mid S5.

The Best-Laid Plans - A group of mercenaries pose as Knights of Camelot after the disaster of Agravaine and the dragon. They run into Arthur and his Knights.

The Immortal’s Encore series

Believing that he has long since failed in his destiny, an immortal Merlin decides the only way to make things right is to break the barriers of time, rewrite history, and correct his mistakes. Unfortunately, such a task is not so simple in practice. The threads of time are a slippery opponent, and people are not easily made pawns in destiny's game. And perhaps the greatest threat of them all? Merlin himself. A millenium has left him greatly changed. Is he still the man that destiny chose, or will Merlin's return only bring a new doom to Camelot with it?

Not very well known. This is one of the best fanfics I ever read. I’ve checked so many of the classics and most of the most commented, most bookmarked ones, with the most kudos. I’ve accidentally stumbled on this one and since that day I am completely obsessed with it. The best BAMF Merlin I ever read, the writing style is impeccable, the plot is smart and well planned and thought through, characterisations are on point, the consequences are realistic and so complex. I cannot recommend this enough. There are 4 works in the story so far and it’s WIP, but the writer is very productive and disciplined, the updates are happening once or twice a week.

Lay Your Head on The Shoulder of a Good Friend

With Camelot readying for the upcoming gathering of rulers of the Southern Kingdoms to discuss peace, Uther has tasked Arthur with an additional duty: befriend the Prince of Essetir and learn anything he can of King Balinor, and of magic, and of dragons, that might be of interest should the treaty not succeed.

That's easier said than done, as he and Prince Merlin don't exactly hit it off immediately. But, befriending Merlin and learning of magic and life in Essetir leads Arthur down the paths of discovering long held secrets surrounding his own birth, and his mother's ill health, and his father's hatred of all things magic.

Adding even more complications to the mix are rowdy knights, frustrating princesses, a possible traitor in their midst, and an overly-verbose dragon; not to mention the burgeoning and peculiar feelings for his fellow prince that Arthur struggles to put a name to.

I love this fanfic. It’s written by Skitz_phenom, not very well known, but this author is amazing. Incredible BAMF Merlin, Arthur & Merlin are so very well written, she/he written one of the best sexiest and steamiest scenes in Merthur fanfic world. The story is great and touches your heart. Completed.

If you will enjoy this, I highly recommend checking their other works.

N16 writes great magic reveal fanfics (not just)

There are 24 works written by this author. I haven’t read them all, but the ones I’ve checked are great. The theme of so many of N16 fanfic stories is the reveal.

To Kill a Nightmare is one of those. It include BAMF Merlin tag as well. Once again, if you enjoy it, check the other works of this talented author.

These are various lists from different individuals that I saved in a document some time ago.I need to free up space on my computer… However, I'm hesitant to delete them. I'm not familiar with all the blogs mentioned; if you recognize any, please inform me!

[callme-holly]

Hiiii, could you do the Outsiders x reader who's obsessed with cats? Like, she's always petting random stray cats she sees and is begging to take them home. And I love your writing! 😊😊

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: I'm getting back into the flow now, y'all. Please keep sending in requests!

Darry Curtis:

Darry doesn’t mind cats; he’s never really had a strong opinion on them; they’re just sort of existing, you know? It isn’t until he meets you that he starts paying more attention to them. He’ll stop and watch you fondly as he pets random cats in the street, and he won't complain when you bring them over to say hello to them. He isn’t against having a cat, but he isn’t sure he can handle having one in the house with their current financial situation, so he’s pretty firm when it comes to you bringing strays back home. “No way. We can’t afford it right now.”  Maybe one day, when money isn’t so tight, he might relent and get you a cat, but don’t hold him to it. 

Sodapop Curtis:

Soda fully supports your love for cats and will stop with you on the street to greet every single stray. He’s the type to pick up little kittens and hand them to you, just to see you smile. He’s always up for trying to convince Darry to let you keep one and will occasionally sneak one in to surprise you, hiding it away from Darry and feeding it scraps from dinner. If you were to get a cat, he’d probably choose a stupid name for it and insist on carrying it around like a baby. 

Ponyboy Curtis:

Pony understands your fondness for cats; they’re quiet, independent, and make pretty good company. He often stops with you, watching as you pet the strays, and might occasionally get down to fuss over one himself, scratching their chin and ears. Sometimes, he’ll sit in the lot with you, sketching the cats and gifting the drawings to you. If you beg him to take one home, he’ll be pretty reluctant, not wanting to face Darry with the question. So instead, he compromises, telling you that you can go out and feed them, and that they can stay in the backyard in the shed. 

Johnny Cade:

Much like you, Johnny is naturally drawn to the strays, mostly from how much he hangs around the lot. He’s probably befriended his fair share of cats from all the nights he’s spent there and has no trouble going to visit them with you. He’ll gladly feed them and fuss over them, letting them rub around him and paw at his jeans. He loves how gentle you are with animals and admires how much you love them. He starts bringing treats in his back pocket for them, just in case you find a new cat to befriend.  If there’s a cat you’re particularly drawn to, he’ll help you make a little shelter for it and will go with you to feed it every day. 

Dallas Winston: Dally isn’t particularly fond of cats and would much rather ignore them than fuss over them. He’ll constantly tease you for fawning over the strays, but secretly he probably thinks it’s a little sweet. He’ll act too cool to care, but the more he hangs around with you (and the cats), the more he finds himself absentmindedly tossing them scraps of food. He might even surprise you by bringing you a tiny, scruffy kitten he’d rescued from a rough situation, tossing it into your lap like it’s no big deal. He refuses to take care of it though; the feeding and other shit is all down to you, and no way in hell is it allowed to sit in his lap.

Steve Randle:

Steve thinks your obsession with cats is amusing and never fails to make little jabs and jokes about it, calling you the “cat whisperer.” But, deep down, he loves the strays just as much as you and will do as much as he can to keep them safe. If you beg him to take one home, he’ll relent after a while, creating a little bed/crate for it that stays in the garage of the DX. The cat soon becomes one of those pets that hangs around constantly, sitting on top of the cars he’s working on and lounging on the backseat of his car whenever he leaves the door open.

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two totally understands your love for the cats. If the two of you are out together, he’s showing you all the cats and befriending them right alongside you. He’ll crouch down and call out to the strays, petting them and scratching under their chin. He’s probably the first to suggest sneaking a cat home, wrapping it up in his jacket, and carrying it along like a little baby. If a cat likes him more than you, he will rub it in and make your life hell over it.