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bratbarzal · 8 days ago

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Let It Happen (LH43) 3/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

>PART ONE< / >PART TWO<

I'll spare you from everything, if you would still have me, I'll be waiting all my life

General Warnings: pining and longing and fluff galore!!! I think maybe sexual references but who remembers atp. angst (slut shaming, mentions of past relationships and I can't think of a better way to say daddy issues we've all been there)

A/N: we did it, Joe!!!! desktop tumblr really didn't want this to happen!!! I can't believe I finished this!! thank you guys so much for reading, and liking, and messaging me and reblogging and all the commentary, and all the love!!! I appreciate it so much!!

if there is a crossover of readers of on your side and readers of this fic (first of all ily) there is a little oys easter egg in here!! did I think through the logistics of this being set in the same universe? no. did I have fun anyway? yes. I fell in love with writing Luke in that fic so it was only right for me to add it in here!!

Happy New Year to everyone, thank you for reading my work!! 2024 was the year I finally plucked up the courage to write all my random thoughts down and the fact that it spiralled into this blows my mind a bit, but I'm grateful to be here!!

You can distinctly remember the first time you had properly taken notice of Luke Hughes, and it wasn’t back in the restaurant at the club like he probably thinks.

It had been early November, in your freshman year.

Ellie had finally convinced you to join her at one of the games at Yost, and you were bundled up in a coat two sizes too big, the only thing you had remotely close to team colours, and the only thing likely to keep you warm enough to tolerate a whole game and warm-ups.

You were watching the boys skate around, and he had caught your eye in an instant.

“Who’s that one?” You had asked, pointing down to where number 43 was reaching out awkwardly to sweep up pucks with his stick. You could see the soft brown curls peaking out the back of his helmet from all the way in the stands, and his height made it unmistakable to realise that you recognised him.

He had come up to you at a Halloween party the week before, and if you hadn’t been so preoccupied by the fact that your only-just-ex boyfriend at the time was in the same room, his tongue down another girl’s throat, you might have been endeared by the boy in the dog costume.

Friendly smile, boyishly handsome features and warm eyes that under any other circumstances might have made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t the first time you had seen him - you vaguely remembered the gift basket, and you knew he was in a couple of your classes, but you had never really spared him more than a fleeting glance before that party.

As soon as he had noticed your teary eyes upon approach, his demeanour had changed in an instant, and where anyone else might have backed off, might have been uncomfortable or deterred, done a u-turn and given up on his mission to approach, his expression had softened - worried and caring in a way that made your throat go dry, and you had to dash off to the nearest bathroom to splash your tears away.

“That’s Luke,” Ellie had told you, “Luke Hughes, Jack’s brother.”

“Oh,” You had pouted, disappointed. Jack had made it painfully obvious that he wasn’t your biggest fan the first time you had met him, and if you’re honest, you were hardly a great admirer of his, either.

Ellie had noticed your expression, had nudged you with her elbow until you took your eyes off of the figure on the ice, and had narrowed her eyes right at you. “Why?”

“He’s in a couple of my classes, is all,” you shrugged, eyes travelling back and finding him in an instant.

“Luke’s cool. You’d eat him alive, though, probably get bored within a week.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him like that,” you frowned, watching him skate around the ice with the grace and enthusiasm of a clumsy puppy dog. Cute. “Just curious.”

“He’s waaaay too nice for you,” she scoffed, and you had tried to swallow down the pang of offence you had felt, knowing she had very little of your past to compare him to. The two of you had only been roommates for a couple of months at that point, and she had only ever seen you interested in your ex. “He’s also kind of a like a little brother to me. Dorky and annoying, but I’m very protective of him.”

You had bit your tongue at how patronising that had sounded, knowing Ellie was one of the youngest people of your freshman class - a July baby - and Luke might even have been older than her.

“Like I said, just curious.”

You had noticed Luke a lot more after that, though.

A quiet, recurring presence.

A seat behind you in business comms, a figure against the wall in the corner of the room at different parties, on posters that lined the walls and the perimeter of Yost Arena, in articles you edited for extra credit in the Michigan Daily.

You had even made small efforts to get him to talk to you - never being the type to make the first move, yourself - started talking to his friends, some of the guys on the hockey team, had made sure his name was on the list for your sorority parties, you’d even dropped your pen once in class, and he’d just handed it back over with a soft smile, never uttering a word.

You wouldn’t call it a crush, but it was somewhere around the borderline of that - especially looking back after the summer you shared with him.

And you think, in retrospect, that if he’d have ever made a move, would have spoken to you even just once after the incident at the Halloween party, you probably would have developed one.

You hate to admit it, now, but he had been right all those weeks ago in the restaurant.

He’s kind of inevitable like that.

By the time he disappeared in your sophomore year that little spark of something had mostly fizzled out, but it didn’t entirely stop you unintentionally keeping tabs. Stats that cropped up on the sports channels, articles in the paper, posts on your instagram feed.

And you don’t know what you would call it, the way he kind of stuck with you, but when you’d seen him in that booth in the beginning of summer - when he’d spoken to you in full sentences, had met your eye and held contact in a way that sucked you in like a vacuum - you kind of felt that spark reignite.

The boy you almost, kind of, could have known, once upon a time, finally making the effort to get to know you.

And Luke Hughes is persistent. You have a detached admiration for just how much. He pushes, and he presses, and he perseveres until all your resolve is gone - resolve you’ve spent years mastering, with quick wit and snark protecting your heart from anyone who dares to take aim for it.

But that detachment is waining.

Especially as you lay on your front on your childhood bed, the NHL awards playing on the TV in your room back at your mom’s house, and you try to busy your hands with the crotchet kit you had picked up from the mall before you came home for a couple of days.

Your admiration is blooming and blossoming in the depths of your stomach into something intricate and uncontrollable.

And it has nothing to do with his name, his career, the award he is nominated for.

It’s just him.

Larger than life on your TV screen, but it still doesn’t capture him in his entirety, and you think for the first time that you miss him. You miss movies in his bed, you miss watching him from the passenger seat of his BMW, the sun shining from the window beside him, illuminating his profile until you burn from the glare. You miss his stupid jokes and his teasing smiles, and you miss the warmth in your cheeks when he looks your way.

And it’s only been like 2 days.

You miss Luke Hughes.

You kind of think you missed him before he even left.

You might have even missed him before you knew him, but that would be crazy, right?

Maybe he makes you crazy.

Maybe you need this week to recuperate, to attempt to build those walls back up before they’re damaged beyond repair.

Luke hadn’t given much thought to missing you before he and his brothers left for Vegas. He’d been so caught up, internally, about his and Quinn’s nominations, that he had thought it would continue to distract him the whole time they had been out there, but boy was he wrong.

All he remembers about his trip is thinking of you, and when the boys got back, and you had been visiting your mom for the weekend, all he could do was think of you more.

He thought of you when they sat at the table for dinner, and your place across from his was empty. He thought of you when he watched movies alone, thought of texting you some sort of commentary as he worked his way through the list of rom-coms you had given him, but you hadn’t texted him yet, so he gave up quickly on that idea.

He thought of you in bed, thought of the last time the two of you had been in there, together, and if he’s honest, he thinks of that almost all the time. Of messy kisses, wandering hands, and connection so deep he doesn’t think it will ever fizzle out.

And when he finally sees you again, he thinks he might have to get Quinn to source some sort of defibrillator for the house, because he swears his heart stops beating.

You poke your head into his bedroom, a shy smile on your face, and your bag is still on your shoulder, which means he had been your first stop, before you’d even gone to drop your things in yours and Ellie’s room.

He sees you in the reflection of his mirror, and turns immediately, clumsy fingers releasing the tie he’s been struggling to get right for a couple minutes, and steps toward you before he can even begin to tell himself not to seem so eager.

“You’re back!” He grins, and when your face lights up in return, he can hardly find it in himself to care anymore how down bad he comes across.

“Yeah,” you breathe, stepping into the room, discarding your bag by the door and shuffling toward him. “You didn’t have get all dolled up for my return.”

You reach to take both sides of the tie into your hands, and he feels himself go warm all over at the mere proximity of you after so long apart.

“It’s my cousin’s wedding,” he tells you as you start to knot the tie, knuckles brushing slightly across his chest until he’s holding his breath, lungs expanding so that he feels your touch a little more. “They’re having their reception at the club, later, you should come down.”

“You’re asking me to your cousin’s wedding?”

“Not like that,” he chuckles nervously as he looks down at you, eyes focused on the task at hand. “Just, haven’t seen you in a week, wouldn’t want to leave you here alone, it could be fun.”

Not to mention the fact he’s been watching the door for the past two days while he’s been home, waiting for you to get back and hoping it would be before the event, and he could figure out some way to ask you.

“You can’t just invite a random person to your cousin’s wedding reception, Luke.”

“She said I could!” He reasons, frowning when you raise a brow at him. “Not a random person, she said I could bring a friend.” He grasps gently at your hands as they straighten the fabric, halting your movements. “We’re friends, right?”

“If you say so.”

That wasn’t a no, he thinks, courage building within him in such a way that he starts to buzz with it. That would definitely have been a flat out no, before.

“You’d be doing me a favour.” He bargains, still holding your hands against his chest. “Quinn and Jack are bringing Josh and Turcs, I’d be like a fifth wheel,”

“So what you’re telling me is that you have no other friends?”

“Sure, if that’s what tugs at your heartstrings.” He has plenty of friends he could ask. Eddy, Duker, Luca - they’re all in town. None of them would look as pretty in a dress as you would, though. He wants to say there’s no chance of any of them kissing him after a few cocktails, but that would probably be a lie. “C’mon, they’re not gonna be checking IDs at the bar,” he wiggles his eyebrows in an attempt to convince you, “The free bar.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding,”

“What about that blue dress you wore to the formal last year?”

He remembers his throat going dry at just a picture - frosty baby blue silk against glowing skin, hair falling past your shoulders, the prettiest smile he’s ever seen in every photo.

And that is where misplaced courage gets him, he thinks. Letting slip that he has been creeping on your Instagram like some deranged stalker, because where else would he have seen you in that dress? He’d been in Jersey, by then. Scrolling down his timeline and swiping at every photo dump in what he didn’t even realise at the time was an obvious attempt to catch a glimpse of you.

Idiot.

“That was Ellie’s dress. I think she gave it to the Goodwill or something.” You frown, barely even picking up on his slip - unaware to the point that his heart rate can level back out to normalcy.

“You’ve got time to go shopping, you could get another,” he shrugs, reaching into the pocket of his pants. “Here, take my card.”

“Gee, thanks, Daddy Warbucks,” you push at his hand when he attempts to give it to you.

“I’m not adopting you. I’m more like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.”

“Are you implying I’m a prostitute?”

“No,” he scoffs, only because, unintentionally, he totally was, and now he can’t get the picture out of his head - you in thigh high boots, legs for days stood out of the blue skirt, and the white top with the cutouts, soft summer skin he’s been missing the touch of peaking through - and he starts to wonder if that would be too much too soon to ask of you; to dress up for him like that. Maybe for halloween, if the two of you have progressed past whatever this is, by then. Keep dreaming, Hughes, he can already hear you saying. “More like a sugar baby.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“I’m trying to do something nice for you.”

“You don’t have to buy me things for me to like you.” You pout, and his own lips curl up at your defensiveness - so eager to prove yourself to him over something he isn’t even actually pressing.

“Because you like me already?” He can’t help himself, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to push, push, push at your buttons until you practically malfunction - craving you in whatever disoriented state it was that he had seen you in last, pliant and willing and crumbling so nicely for him to scoop up and piece back together. “Because you missed me?”

He shouldn’t want that - want to have to hold you in place, that is, not really - but he does. He wants to be the one that gets you like that. The only one.

“What time’s the reception?”

That should also have been a flat out no.

Interesting.

You give in so easily, then, to the point where Luke gets giddy, letting you know when and where he wants you - always and anywhere, if he’s honest - and you roll your eyes as you agree, but you stay right in front of him long after you’ve finished with his tie, and he’s so tempted to kiss you that he’s buzzing with excitement.

He sneaks a kiss to the corner of your mouth - quick enough that you don’t push him away, or make any sort of comment about it, and darts down the stairs at Quinn’s calls for him, leaving you to figure out whatever it is you need to do to be ready for later.

And he thanks his lucky stars that later comes before he has the chance to really dwell on it. His day passes in a blur, the ceremony over in a flash, family photos taken before he even realises he doesn’t need to force a cheesy smile, and only brief moments spared over the course of the early afternoon to think about the things he’s lacking.

As he sits in the church between his brothers, he realises that he wants to be sitting with an arm slung around you and a hand in your lap - your fingers swirling absentminded shapes into his palm as the two of you watch the ceremony side by side. Wants to look down at you staring up the aisle in bewilderment, a soft flush to your cheeks, a dopey grin on your face and a far-off look in your eyes. Wants to mutter stupid jokes in your ear and watch you twist your lips to bite back a giveaway smile.

As he rides over to the club in the back of Quinn’s car, sandwiched between Alex and Josh with his brothers up front, he thinks he’d kill to have you in his lap - as illegal as that may be, but it’s only 5 minutes, and he’d make sure you were safe with an arm curled around your waist.

And when he’s waiting in the reception hall at the club, the late afternoon ticking into early evening, hearing speeches about falling in love and finding your person, he wants you in the seat beside him. Wants to rest his arm on the back of your chair, play with loose strands of your hair or stroke soft fingertips against your warm skin, and press gentle kisses into your temple.

It’s alarming how quick these thoughts consume him - his college years spent pining, his summer spent basking in whatever attention you choose to give him - and he can’t help but let himself be carried away with the hope of it all, that maybe he is wearing you down enough to give in to such thoughts.

Especially when he sees you walking in, and he swears the world has started moving in slow motion like a scene fresh out of one of those rom-coms you keep trying to subject him to.

His legs stretch without any instruction from his brain, pushing himself up onto his feet until he can make his way over and meet you halfway.

Your eyes light up and your hand lifts in a nervous wave as you start heading straight for him, the action causing the thin spaghetti strap of your dress to fall down your shoulder.

“Hey,” he breathes out, in what feels like relief, mouth breaking out into a dreamy grin until you’re right in front of him.

“Sorry I’m a little late, it took me forever to find a dress, and then my hair wouldn’t go right, and then the Uber took every back road known to man despite me literally telling him,” Luke reaches to readjust the fallen strap as you talk, fingers trailing ever so slightly against the soft skin of your shoulder, “That I knew a quicker way, and then we ended up at those lights over on Palmer for like 10 minutes, I think I was in that car so long I’m all crinkly.”

His eyes drop slowly down your figure, the silky fabric clinging to your curves in all the right spots, the soft yellow a perfect match to the tie around his neck. “You’re beautiful,” he reassures you with ease, cheeks flushing ever so slightly when your eyes meet his - but he’s used to that, by now, the way his head goes hot when you look at him. “I was gonna get a drink, do you want one?”

He extends his hand out to you in invitation before you even nod in response, and when your fingers slide between his, the heat that is swirling around his head and face starts to spread down, past his neck, into his chest, settling there as the two of you make your way over to the bar.

This last week without you has been hell.

Sat in his hotel room in Vegas, checking his phone for any sort of update - a text, an instagram post, a story - and wondering if that night before he had left had been playing on your mind the same way it had on his.

Soft, slow kisses pressed into reciprocated lips, hands memorising every inch of each other’s bodies, desperate but intentional movements into one another. It was hardly his first time, but God, had it felt like it. It was definitely the first time he had ever felt anything that deep for another person - felt so connected, so attached.

And, despite the lingering insecurity that he thinks he might always feel when it comes to you, he knew you felt the same.

You had told him in the simplest terms - you wanted him - but you had shown him so much more. Eyes stuck on his as he moved against you, foreheads pressed together, lips seeking his at every given opportunity, nails scratching at the broad expanse of his shoulders when he had taken the lead and flipped the two of you over.

Gasps and moans, pleading and pining, begging and singing for him as you came undone for the first, second and third time.

He doesn’t know how you can possibly even try to carry on pretending you don’t feel even an ounce of the infatuation he does.

Not when you look at him the way you do, eyes sparkling and wanting. Not when he had spent the past week pressing his fingertips into the bruises you had kissed again into the lowest part his stomach like that had become your spot, hoping he could aggravate them enough to linger until you could make some more.

Not when, even though the two of you have been stood at the bar now for a good few minutes, you haven’t made any efforts to take your fingers from where his are playing with them between the two of you.

“You never answered my question, earlier,” he hums as the two of you wait for your drinks.

“You talk so much, Hughes, you’re gonna have to remind me which question that was.”

“Did you miss me?” His head tilts with curiosity as he watches the hesitation cross your features, lashes fluttering as you look up at him with your lips pressed together to keep them from spluttering out the truth. “I missed you.” He admits, in the hopes that expressing his candour might elicit the same in you.

“I’m surprised you found the time, you looked very occupied on your brothers’ stories.” Bingo.

“You been keeping tabs on me?” The smirk that accompanies the question is instinctual, and he manages to catch the slight shift in your demeanour before you can retreat, closing his fingers around your hand before you can pull it away.

“No,” you scoff, and when you pull insistently for him to release your hand, the strap of your dress falls loose down your arm again, Luke’s eyes following before he fixes it for you once more. “Just stumbled across some pictures, I guess,”

“Yeah, you just tripped and fell into stalking me?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t doing the same, I saw those little 3 dots come up so often I was starting to think you were typing up the entirety of War and Peace.”

Which means you’d been lingering in your message thread with him, too. Gotcha.

“You know, the world won’t end if you just admit you missed me.”

“Fine.” It slips out before you know what you’re saying, eyes widening like a deer in the headlights as you realise you’ve already given in. “I missed you.”

He smiles, but doesn’t press, and it’s a smile that lingers as the two of you just look at each other, his eyes drifting down to watch your lips twist and press together, biting back whatever insult or chirp you’re just dying to throw his way to cover up. He waits for it to come, but loves that it doesn’t, and loves even more that you’re holding onto the moment as much as he is.

“Do you wanna dance?” Luke asks a while later, once the two of you have gulped down a couple of drinks, have sat with the others for a little, and he’s watched you watch the dance floor with a yearning gaze.

Your eyes meet his after he poses the question, a confidence in his demeanour that has you crumbling immediately.

You nod, allowing him to guide you over to where a few other couples are swaying on the dance floor, and you let him guide you into his arms, one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder.

It should be awkward, you think, remembering back on all the times you’ve tried this before. School dances and proms, clumsily shuffling and trying to avoid being stomped on by your partner’s feet - but the two of you move with ease, and you’d like to think it’s because his body knows yours by now.

“This is so weird,” you mutter, eyes cast down to watch his feet move in his fancy Oxford shoes, a soft flush to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” He asks, nerves heightening as he stiffens like he’s waiting for you to let him go - to step away and cut this short like it doesn’t make you feel the same way.

“Slow dancing is for old folk like war veterans and millennials.” Your lips twist as your eyes meet his, and his lips turn up into a slow smile, a deep, melodic chuckle following closely behind.

“If you’d rather bump’n'grind on me, I get it,” he smirks.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scoff back, twitching to shake the hair from your shoulder, assuming that’s what is causing the shivers currently shooting down your spine, and not the large, possessive hand resting in the dip of your waist.

“Y’know, I’ve realised something about you lately,” he starts, voice low as he leans in, angling into your exposed neck and stopping his lips within mere inches of your ear, “You have a tell.”

“A tell?” You turn, brow raised as your gaze meets his, faces close enough that you can feel the soft pants of his breath on your skin.

“For when you’re enjoying yourself more than you think you should be,” he hums, his eyes fluttering a little as they drop to watch your mouth, the swipe of your tongue wetting your lower lip. “You call me an idiot,” his hand on your waist squeezes ever so slightly, your back arching a little into his touch, “Or stupid,” he uses his other hand, the one clutching at yours, to pull you closer, “Or dumb, or a dork.”

You can feel your heart thudding at the call-out, beating in time to the music, in time to the way your bodies sway together, creating it’s own rhythm for the two of you to dance to.

“Maybe you’re just a stupid, dumb, dorky idiot.” You squeak out, immediately hating the way the words taste in your mouth, your face souring and eyes narrowing in deliberation. There’s no way that was at all convincing, and the smirk that tugs up his lips is all you need to know he sees right through you.

“Maybe,” he humours you, anyway. “And yet, you can’t get enough of me.”

“A smug dorky idiot.” You correct yourself, cutting out stupid and dumb, the sharpness of those words cutting at your tongue like a knife.

The pointlessness of such discussion almost waters down the exhilaration you feel at being this close to him, in public, nonetheless, where literally anyone else could call you out on your growing tolerance of Luke, could connect the dots regarding all the time the two of you have been spending together and wave the evidence of your growing affection like a chequered flag for all to see.

This definitely feels like you’re crossing the finish line.

And, of course, it’s Jack who does the honours, primed all night to find some way to get between you and Luke upon your arrival, stumbling up to the two of you at the end of the song you’re swaying to and laying a heavy palm on your shoulder.

“Isn’t this cosy?”

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke scowls before you get the chance, a pointed glare directed towards his brother, the palming grip at your waist growing faint as you try to wedge a little distance between the two of you, fighting a losing battle with your instinct to run and hide.

“I need to talk to your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his-,”

“She’s not my-,”

The two of you speak simultaneously, and despite the fact that you were saying the exact same thing, him saying it kind of dampens your mood, putting a good couple of steps between you and Luke with your arms crossing over your chest as you look toward his brother.

“Whatever. Can I borrow her for a couple minutes?”

“I’m not property, Jack, you can ask me directly.”

“Please can we talk? Alone?”

“Let’s go outside,” you huff, storming off before he has the chance to say anything else and making it all the way outside before he speaks again.

“Sorry for interrupting, you and Luke looked kind of cute-,”

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I said you were messing him around, and that you were toxic.”

You frown at him, watching as he diverts his gaze to the ground, nervously shuffling on his feet and fingers fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt.

“I’m sorry for all the things I said and did at that party, I didn’t mean them, I was just drunk and upset. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

You chew nervously on the inside of your cheeks as he talks, arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the brisk night air, and you watch as Jack starts to unravel before your very eyes.

For as long as you’ve known Ellie, for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him as anything less than cool, calm and collected - it’s kind of the main thing that grinds your gears about him if your honest, the fact that he never seems real. Like he’s putting on some sort of persona to seem like he has all his shit together, when you know he doesn’t.

“I really like Ellie, you know,” he sighs, and you scoff, because of course you know that. “And I was blaming you for putting this wedge between us when it’s really me that’s been fucking up.” You know that, too. “I’ve been thinking about her this past week, and I really wanna pull myself together and finally do something about it. Stop being such an idiot.”

You bite your tongue from questioning the reality of that. He’ll always be an idiot, you think, but that’s best left unspoken. It’s not even personal to him, that’s just part of being a man.

“She likes you too,” You tell him instead, despite the fact that it goes against all sorts of girl code to do so. You’re doing them both a favour, and the universe should really just let you off, you feel. “I don’t know why either of you have wasted so much time when you’ve both felt the same way all along.”

“You really think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

“I do,” you shrug, “And it doesn’t need to be done on some romantic boat trip or some crazy elaborate scheme, you should just ask her when she gets back next week. Like as soon as she comes through the door, it will save us all a headache.”

“You sound like Luke.”

“Yeah, well, he’s rubbing off on me, I guess.”

“I don’t need to hear what the two of you get up to when you’re alone, that’s my little brother.”

You reach over and shove at his arm, and for the first time ever, when your eyes meet his, neither of them are narrowed. He’s smiling, and you’re smiling too, and it feels a little like a weight has been lifted from your chest, fresh air filling your lungs.

“Let’s go back inside, Luke’s probably thinking we’ve killed each other.”

“I’m just gonna take a second, it’s kinda stuffy in there.”

Jack nods, before making his way back to the reception, and you make your way over to the fountain, heels working through the gravel until you take a seat on the side.

It’s a couple of minutes before you hear footsteps, and before you see the fancy oxfords come into your view, eyes roaming up the long, lean body of the boy who has your brain running marathons.

When your eyes meet, his gaze is warm, and it feels like he can see right through you. Like he’s looking into the depths of your mind, holding a big cheesy sign as he waits at the finish line for your thoughts to come to an end.

He sits wordlessly beside you, his knees knocking against yours, and waits for you to speak - although the silence doesn’t feel awkward, or forced. He waits, patiently and understandingly, and you feel like he’s giving you the time to figure out what you want to say.

It feels monumental, this moment, like you’re teetering on the edge of something real and honest for the first time in a while.

“The other week, when we,” your voice feels heavy, thick at the back of your throat, “You know,”

“I was strictly advised to forget about it, so no, I don’t know,” he teases, and you’re kind of thankful that he’s trying to ease the tension you’re building for yourself. “But if you wanna jog my memory.” You shove lightly at his shoulder. “I’m kidding. What about it?”

“I’ve never really done that before?”

“What, snuck a guy up to his room in the middle of a house party and rocked his world?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You scoff, smiling to yourself, despite the weight of all that you’re about to admit to him. “I’ve only ever slept with one other guy, and he wasn’t very nice about it after, so I just,” you frown, “Don’t really do it.”

“You don’t-,” he frowns too, you can see it from your peripheral, eyes till on the hands fidgeting in your lap, “But I thought-,” You look over and meet his eyes, brows furrowed and lips parted in confusion. “What?”

“The first guy, Jamie,” you start, twisting to face him, knees knocking once more. “We started talking in the summer before my freshman year, got to know each other ‘cause he lived one town over from me and he’d come into work all the time, and then when I started college he was a sophomore, and he was the first guy to ever take, like, a serious interest in me. And we had a lot in common, he was on the soccer team, we grew up in the same area, we got on really well, it was the first time I ever really felt connected to anyone like that. But I’d never done anything before, so I wanted to take things slow,”

Jamie Reeves. Captain of the University of Michigan Soccer Team until he tore his ACL at the end of his last year, ruining all dreams of playing in the MLS, like it was entirely achievable for a player of his caliber anyway. You had been infatuated by him, though. The kind of infatuation that a younger you might have doodled little hearts around his name in all your notebooks.

And then he turned out to be a complete leech.

“Please don’t tell me he rushed you into it.” Luke straightens his posture, reaching to place his hand over yours in your lap, the touch immediately comforting, and his concern even more so.

“No. Not exactly.” You sigh, hating how dramatic you feel about the whole thing. “We went on dates, and things were going really well, so I figured I trusted him enough to be my first, then after we had sex he just went really off. He wouldn’t take me out anymore, wasn’t putting any effort in. And then people started asking me all these questions about him, and what we did, and I realised he was going around telling everyone all the details, like I was just some conquest he could tick off to the boys on the team.” You remember how ashamed you had felt, eyes on you in every corridor, whispers about you in every class. You couldn’t leave your dorm without someone muttering some obscene comment about you, and you just felt awful. “Every time one of them saw me they’d make all these dumb comments, and I just felt dirty all the time, like I’d done something wrong. Then I went to a party at Pike, the one at Halloween,” The party that Luke had approached you for the first time since you met, and you had stormed off in tears - not due to him at all, but due to the fact you had just seen Jamie sticking his tongue down someone else’s throat, mere days after you had seen him last. “And he was all over one of the girls on the field hockey team, didn’t even look my way again after that, not that I really wanted him to.”

“You haven’t been with anyone since?”

You shake your head. “Doesn’t stop people saying I have, though. I tried dating a couple times, but it always ended up the same way, rumours being spread about me sleeping around and being easy. And it’s so dumb, ‘cause it’s like I trusted one guy, and somehow it keeps backfiring on me.” You pay no mind, for the first time in a long time, to the crack in your voice as you say it, no longer afraid of showing any hint of vulnerability. Not to Luke. You need to get this out - get it out of the way, once and for all, so you can move past it. Move on, even, with someone you hope won’t treat you the same.

“Does that mean you trusted me?”

You try not to think too hard about all the times the two of you have shared any level of intimacy - the physical touch mostly initiated by you, and it’s hardly ever on a whim. You think a lot about Luke, if you’re honest. About how he’s honest, and he sticks by his word when he promises not to tell anyone anything. How he always tries to make you laugh or smile, even if it’s something stupid. He isn’t afraid to embarrass himself with you, isn’t afraid to give you power, to let you take the lead. And even though sometimes he jokes otherwise, the times you hang out, he has no ulterior motives. He likes talking to you, likes watching movies with you, likes meeting your eye in a crowded room and giving you one of those smiles that have started to make your heart stutter with something unidentifiable.

“I guess so.” Your shoulder lifts in a nonchalant shrug, your words anything, but. “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it since and I can’t explain why it happened but I feel like you and me are-,”

Connected? Compatible?

You know what he would say you are. You don’t know if you’re there, yet.There are so many things the two of you have become over the past few weeks, so many things you’ve wanted to be for longer than you even realised, so many things you’re afraid to say.

“I feel like out of everyone, you’d have no reason to lie to me. Or about me.”

“I wouldn’t. I didn’t know all that stuff,” he frowns, and it seems like his mind only just makes sense of all the times you threatened him after the fact, making sure he wouldn’t tell anyone that the two of you kissed, or hung out alone in an intimate space and maybe potentially enjoyed yourselves. He had thought you were ashamed of it - but all this time, you’ve been protective. Of yourself, of the trust you were building in him. “Why don’t you tell people, that those guys are all lying?”

“No one would believe me,” you shrug, eyes cast down to where his hand still rests on yours, and his touch prevents you from picking nervously at the skin around your nails.

“I do,” He assures you, “And I promise the next time I hear anyone say any of that stuff about you, I’ll beat their face in.”

“Yeah, you’d drop gloves for me?”

“Look at you with your hockey talk.” He coos, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, where you had barely noticed a tear trailing down until he wipes it away with his thumb, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I would. We’re partners, remember? I’ve got your back.” He extends his pinkie out to you, and you curl yours around it until he’s tugging it toward him, leaning down to press his lips to your knuckle, his kiss like a promise as his green eyes meet yours.

It doesn’t gross you out, this time. If you’re honest with yourself, it hadn’t the first time he did it, either. It was cute, in an entirely dorky and childish and almost nostalgic way.

And you’re compelled to do the same, leaning and touching your pouted lips to his pinky, eyes fluttering closed as you kiss his skin, the rush of blood to your head somehow louder than the steady stream of the fountain beside you.

“Listen,” he starts, lowering his hand but keeping your pinkies interlocked, resting them between you both on the stone. “If whatever this is that we’re doing makes you uncomfortable, or brings all that stuff back, I can back off a little.”

Something akin to disappointment floods through your system, your heart rate picking up in a panicked staccato, but you try to stay cool - still, for whatever reason, holding your cards close to your chest.

“I can make sure my brothers don’t make any more stupid comments about us, they’re doing it to annoy me, not you. And I can,” he takes a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours as if to gauge your desires before he has to reluctantly pander to them. “I can stop, too.”

You nod, because it’s all you can do to shake away the tears threatening to flood your lash line at just the thought of him giving up on you.

It’s the lump in your throat that blocks the words coming out to tell him as much, and your lips twist in discomfort as you take in the way he’s looking at you - gaze filled with dwindling patience and waining resilience. There’s only so far you can continue to push him, you can see that now, and if you’d have told the version of yourself that first sat down with him all those weeks ago - the version of yourself that refuted any chance of ever warming up to him, that saw him as nothing more than an annoyance, a disturbance to your tips for the day - that the thought of him stopping whatever you have would make you feel like this?

That cold-hearted bitch would have laughed in your face.

“Hey, lovebirds!” There’s a shout from across the courtyard, and Quinn appears in the distance with hands cupped around his mouth. The intrusion has you retracting your hand, and you can see the way Luke reacts in your peripheral, a resigned nod given instinctually before he looks over to his brother. “I’m driving home if you two want a ride!”

Luke doesn’t look back at you before pushing himself up, but he offers a hand to help you stand, and the two of you walk in silence to meet Quinn by the exit.

The car ride back to the house is silent, too, save for the soft hum of the radio that filters through the car. Josh sits up front with Quinn, head lulling against the window as he falls asleep worryingly quick, and you’re squished in the middle between Luke and Alex, Jack having stayed back with their parents. It’s hard not to press your legs against Luke’s - his are so gangly and long that they take up more than their fair share of room, and it’s much less awkward despite the circumstances to be touching him than touching Turcs. You feel a lot less tense when you’re touching, anyway.

And when Quinn pulls up, Luke still helps you out of the car - ever the gentleman, even in the face of apparent rejection.

Quinn and Alex work at lugging an overly inebriated Josh up to his room, leaving Luke to guide you through the house, and the silence starts to become unbearable as he whispers a quick and quiet goodnight, leaving you at the door to yours and Ellie’s room as he makes his way down the hall.

“Hey, Luke,” you call out in a whisper toward him as he retreats, his tall frame turning, a gleam of what you interpret as hope flashing across his green eyes.

“Yeah?” He hums back, voice low as not to disturb anyone else, gaze meeting yours, locking in place with an almost audible click.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You’re worried for a second you’ll have to expand, that maybe his slightly intoxicated memory doesn’t stretch as far back as to remember the conversation the two of you had had out by the fountain.

Elaborating on it would be embarrassing to say the least - because what, exactly, are you supposed to say?

I don’t want you to stop flirting with me.

I don’t want you to stop kissing me when no one else is around.

I don’t want you to stop being the only person I can talk to.

I don’t want you to stop bulldozing into my very secure and sturdy walls, thank you very much. They’re starting to tumble down in what could be a very calamitous fashion.

Worried you might have to expose a little more of yourself than you had originally anticipated, you chew at the corner of your lip, waiting.

But then he smiles - in that easy way that makes your bones feel like jelly, your knees weakening to the point that you lean against the still-closed door of your room. In the way that has that loudmouth voice you’re trying too often to suppress within you screaming, God, he’s so cute!

“I know,” he smirks, the bastard, liquid courage running deep through his veins, “Inevitable, remember?”

You scoff, almost instinctively rolling your eyes despite the endeared warmth that floods your belly. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” he says again, “You coming?”

And all you can do is nod, biting back a fully-fledged smile before you’re rushing over and slotting yourself under his outstretched arm.

You definitely enjoy him more than you should.

Living with boys for the first time in your life has taught you a lot over the weeks you’ve been staying at the lake house.

The first is that they’re weirdly messy - in ways that shouldn’t bother you, but they do. It isn’t clothes left around, or dirty plates - but it’s hand soap crusted around the spout by the faucet, shoes kicked off and discarded at random points throughout the house, and they, for some bizarre reason, never put the lid back right on anything.

The second is that they’re loud - and that should have been anticipated. Guys are notoriously obnoxious. But it isn’t just their voices that carry. It’s footsteps up the stairs, stomping in the dead of the night when one of them needs a drink. It’s chewing their food, or slurping their coffee, or scraping the feet of their chairs against the floor when they’re sat at the dining table. It’s tapping their hands on their knees in haphazard rhythm whenever there might be an ounce of peace that they, without a doubt, misunderstand for awkward silence.

And the third is that they probably couldn’t organise a fire in a match factory. And that goes for a lot of things - the kitchen cupboards, their laundry loads, and, most importantly, one of the many parties they love to throw.

It wouldn’t bother you so much - they usually work out in the end - but this time, it’s Ellie’s birthday, and the way they leave everything until the last minute is about to give you an aneurysm or something.

There’s no food, no drinks, no cake, no decorations, and the party is tonight.

And Jack, who’s grand idea it had been to throw her a party in the first place, seems to have kidnapped her - disappearing and leaving you to try and figure out what’s going on.

Cole is the one who finds you in the kitchen, spiralling out, frantically trying to put together some kind of list so that one of the guys can go to the store and pick up the bare minimum to throw a party together - and he manages to calm you down - gathers the rest of the guys and helps come up with a plan, sharing out different categories. Quinn and Josh are down to get drinks, Cole and Alex are down to get food, and you and Luke are down for decorations.

And then within the next five minutes, you’re back up in your room, transferring things from one of your bags into a tote, so you can carry more stuff back to the car without having to bring back a load of plastic, and Luke is sat on your bed, leaning back onto his hands as he watches you, green eyes still tickling your skin with their tangible watch.

“I know we’re on a time crunch, but could we make another pit-stop at the mall? I still need to find a present for this baby shower.”

“Oh, actually, I made you something.”

“You made me something?” You can feel him watching you as you dig through the bag you’d brought back with you from being home.

“Yeah, I was bored, when you guys were gone, I forgot to give it to you when you got back, got kinda distracted by the whole wedding thing,” you tell him, reaching blindly to try and find the little figure. “I went by that art supply store and picked up one of those kits,” You finally find it, pulling out the little crotchet animal that may or may not have been your fourth attempt. The first had a stubby neck, the second had uneven legs, and you don’t think the third one’s face was anywhere near appropriate to be gifting to a child. This one isn’t perfect, but you’d honestly reached your limit with it. “Don’t make it a thing, it was like therapy while I was back home to be honest.”

“Oh that’s adorable.” He pouts, accepting it from you and immediately turning it back, bobbing it’s head as if to greet you. “Why a giraffe?”

“Long neck,” you smile, reaching out to pat it. “Reminded me of you.”

“Ha ha,” he rolls his eyes, but the laughter feels real enough. “She’ll love it.”

“She?” It slips out by instinct before you can check yourself, eyes widening as his meet yours again, his lips twitching in the corners. “Thought you said it was for your captain,”

“It is.” He smirks, “Men can’t carry babies last time I checked.”

You nod, because of course men can’t carry babies. Of course the shower is for the mother of the baby - who you vaguely remember Jack and Luke talking about - someone who works with them back in Jersey. Someone they’re both close to, clearly, if Luke’s stressing this much about a gift.

“Wait, are you jealous?”

“No.” You scoff, frowning purposefully, lips turning down in forced denial.

“You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You want to take this back now, huh?” He holds the giraffe in a way that it bends, adorably, like he’s trying to taunt you with it, and it’s wonky eyes do little to distract from the charm he gives it.

“Nope.” You shrug, “You can give it to whatever girl you want, doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Of course not,” he stands, stepping toward you slowly, “You couldn’t care less what I do away from this house, right?”

“Right.” You gulp, looking into soft green eyes, your legs starting to wobble at the knees, strength and integrity waining as the seconds pass. You really don’t know why you’re still keeping this game up. Ever since that night of the wedding, you’ve been sneaking off into Luke’s room as soon as Ellie falls asleep. You fall asleep by his side, and he wakes you when he gets up early, so you can sneak back without Ellie realising you’ve even gone.

You’ve kissed him every day, sometimes tender, sometimes torrid - over the centre console of his car when he drops you off at work, in his bed before you drift off to sleep, in the kitchen when you sneak off under the ruse of refilling your drink. He can tell the difference between the flavours of lip balms you wear, comments on it like he has a little ranking system filed away somewhere in the back of his mind. You both whisper your secrets in the dark of the night, and you had promised him that you would try to open yourself up more to him.

“I thought we were past this,” he hums, stepping closer, voice low in a way that buzzes through your bones. “Thought we were being honest with each other, now.”

“Honest?” You ask, voice weak, neck craning now to look up at him, eyes boring into your own as he advances on you.

His hand reaches to cup your jaw, to tilt your head just that bit further, and presses his lips straight to yours instead of elaborating any further.

He’s tentative, at first. Gentle, even. Fingertips ghosting along the side of your neck, pulling you closer, less with any physical force and more so with pure magnetic attraction, your skin humming - buzzing, even, to be touched by him in any which way.

Your chin tilts as your mouths slot together in a soft, slow kiss, and when his lips touch yours, everything else fits perfectly into place. The fingers of his left hand press firmly into the flesh of your hip, now, using a slight force to manoeuvre you how it suits him - as close as he can physically get you - and those on his right reach around enough to slightly curve towards the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure so that your chin angles upward to deepen the kiss, his tongue pressing a pleading invitation into your bottom lip.

An invitation you immediately grant him, your hands finding their place on his body with ease, one flat against the warm expanse of his chest and the other matching his, soft fingertips grazing the skin of his neck until they tangle in the slight overgrowth of curls at the nape.

Everything feels so fluid, so effortless, and yet, so new - like this is the first time you have kissed, an eruption of fresh feelings bursting through you. There’s still a familiarity that lingers - one of ease, where it’s like your bodies have each other mapped out, already. You know every cell of him and he of you, and it’s evident in the way the moment escalates.

Your bodies naturally gravitate towards the nearest surface, his fingers reaching out behind your hip to soften the blow of him pushing you into the dresser, your back arching, feet moving in sync as not to tangle and trip, or stumble and break the kiss.

But there’s nothing else clumsy about it.

He lifts you with ease, the cold surface only a slight shock to the system, and it brings you to the perfect height where he can seamlessly move his kisses from your lips, past your jaw, down your neck and into the crevice of your collarbones, leaving a trail of the sticky residue of your lip balm.

Strong hands cup your thighs, parting your legs until he can stand between them, and your fingers bury themselves into his curls, pushing into him however you can.

When his fingers graze the inside of your thigh, his lips part from the hot skin of your clavicle, and his head tilts slightly until his darkened green eyes meet yours.

“Please,” you breathe out before he can even ask, beyond caring for whatever particles of pride you’ve been desperately trying to cling to when you watch his lips curve slowly into the most panty-dropping smirk you think you’ve ever seen.

“Please what?”

Your lips part as if by instinct, a biting remark fizzling out on the tip of your tongue as your mind works for some kind of comeback, for some semblance of resistance to whatever this version of him is, but there’s nothing. Just a frantic plea for him to do anything to you. Whatever he wants.

Your hips shuffle forward as if led by a mind of their own, trying to force his hand up, only for him to follow the movement of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you find yourself pouting, spikes of heat flashing through you at the way you can see the thoughts crossing his mind, of all the ways in which he can torture you - putty in the palm of what you thought were safe hands.

“Tell me you were jealous,” he prompts, leaning forward to press a teasing kiss to your lips, “Tell me that the thought of me even talking to another girl makes your skin crawl.”

Don’t let him get cocky, a voice prevails in the back of your mind, despite the accuracy of his words. Tell him he’d have to have an ounce of game for you to be remotely worried, tell him the only thing that makes your skin crawl is his incessant need to mouth off all the time. Tell him, tell him, tell him!

“I was jealous,” you breathe out instead, chasing the victorious smirk that stretches across his lips in the hopes you can kiss it away.

Jealous of a girl you’ve never met, in a relationship with another man, pregnant with his child, not remotely interested in Luke.

A girl who gets to see him all the time, who knows him probably in ways you might never, who he cares enough about to want to gift her something meaningful. Who he casually texts and smiles at his phone as he’s doing so, who he and Jack talk affectionately about in ways they’ll never talk about you.

You’ve officially lost it.

“And if you don’t touch me in the next 3 seconds,” you carry on, scrambling to claw back one single iota of your dignity, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders, “I won’t let you touch me again.”

Luke laughs. Practically snorts at you, eyes crinkling in the corners in pure amusement. Your dignity is long gone.

“1,” you start, your voice shakier than you’d ever like it to be, and his hands move to either side of your hips, clutching at the edge of the dresser.

“2,” you didn’t think you could sound worse than before, definitely longer than a second ago, but you’re quickly proven wrong as you watch him leverage that grip to push himself upright, creating a distance between the two of you that drains all the heat from your body.

“3.” he finishes, taking a step back and watching you with unadulterated hunger in his eyes, daring you to follow through with your threat - and the smug idiot knows you won’t.

He knows it’s coming, even anticipates the way in which you pounce on him, arms ready to catch you when you throw yourself down onto the ground in front of him, landing with a quick thud that jolts you straight into him. Hands at either side of his face pull him down, and he does half of the work in bending his back so it isn’t as clumsy.

You tangle yourself up in him, legs twisting between each other until you’re stumbling toward the bed, and it’s as soon as you get your fingers back into his hair, as soon as his hands are pushing your top up, grazing at the warm skin of your back, that you hear a call of your name.

You falter back from him just as the door swings open, managing to create a reasonable amount of distance as Ellie swaggers in, voice still raised as she asks, “Have you seen my-,” It’s Luke that she sees first, eyes zeroing in on his flushed face with pin-point accuracy, her brows furrowing as she takes him in, heaving chest and messy hair and all. “Lip gloss?”

Lip gloss? Is she joking?

“You came all the way back up here for lip gloss?” You ask, still slightly breathless and brain fogged, and feeling very much like you’ve just put all your chips on the table and watched them get swept away in seconds.

You watch as Ellie’s eyes dart to Luke’s mouth, watch him grow conscious of the balmy coating smeared across his lips, and you feel your heart stop in it’s place, your chest squeezing in anticipation of a thump thump thump that doesn’t come.

“No,” she mutters, diverting her attention back to you with a sobering shake of her head. “Balm,” she corrects, “The kind with SPF, I think I’m burning, I didn’t realise me and Jack were gonna be gone all morning.”

“Uhm, yeah,” you breathe, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears in the hopes it helps cool your head down, some. “I have some in my bag.”

Your tote is on the dresser you had just been placed on yourself, and you use the opportunity to dig through it to will the burning sensation in your ears away, levelling out your breathing as you root around for a tube of lip balm you know is in there somewhere.

“Could you check for my car keys, too? I was thinking we could drop by the mall for lunch. Catch up” She adds, with a forced wiggle of her brows, clearly what she had actually come up here for, and you fish those out too, throwing them across to her. “Quinn’s looking for you before you go, Luke, something about a list.”

“I should go check what he wants,” Luke mumbles, putting another few steps of distance between you before he offers an awkward wave, and departs the room with heavy feet that you hear stomp all the way down the hall, the last thing you see of him being a skinny, lopsided crochet giraffe poking out of his back pocket.

Apparently Jack’s plans of keeping some element of surprise for the party had gone out of the window as soon as he had got her alone - and you’re kind of grateful for the fact.

Keeping secrets from Ellie is stressful - you of all people would know, you’ve somehow managed to keep a pretty big one from her all summer - and she usually has a way of figuring things out on her own.

You probably would have folded to her - just the two of you out together, sipping smoothies in the food court at the mall - if he hadn’t already filled her in one the plans for the night.

It makes up a little for his lack of effort, earlier - especially now that your hands are clear of it. You don’t know how much you trust the guys to put something together while you and Ellie are looking for an outfit for her, but you have no choice but to leave them to it. Jack had reassured you he had everything under control, and despite the absurdity of that statement, it’s nice for that panic you had been feeling earlier to have been flushed away.

“I think tonight’s the night,” Ellie sighs dreamily, elbow resting on the table and her chin in the palm of her hand, “We had this really deep conversation while we were out walking, and he pretty much told me he has feelings for me, he was really nervous, it was kind of cute.”

“I’ll take your word for the cute thing,” you chuckle, sipping at your smoothie and smiling at how happy she looks. It’s nice to hear, her having hope about the situation for once, instead of dread or fear.

“He said you two spoke at his cousin’s wedding,”

“It was nothing,” you shrug, “He didn’t need any interference from me to realise he likes you, El, he just needed a nudge.”

“I can hardly call you out on interfering,” her lips twist, nervously, “I’ve kind of been doing the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I’ve been hanging out with Cole so much all summer?”

“Cole?” You frown, leaning back into your chair, “You’ve lost me.”

When you’d last spoken to Ellie about Cole, she had told you they just got along, and there was nothing more to it - and you had no reason to believe otherwise. When you and Luke had been in the midst of your own interference, and you had been playing third wheel to their hangouts, they had been getting along. Almost like siblings. Cole never flashed her those flirty winks or toothy grins that he gave everyone else.

“He’s into you.” She says, finger swiping in the ring left behind from her smoothie cup on the table, “And I was kind of giving him advice on how to approach you. I figured you wouldn’t mind, ‘cause he’s like your normal type, and you seemed like you liked him-,”

“I’m sorry, you think I like Cole?”

You’re taken aback. You don’t remember giving any sort of indication you were ever into Cole Caufield.

Maybe you could have been, before this summer - would have probably fallen victim to his cheeky smiles or his teasing banter. He’s probably closer to your usual type, if you even have one. Confident, with a presence that sort of demands attention. But you realise, now, your attention should be earned - in more than just a flash of cute teeth and boyish features.

In dumb jokes told just to bring you out of a bad mood, and a car with the AC dialled up waiting for you after a shift on a hot day. In hands that offer you help before you ever have to ask, and eyes that see so far beyond what version of yourself you try to put out there.

You could have liked Cole, in another world, or another life, if another boy wasn’t around.

“I did until I walked in on you kissing Luke, earlier.”

You blink slowly at her, mouth agape as she stares blankly back.

What the fuck?

“I wasn’t kissing Luke,” you scoff, denial making your face twist in funny ways that you can even feel look deranged. “We were talking.”

“Into each other’s open mouths?” She snickers, “Unless he’s been digging around in our stuff when we’re not around, I can’t think of any other reason he’d have left the room with Summer Fridays Vanilla Beige smeared all over his lips.”

“It was Brown Sugar, actually.” You correct her, guiltily, hoping the words you mutter next through pouted lips don’t quite make it to her ears. “He says it’s sweeter.”

“Oh my God.” She guffaws, mouth agape and eyes wide in realisation. “How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” you deny, although you can feel heat creeping up your neck, already. “We just get along-,”

“We get along, and you don’t welcome me home with an open mouth.”

“Ellie-,”

“Listen, he’s not just some guy that you can mess around with, he’s way deeper into you than you probably realise, and-,”

“I like him, okay?” you blurt out, voice just loud enough to be heard over her rambling but not enough to carry anywhere else, and the silence that follows is almost deafening - prolonged in a way that you can’t even remember if you said anything, or not.

But the way Ellie is looking at you tells you enough.

Why is everyone so caught up on you breaking his heart?

As if you aren’t putting the entirety of yours on the line.

“Luke?” She asks, like the two of you haven’t just been talking about him. “You like Luke Hughes?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning onto your elbows and pressing the palms of your hands to your face, eyes scrunching tight to try clear up some mind space to make sense of what it is you’re admitting to.

It makes sense already, to you. Verbalising it is the problem.

He’s charming, he’s funny, he makes you laugh, most times unintentionally but that doesn’t make your feelings dwindle in the slightest.

He’s weirdly passionate about that one horse movie and won’t shut up trying to get you to watch it with him, but it’s endearing in a way that you want to kiss him to shut him up. Or maybe even watch it, God forbid.

He literally never stops eating, but it’s like his body is in tune to yours now, and he always makes double if he feels like you might be hungry so you don’t ever have to ask, which is weirdly sweet.

When you lay beside him in the middle of the night, you don’t feel pressured to do anything other than talk.

And when you do, he listens to you - retains information and checks up in a way that makes you feel seen, makes you feel a way you haven’t in a really long time. He doesn’t talk over you, or dismiss your feelings, or try to change the topic when things go a little too deep or get a little heavy. He shares the load, asks questions that make you think and process things in a new way, and he isn’t patronising when he does so. He doesn’t say things that sound like they’re straight out of a Psych 101 textbook like your feelings are valid or what makes you think that?

And he compares your wildly different worlds in a way that doesn’t feel like a competition. His troubles aren’t worse than yours, his life isn’t harder.

You’re equals.

You’ve never felt like anyone’s equal, not even Ellie.

It’s like with all the other parts of your life that make you hurt, make you feel small and insignificant - they fade away when you’re with Luke.

His corner of your world is bright - despite the seemingly inexhaustible snark-meter constantly ticking between you two - it’s easy, doesn’t weigh down on you or make your chest feel tight, not in that way, at least.

You’ve been introduced to a whole new influx of feelings in your chest by Luke.

You can give in to the ugly side of yourself that wants to bite at him until there’s nothing left, to push whenever he gets a little too close, and you don’t have to worry that you’ll scare him off or push too far, ‘cause he’ll just pull you with him and bite back - only, it doesn’t hurt like when anyone else does it. Somehow, you think he savours the parts that other people might spit out - chews and swallows and rubs at his belly in satisfaction like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

Despite all the other things that have shattered your heart, Luke Hughes makes it feel whole, again.

And it should make you feel sick - lovey-dovey stuff like that usually does, your walls shooting straight up at the first sign of affection from anybody, metaphorical sneakers on and carrying your legs as far and as fast as they can run - but this doesn’t.

You don’t want to run from Luke, not really.

“I thought you said he was dorky and annoying.”

You’re pretty sure she had been the one to say that, at some point, but you don’t remember arguing the fact, so you don’t bring it up.

“He is.” You pout. He’s also apparently inevitable. “He kinda crept up on me, I guess.”

Ellie is quiet for a minute as she watches you, eyes narrowing as she takes you in - shoulders slumped, lips pouted, defeated.

“Why not just tell him, then? Why hide it?” She asks, leaning onto the table too until your faces are level when you peak up at her, “You know he likes you back, right? He’s got the biggest crush on you, it’s borderline problematic.”

“I don’t know, I don’t really understand why he likes me.”

“Does it matter?”

It does. You don’t want to keep running, but you can’t really help it. There’s something ingrained deep within you that is trying to shelter yourself from all the ways in which succumbing to these feelings will inevitably hurt you.

“Luke’s way smarter than me, and he’s way more successful, he’s kind and he’s generous, he comes from a great family, has this great house, we have literally nothing in common, and he doesn’t see that now because he just thinks he’s attracted to me, and he likes that I don’t just fold to him because he’s some superstar, but the second that’s gone,” you sigh, trying to swallow down the hurt in your voice, blink away the onslaught of tears, “He’ll just get bored of me like everybody else does, and then he’ll be gone. And I’ll just be some girl he broke up with and left behind, and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

Ellie frowns, a strained mutter of your name called as her hand falls to yours in an attempt to comfort you. “You’ll never know if you don’t try, babe.”

“No, I know.”

It’s all you’ve ever known.

Men who start off treating you like some prized possession - cherishing you, making you feel valued and loved - and the second the shine wears off, the second something even newer, even brighter, even sparklier, crosses their path, they’re gone.

And you’re left behind wondering what it is about you that keeps driving them to leave.

It happened with your dad, with his new wife and their perfect kids - the boys he always wanted, who he never had to force himself to like. The dream family he abandoned you to pursue. It happened with Jamie, with all the girls he saw after you, with the way he never even looked your way again, even after all the secrets you shared, and the promises he made. With all those other boys who never saw you as anything more than a fabricated story to spread for a few brownie points with their buddies in the locker room.

It will happen again.

These feelings you have for Luke - the comfort he gives, the contentment, the ease in conversation, the warmth he bathes you in until your skin prunes and he seeps in through the cracks - they’re better kept to yourself. It’s easier that way, to keep this whole heart under lock and key, not giving anyone a chance to break parts off and keep it for themselves.

It’s almost perfect the way it is.

Safe, even from the clutches of the boy who pieced it back together, brick by laborious brick.

“There isn’t long left of the summer, anyway,” you go for a nonchalant shrug, but your shoulders feel heavy, and it turns out more like an arduous huff. “I doubt he’s shy of female attention back in Jersey, he’ll forget I ever existed before he even knows it.”

“You should talk to him,” Ellie suggests, “At least let him know where you stand, even if it’s to tell him things can’t go further.”

The thought of it is too daunting. Looking into those gleaming green eyes and laying your heart on the line.

You can pretend all you want to Ellie, to yourself, even, that you wouldn’t want more, but you don’t think you could keep up the show with him.

“He deserves at least that.”

And damn it, she’s right.

Maybe he even deserves a proper chance.

Luke never thought he’d regret kissing you for any reason, but he’s wishing he had practiced some restraint up in your room, earlier.

If he hadn’t advanced on you, had let you pack your bag and got you out of the house before Ellie and Jack got back, he could have followed through on his plan of action for the day.

A plan he’d been hyping himself up for, all week - getting you on your own, talking things out, maybe even asking you out. Properly. Not just dinner at the mall, but a real date. Planned, perfected. A fancy dinner, or a trip to the movies. A picnic blanket laid out somewhere with a nice view, and an abundance of your favourite snacks.

He wants to kiss you without having to hide it, anymore.

He wants to walk with you tucked under his arm. Wants to have you in his lap when there’s too many people over at the house, and the group are struggling for space on the couches in the den.

He also sort of wants peace of mind, but what’s that compared to not having to sneak around, anymore.

He’d made his mind up in the morning, waking up beside you at 5am, rousing you from your sleep with soft mutterings of your name, and lips pressed to your cheek until he could feel you smile.

“Hi,” your voice had been croaky, and your movements slow, shuffling against him as your skin became illuminated by the soft glow of the rising sun slipping through the gap in the curtains. Your legs had been tangled with his under the sheets, and you did little to untangle them, and he was tempted to lock his so that you couldn’t.

“Hey,” he mumbled, lips still moving against your skin, nipping at your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and your fingers rose until they clutched at the back of his hair, curls wrapping around them as you held him in place.

“What time is it?”

“Around five,” his own hands landed on your waist, slipping under the hem of your tank, and trying to savour the warmth of your skin, your body hot from being against his all night. “Figured you’d need to be a little earlier today with it being Ellie’s birthday and all.”

“Thank you,” you used your soft grip on his curls to tug, until his face left the crook of your neck, and you blinked softly, smiled sweetly, and he felt his heart beat at twice the normal speed. You leant up and kiss him, straight on the lips, and he smiled against you just as you pulled away.

He felt cold all over as soon as you detached yourself, and he rolled onto his side to watch as you stood, arms raised to stretch and lifting the bottom of your tank top to rise up your belly.

He felt robbed. Like he deserved longer with you, and it had been as you crawled back over your side of his bed, and had kissed him once more before leaving, that he had decided he needed to do something about it.

His original plan had been to steal you away at some point in the night, everyone else too distracted by the party to notice or care, but being teamed up with you to go get decorations seemed like it would work too.

Until Jack came back and fucked his plans up.

Jack said that he would go get the food with Turcs, that he had already paid for a cake, and he had to show his ID when he picked it up. He said Ellie shouldn’t have to do anything, and that you would be the best person for her to do nothing with, which left Luke picking up decorations with Cole.

It wasn’t that he minded Cole’s company, but Cole isn’t you.

He probably could have tucked Cole under his arm as they walked side by side through target and picked up a bunch of of banners and streamers, given the logistics of their height difference, but it wouldn’t have been as cute.

He has managed to get a lot of unexpected information though. And of course, his only thought is that he can’t wait to share it with you.

Cole tells Luke how he and Ellie have only been hanging out all summer to make Jack jealous.

He bites his tongue to refrain from telling him that sort of trick doesn’t work on his brother, but Cole seems too pleased with himself for Luke to rain on his parade, and he finds it kind of funny that everyone’s been working to get the two of them to wake up to their feelings, not just you and him.

Cole might have even ended up putting more effort into it than you and Luke did, acting as a go-between for Jack and Ellie, and raising the stakes for both of them to make a move.

“And what do you get out of any of that?” Luke chuckles as he works at taking the banners out of their plastic wrapping, Cole taking the plastic and putting it straight into the trash.

The smile drops as soon as Cole says your name, though, and Luke’s hands stop in place. “Ellie’s been giving me insider info. I’m primed and ready to make a move.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Luke frowns, “You like her? Since when?”

He tries not to let the panic stirring in his chest reflect on his features, but it’s hard.

Cole and Ellie had been hanging out for a long time, now. He can’t have been into you that whole time, right? Not without saying anything to anyone else - Cole is kind of mouthy, like that. Word would have got back around to Luke if Cole’s liked you for months.

“Since I met her. She’s a really cool girl, really funny.” Cole scoffs, hand reaching out for more trash. “And she’s, like, one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen, you know?”

Of course Luke knows. He’s seen the most beautiful sides to you - soaked head to toe from a garden hose, eyes crinkled from laughter, or the aftermath, curled up on a couch with just-dry hair and heart opening up to him for the very first time. In an orange baseball cap and a Mets jersey, twirling as you exit one of the fitting rooms you had found in the mall, a big cute grin on your face as you allow yourself to dorky with Luke, and only with Luke. Sat out on the fountain at the club, skin bathed in the glistening moonlight and your heart thumping in the palm of his tender hands. Laid beside him in the early hours of the morning, soft snores falling from between your lips and hair splayed out against his pillow.

But he can’t exactly say that to Cole - who has apparently been working to pursue you this entire time without Luke ever catching on.

“Ellie says I’m her type, so I don’t know why I’m stressing about asking her out-,”

“Out like on a date? Like you want to date her?”

Luke knows he sounds like an idiot without Cole giving him the weirded-out look he gives, but he’s starting to lose out to the dread that is flooding the pit of his stomach. He stumbles to follow Cole out of the kitchen and into the living room, where they had set up a step ladder before to hang the decorations.

“You really think I’d be trying so hard if I didn’t?” Cole scoffs, “Catch up, Luke, I’m trying to end my summer with a girlfriend-,”

“She’s hardly girlfriend material.”

The words taste sour in the mouth that moves before his brain has time to think - sour enough that he has to try not to grimace, wishing he could suck them back in and swallow them back down like they never came out.

“What do you mean?” Cole asks, his features dropping into a frown. “I thought you two were getting along.”

“We are,” he agrees, despite it seeming like an understatement, but words are starting to pour out before he can filter them, and he can already feel himself getting carried away. “And she’s a nice enough person, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t think it would work out with her like that.”

“You think she’d be hard work?”

He knows you are. But he likes you that way. He doesn’t want anyone else to worm their way into your good graces like he has.

“Yeah,” he huffs, “She’s always out, and always flirting with guys at the club, you’ve seen it.” He knows he’s pulled that out of his ass, but what else is he supposed to say?

“I think she’s just fishing for tips, Lukey,” Cole chuckles, and Luke’s cheeks flush with humiliation at the pet name. He feels small, like he’s just something that Caufield can steam roll straight over without much protest. “Can’t blame her, some of those guys have deep pockets.”

“I’ve just heard stuff, you know.”

“Like what?”

Jesus Christ, Cole, he thinks, wishing he’d just take his word for it and get over you, already. As if it would ever be that easy. He doesn’t particularly enjoy saying these things out loud - using the words you had so carefully confided in him against you - but there’s a panicked desperation creeping up within him, becoming possible to ignore, and it’s cancelling out all other rational thoughts in his brain.

The second you find out Cole Caufield is interested, you’ll no longer have any need for Luke.

Luke, who your every conversation with starts or ends with some sort of bickering argument, who annoys you to no end, who riles you up like it’s what he was put on this very Earth to do.

Cole is charming, he’s always had an ease when it comes to talking to girls that Luke never quite found in himself, and he’ll win you over in no time - and that’s if you aren’t interested, already.

But Luke is building up to that.

He’s been building up to it all summer.

Even before then, without entirely knowing it.

The two of you have something, even if you refuse to admit it. You wouldn’t have kissed him all those times, otherwise, wouldn’t have come to his bed in the middle of the storm those weeks ago, and almost every night since he came back from Vegas, wouldn’t have slept with him before he left, wouldn’t have begged him to give in to you - not if you weren’t interested in him.

You’ve shared parts of yourself he knows no one’s ever seen, and he can’t let that be for nothing.

But now the rug is being pulled out from under him, and all he can do to cling on to the edges with an idiotic possessiveness that curls his upper lip and brings his heart to a screeching stop.

“Like how she’s with a different guy every week at Michigan. Apparently she gets around.”

“Oh,” Cole frowns, and Luke watches as his face turns, his own fists clenching at the urge to take it all back, to defend her and call Cole out on his immediate shift despite it being his own fault.

He’s made his bed, now. He has to lie in it.

“Ellie didn’t mention all that stuff.”

“She’s hardly gonna call her friend easy.” Luke scoffs, and he thinks the way the words are spat out of his mouth is some sort of reflection of the way his lips don’t want to say them. Like they’re disgusted that his brain would even conceptualise them enough to be spoken. “Especially when you were doing her a favour with the whole Jack thing.”

“I don’t know man, I think you’ve got the wrong idea of her.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Cole makes his way back toward the step ladder, banner in hand, jaw tensing as he scrambles to think of something to stop this.

“She’s not the kind of girl you date,” he manages to call out, despite the tremor in his voice, every fibre of his being fighting the words from being spoken. “And there’s like a month left before we all leave for camp, so if you were to start anything, it would just be for the summer, anyway.”

“Jack and Ellie have started something with just a month left.”

“That’s not the same thing, they’ve been into each other for years, they text and call all the time, nothing’s really changing for them except for a label, you really think you’re gonna keep that up after just a couple months of knowing her?”

He reaches out for the other end of the banner and holds it as Cole positions his side, lip tugged between his teeth and a frown on his face as he mulls Luke’s words over.

“You’ll be in Montreal, and she’ll be here, and you’ll be focusing on hockey, and training, and you won’t have time to keep up something serious with a girl you barely know.”

He tries not to think about how it’s the same distance to Jersey - an almost 2 hour flight - and how he’d be doing the exact same thing, swept up into the season before he knows it and potentially doing nothing but letting you down.

“And you know what she’s like, she’d find something to argue about with a monk, for God’s sake,” he scoffs, brows furrowed so hard he can feel the tension in his forehead, “All you’d get from her is an earache. She’s not worth it.”

Cole turns to narrow his eyes at Luke, but something else over the top of his head catches his attention, instead, and the surprised muttering of your name turns Luke’s blood to ice.

Frozen in place, eyes wide, heart thudding in his ears, he waits with bated breath for something to happen - for Cole to break into a shit-eating grin, and tell him he’s just fucking around. For the ground to swallow him up. For anyone - literally anybody else - to respond.

But your voice carries straight over to him. Travels through his ears, ricochets around the cavern of his skull, shoots down his spine and makes his legs go numb.

“We uhm,” your tone is shaky, and Luke, for the first time, maybe, ever, hates the way you sound. “We were just checking if you needed a hand with the decorations.”

He turns slowly, and it’s Ellie’s eyes he meets first. Pointed, narrowed, betrayed, even, she glares at him like he’s just kicked a wounded animal right in front of her.

“You can’t decorate your own party,” Cole laughs from behind Luke, as Luke’s attention drifts slowly your way.

His eyes meet yours, and he can see the watery glaze over them from across the room. Can see your throat working to gulp down your hurt as your lips twist.

Ellie says something in response, and he vaguely hears Cole speak too, but all that he can focus on is the blood rushing around his head, a whooshing and whirring that makes him feel like his ears are about to pop, or his brain is about to explode. His lips part to speak, to say something, anything, to explain what you had clearly overheard, but your gaze drops to the floor, and he sees your walls build back up right before his eyes, brick by brick, cementing themselves back in place.

He’s such an idiot.

He’s such a monumental asshole.

The last time he had seen tears in your eyes had been sat by the fountain at the club - he had wiped them away, and had promised you he had your back, and you had just caught him having anything but with Cole. And all that after you had told him why you had ever been hesitant to let anyone in the first place.

He doesn’t think he’s ever messed up like this.

He steps forward, unsteady on his feet, and you step back, still not able to look him in the eye again, before turning on your heel and making your way upstairs.

Luke hears the stomp of your feet as you go, watches Ellie go after you, wishing it could be him, and stands, motionless, until he feels a firm pat on his back.

“Don’t worry, man,” Cole says, “She’s cool, she’ll be over it after a couple of drinks.”

Luke doesn’t even think he says anything coherent when he responds, a grunt or a grumble - it can’t have been words, because he can’t even form them in his brain.

“I’m gonna ask her out tonight, anyway,” Cole chuckles, “So what you said won’t even mean anything.”

Great.

He’s just fucked things up with one of the greatest people in his life, the girl of his dreams, and it doesn’t even mean anything.

Not the kind of girl you date.

Not worth it.

All that from the boy who supposedly had your back not that long ago. The first guy in a long time, maybe even ever, to make you feel secure, and safe, and like you could trust someone again.

Luke thinks you’re an earache.

He thinks you’re argumentative, and only worthy of a brief, summer fling - that keeping up anything with you when he goes home would be a waste of the time and energy he should be dedicating to hockey.

And he’s probably right, you think.

It’s only what you’ve been telling yourself in the back of your mind all summer. Self-deprecating thoughts about how he’s far too good for you, and you’re only interesting when he can’t have you, and he’ll get tired of you before you can even realise he’s already drifted off.

Ellie had told you all the way back in your freshman year that the two of you weren’t a good fit. Jack had been telling Luke the same all summer. And you had only just managed to convince yourself otherwise on the drive back to the lake house from the mall.

You can hardly blame him for being two steps ahead.

You think that’s why you can’t bring yourself to cry - the sting of tears prickling persistently but never pushing through, eyes watering so much you can’t even put on mascara without the fear of it trickling down your face and ruining the rest of your makeup.

You’d tried crying, before. Had ran up to your room and had sat on the other side of your bed, hidden from the door and knees pressed to your chest. Your breath had stuttered, and your lips had trembled, but the tears wouldn’t fall, try as you might to have made them.

And when Ellie had found you, had sat beside you with an arm stretched over your shoulders, you had tried, then, too.

And it would be your luck that as soon as you press the inky substance into your lashes that they would finally fall, so you’ve been sat trying to wish them away for the past ten minutes - the tube clutched in a death grip in your hands as you sit at the makeshift vanity you and Ellie had set up all those weeks ago when you had moved in, taking deep breaths and willing the hurt to go away.

It’s where Luke finds you after knocking with no response - you barely remember hearing it - shuffling wordlessly into the room and perching himself down behind you on the edge of the bed.

You see him in the mirror, your eyes darting away before his can meet them in the reflection, and you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the blow.

“I didn’t mean any of what you heard.”

You breathe out a humourless chuckle, bitterness settling into the pit of your stomach and your lips trembling with resistance.

“I mean it, I don’t think those things about you, I promise, I-,”

“It doesn’t even matter,” you cut him off with a roll your eyes, pushing the mascara tube toward the mirror and figuring you’re just gonna go without.

“I was panicking, and it just came out like word vomit, and I feel really sick about it, and really stupid, and I wish I could take it all back-,”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” You meet his eyes this time, trying not to fall for just how distraught he looks behind you in the mirror.

“Of course it matters,” he frowns, and you look away as soon as he pushes himself up, knowing he’s coming for you. “I need you to know that I would never have said those things-,”

“You said them, Luke,” you scoff, “What do you mean you would never have said them, you literally did.”

“I know-,”

“It doesn’t matter-,”

“Can you stop saying that!” He frowns, appearing at the side of you, hands gripping your shoulders to get you to face him. “I’m trying to explain this to you, I’m trying to fix things, and you’re-,”

“What, giving you an earache?”

All those weeks ago, the backs of your legs sticking to the bench in the booth in the restaurant, leaning over the table and sparring back and forth with him, you had convinced yourself that he liked it.

That the glint in his eye was indication of as much, the twitch at the corner of his lips, the way he would bite back without a second to think about it, and had matched your every effort to get one over on him.

You had thought the two of you had something real. Something you had never found with anyone else. Quick wit, and similar senses of humour, shared boundaries, a mutual level of respect.

You had thought his persistence had been something that would stick.

And clearly, you thought wrong.

He whispers out an utterance of your name that hurts like fingers wrapped around your throat - clenching and squeezing until you go hot in the head.

“I keep saying it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t, Luke. You were right, we wouldn’t have been able to keep this up past the summer, anyway.”

Luke’s brows furrow your way, eyes darting between yours as his lips part to speak, but nothing comes out.

“You’re going back to Jersey soon, I’m going back to school, it was fun while it lasted but things have run their course.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“We both do.” You shrug, wearing your feigned indifference like armour, just like you know so well to do. “You don’t say the things you said on a whim, Luke, some part of you has to believe that they’re true.”

“I don’t-,”

“I’m giving you a chance to cut things off with no hard feelings-,”

“No hard feelings?” His disbelief cuts through you a little, the hurt in his eyes and the scrunch of his features, too, but if you give in, now, you’re setting yourself up for a world of hurt.

You had barely just built up the courage to give your heart to him, in whatever shape he had scrunched and squeezed it into before, and he had already managed to bruise it. Giving in will only result in it breaking.

“I have feelings. I have feelings for you. And I know you have feelings for me, too, you can’t pretend you don’t-,”

“It doesn’t-,”

“It matters.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like this - so sure, so serious, so raw - and when he takes a hold of your face, hands cupping your jaw, tender but firm, and forces you to look at him, you see the same in his features. “Cole is into you. And he said he was gonna ask you out, and I panicked trying to convince him not to. I should have had faith that you would have turned him down. And I should have been honest, and I should have told him that I’m into you. More than into you, I think I-,”

“I wouldn’t have turned him down.”

You lie with such ease that it makes your heart ache more than the truth, but it’s the only thing you can do to protect it.

If you let Luke carry on, you’ll let him back in.

You can’t let him back in.

Not with the tears that now well his eyes, or the way his face drops like you’ve just struck him in the gut - pained and powerless.

“What?”

Your hands shake in your lap so much you have to clench them shut, knuckles turning white as Luke’s touch slips from your skin.

“If he asked me out, I would have said yes.”

Luke runs a hand through his hair, blinking repeatedly before he tears his gaze away from yours, and you feel like you can see his walls building - a sight that should flood you with relief, but doesn’t.

“So, what, everything we’ve been through together, all the things we’ve done, all the things we’ve said, you’re just gonna throw it all away like none of it matters?”

You can hear the hurt - can feel it even, clawing at your skin as if it’s trying to find a way to dig past the barriers you’ve put in place.

But you have to do this.

“I guess not.”

Luke was always going to hurt you. Was going to burrow himself through whatever cracks you left bare to him, weasel his way into your heart and tear it from the inside out. And maybe you were always going to do the same to him.

“Alright then,” he mutters, robotic and distant, with his eyes stuck on the floor.

He stands from where he had been crouched beside you, backing away before turning completely, and he walks away in long strides, the door to your bedroom closing with a soft click behind him.

The tear that falls when he’s gone does so slowly. You feel it trail all the way down your cheek from the corner of your eye, until it drops, almost audibly, from your jaw and onto your lap.

And then the rest follow, uncontrollable and unrelenting.

Inevitable, just like he had said.

A/N: so...... please don't hate me I wrote the ending first lmao!! I imagine this will cause riots in the streets tbh but please let me know what you think hahahah this whole story has become my baby!! she's problematic but she's mine!!!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #*writing #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes fanfiction

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dollishmehrayan · 26 days ago

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# BATBOYS WITH BRAZILIAN!READER HCS ── .✦ ( batboys with a Brazilian s/o, requested!)

a/n: request by this anon (here) and a second anon (which I’ll theyre request even though it’s the same I’ll be doing it for them too as in a Damian focused one) also please reblog/like for some engagement tysm <3, also i’m thinking of doing different batboys separate hcs and like yk fics instead of all them together because I kinda don’t want to be reduced to that yk?? But it’s like the most posts that get engagement so I rlly can’t be mad at something that makes me get most attention, tags: (batboys x Brazilian!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick is obsessed with how expressive you are, he adores how easily you switch between Portuguese and English. He tries to pick up a few phrases to impress you, though he’s definitely not as smooth as he thinks.

“Oi, amor, tudo bem?” He says, thinking he nailed it. “...Wait, did I just call you my love?”

He takes you on regular dates to the best Brazilian restaurants, but when you ask for cachaça or caipirinha, he looks at you like you just asked him to jump off a building.

“Uh… we’re not old enough for that, are we?” “Dick your 27 for crying out loud.”

But when you insist, he’s just charmed by the way you argue with him, and tries (unsuccessfully) to keep up with your energy.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason absolutely loves your Brazilian food—specifically, feijoada and pão de queijo. He’s always asking you to make them, even though he tries to act like he’s not obsessed with it.

“I’m just saying, if you made this for me every day, I wouldn’t complain. Just don’t tell anyone that.”

He’s so proud of your Portuguese skills, and loves hearing you speak it. But when you use slang or curse words, he pretends to be all scandalized “why would you say that *gasp*” even though he secretly finds it adorably tough.

“Hey, is that how you really talk? That’s, uh, pretty intense. Kinda hot, though.”

Your energy and joy rub off on him, and despite his grumpy nature, he can’t help but smile when you’re around. He secretly loves it when you speak Portuguese, especially when you're excited.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim can’t resist asking you about Brazilian pop culture, especially when you’re watching Brazilian shows or listening to Brazilian music even when you tell him to not translate the meaning of some songs.

“Okay, okay, I have to know… how does that work? What’s this soap opera about?”

Your dance moves are a bit of a mystery to him at first, but when you teach him a little samba or forró, he’s lowkey impressed (and laughs when he messes it up).

“You know what? I’ll stick to solving crimes, you handle the dancing.” (He dances like a white boy so much in some white club😭)

He loves the idea of you sharing bits of your culture with him, especially when you teach him some Portuguese slang. But when you start using it against him, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or pretend he didn’t understand.

“Wait, wait, you just called me that?! But I thought I was your… Wait, hold on. I need a dictionary.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is fascinated by the fierceness of Brazilian culture—he admires your independence and the way you carry yourself.

You make pão de queijo one morning, and he's convinced it’s some magical food that might give him new abilities. He eats it while muttering about the mysterious "power" of Brazilian cuisine.

“This… this isn’t regular bread. It’s—“ He pauses mid-bite. “I can feel stronger already.” “Damian, it’s just food.”

Damian gets a bit possessive about your accent, secretly thinking it sounds regal. He’ll make comments like, “I’ve never heard anyone speak so commandingly in Portuguese.”

If anyone flirts with you, he’s immediately in ‘protective mode,’ trying to act cool, but it’s clear he’s not happy. If anyone flirts in Portuguese to you? It’s a whole other level of intensity for him.

“You will not talk to her in that language in-front of me.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce doesn’t really get what’s so special about Brazilian music, but when you play some Bossa Nova, he ends up listening to it when he’s working. It makes him feel at peace.

“I don’t know how you do it, but this music calms me down in ways I didn’t expect.”

He’ll take you to exclusive Brazilian art exhibits, but he can’t help but feel like he's failing because he doesn’t know anything about Brazilian art or culture. But that’s okay—he'll always make sure you have everything you need.

“I might not understand all of it, but I can tell it means a lot to you. That’s enough.”

He loves how you bring excitement into his sometimes dreary world. When you talk about your hometown or culture, it’s like a breath of fresh air to him.

“You’re one of a kind.” *cue Alfred preparing Bruce’s list for him😭*

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sixpennydame · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 // 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

This is the final installment to my 30 day drabble challenge, hosted by @thedrabblecollective - I enjoyed developing this story over the month of November and appreciate all the kind comments and reblogs. <3

The Little Things Masterlist

Levi should have asked for more than two months time off. It had gone by in a flash, and now it was time for him to return to Survey Corps Headquarters. The night before he was to leave, you’d been quieter than usual, your eyes avoiding his gaze. When he could take it no longer, he corners you in the kitchen after putting the baby down for the evening.

”Oi, what’s going on with you?” Levi turns you to face him.

“It’s just…I couldn’t have done all of this without you.”

”Sure you could have.”

”Well, maybe I could have, but it would have been a much more difficult task. Having you through the pregnancy and then during these two months has been so wonderful, I…” you hesitate, searching for the right words, “…don’t want to see you go.”

Levi fills in the blanks of what you’re not saying.

“Hey.” He lifts your chin to look at him. “I’m going back to Headquarters because I have to, but I’m not leaving you two.”

Of course you’d be afraid, he thought. You’ve already lost a husband.

How could he reassure you? These feelings are so new to him, he doesn’t quite know how to communicate it.

But he tries.

“I’m not perfect. I’ve been told I’m an asshole on more than one occasion, and it’s probably true. I’ve dedicated my strength to the Survey Corps for as long as Erwin needs me, and to be honest, it’ll probably kill me one day.”

He takes your hand and holds it close to his heart.

“But I care for you. Deeply.” He looks over at the sleeping babe. “Both of you. And if you’ll have me, I promise to stay committed to you and protect you for as long as this life allows.”

Walls, why is his heart beating so fast?

Just last year, Levi was a stranger to you; practically a legend known only through stories. But now, looking into his stormy blue eyes, you now know that he’s just a man — an imperfect man who chose to be with you through your most difficult moments and that you now choose to love wholeheartedly.

Your free hand moves to cup his cheek, which feels flushed and hot.

“Yes,” you answer, “we’ll have you.”

—//—

#drabblechallenge2024 #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi fluff #sixpennydame drabble challenge 2024 #sixpennydame The Little Things

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Retrogradation

Warnings: non/dubcon, coercion and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Retrogradation - a backward movement. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This isn’t how you saw things going. Nothing ever really goes how you expect. You think you’d be used to it by now. That after all the disappointment, you would give up hope. You tried that too but it still hurts.

You pull the blanket over the couch. You don’t anticipate a good sleep. The springs are broken and squeaky and the cushions not quite thick enough to pad the jabbing metal. You can’t complain, it’s somewhere to lay your head. That morning, you didn’t have even that.

You try to fluff up the slightly dingy pillow. You just as sad for your brother as for yourself. This isn’t anyway to live. Thin walls, noisy neighbours, and that constant stale smell that doesn’t go away. Even so, you won’t spurn his kindness. It’s all you have.

You can at least be grateful for the solitude. He left about an hour ago, said he’d be back in a few hours. You didn’t ask why. He’s an adult and you’re sure he has more to worry about than his errant sister.

Before you can recline, footsteps make their way steadily down the hall. You stop and listen, watching the crack beneath door. For a moment, you think it’s just your brother but the knock that follows assures you otherwise. He wouldn’t do that.

Hm. Maybe you should ignore it. If it’s his friend, they might assume that he’s not there. They knock again. It would be rude to not answer. What if it’s an emergency?

You get up and cross to the door. You pause for just a moment as you think about how short your pajamas are. How the top is a bit too loose so that the top button hangs a bit lower than it should. They won’t think about that.

You open the door and choke on your voice. You’re so stunned to see Mr. Smith there, you’re certain you’re dreaming. You must have fallen asleep and not even realised. You stare as his lashes flick to mirror your surprise.

“Eh, think I might have the wrong place,” he says. “Sorry, love.”

“That’s quite alright. It’s... do you remember me, Mr. Smith?”

“Oh, yes, I do recall,” his cheek twitches, “you moved on from the kiosk, yes?”

“I moved to the home store, sir,” you explain. He was a regular down at the south end location when you worked at the small coffee pop-up near the train station. “How are you doing?”

He looks back and forth evasively and fixes his glasses, “very good, love. As ever.” He turns back to you. “And you...” his eyes wander up the splintering door frame, “suppose serving medium roast to the masses doesn’t pay much.”

“It’s money. This... I’m...” you’re suddenly very self-conscious. Having to say it aloud is harder than you expect. “My brother’s letting me stay over. Just until I find a new place.”

“Oi? What happened then?” He asks with a tweaked brow.

“Evicted. They’re upgrading my flat to let at a higher price.”

“Hm, I don’t think that’s very legal.”

“I didn’t either,” you shrug. “Anyhow, I hope you find whoever you’re looking for.”

“Me too. Say, I know it’s not your neighbourhood but you wouldn’t happen to know where I might find a lad by the name of Alex?”

“Alex?” You echo and add your last name. “That’s my brother. How do you know him?”

His blue eyes flicker and he takes a deep breath. His cheek ticks again. He smooths his hand over his slicked back hair.

“Is he in?” He asks.

“Not at the moment. Can I help? I can tell him you stopped by.” You offer.

“Mm, well, it’s rather urgent. Any way you can tell me where he is?”

You frown, “I can give him a call but I don’t know where he’s off to.”

“That’ll do then.”

There’s a solemnness to his agreement. He hardly seems happy about your solution. It is rather late. You suppose he doesn’t want to be waiting around all night.

“Would you like to wait inside?” You ask.

His cheek dimples and gives a single nod, “alright then.”

You step back as he enters. You spin in search of your phone as the door clicks shut gently. You scoop up your phone and filter through for your brother’s number. You tap call and put the phone to your ear. Your keenly aware of Mr. Smith pacing by the door. It must be urgent with how restless he is.

No pick up. You try a second time to the same end. You leave a voice mail then text for good measure. You shrug as you face Mr. Smith.

“Sorry, sir, he’s not pickin’ up. Should I tell him you stopped by?”

“Mm, you think he’ll be back soon?”

“Well, he left a bit ago. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. If you want to stick around, I guess you can.”

“Sorry if I'm imposing. I don’t mean to.”

“No, it’s fine. Not my place,” you go to the couch and fold up the blanket and stack it on the pillow. You turn back to him once more. “Would you like a cuppa? I think Alex’as at least a few bags in the cupboard.”

“Thank you but I’m alright,” he waves you off. “Your brother... you’re close to him?”

“Erm, he’s my brother. We’ve not been very chummy since we were kids,” you shrug. You notice how his eyes flit around the room. You squint. “Are you looking for something?”

His blue eyes meet yours. His jaw ticks and a dire shadow fills his eyes. You squirm.

“You’ve any idea what business your brother’s mixed up with?” He asks.

You swallow and shake your head, “he works down at the garage, I think.”

“Oh, does he? And he lives here? Known some mechanics in my day, they take home a decent pay,” he says. “Yet he’s livin’ in a slum like this.”

“Well, er, I...” a trickle flows down your spine. “Mr. Smith, why are you looking for me brother?”

His eyes drop and he tilts his head. He sighs. He tucks his hands into his pockets before he looks at your again.

“He’s taken something from me.”

You stare at him. His tone, his posture, his very gaze, you know what he truly means. Alex has stolen from him. But what?

“Well, why don’t we have a look around and see if we can find it--” you suggest.

“That won’t do. It isn’t the sort of thing you just give back and call it even,” he says dully. His demeanour shifts with his timbre. He steps closer and you shy away. “And I’m not the sort to let that sort of thing go.”

You know Alex lies. You know better than to buy into his stories but you wanted to believe. You wanted to hope. Still, even after all is lost, you really, truly wanted it all to turn out.

“Oh,” you swallow.

“You see, he’s crossed me. I’m not a man to be crossed and this isn’t it about getting back what he stole. It’s about the principle of it all. About teaching him a lesson,” he comes close until you have nowhere to go. Until he is right in front of you and the couch is against your legs. “I really wish you hadn’t have been here, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open. His words are like a punch in the gut. You expect worse than that by the gleam in his eyes.

“Mr. Smith, please, you don’t have to--”

“You don’t get it. It’s not up to me,” he grabs you by the neck and you cry out.

You bat your lashes at him as your eyes glisten. You don’t fight. You can’t. No matter what you do, you lose. Whether it’s him, your landlord, or life in general.

He pushes you until you sit. His grip tightens for an instant than eases. He inhales through his nose so it flares out.

“Will you listen?” He asks. You lower your eyes and nod. He sees right through you. He already knows you’re weak. “Alright then, don’t pull nothing.”

He rescinds his hand. Your skin tingles where his fingers had dug in. He reaches to your top button, undoing it with both hands. You shudder and let out a squeak. He continues down the shirt and lets go. The fabric opens around your naked torso.

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the tailored weave of his pants. He brushes his fingertips along your hairline and down your cheek. You lock up as his touch continues down your neck and wanders along your chest. He fondles your naked tits as your top slumps down your shoulders.

“Get up.”

You stand as he backs up. He grabs your upper arms and turns you with him. He takes your place on the couch. He sits back and braces his thighs.

“Finish it. Everything off.”

You nod and keep your head down. You shrug off the shirt and untie your shorts. You shimmy them down and kick them away.

Your eyes are drawn up by his movement. You waver as you notice his open fly. He strokes himself above the rich brown fabric of his pants. You press your hands to your stomach and shudder.

“Get on me,” he orders.

You sway and dare to bring your eyes up to his face. You don’t understand. Mr. Smith was always so polite. He always tipped and wished you a good day. Why would he do this?

“Bad luck, that’s all it is,” he assures you. “Isn’t my fault, eh? Blame your thief of a brother.”

You gulp and step up. You bend and grab his shoulders. You feel as if you might collapse at any moment. He latches onto your hip with one hand and guides you down. You ease yourself down and wince as his tip brushes between your folds. You whimper.

He lines up with your entrance and pushes you down. You stretch around him as you whine. Your voice grows louder and louder with each inch. Your tears leak out and you puff through your teeth. You’re set alight by the shame that underlines your pain. You won’t even resist. Like everything in life, you just let it happen.

He takes your hand and lifts it to his cheek. He leans his jaw into your palm so his beard tickles you. He holds you like that as he rocks your hips. You roll against him, following his motion as you weep softly. He groans and bites his lip.

You hang your head as you give yourself over to him. You snivel as your core swirls with heat and your skin speckles hotly. You bring your free hand up to wipe your nose.

“Sir, does this—will this--” you can barely speak or think, “my brother...”

He growls and pulls your hand further, hooking your arm around his neck as he forces you closer.

“I’m still going to break his fucking hands,” he snarls. “But I think I’ll keep you too. Show him what it’s like to lose something.”

You sob and nod. He runs his hand away from yours and up your arm. He nudges your chin up as he keeps your hips moving.

He groans and grunts through shallow breaths, “don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Better than this heap.”

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #pajama party #sleepover #drabble

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dollwrites · 3 months ago

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ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ʜɪs sᴛᴇᴀᴋ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴋᴜʀᴇ ʀᴀɪᴀɴ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!kure!reader, incest ( big brother / little sister ), noncon, reader cries but it’s not really dacryphilia, raian’s a meanie : (, extortion / blackmail, forced ( in ) breeding, the word rape is used. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act eleven [ incest ]

“Oi, oi, oi, oi, the fuck are you cryin’ for?” Raian taunts against the shell of your ear, even though you knew that he already knew the reason. it was because he was, before anything else, a bully. whether it be to his own family or randos off the street, he liked to torment everyone, and you— his darling little sister, was no exception. “Thought you liked when your big, bad brother took care a’ya. You’re always begging me to, aintcha?” the pads of his thick fingers were irreparably calloused and rough as they creep up from behind your hair and trace your jaw, before diving down to coil around the smaller column of your neck, using the firm grip to pluck your wet face from the pillows where you’d been trying to bury it. “Look here.”

but it was difficult to keep your eyes from squinting with each, deep thrust, as your brother buried his thick cock into you from behind. “R—Raian—“ all you could manage through broken moans and labored breath were the syllables that formed his name, eyelids fluttering as he pulls your head back, angling it up towards the ceiling— towards he who mounted you. “This… is wrong…”

but Raian didn’t seem the least bit offended. in fact, a cocky grin tickled his lips, urging them back to reveal sharp teeth. “Boo hoo,” he boasted his strength by holding you in place with his hand on your throat, the sheer length of his fingers enough to cover your lower mandible so the tips slid into your open mouth when you panted and mewled. you could taste old blood under his nails, and you knew it wasn’t his. “Don’t cry about it, I’ll lose my hardon.” but that seemed impossible, because he was as solid as stone, driving himself into your depths with relentless, ravenous rutting. the tips of his fingers anchor themselves beneath your lolling tongue, pressing against the floor of your jaw as he plowed you, grunting like a wild boar. “Besides, what can you do? Beg me to stop destroying your little pussy? After all big brother does for you?”

your more delicate fingers clench weak fistfuls of the sheets on Raian’s bed, your sharp nails leaving broken threads and pin-prick sized holes when he seizes inside of you, pushing all of his weight down against your sweaty back, filling you to the brim with cock. more tears welled up in your eyes, mourning for your poor pussy, but the way Raian controlled the lower half of your face, pulling it around as if you were a fish on a hook, you knew better than to let them break surface. so, you sniffled, squirmed under the heat and weight of his body, and shook your head no to his question. you knew this was wrong— hell, it was a disgusting feeling, to get so wet that you squelched every time your brother pushed into you, but you wouldn’t beg him to stop.

no, you couldn’t.

“That’s what I thought!” Raian bellowed, the glorious victor, as he fucked you with reckless abandon. his free hand giving your round ass a stinging slap. you hissed, the sound coming out gurgled and helpless, drooling on his fingers as you did so. “After all, you stop givin’ up your tight fuckmeat to me, and Pops just might find out about our little arrangement. Might just tell him all about how you can’t make a kill…” his voice is ragged, trailing off as his shoulders hunch and he lays his broad chest to your back. you felt as if you were being crushed by his sticky, sweaty body. you couldn’t breathe, and the deep, hard fucking he was giving you only made it that much harder, so you gasped and swallowed as much air as you could, braying, but in your own mind, you hated how it sounded. you sounded like a bitch that was eager and happy to be bred when you made those noises. Raian pressed his open mouth to your cheek, and when he spoke, his tongue undulated, slurping up stray tears. “You’ve been asking your big brother to do all your assignments so you don’t get exiled… or worse. Come to think of it, Pops probably wouldn’t even want you walkin’ around, giving the Kure Clan a weak rep, he’d most likely just have one of us kill ya. Isn’t that right?”

you didn’t have to answer that, Raian was using the grip on your mouth to nod your head for you. “Worst part is, the old bastard would most likely make me do it, and the idea of slaughtering my favorite, little fucktoy— my baby sister, it pisses me off. So, I’ll keep being a good big brother, and I’ll take all your assignments, so long as you keep being the best little sister, and spreading your legs whenever I need to drain my balls.”

you groan, eyes wide, at his words and stare up at him. you could feel the way his cock throbbed in your guts, twitching with imminent release, and you offer a pathetic, half-assed plea, “N—not inside this time, p—please?”

but Raian cackled at that. “What? You scared of getting knocked up?�� his smile was wide and toothy, his free hand running up to pin your shoulders down, smashing your front into the mattress as he gets in a better position to fill you up. “Doesn’t Pops always preach about ‘keeping the Kure bloodline pure’ and all that shit? What’s purer than my load filling up your guts, little sis?”

it was a cruel, cruel way to reject your request, and before you know it, you could feel rope after rope of warmth, splattering your insides. you whine in defeat, burying your face in the pillows, but this time Raian lets you. in fact, he helps, releasing your mouth to palm the back of your head like a basketball and force it down so he could completely dominate you from this angle. “Whiny, little brat.” he grunted with a heavy sigh, wide chest heaving wildly. “But you’ve always liked sleepovers with me. I can tell you still do.” Raian leans back on his haunches, releasing you from your weighted cage, to admire the puddle of girlcum you also left on his sheets. he knew they’d smell just like your sweet pussy, and the urge to bury his nose in them and drink in the aroma was almost overwhelming. he restrains himself for now, scoffing as your thighs quiver— the vibration from your muscle spasms pushing webs of his spunk from your clenching cunt, and he gives the underside of your thigh a rough smack for good measure. “And you still cum when I rape you, huh? That’s a good sign. Means you know where you belong.” he chuckles in a raspy, breathy croak before adding, “Hangin’ off my cock like a little sex doll.”

#kure raian x reader #kure raian #raian smut #raian x reader #raian x you #kengan ashura x reader #kengan ashura smut #kenganverse #kengan ashura #kengan x reader #kengan x you #kengan smut

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tetzoro · 1 year ago

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WAVES OF PASSION — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after teasing each other all day, you and zoro finally come to a point. question is, who will cave first ?

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, alcohol consumption, alcohol play, zoro and reader are a little tipsy (dubcon?), use pet names (baby, good girl), dry humping, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, unprotected sex, light impact play (slaps your ass once), light praise, creampie, lot of teasing, yall are both stubborn — WC : 3.7k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : a big thank u to nesi for listening to me scream about this for the last 3 days . and for coming up with the name :3 couldn’t have channeled my insanity for this man without her !! please enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

the infamous game of cat and mouse. a push and pull. a tango you and zoro often take part in, dancing until your bodies flush together only to be torn away with a smug look, challenge simmering in the others eyes.

both of you are too stubborn to give in to the other, leaving nothing but fleeting touches upon each other's skin and sinful words curling around your ears, dizzying your minds and driving you both up the wall.

the tension drawing so thin it was bound to snap, it was only a matter of when.

“come lay your head in my lap, zo.” you call out to your lover who was mindlessly nursing a bottle of sake. the fact he hadn’t finished it yet floored you, but you can only assume that wasn’t his first.

“what? no.” zoro blushes a little, cheeks turning red from the booze and the way you coo’d at him. he looks around, watching everyone still partying on the sunny, paying you both no mind as you’re tucked further away from them now.

the party started hours ago, luffy insisting that it was time to celebrate their latest victory. everyone was having a good time but as time chipped away, all you could do was reach for the love of your life, yearning for his attention.

“c’mon.” you whine, still tasting the alcohol you had earlier on your tongue. an idea pops into your head and you can’t help but smirk, moving your body so you were sitting up straight. “baby, let’s drink together.”

it never failed to make you smile whenever you called zoro ‘baby’. the way his ears would perk up before the tips dusted pink, his attention fully on you even if he wasn’t directly looking.

“thought you’d never ask.” he gives a half smile, bringing his sake bottle towards you. you pat your lap, insinuating what you had asked of him earlier. “i’m not gonna do that.”

“please?” you bat your eyelashes at him. a cruel act on your part. zoro would like to believe that he wouldn’t fall for your little vixen tricks, but the alcohol swirled in his mind, body already aching to touch you.

“fine.” he huffs, sitting down on the floor and pressing his back against your legs, head hesitantly resting on your lap. “now what?”

“give me your sake bottle.” you hold out your hand, the other weaving through his soft green locks, lightly scratching his head in a way that had him fluttering his eye shut.

“no way.” he clutched onto the damned thing more, leaning his head up for a moment to take a swig. but you’re quick, snatching it from his hands. “OI!”

“lay back down.” you say, almost amused by the irritation in his gaze. whatever he was thinking he decided to bite it back down, muttering under his breath before resting his head back on your lap. “now, open your mouth.”

“the hell do you want from me, woman?” zoro huffed, but ultimately obliged. no matter how hard he tried, he could never say no to you.

“keep it open, i’m gonna pour some in.” after a moment, he felt sake pour onto his tongue. on instinct, he started swallowing it down while you waterfalled it into his mouth, your other hand still woven in his hair.

you pull back, knowing he could take more — and probably wanted to — but you needed to see his reaction, see how much he enjoyed it.

and you weren’t disappointed.

“why’d you stop?” his head lays firmly in your lap now, only moving it slightly so he can look up at you.

“oh, so you liked it?” you tease, trying to draw the confession out of him.

“a weird way to drink but sake is sake.” he shrugs.

“oh come on.” you roll your eyes, moving to rest the bottle on the bench beside you. but zoro’s hand snaps up, lightly wrapping around your wrist before you can set it down.

“i didn’t say stop.” zoro says before expectedly opening his mouth.

“only if you say you like it.” you push, bottle hovering, the liquid almost slipping out of the top and into his awaiting mouth — he can almost taste it. frustration glosses over him for a moment but he knew what he had to do to get what he wanted.

“fine, i like it.” you hum knowingly at him, the sake fell from the bottle and into his mouth, drinking another gulp of it. this time, you don’t stop.

the liquid flows from the sides of his mouth, running down his neck and along his bare, heaving chest. you watch it weave and pool between his taut muscles, licking your lips as it streams down over his perked nipple.

it’s distracting, the way his body looks paired with the soft grunts he was making as he chugs has your already altered mind spinning. he looked good.

“damn woman, you trying to kill me?” zoro asks. you didn’t realize he swiped the bottle back, breathing heavily, lustful gaze set onto you. he rises up, towering over where you were still seated.

“oh, suddenly you can’t handle your liquor?” you poke, trying to gulp down your own desires. but it was impossible with the way he was looking down at you, prey set in the predators eyes. he just scoffs, small smirk taking up his face.

“you’re always running that mouth of yours.” he grins, pulling you up off your feet. “better find a better use for it.”

in the little area you and zoro had taken residence, it was tucked away enough for you to steal some of his affection. normally, he wasn’t big on PDA but nights like these he was a little more lenient with a little bit of alcohol running through his veins, coated in the lust he held for you.

so you take a leap, stepping closer so your bodies pressed up against each other, tongue poking out as you lick up the sake still running along his throat. he all but gasps, your boldness taking him off guard. you stop at his collarbone, pressing a light kiss onto it.

“like that?” you purr, looking up at him again, mischief swimming in your eyes. a look he loved to extinguish before morphing them into stars as he has his way with you.

“little minx.” he breathes out, his voice so deep you feel it buzz against your skin. “let’s go.”

“go where?” you tilt your head, trying to play coy. he wasn’t having any of that, not now. he quickly tosses you over his shoulder, ignoring the way you squeaked at him, opting to give your ass a light tap instead.

“somewhere where you can finish cleaning the mess you made.” he starts walking, grabbing another sake bottle as he passes one. “and then i’d like to try that little game on you next.”

the two of you ended up in the crows nest, far removed from everyone else. zoro liked it up here anyway, one of his favorite spots on the ship.

the moonlight filters through the windows and pools into the room, casting its soft glow over everything in sight. you watch as it trails along the surface of the benches, illuminating off of the workout equipment zoro left behind from earlier. you couldn’t help but walk towards the window, hoping to get a peek at the moon itself, but a voice cuts through the air interrupting your little plan.

“come here.” he demands, putting the bottle of sake down with a thump. you whirl around, amusement dancing in your irises. you don’t make any movement to obey, opting to stay put instead.

with a sigh, zoro stalks towards you, a dangerous look in his eye before he crashes his lips against yours. the ferocity behind it causes a moan to slip past, only making it worse — zoro’s fingers digging into your hips.

he doesn’t let up, air be damned as he continues to kiss you.

“you drive me crazy.” zoro groans loudly into the kiss, sitting back onto the bench, trying to pull you with him. you pull apart, teasing smirk on your lips as his mouth chases yours.

“quiet, zoro. don’t want anyone to hear you.” you graze your thumb over his tender, swollen lips, watching him with half-lidded eyes – an expression he easily mirrors back. lust filled eyes share a moment before something snaps in him – the fog clearing in his mind as he processes the tone of your voice. but you just kept running that sweet mouth of yours. “unless you want everyone to hear how much you like when i —.”

“enough.” his lips are on yours again, kissing you with a bruising force as his hands freely roam around your body, squeezing along it as he goes. you drown under the ministrations, his demanding aura easily overtaking yours as an aching need starts to settle in between your thighs.

the kiss only grows more heated with each passing moment – the tension long since dissolving into the room making everything sticky with desire. zoro effortlessly pulls you down into his lap now, not missing a beat as his lips continue to glide over yours, tongues swirling together as he gets drunk on your touch.

the strap from your dress falls to your shoulders, zoro taking the opportunity to smother the area with his lips, exaggerated kisses along the bare skin, licking his way back up your neck.

“taste s’good.” his voice is rough, coarse – similar to the way the seas would get when they’re trying to pull the sunny into their tide. but you weren't as resilient as your beloved ship, surrendering into the whims of the man before you, letting him have his way with you as long as he kept talking to you like you were the most treasured thing in his world.

need pulses through his length as it presses up against your core, begging to be free from its confines. his hips stutter up, chasing the sensation, craving it in ways he can only feel when he’s under your spell. it’s not enough, he needs more. as if you could read his mind, you start to slowly grind against his length, the thin underwear you had on left nothing to his imagination, he could feel how wet you were for him already.

large palms slide up over your chest, fingers trailing over the flimsy fabric that covered them, easily yanking down your dress, letting it pool around your waist. he continues onward, kissing back down your neck and over your collarbones – making sure to coat you in his sake infused saliva.

it only gave him an idea when he finally reached your breasts, wrapping his mouth around your nipple, groaning with satisfaction as he satiated his oral fixation for a moment. eye flashing over to the sake bottle he had put down earlier. one hand pushes down on your hip so you can control your pace, the other reaches for it, clasping around it and bringing it towards you.

“you made a mess earlier.” he says lowly, tongue poking out to trace along the edges your perked bud. “told you i was going to return the favor.”

the chill of sake runs over your skin, trailing down your neck to your chest, following the heated trail that zoro had set before it. his tongue easily chases upward, lapping up every drop before it could splash down to your waist and stain your pretty dress.

“zoro!” you gasp out, fingers quickly finding purchase in his hair as his mouth returns to your breasts. “it’s cold.”

“yeah?” he takes a swig from the bottle before bringing it up to your lips so you can steal a sip. the liquid runs down your throat, his eye trained on the way it constricts when you swallow. “what do you want me to do about it?”

the question was a statement in disguise, another way for him to challenge you. but your resolve was weak, need bubbling up and spilling over your whole body in a tremor. zoro only grows impatient, missing the friction of you moving along his body. his hands grip your waist again, encouraging you to keep going.

“c’mon.” you tug on his shoulders, trying to bring him even closer. but it wasn’t enough – wasn’t going to be enough until he was deep inside of you, giving you exactly what you needed right now. he knew by the whine in your voice what you wanted, but he had enough of your teasing for the night. it was time for you to grovel, to play the fool begging for his touch, prey caught in the claws of its predator.

“what?” zoro asks, hands running up behind your back. he was too good at playing stupid sometimes, coming off as a brute who didn't know how to read people when in fact it was the exact opposite. weeks of getting to know you intimately burned into his mind, studying your reactions when he’d touch you in a certain way, kiss you a certain way. all of it stored behind the steely gaze he sets on the world. “you didn’t answer my question.”

everything in you screams not to fall into his trap, to feed into the game you’ve been playing all day. but your resolve was cracking down the middle with each passing moment, and you knew his had to be too.

zoro slips off his bottoms as you eagerly brush his opened robe off his shoulders, palms gliding over his taut muscles that ripple under your touch, shuddering at the soothing sensation. the dress remains pooled at your hips but zoro easily rids you of your panties, fingers pressing against your slick folds.

but two can play that game. you reach for his cock, watching droplets of precum pool at the top before rubbing it along his tip. he jerks into your hand with a strangled moan of your name, finger slipping into you in the process. you gasp out at the welcomed intrusion, hips moving on their own accord as you seek more friction.

slowly pumping your fist over his cock, you don’t break eye contact with him. he adds another finger, the sound of your sopping cunt filling the room. zoro presses his lips against yours before you twist your wrist the way he likes it — mouth hanging open as he lets out a guttural groan.

you push him back so he’s flush against the wall, sliding yourself so you're seated over his cock, arousal coating his length. you both groan at the contact, so close to what you both desire but still not close enough – neither ready to fully cave in yet, secretly begging the other to make the first move.

but you know his weakness, pressing a kiss along his jaw, moving up until your nose lightly brushes against his earrings, working your hips back and forth to make sure his cock was fully saturated in your essence.

zoro was squirming beneath you, his grip on your hips so tight you're sure it’ll bruise tomorrow, but it’s all worth it if you get him to crack. groans dripping from his lips sweeter than anything you’ve ever heard before.

“that all you got?” he rasps out, not knowing how much he’ll come to regret those words. you just give him one of your saccharine smiles. the man may have never been a fan of sweets but he’d fall for that grin anytime, absolutely mystified at how easy it is for him to fall under your spell.

“see that?” you tease, rubbing your slick folds over his cock head. he couldn’t help but thrust a bit, the sensation too overwhelming. “watch closely, watch your cock disappear.”

“you a magician now or —.” zoro starts, cutting himself off with a loud groan as you slowly slid down into him and sure enough, his cock started to disappear in you.

“feel good?” your palms spread across his chests, fingers barely brushing along his nipple that has him arching his back slightly — the sensitivity rippling through him.

he ignores you, trying to thrust his hips up, gain friction, do something to chase the feeling that was currently simmering just beyond his grasp.

“no, if you want this then we’re gonna do it my way.” zoro's cock is fully seated in you, but you haven’t let him move yet. you weren’t planning on it either. “you don’t get to make the rules.”

“shut up.” he barks, trying to wiggle free so he can pound into you like his instincts are begging him to. you can tell he’s frustrated, his pride nipping at him. he doesn’t lack the strength to flip you but he still hasn’t made his move yet.

“what do you want zoro?” you tease, digging your nails into his torso and lightly dragging them all the way down before pressing them into his hip. he hissed at the sting, hips stuttering as it chases friction. “you need to learn how to use your words.”

zoro doesn’t like that, finally lifting you off of him and pivoting you around so your knees are on the bench, hands gripping the back of them as you’re finally able to look out the window.

the moon was hung up just where you thought it would be, but the moment was short lived, a small but stern tap on your ass brought you back to what was at stake.

“fuck that,” he growls in your ear, biting against the lobe before standing up straight and pulling his hips back so his tip is prodding your entrance once again. the loss was monumental and now you were the one squirming for more. “now look at who the desperate one is.”

“so you admit you were desperate for me?” your breathless laugh turns into a moan as his cock runs along your folds, collecting more of your essence, dragging it all out even more than before.

“never said that.” he grumbled, lining himself up at your entrance once again, ready to sink back into you and give into his carnal desires. he just needs to hear you ask for it first.

zoro holds his breath as he watches your body shiver in anticipation before pushing in, not giving you anymore that just a taste.

he pulls back out, watching as his tip glistens with your essence.

“zoro.” you clench your jaw, nails digging into the bench. the world stops for a moment as it waits for your call, the one that will finally give you what you want. one word, six letters. “please.”

he lets out a breathy chuckle, sinks all the way inside of you, bottoming out even deeper than before, moaning in unison. the swordsman doesn’t waste another second before slamming back into you, setting a steady pace as all inhibitions cast away.

“you’re so fucking stubborn.” he grits out, each word paired with a deep thrust. “you know that?”

“me?” you gasp out, walls fluttering around him, clenching against him so tightly. “you’re the stubborn one.”

zoro just grunts out, gripping onto your hips as he chases his end. all day you’ve been teasing him — the lingering touches on his shoulders, the soft, breathy giggles you’d let out by his ear, chills coating his skin.

and now he finally has you where he wants you, under him and taking him like the good girl you are.

his fingers dance along your clit, electricity rushing throughout your body, running along each of your nerves before bursting at the ends.

zoro couldn’t stop pounding into you, his cock pulsing with desire, anchoring his hands on your hips and using it to guide you back to him.

“yeah, just like that.” zoro groaned out, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he watches you begin to take over, fucking yourself back onto his cock. the sight of your cunt enveloping his cock will never fail to make his head spin.

“close—“ it’s the only word you can spit out right now, letting him know you’re almost there, right at the edge. the side of your face is firmly pressed onto the bench while zoro's pace never lets up. in fact, you think you can feel him go faster — deeper.

“go ahead and let go for me then.” one of his arms snakes around your waist, pulling you up so your back is flush against his back. the shift brought you over the edge, throwing your head back against him as you let out a moan of his name. “good girl, good fucking girl.”

as you come down, he speeds up, chasing the release he’s been staving off. after a few more precise strokes, he shoves himself as deeply as possible, filling you up with a low grunt of your name.

you fall limp against him, head resting on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. zoro wasn’t fairing much better, you could feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, heart hammering against your back.

he slowly sets you down, legs shaking as soon as you touch down, leaning onto him to keep you steady — a job he’d do time after time, pride swelling in his chest everytime.

zoro wasn’t always the best with words after the two of you finished, instead he found unspoken reassurance easier. his large hand cradles your face, a soft expression coating his features as he searches your eyes.

he could read you fairly easily, know when something was amiss. his shoulders sag as he finds only adoration in your eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“pretty baby.” the words so hushed you almost miss it, heat flushing to your cheeks at the soft praise. the two of you stand in each other's arms for awhile, your head opting to rest on his chest while you simmer down.

“we should probably head back down.” you sigh, breaking the silence, knowing it’s only a matter of time before luffy starts looking for you guys. you quickly slip the straps to your dress back over your shoulders.

zoro nods, but his gaze was set on your thighs, watching your mixed cum slowly drip down between them, the substance glistening in the moonlight. his cheeks were dusted red, mouth hanging open as he takes in the sight.

“or.” he says, fingers catching the mixture before sliding it back up into its proper place. you gasp as he shoves it back in, attention now set on you. “we could stay up here a little longer. we still have that bottle to finish and i’m definitely not done with you yet.”

thank you for reading :3

tags : @honeybleed @heart-of-trafalgar @astroelbow @eelnoise @kakashineedstotouchgrass @teffyx @latinokokonoi @sleepymarimo @lovethecoffeemom-blog @marimogf @kkittycries @oonlykooii @satorena @stuckinthewrongworld @kentopedia @agentofkrypton @7smexy7diva @bijuu-naginata @deluluforcarlos55 @zorosprincess ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro smut #zoro roronoa smut #x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #op smut #one piece smut

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kenslilove · 11 months ago

Text

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?”

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary.

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.”

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call.

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s.

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him.

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth.

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life.

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes.

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!”

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock.

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock.

And he loved every second of it.

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit.

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix.

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly.

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard.

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips.

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily.

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom.

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base.

Man knew he was in heaven.

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye.

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that.

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title?

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist.

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin.

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place.

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got.

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets.

“You don’t have to be so mean–”

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–”

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white.

“Hey–”

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders.

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–”

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground.

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw–

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face.

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him.

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him?

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head.

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal?

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles.

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you.

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag.

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest.

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what?

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong?

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go?

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening.

It had been a week.

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time.

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.”

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last.

“Don’t shut me out like this.”

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest.

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now?

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend.

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy.

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow.

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter.

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him.

“Hey–”

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby.

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…”

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.”

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you.

“I know, I know little love and–”

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that.

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because–

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away.

“Well to start, there’s your brother–”

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–”

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“What are you so afraid of?”

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question.

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer.

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.”

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips.

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you.

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.”

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself.

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back.

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Ya know m’working–”

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?”

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of–

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.”

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya.

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.”

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?”

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.”

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s.

But not without a shower first.

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face.

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up.

“So, what's got you fucked up?”

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen.

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–”

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.”

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up.

“What about her?”

“You were seeing her–”

“I was not.”

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head.

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.”

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself.

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.”

“Watch your mouth man–”

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.”

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.”

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave–

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?”

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms.

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.”

“But she’s another little sister–”

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.”

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down.

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s.

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.”

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.”

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.”

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right.

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left.

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did.

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again.

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto–

You.

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact.

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside.

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault–

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual.

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy.

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees.

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch.

He wanted you to be that comfortable again.

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–”

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–”

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–”

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them.

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…”

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks.

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound.

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head.

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again–

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips.

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him.

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip.

“Oh fuck—“

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever.

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag–

He’d save it for another time.

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up.

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded.

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.”

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit.

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion.

“K-Ken–”

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.”

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest.

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face.

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?”

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together.

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–”

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage.

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–”

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.”

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you.

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…”

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with.

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride.

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans.

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones.

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake.

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.”

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.”

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before.

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips.

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at.

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone.

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–”

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.”

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.”

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer.

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier.

“Well, what the fuck is this–”

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch.

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.”

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath.

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.”

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again.

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis.

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder.

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence.

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled.

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!!

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

Text

Fluff → 💕 | Angst → 💋 | Smut → 🔥

All works are written by me and are not given consent to be reposted anywhere else other than my own account (reblogs are fine)

Dom Hayden Blurb

Social Media Au

Fever Dream 💕

➪the one where you and hayden celebrate his birthday.

Open Invitation 🔥

➪the one where hayden’s day off with you gets interrupted. Done Right 🔥 ➪the one where you and hayden get back to your unfinished business. (part 2 of OI)

Like Fine Wine 💕🔥

➪the one where you can’t resist hayden’s look for his role in ahsoka.

Sweet Spot 🔥

➪the one where hayden goes down on you.

Santa, Baby 💕

➪the one where you and hayden celebrate christmas. Bring in the New Year 💕🔥 ➪the one where you and hayden enter a new year together (part 2 of SB).

The Night has Just Begun 💕🔥

➪the one where you and hayden make a sex tape.

Second Nature 💕

➪the one where hayden is not only protective over you, but the tiny person he helped make with you.

Ride With Me Series 💕🔥💋

➪the one where you and hayden meet and fall in love, despite having a rocky introduction. (racer au)

He’s Got My Name 💕💋

➪the one where everything a.j. does, he does for you. Tattooed On His Arm 💕💋 ➪the one where a.j. finally gets the money for your treatment, but at a cost. (part 2 of HGMN)

The Only One Invited 💕🔥💋

➪the one where you’re with a.j. and ghost, your ex, gets out of prison.

No One Else 💕🔥

➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.

Dating Anakin Skywalker would include;

Blurb 1

Cosmic Love 💋

➪the one where you break anakin’s heart after he unknowingly broke yours. Back To You 💕💋 ➪the one where anakin is slipping away and needs you more than ever. (part 2 of CL) The Story of Us 💕💋 ➪the one where things are a a bit different after you and anakin get back together. (part 3 of CL/BTY)

Heartbreak Prince 💕💋🔥

➪the one where you’re a princess and anakin saves you in more ways than one.

Shadows of Your Heart 💕💋

➪the one where anakin makes it up to you after being distant during a mission.

When Faced with Darkness 💋

➪the one where you and anakin reunite years after he turned to the dark side.

Screaming Whispers 💕🔥

➪the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse. ➪Something to Write About. (one shot | part of the SW au) ➪Love & Bound. (blurb | part of the SW au) add ons; one, two

Wrapped Around Your Finger Series 💕🔥💋

➪the one where you and anakin struggle to find time for each other after his first tour wraps up. (continuation of screaming whispers) Series Playlist

Love Language 💕💋

➪the one where you’re all clay needs to keep himself calm before surgery (and after).

Sound of Your Heart 💕💋

➪the one where you take care of clay after his surgery.

In The Way I Need You Series 💕🔥💋

➪the one where clay needs a babysitter for his son, and you just so happen to be more than willing to take up his offer.

Blurb

If I Love You was a Promise 💕💋

➪the one where james’ brother comes home just when things were falling into place. Don’t Come Back For Me 💋 ➪the one where everything falls apart. (part 2 of IILYWAP) Careless Whisper 💕💋 ➪the one where james struggles with getting used to his life without you, even nearly a year after the break up. (part 3 to IILYWAP/DCBFM)

The Perks 💕🔥

➪the one where you get to experience all the perks that come with being james’ wife and biggest supporter.

Dating Luke Reiter would include;

Right Back to the Start 💕💋🔥

➪the one where luke wakes up to the abandoned city of detroit and doesn’t think twice about looking for the one person that always meant the most to him.

Til Morning Comes 💕💋

➪the one where luke is late for work after spending the night in the sheets with you, but quickly discovers that his attendance is the least of his worries.

Teen Romance 💕💋

➪the one where you try to make sam see just how good he has it, and he almost loses both you and his dad before he finally changes his act.

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vhyunjinverse · 1 year ago

Text

BOYS LOCKER ROOM !✭

f!reader x gojo satoru (18+) | not proof read | reblog pls <3

summary : You hated the boys locker room for many reasons..like how Satoru didn’t have much room when he fucked you in there, or time for that matter..

warnings : Shower sex, girl in the guys locker room, public sex, quickie, talks of getting reader pregnant, Gojo has a pregnancy kink idc, breeding kink, asshole tease, whiney gojo is a my fav gojo

“Satoru! the game starts in thirty minutes..what are you doing man?”

“Be out in a sec! Gotta be clean before I get dirty out there~!”

As Gojo would say, you could never be too clean. He glances towards the door before he heard it close, his teammate leaving him be in the shower. Satoru took a deep breath, the steam flooding his thoughts for a second.

“Hurry..up.” you whine. He glances down at you, you skin glistening in the warm water, Satoru’s cock buried deep in your cunt, his thumb teasing the ring of your asshole. You held onto a rail, back arched to give his better access. There wasn’t much space to work with after all. “Oh what’s wrong captain? Oh shit, you’re supposed to be out cheering…” He lets out a halfhearted laugh, pulling out until the tip popped out of your gaping hole. His cum seeped from your folds almost instantly. You shudder from the lost, despite the warm water hitting your back. “Fuck..put it back in Toru.”

“Yeah..? You want it back in princess?” his cock slaps against your sensitive pussy. His lips part at the sight of your holes squeezing around nothing. “yes. yes- god fuck.” Your whines turn into needy cries, his thick head teasing your swollen clit. His cum beginning to smear over your slick walls. “Fuck I need to get you pregnant..” he moans. Satoru’s thumb circles back at your hole, pre stretched by him of course. Freaky fuck. You press your ass back on him. He didn’t miss the jiggle, slapping it softly.

“Gonna cheer for me captain? Huh baby?” He’s pushing his cock back into your workout warning. You felt your eyes water at just how good it felt. Fuck you didn’t want to go out there. “Want you riding my cock princess.” He groans, fucking into you as if you didn’t have to go out there and do everything perfectly.. “want you fucking yourself pregnant..want to see your stomach full of my seed- shit!” Satoru watches you gush over his cock and the shower floor. Your arms trembling from holding yourself up. “mm….a-ah Toru..T-Toru..” You whimper out a warning, your pussy squeezing around his cock. You hate that he couldn’t fuck you the way he wanted. You wanted his hands around your neck, commanding that you take every drop of his seed. “w-wanna see that pretty tummy swollen..” Gojo whines, head tipping back, the water running down his neck.

“That’s it.. cheer for me captain.” He was pretty sure the sound of your bodies colliding was louder than the shower running but he didn’t care. He finally had you, who was to stop him? The game..the game he had to play in less than 30 minutes. He sped up, reaching down to touch that pretty clit of yours. Your body jerks- you come with a small scream of his name, legs shaking from the stimulation. “i-i…oh fuck too much- too much T…oru.” Your eyes sting with tears, body spasming.

“Oi! Satoru, coach says he’ll give you hell if you take another ten minutes!” Satoru’s head tipped back resting on the tiled wall while his cum coated yours, shooting deep into your womb. You mewl at the feeling. Ignoring the comment from his teammate who had opened the door once more. Satoru’s eyes peeled open, glancing forwards the fogged frame. “Coming..” he calls out, smirk on his lips.

“He also said to tell Y/N her coach is looking for her, said don’t let it happen a fourth time or he’s snitching.”

Another reason you hated the boys locker room, everyone was aware of what Satoru did when he showered last..fucking you. You’re his pregame workout after all.

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winchesterwild78 · 12 days ago

Text

The Art of Not Saying "I Love You"

Master List

Characters: Soldier Boy, Ben x Reader, other characters from The Boys

Warnings: Angst, Ben-cause he’s a warning all by himself, language,

A/N: Sometimes I get my best ideas as I’m falling asleep at night. This one came to me last night as I laid in bed. This one is kind of an enemies to lovers. This is the first chapter of a few, not sure how many yet. You never know with me. 😂 This chapter is laying the groundwork for the story, so nothing too bad, yet.

I do not own the rights to the characters in this story. This does not follow The Boys timeline, and is a work of fiction.

All work is my own, please don’t take it or use it without permission. Reblogs and Likes are always welcome.

Written and edited fast, please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

Sitting on the sidewalk with just my phone, wallet and the clothes on my back I cried. My apartment building is now glowing bright orange and red as the firefighters fought the 3 alarm fire.

My whole world, every possession, was gone in an instant. The fire started a few floors down and of course the sprinkler system was faulty. When we had to evacuate I grabbed what I could carry and took off.

Sitting on the sidewalk I called the only person I could think of, Butcher.

“Oi, love. How are you?” A whimper leaving my lips. “Love, what’s wrong?” “It’s gone Butcher, my whole life. Everything is gone.” “What happened?” “There was a fire. The building is gone.” “I’m on my way, love.”

A few minutes later I looked up and saw Butcher, Annie and Huey climb out of the van. Butcher came over to me and pulled me into his strong arms.

I collapsed and cried. He lifted me up and carried me back to the van. “Come on love, you’re coming home with us.” I just nodded.

Walking into the apartment with the three of them I was greeted by Kimiko, Frenchie and MM. At the table I saw Soldier Boy doing a line of coke.

I tried to look away, but his presence was demanding, even across the room. As he lifted his head and sniffed he made eye contact with me. A little white powder still on his nose.

I bit my lip and finally looked away when Frenchie called my name. “Mon coeur, let’s get you cleaned up.” I nodded and followed him to the bathroom.

I could hear Ben’s booming voice through the wall, “I see you picked up another stray, Butcher. Where’d you find this one?” “Shut it, you cunt. She is family and her place just burned down. She’s staying.”

I wasn’t related to Butcher by blood, but he had always been like a protective uncle to me. My boyfriend Tom was intimidated by him at first. So bad he wouldn’t sleep with me. Butcher thought it was hilarious, me not so much.

Frenchie came back into the bathroom and handed me some clean clothes. An oversized shirt, I was sure was Butchers, and a pair of sweatpants. I thanked him and after he left I jumped in the shower.

I let the water wash over my body and wash away the ash, smoke and tears as they fell. A few minutes later I was clean, my heart still aching, but I was okay. I survived and the stuff can be replaced.

Walking into the living room I noticed the apartment was quiet. I found a note on my purse from Butcher.

Y/N,

Ran to get some food. Annie and Huey went shopping for you. Try to relax and we will be back soon. Ben is still there but he’s probably under some woman by now.

-B

I chuckled at the last line. “Something funny, doll?” The deep voice from behind me sent a shiver down my spine. I turned and was inches from Soldier Boy. His smell, the heat coming from him, was intoxicating. I swallowed hard, “Oh, um, just Butcher.” I bit my lip.

His eyes scanned my body and I felt my heart rate skyrocket. He knew it too, as evident by the smirk on his face. “You okay there doll? You seem a little…flustered.”

I nodded, “Yeah, this is just my first time meeting you, Soldier Boy.” “Ben, call me Ben.” I nodded, but couldn’t speak.

He was now inches from me. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. The thoughts swirling in my head and the feeling of his breath on me made me dizzy.

I tried to step back but stumbled. His strong hands caught me and my body instantly responded to his touch.

I would let him take me right here. God he’s gorgeous and his hands. Damn. What the hell is wrong with me?

The shrill sound of my phone shattered the silence and pulled me out of my thoughts. My breath hitched as he let go of me with a smirk.

I grabbed my phone as he sat down at the table to roll and light a joint. I answered the phone. “Hey, Tom. Yeah, I’m okay. No, it’s a total loss. Oh, I’m staying with Butcher and the team. Yes I’m sure. Sure, I can’t wait to see you. Okay, bye.”

I hung up and saw Ben sitting at the table pretending like he wasn’t listening to my conversation.

“So, who’s Tom?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Oh, um, he’s my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a few months now.” He just nodded, but I noticed his jaw got tight.

About an hour later Butcher, Annie and Huey were back. Annie and Huey bought me some things for the room I was going to be staying in. It was a spare room since Huey and Annie moved in together.

I was making the bed when I heard a knock on my door. “Hey Y/N, Tom’s here.” Annie smiled. I nodded and walked into the living room. Tom knew everyone except Ben. He was still sitting at the table brooding.

“Hey baby. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tom said as he pulled me into a hug and kiss. “You know everyone here except Ben.” I nodded towards the man child pouting in the corner.

“Ben, this is Tom. Tom, this is Ben, Soldier Boy.” Tom extended his hand to shake Ben’s. Ben put out his hand and took Tom’s hard. He winced in pain and Ben smirked. “Nice to meet you Tom.” Tom pulled his hand back, shaking it, “Yeah, um, you too.”

I furrowed my brow at Ben. He just smirked. “Come on Tom, let me show you to my room.” I shot Ben a look and I swear I saw pain reflect back.

We walked into my room and I closed the door behind us. As soon as I did, Tom’s lips and hands were on my body. “God I missed you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” I smiled against his lips.

We fell onto the bed and Tom explored every inch of my body, making me forget about the past 24 hours.

As we laid in each other’s arms Tom seemed a little off. “Babe, are you okay?” “Yeah, I just don’t know what Ben’s problem is.” “Babe, he’s like that with everyone. Don’t take it personally.” He nodded and pulled me closer to his side. “What do you say to you and I going out tonight. Dinner, dancing, or a movie. Whatever you want.” “I’d love that.” I kissed his lips.

He started to get up, “Great, I’ll pick you up at about 7.” I was a little confused, “What? You’re not staying?”

Tom was getting dressed, leaned down, kissed my lips, “No, I have something I have to do before tonight. I’ll be back at 7.” I nodded, feeling a slight pang in my chest. “Okay. See you then.”

He finished getting dressed and left the room, closing the door behind him. I laid in bed for a few minutes. A little hurt. Tom seemed to swing by for a little bit and then be gone. We always went out or stayed at my place and he never spent the night. Anytime I questioned him he said it was because his roommates were weird about having people over. I understood that, because I had a roommate that didn’t want anyone in the place but us.

I climbed out of bed, got dressed and went to the living room. “Hey Y/N. I saw Tom left. Everything okay?” Annie asked. “Oh yeah, he had some things to take care of before we go out tonight. Which reminds me, Annie do you think you could take me shopping? I have nothing to wear out tonight.” She smiled and nodded, “Yep I sure can.”

“Great, I’ll be ready in about 10 minutes.” I said as I went back to my room. Walking down the hallway I walked past Ben’s room. He was in there with the door slightly cracked. I couldn’t help but notice he was standing beside the bed and was grunting. My cheeks flushed red when I realized what he was doing.

My heart rate picked up and I walked to my room. A few minutes later he appeared at my door with a smirk on his face, “Like what you saw, doll?” My eyes flicked to his, blood filled my cheeks and I rolled my eyes, “No, Ben, and I’d appreciate it if you’d close your door if you’re going to do that. I don’t want to see or hear you.” He stepped closer to me, “Aww why not. I had to endure hearing you and Tom in here earlier. Sounded like he couldn’t satisfy you. Want me to help you out, maybe relieve some of that tension.”

“What?! Ben, get the hell out of my room. You’re a pig, and for your information Tom can satisfy me.” His smug grin spread on his face and he stepped closer, “You sure about that doll? That man definitely didn’t hit that sweet spot. Want to know how I know?”

“You’re delusional, Ben.” He stepped even closer, my heart beating wildly in my chest, “I know because I can hear how your heart reacts to me and how it reacted to him. Plus I didn’t hear you cum.”

My eyes went wide, “What the fuck, Ben! Get out!” I pushed against his firm chest. Trying to push him out of the room. He grabbed my wrist, turned me and pinned me against the wall. His lips ghosting over my neck. “Ben..” My breath quickened and my pulse grew faster.

“Now that’s what I wanted to hear, your lips pleading for me, and your heart beating loudly. Not to mention the arousal I smell between your legs.” I leaned my head back against the wall, moving to the side as his hot breath fell over my neck. I couldn’t help but moan.

He was right, my body was responding to him, better than it did to Tom. His lips inches from my pulse point, placing a soft kiss to my neck he smirked as I whimpered, then he pulled away.

He let my hands go and walked out of my room. I stood in a haze. What the hell just happened? Why am I so turned on by him!?

“Y/N, are you ready to go?” I heard Annie call from the hall. I cleared my throat, “Um, yeah.”

I walked past Ben’s room and saw him sitting on his bed with a joint and a smirk on his face. Bastard.

Annie and I came back a few hours later with some new clothes for me and I started getting ready to go out with Tom. I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had when Ben touched me.

I showered and got ready. I wore some jeans, a nice top and some low heeled boots. Annie helped with my hair and make up.

Walking into the living room where Tom was waiting with Butcher and Huey I smiled softly at him, “Ready to go?” “Yeah, let’s go.” He smiled. “You look beautiful, love.” Butcher said. “Yeah, Y/N. You look great.” Huey agreed. I noticed Ben sitting on the couch, he glanced over then looked away. He cleared his throat and I saw a slight smirk on his lips.

I grabbed my purse and Tom and I headed out. “So, where to?” “I heard about this really good Italian restaurant a few towns over. I figured there and maybe we could go catch a movie.” I nodded and climbed in his car.

When I climbed in I thought I smelled perfume, but it was gone just as quickly as I smelled it. There was a woman who walked by as I got in, so I figured it was her.

He took my hand in his and we drove. Arriving at the restaurant about 30 minutes later, he took me by the hand and led me in. We sat down and ordered food.

“So how long do you plan on living at Butcher’s?” He asked. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess until I can find another place. Butcher hasn’t put a time limit on it, why?” “I just don’t trust Ben. He seems like he could be a problem.” I touched his hand, “Tom, trust me. He’s not going to be a problem. Besides, I have Butcher and everyone else. They’ll keep him in line.”

He nodded, “Still, I think the sooner you get out of there the better. Especially for our relationship.” That confused me, “What’s my living arrangement have to do with our relationship? I’m not sleeping with any of them. Why does it matter who my roommates are?”

“It doesn’t, let’s just drop it and enjoy tonight.” I nodded, but felt something was off.

Later that night, after dinner, the movie and a few drinks, we stumbled back into the apartment. I was a little tipsy. “Shh we have to be quiet. Everyone’s asleep.” I giggled. “Okay, lightweight. Let’s get to your room.” Tom said as he helped me to my room. As we walked past Ben’s room I noticed the door was closed. My mind instantly went to this afternoon and I felt myself getting aroused.

As soon as we got to my room I started kissing Tom. The lines between him and Ben in my mind began to blur and I started seeing Ben instead.

Tom, taking full advantage of my tipsy, aroused state began to undress and so did I.

“Mmm baby, I need you, please.” I whined as my body ached to be touched. Before too long we were in the middle of yet another session of louder than usual sex.

Ben laid in his bed, trying to block out the noise. He was getting more pissed with every moan, every squeak of the bed. He growled in frustration as he climbed out of bed.

I was on top of Tom and his hands cupping my breasts as the bedroom door swung open. “Can you two please shut the fuck up!” I gasped and grabbed the blanket. “Ben, what the fuck! You don’t just barge into someone’s room you fucking asshole.”

Tom had pushed me off of him at this point, “Ben you need to leave her room, now.”

Ben smirked, stepping closer, “And what are you going to do about it pretty boy?” I jumped out of the bed with the sheet wrapped around me and got in between them, “Guys, come on. Please. Ben, leave, now! Tom, please let it go.”

“Hell no! This is what I warned you about. You know what, I’m out of here.” I grabbed his arm, “Tom, no, wait. Let me get my stuff and we can go back to your place.” “Y/N, I already told you we can’t. My roommates don’t like other people there.”

Ben looked between the two of us and his eyes flashed with something I didn’t quite understand. He left the room without another word. Tom got dressed and left too.

I sat on my bed, confused, and lonely. Then I was pissed. I was still covered with the sheet and walked to Ben’s room. I knocked.

“Come in, Y/N.” I pushed open his door and saw him sitting on the bed looking defeated. Venom dripped from my mouth, “Ben, how dare you barge into my room when I’m having sex with my boyfriend. Who the hell do you think you are? How would you like it if I barged in here when you had one of your many women?”

He smirked, “Oh that would be a dream come true.” He stood and walked over to me, “Why don’t we do that.” I rolled my eyes in disgust, “Fuck you, Ben! For the rest of the time I’m here don’t fucking talk to me or look at me. I’m not your friend, girlfriend or whatever you have twisted in your mind. You stay out of my life and I’ll stay out of yours.”

Without another word I turned on my heels and walked back into my room. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was angry, but then regret washed over me. Did I really not want him in my life?

The tears that pricked my eyes fell fast and hot on my face.

I crawled in my bed and cried. Tom left, he didn’t want me at his place. The more I thought about it the more concerned I got. I’d never been to his house. What was he hiding?

I shook my head, no stop it! Tom cares about me. This is just all the crap going on with Ben.

A little while later I woke up to the sounds of giggles and moans. I tried to ignore it, but it grew louder. I grabbed my clothes and walked into the kitchen to get a drink.

I could still hear the sounds and knew it was Ben and his latest flavor of the night. As I walked past his room his door swung open and he stood there with a towel around his waist. His toned chest covered in sweat and his hair messed up.

I saw the woman in his bed, looking completely fucked out and a pang of jealousy ripped through my body.

“Want to join us, doll?” I scoffed and walked to my room.

“Go to hell Ben.” I pushed past him and went back to my room. I need to find a new place soon. I can’t live here with him. He’s such an ass.

The next few days the tension in the apartment was suffocating. I spent most of my time between work and looking for a new place. Tom refused to come over and things were strained between us. My focus right now was finding a new place.

Ben was in and out, a different girl every day and he drowned the rest of his issues in coke and whiskey. Tonight was no different except he brought home two girls.

I put my headphones on and tried to drown them out. It worked for the most part. I messaged Tom. Desperately wanting to go out but he said he was busy and wasn’t going to be able to chat tonight. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

I finally fell asleep around 2am. My alarm blaring at 7 to wake me up for work. I went to work, sitting at my desk and tried to block out the sounds coming from Ben’s room and the feeling that there was a wedge growing between Tom and I.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you want to grab some lunch?” My co-worker Connie asked me. “Oh, no. Not today. I brought my lunch and I’m gonna keep looking for a place to live. Thanks though.” She nodded and left.

I sat at my desk looking through listings and nothing seemed to work. It was either too expensive or just right but not in a great neighborhood.

Ben was out walking, headed towards Vought Tower when he spotted Tom. He scoffed when he saw him. “Pussy.” He mumbled under his breath. Then he saw it. The thing that sent him into a rage, Tom was walking hand in hand with another woman. Ben crossed the street and approached Tom. “Tom, hey man. What’s going on?” Ben stood towering over Tom with his Soldier Boy suit on. The woman with Tom looked starstruck. “Bben, what are you doing here?” Tom stuttered out. “Tom honey, you never told me you knew Soldier Boy.”

Ben smiled at her, “Well hello there doll, you can call me Ben. So, how do you know our boy Tom here?” “I’m Vicky, his wife. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Ben made eye contact with Tom, “Oh, I didn’t know you were married. It’s so nice to meet you too Vicky. How long have y'all been married?” “Yesterday was our 10th anniversary.” Ben scoffed, “10 years, wow. Any rugrats?” Tom looked pale. Ben was seething with anger.

“Yeah, we have a little boy who is 5 and (she placed her hand on her belly) we have another one on the way.” Ben’s jaw clenched, “Wow, congratulations. Well let me let you two get back to whatever you were doing. It was nice meeting you, and I’ll see you later Tom.”

As Ben walked away his heart broke for me, but he was full of anger. How the hell was he going to tell me about this?

“Hey, Ben, wait up a sec.” Ben heard Tom. “Ben, please don’t tell Y/N. This would break her heart.” “You expect me to keep this from her? That you’re married and have 2 fucking kids?! Fuck you! You tell her or I will.” Tom knew Ben was serious. “Fine, I’ll tell her.” Tom relented. Ben got inches from him, “You better or I will.”

With that Ben was gone. The weight of what he just found hanging on him. Would you believe him or dismiss him? He sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do. Fuck Tom.

Later that night the apartment was quiet. You got home from work and everyone was gone, except for Ben. He was sitting on his bed when you walked past.

You half expected to see a woman laying in the bed, but he was alone. He looked sober too. I walked to my room, removed my shoes.

Ben stood at my door for a second and cleared his throat. I looked up at him and saw his normally hard, stoic eyes soft and sad. “Hey.” He said softly. “Ben, what can I help you with?” “I was hoping we could talk.” I walked around the room and started packing my stuff.

“I don’t see how talking is going to make a difference. Besides, I'll be out of your way in a few minutes.” His eyes went wide, “What? Did you find a place?” I shook my head, “No, I’m going to stay in a hotel. That way we can stay clear of each other. I can’t keep living like this, Ben. You’re obviously not happy with me being here and Tom won’t come visit me since that night you barged in here.”

Ben’s heart clenched in his chest. Tom hadn’t told you yet. Ben reached his hand out and cupped my face, “Y/N, please don’t go. I have to tell you something.” I leaned into his touch, my heart raced in my chest.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I ran into Tom today. He was with someone.” I looked at Ben. His voice was soft and calm, but tinged with sadness. “What? Who?” “He was with his wife. They have a 5 year old son and she’s pregnant.”

I gasped, “What?! Ben, that’s not funny. Why would you say that?” “Doll it’s true. Her name is Vicky and they’ve been married 10 years.”

I stumbled backwards, “I…I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my stuff and left. The tears fell fast and heavy. Was he telling the truth? What reason would he possibly have to lie to me? Fuck!

I checked into my hotel and turned off my phone and just cried. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t expecting a wife and children. I just needed to figure out how to handle this and of course a place to live.

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