#seth might just die

[d-lanx]

ok but the second he says he's gonna kill punk like drew couldn't, theres a split second of drew being like "EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME?!" and then he composes himself and just like, "ok".

[bratbarzal]

Let It Happen (LH43) 1/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.

General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf 🤢, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half

A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.

very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!

AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)

You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.

You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year. 

No school? Check.

Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.

Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.

But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.

A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company. 

School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.

It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.

It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it. 

But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.

Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.

You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.

You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar. 

It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.

You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.

Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest. 

But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.

Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.

But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.

It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it. 

Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.

She deserves better. 

Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.

Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.

In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.

This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance. 

Luke Hughes loves summer.

He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.

The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already. 

He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he’s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.

He does love living with his brother.

Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.

And he really is grateful for that.

But, God, can he be annoying.

Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.

Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town. 

He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.

A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.

A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.

And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.

Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall. 

He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.

Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place. 

“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”

“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”

“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.” 

“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”

“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.

“Fine, it’s Ellie.”

Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance. 

“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”

“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier. 

It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat. 

“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”

Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.

But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.

You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.

“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here. 

Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.

“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”

And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that. 

“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel. 

“You know her?”

“We had a class together. I know of her.”

Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.

He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out. 

He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of. 

He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue. 

He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.

But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.

“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”

“No,”

“And I let you live with me all year?”

“My name’s on the lease.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”

Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.” 

“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”

If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.

You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.

“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”

And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.

He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.

Since when do you work here?

He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories. 

He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.

But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.

If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.

Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.

Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in. 

It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”

“Five minutes of your time?”

The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.

His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.

He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through. 

Who doesn’t love a shortcut?

Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”

“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?

He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.

It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.

He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice. 

“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”

“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm. 

“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”

Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.

He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!

“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”

“I know who you are.”

So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.

He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”

“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so…” 

“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.

“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”

“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.

“What about ‘em?”

“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”

“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”

Us. Oh, he likes that.

“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”

You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”

“A nudge, then?”

He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.

If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.

“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”

“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”

“How profound.” 

“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”

“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.” 

“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.

“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”

“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.

“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”

“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”

“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”

You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?

“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.

“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”

Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.

This is fun. 

There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.

“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”

“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.

“We could make a competition out of it.”

“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.

There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?

“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”

It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.

“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes. 

“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.

“It’s what you want that concerns me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”

You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life. 

“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”

Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.

Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.

“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”

If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song. 

But God, you were pretty. 

Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.

“I’m Luke.”

“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."

“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m Luke.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I know her.”

“Clearly.”

“This is her basket.”

“Does she need to sign for it?”

“No, I-,”

“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”

And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.

He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.

He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in. 

He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.

And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm. 

When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.

He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even. 

And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.

At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.

He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem. 

He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.

And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.

You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”

The bet.

Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.

He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though. 

If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.

He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises. 

“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.

He has you figured out, by now. 

“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”

“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over. 

“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”

You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.

The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.

He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.

“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”

“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”

“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”

“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.

“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”

“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.” 

Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.

“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”

If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises. 

“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”

Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.

“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”

Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.

It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.

And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.

But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”

You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.

If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.

Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.

Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.

And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan. 

You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time. 

Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.

And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.

It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.

So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.

Cole Caufield being one of them. 

He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.

You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off. 

He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.

You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.

You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side. 

You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour. 

You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you’re spending your summer in a house filled with boys. 

And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.

Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.

“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.

“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.

“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”

You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.

Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.

“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”

He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. 

“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”

“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.

“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”

“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”

Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 

Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.

“You wish.”

“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him. 

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”

“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.

“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.

“Good for her.”

“Alone.”

“No shit.”

“To ask her out.”

“Whoop-de-doo.”

“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”

You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”

This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand. 

Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections. 

You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.

“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”

“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”

And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head. 

It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.

“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”

“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”

Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?

“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.

“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”

“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.” 

“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth. 

“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”

You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.

“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”

“Can you find out?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”

“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 

“No. It absolutely does not.”

Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip. 

By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.

Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.

Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.

Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new. 

Much better.

Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club. 

You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.

And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop. 

You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.

So it has to be for him and Jessica.

Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants. 

But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it. 

So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.

You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”

You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.

“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”

“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.

“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”

“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”

And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.

You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.

A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.

Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.

“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store. 

You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”

“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.

“Well done, you can read.”

“Why?”

“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”

“So?”

“He’s on a date.”

“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”

He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.

“To get his hair cut.”

Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.

“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”

“And what are we supposed to do about that?”

“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.” 

You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.

“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”

“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”

“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”

You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased. 

“Thank you.”

It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.

“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.

“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.

“Any food?”

“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”

“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”

You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance. 

“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”

“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.

“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.

“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”

“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”

“Won’t he complain?”

“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”

“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”

She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.

“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”

“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”

“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”

“In your dreams, Hughes.”

Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.

The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.

He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius. 

It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint. 

You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut. 

You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”

You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.

He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it. 

And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.

The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.

That would usually drive him crazy.

He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.

You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.

You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows. 

You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.

You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.

And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.

You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.

He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame. 

“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.

“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”

“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening. 

He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.

“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”

“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”

“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”

Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.

You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow. 

But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.

“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”

Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”

“You’re really keeping score?”

“You’re not?”

If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.

“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt. 

“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”

You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”

“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”

He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.

“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”

“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car. 

Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features. 

“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.

“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.

“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”

“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”

Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up. 

“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”

“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”

“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”

“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”

“She started it!”

“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”

He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere. 

“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”

And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.

He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.

Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.

“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”

“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”

There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.

Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.

So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet. 

You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.

You can’t wait.

The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.

“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”

Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”

He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.

He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?

“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”

There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.

“How’d you get to that conclusion?”

“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”

“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”

Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.

“Like what?”

“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”

A death wish might actually be an understatement.

Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely. 

You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.

You’d really have a reason to kill him, then. 

“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.

“What, that?”

“You’re so dead.”

You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.

There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.

It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.

It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.

Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.

And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.  

You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.

And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.

Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest. 

“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV. 

“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.

“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”

You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.

“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”

“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”

“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part. 

“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”

“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”

“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”

It’s not something you really love talking about. 

The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.

“You don’t see him even in the summer?”

“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”

You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.

Interstellar. 

You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.

“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance. 

“Me too. I love space movies.”

“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other. 

“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”

“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.

“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”

“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”

“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”

“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.

“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”

“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”

You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.

“What about you? What movies do you like?”

“You’re gonna be so shocked.”

“Sports movies?”

“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”

You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”

The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.

And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if I get to ask one back.”

“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”

Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.

“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”

“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”

Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.

It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric. 

You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees. 

“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”

You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.

>PART TWO<

another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!

this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is pissed off. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. D/s undertones, rough, unprotected p in v, slapping, cum. 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me, Priest,” she says, yanking her arm out of his grasp before shoving his stupid, giant body as hard as she can. He stumbles back a couple steps, arms spread, palms to his girlfriend, and the unadulterated befuddlement painted on his face is enough to make her head explode.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Damian chuckles.

“What’s wrong with me?” she screams. Damian’s smirk is gone in an instant and his muscles stiffen, bringing him to his full terrifying height, but she can’t back down now. Not after what she just saw. Fuck him and the click he claims. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she continues yelling. They’re drawing attention—well, she is, anyway—but she couldn’t care less. She wants these people—his friends, coworkers, bosses, fans—to know exactly how much Damian Priest sucks, what kind of man is, what kind of boyfriend he is.

“Come here,” he grumbles, snatching her bicep, squeezing hard enough she knows there will be a bruise left behind, and he lifts, nearly bringing her feet off the ground, making it completely impossible for her to escape this time. She feels like her shoulder is dislocating the closer they get to the locker room, and she’s nearly flung into the door when it opens unexpectedly.

“Everything … okay here?” Seth Rollins asks, chocolate eyes passing back and forth between the couple.

“Everything’s fine,” Damian roars, swinging the tiny woman inside the empty locker room. As she goes by, she lifts her middle finger at Rollins, who instantly backs away, hands up, not wanting any trouble. Damian releases his death grip on her arm before kicking the door closed behind him. “Okay.” He sets his hands on his trim hips, shrugging, big eyes and raised brows. “Seriously. What’s your problem?”

Her lips purse as she massages her arm and considers his question. On one hand, she’s pissed because the asshole should know what he did. On the other hand, she could accuse him only to have him deny it, and then what does she do? On the other, other hand—a much smaller, less significant, barely existing other, other hand—there’s a chance she’s wrong, and while it would be good news, she would be embarrassed, and their relationship would be damaged … if it isn’t already. But then the image from earlier flashes in her brain and, not only does she want to die a little, she believes she knows the truth, so decides to stay the course.

“You’re—” She clears her throat because suddenly it’s scratchy and it hurts much like the pain in her chest. “You’re cheating on me.”

The allegation hangs heavily in the ether. She feels stupid actually saying the words. She never, in a million years, would have believed him to be the type, but she knows what her eyes saw. Rhea Ripley—the incomparable, exquisitely beautiful—Rhea Bloody Ripley in Damian’s strong arms, her muscular legs wrapped around his waist. They weren’t kissing, but they might as well have been, and somehow, in her crumbling mental capacity, that alone served as plenty of evidence for an affair.

“What?” Damian asks, the tone of his voice lowering several levels. “I’m—” He pauses, shaking his head. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

“Yeah, Damian, you’re fucking cheating on me,” she replies with more force than she thought she was capable of.

He nods, plump lips forming a deep frown. “And you thought acting like a psychopath in front of everyone we know was the way to handle it?”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” she seethes, nostrils flaring. Her skin crawls at the thought of the two of them together. She wants to vomit imagining a life without her Papí. She just can’t fucking believe they’ve ended up here.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Damian replies, bending over to her height. “You’re talkin’ nonsense!”

“I saw you, Damian. I fucking saw both of you.”

He shakes his head, shoulders coming up to his ears as he considers her statement. And then it dawns on him—she watches in real time as the lightbulb flashes on above his stupid man bun. “Are you talkin’ about Rhea?”

Her mind is blank, erased like a math problem on a chalkboard, leaving her heart in control of her body—and right now?—that heart is fractured, splintering, promising to disintegrate at any given moment. She feels her feet moving of their own volition, closing the space between them. She stands before him for half a moment at less than half his height before reeling back and slapping him across the face. The palm of her hand erupts with fire, tears she’s been battling since the moment she witnessed the embrace now streaming freely down her contoured cheeks. Damian stands frozen, looking somewhere over her head. The muscles in his jaws flex as he clenches his teeth, inhaling long and hard through his nose. He opens his mouth to spin a web of lies, so she slaps him again before he can get started. She’s crying now because of the pain in her hand and the pain behind her ribcage, so she slaps him once again because it’s his goddamn fault. Damian catches her wrist as she makes another attempt, and this is a brand new pain.

“Mírame!” he bellows, backing her up until she slams into the nearest wall. She loses her breath a bit, but Damian places his free hand behind her head to prevent any impact. His grip on her wrist is unrelenting as he holds it against her chest. She is miniscule in this awkward embrace, her eyes looking everywhere but where he wants her to. But when he bends his knees and dips down to her level, ducking his head until he’s in her line of sight, she’s forced to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna make you pay for those slaps in a minute …” he cautions. His hand starts applying pressure to the back of her head. “But first I have to tell you, because for some reason you need to fucking hear it, I’m not cheating on you.” 

She swallows, having her breath stolen again because she feels the truth of his words vibrating her bone marrow. She also feels the shame and embarrassment of being wrong. With her free hand she struggles to unclamp his vice-like grip from her wrist, and having had enough of her shit, Damian grabs both wrists this time and smashes them into the wall above her.

“Do you hear me?” he carries on, with quite a bit more hostility than she’s used to, shoving his knee into the wall between her legs. His knee pad becomes a cushion for her pussy—he’s still in his gear, still sweaty, because she accosted him right after his match—elevating her to the toes of her sneakers, and she is completely at the mercy of Damian Priest.

“Yes,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Good. Do you believe me? Hmm?” Capturing both wrists in one hand, he cups her chin with the other and touches his cheek to hers. “Do you believe that I’d rather die than hear someone else call me Papí?” It’s actually an incredibly sweet confession, but the venom in his tone scorches the honey in his words.

She believes him. By all that is good and holy in this world, she believes him and she is equal parts mortified, thankful, and contrite. She’d allowed her imagination to run wild because of an act of love between close friends, never once considering having a civil conversation with either of them about how it clearly made her uncomfortable. Did she just cause a rift in their relationship? Contaminate it with her jealousy? How many people is she going to have to apologize to? Seth, for sure, although he usually deserves any middle finger aimed in his direction. Christ, what’s she gonna say to Rhea?

“Damian,” she whispers, doing everything she can to not sound pathetic, and if her own ears are to be trusted, she is failing miserably.

“No,” he interrupts her, “you started this. I’m gonna fucking finish it. Now answer me.”

She grits her teeth, rolling her hips unconsciously because the position he’s put her in isn’t all that comfortable, probably by design, and suddenly she remembers how and why she’s propped on her boyfriend’s thigh. Even the slightest friction renders a groan from her. Damian tilts his head, eyes unforgiving, a sable shade she’s never seen before, and she regrets having made any noise at all, no matter how unintentional. His cheek is transforming into a furious vermillion, and the guilt that washes over her is nearly unbearable. She has no hand left to play, not that she did in the first fucking place, and she resigns herself to the punishment she’s about to receive. Well-deserved punishment, she understands.

“Yes,” she breathes, his eyes boring into her, chipping away any residual resolve she might have left inside.

“¿Si, que?” he booms, as if he expected the incorrect response. His anger hasn’t abated.

She can’t feel her fingers anymore and she’s struggling to maintain balance on Damian’s thigh. The slightest lean this way or that sends jolts of pleasure throughout her body, and it’s a losing battle trying to keep the satisfaction off her face. “Yes, Papí,” she says, “I believe you.”

He eyes her for a long moment, searching her face for any clue she might be lying or still angry. She keeps her own eyes open and on him, seemingly baring her soul before him, feeling more vulnerable now than she has in her entire life. At last he pushes away from her and the wall, releasing her wrists, removing his thigh from between her legs, and maybe she misses that last part a little bit.

“Now take those off—” He points at her denim shorts. “—and bend the fuck over.” And then he moves his arm to the right, pointing at a giant WWE trunk on wheels wedged against the corner of the room. She knows her place, and she has her orders.

She kicks her shorts toward him, standing before him in nothing but a pair of Nike hightops, a white thong, and a t-shirt-turned-tube-top that demands the audience to ALL RISE. He doesn’t even look at her body before nodding toward the trunk, and Jesus Christ, she’s in so much trouble. She passes him while rubbing her wrists and when she’s standing less than a foot from the trunk, she realizes she’s too short for this fucking thing too. She glances at Damian over her shoulder, and he’s stomping toward her, and her heart jumps into her throat. She hops onto the trunk, tips of her shoes barely kissing the floor just like when she was straddling Damian’s thigh.

The smack to her right ass cheek echoes throughout the locker room, same with the slap to her left, and she yelps.  Damian grabs her hair and pulls, arching her back into a spine-busting half-circle. He lets go, but before she can fall forward, one of his huge hands clamps over her mouth and holds her in position. With the other, he wrenches at her thong to pull it aside—she hears the material rip at the same time—then bends her leg at the knee and props it onto the trunk beside her.

“You know, the jealousy is kinda sexy on you,” Damian comments. Now she feels his hand working at his pants as it bumps against her sore ass. Then comes a different kind of smacking as he swats the sensitive skin with the underside of his rigid cock. He traces the head along both cheeks and along the crack, on down until she feels the huge, blunt head at her soaking entrance. “But don’t you ever fucking slap me again.”

Without warning, he is wholly sheathed inside her, his hips slamming into hers. She cries out from behind his hand, clutching his wrist with one hand as the other claws at the trunk in a desperate search for leverage to launch herself away. Damian is not a small man, in any way, shape, or form, so he’s always allowed her a few minutes to get used to his size. Not this time. This is her penance. He squeezes her hip, in full control of her body, and he’s simply using her pussy to get off now, without regard for her pleasure. She feels almost like a fleshlight, but her hormones are confused because she’s wet as fuck and, whether he likes it or not, she’s liable to get off just from him fucking her.

Damian stretches across her backside, her spine still bowed, and his teeth scrape across the shell of her ear as he grunts, “Say you’re fucking sorry.” He removes his hand from her mouth.

She gulps oxygen before panting, “I’m sorry, Papí. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He kisses her sweaty neck and sighs, hanging his head over her shoulder in unison with slowing the pummeling of her pussy. “I’m sorry, too. Lo siento, mi vida.” His rhythm starts speeding up following several moments. “But I am gonna cum in this pussy,” he advises, standing up straight, gripping both hips. “And you are gonna walk outta here with it dripping down your thighs.”

“Yes, Papí.”

“Because I fucking love you.”

She groans, bucking back against him. “I love you, baby.”

One final thrust and he makes good on his promise. He even squeezes the base of his cock to make sure every drop is inside her before pulling out. He’s much more gentle with her now, his enormous hands sliding up her back to her shoulder and arm so he can assist her into a standing position. As soon as she turns to him, she grabs his face and pulls his lips to hers. Their kiss is long, deliberate, and by the time they’re finished, his hands are cupping her face and hers are clutching his neck, and goddamn it, she’s so fucking stupid. But love makes people do crazy things.

“Now what do I do?” she asks, holding up the tattered side of her thong. Damian inspects the damage, then takes the lacey material in both hands and rips it into several pieces, which fall one by one to the floor.

“Problem solved.”

🎀 Mírame - Look at me 🎀 Si, que - Yes, what 🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Lo siento - I'm sorry

[ihaveareadingaddiction]

"I needed to lose you to find me."

Seth Clearwater x Swan!Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Seth always been childhood bestfriends, one sudden day in a romantic moment, Seth imprints on you and you try to hide your feelings and after a little while, you realize you need him.

Warnings: Angst. Poor sethy boy 😔

A/N: THERE WILL BE A PART TWO, JUSTICE FOR SETH. This is my first fic so I'm sorry if it's cheesy

Your life changed when your sister came back from Arizona. She met the infamous Edward Cullen, you never thought she would date him, yet here you were. These whole two years have been rough. Your sisters vampire boyfriend, your best friends dad dieing, turning out he's also a werewolf, the volturi, Victoria's newborn army, and now it's Bella's wedding day. You thought everything was going way to fast. And it was. She was getting married at the young age of only 18. Of course it was a month before her 19th birthday but you tried to get her to wait another few years, but then she brought up her 'Aging', which you thought was stupid since she was not even 20 yet.

Bella was getting ready and I went in to go see her. As I walked in the room that Rosalie and Alice was working on Bella's hair and makeup. "Aww Bells you look so beautiful!" I said to her. "Thanks,Y/N. You look quite beautiful yourself." She giggles. "You flatter me, sister." She laughs as My parents come in and it's now time for me and my mother to go out. I walk up to Seth and sit next to him. He looks at me with a smile and says, "Well don't you look just gorgeous?" " You don't look to bad yourself." I laugh at him. "Why thank you my dear, you have touched my heart!" He says sarcastically as he places his hand above his heart. "Bella's gonna walk out in a few minutes, she looks stunning." I tell Seth. "I bet she's not as stunning as you." Before I could say anything, it was time for Bella to walk down. I stood up and seen her with dad. She finally started walking and everyone was looking at her. She smiled at me and Seth and looked at Edward.

They said their vows and so on and now everyone was slow dancing and me and Seth went outside. I was laughing at a joke Seth had told me about Eleazar and how he look like actual Dracula. We were just walking and then another slow song came on. "Shall I have this dance?" He said holding his hand out to me. "We shall." I say while laughing and we start to dance.

We were dancing then Seth breaks the silence. "Remember how you said that Bella looked stunning?" He asked. "Yes?" I say. "Well, Y/N, she might have been beautiful along with all the other girls there, but you were the most drop dead gorgeous girl there, anywhere in fact." He said while looking at me intensely. "Umm, thank you-" "No Y/N, I mean it! Seriously." He paused for a second. "I really like you, I have liked you since, I don't know, Forever?" He said and I looked at the ground. Just then Edward and Bella came out, and Jacob revealed himself from the shadows,he unexpected to see me and Seth. Seth didn't care there was people there,he still went on. "Feel this?" He said holding my hand and bringing it to his chest, and feeling his racing heart beat. "That's because of you. You make me so nervous- and I can't stand being without you- hell, Y/N, I imprinted on you!" And just then my world stopped. Everything was going to fast and turns out my best friend was in love with me also. I liked him but I wasn't sure I was ready to do this yet. And the imprint, Seth had told you about imprints a long time ago. Never did he mention, "oh and you're my imprint!" No! He kept it from you! "Don't you feel any love for me?" He asked. "Seth I like you. But I'm not ready... not ready fir this everything is going way to fast- and this! Imprinting? Seth if you would have told me, maybe we could have been together by now!" I replied. "Y/N,we can take this slow-" I was walking away. Till Seth grabbed my wrist. "Seth I need time." Is all I say before I walked away. I had completely forgot that Jacob, Bella, and Edward were there.

I wasn't ready. And quite frankly, I wasn't prepared, nor informed. I like him. But I need to grow to love him.

I walked home and went to my bedroom. A sudden since of sadness hitting my body like I had lost a loved one. I thought he hated me. Little did I know he was waiting for me.

[konchitsya-leto]

phrases and dialogues i saw floating out there in the internet as foxes!

-

Neil: i'm going to go and get the healthiest 6-8 hours long sleep. i have 2 hours to do so

-

Allison: yesterday i saw you with a boy

Andrew: it's my friend

Allison: you were kissing

Andrew: my very close friend

-

Dan: after an argument some people feel they might have been too rude. i always feel like i've had to be ruder. like, maybe, starting a fight might've been of a not so bad choice. at least i should have kicked that moron's ass just once.

-

Aaron: ach du heiliges aufmerksamkeitsdefizitsyndromkind

-

Nicky: Seth, hi! i have a favour to ask of you. can you laugh less? you know, they say laughing prolongs your life, and i'd like you to die sooner. sorry for being rude

-

Wymack: for fuck's sake, Andrew Joseph Fucking Minyard! where have you been? we called in every hospital and morgue out there, they said you're admitted to EACH OF THEM

-

Matt: don't aim to do the whole task in one set. break down your main task into subtasks. then break down every subtask into micro-tasks. then break down every micro-task into nano-tasks. and then,

Renee: boom! there are no tasks; everything has dissolved into an existential hole as if it has never existed at all; however, what's even real in this perishable flow of being?

-

Kevin: hi

Aaron: ...hi

Kevin: how are you?

Aaron: good

Kevin: hmm, why not bad?

-

Seth: i have two moods: 1) the fuck you think i'm joking. 2) i'm joking

-

Allison: i haven't completely fallen in love yet, so in my stomach there are caterpillars

-

Aaron: the smartest ones made the smartest move: they died last year

-

Kevin: i drink alcohol and they say i'm alcoholic but when i drink fanta they never say i'm fantastic

-

Neil: i've lost motivation. i need some life goal, my life energy has burnt out

Andrew: i can accomodate you with kicking your ass

-

Nicky: bonjour, motherfucker

Kevin: adios, bitchacho

-

Wymack: don't worry, don't cry

Kevin: drink vodka and fly

-

Renee: do you believe in god?

Andrew: no

Renee: you're such a nice looking guy!

Renee: and such a wrong thing is in your head

-

[during a session]

Betsy: have you ever tried screaming?

-

Andrew: i put the 'hot' in psychotic

Betsy: it's... Totally not how we handle it

-

Allison: sorry, i have no mental resources for that

Aaron: just as how it was yesterday

Allison: just as how it'll be tomorrow

-

Andrew: i like tall men. you walk next to them and can't hear what they are blah-blahing up there

-

Abby: we can't giggle here

Neil: but why?

Abby: well, it's a crime scene?

-

Abby: i'll tell you, jail is no fun

Wymack: you've been in jail???

Abby: once. in Monopoly

-

Abby: you are all really well behaved today. what did you do?

[mamirhodessxox]

Could you do a first date hcs for Seth Rollins pls? ⭐️

First Date <3

Seth Rollins x Fem!Reader

Contents: Fluff, mentions of beer, the cute regular stuff ya know?

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @bones-rhodes @cococodysleevlesshoodie @edtomh

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

-Seth & You are two very simple compatible people, The two of you met when you volunteered as makeup and hair help for the wwe ladies when they were short on makeup and hair artists, he would usually spend his free time in whatever room you were doing hair in just to wither watch you or chit chat & this eventually turned into attraction & you two both agreed on taking things very steady

-He didn’t want to immediately start of with a glitz and glamour for a 1st date because that is stressful to get ready for on the ladies part, you two are into the easy fun stuff & what is more fun that an in town carnival? Exactly.

-Seth is the type of guy to be very proud of being able to pull any kind of woman so he definitely proudly shows you off, holds your hand, wraps an arm around you, feeding you personally because why are you as the love of his life putting in work? Exactly stfu.

-If you got a snow cone that wasn’t the flavor you expected it to be and it genuinely tastes awful to you he is already switching cones, luckily for Seth he eats anything so he has no issue trading snacks

-Seth once made the mistake of bringing his beer onto the ferris wheel and once it started up it shook a little bit and it freaked him out and he ended spilling his beer all over his shirt so he had to walk around with a carnival bought t-shirt that was the most embarrassing thing wver

-When you two go on any of those carnival rides he holds you extremely close in the assumption you might get hurt & honestly, he would rather die in a gorilla pit than you get a singular scratch.

-He’s the type of guy to impress you with winning 10 dozens of stuffed animals at the carnival games instead of impressing you with the riches, every-time he wins a teddy bear he immediately gives it to you “I just won this thing are you in love with me yet or what” “yes baby I’m very much in love with you.”

-One mistake you do make though is play a competitive game with him, don’t do that, like ever, he is easily competitive and will make it a goal to win.

-He really likes fire work shows so when the event is closing up you two would sit in the back of his car in the trunk and watch the fireworks and just cuddle while he’s internally freaking out. He has the biggest crush on you if you haven’t already noticed.

-later in your guy’s relationship he hates secrets or having to keep a secret, Seth is a total blabber mouth so if he thinks he’s in trouble over anything he immediately runs to you or calls you in the middle of the night and starts word vomiting over the most stupidest thing he did “I just stood next too Liv Morgan & I was like omg her hair looks good what if the love of my life Y/N did it and i was staring at her hair for too long & She glared at me and now she probably thought I was being some weirdo fucking creep but I swear I wasn’t I WAS JUST TRYING TO OBSERVE WHETHER OR NOT YOU DID HER HAIR I’m sorr-“ “Seth, it’s 4 in the fucking morning GO TO SLEEP-“

Manirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[so-much-history-in-these-streets]

AFTG PLAYLIST - NORA'S PICKS

(If Nora blogged it or tagged it, it's here - I hope I got them all, feel free to add if I didn't!)

The Foxhole Court Lean On - Major Lazer & DJ Snake I'm Not A Saint - Billy Raffoul State of My Head - Shinedown

The Sunshine Court Breathe - Lo Spirit

Seth Gordon Hey, What's Up - Munn Someone, Please Come Help - Munn

Neil Josten Scars - Boy Epic

Andrew Minyard Numb Little Bug - Em Beihold

Kevin Day I'm So Sorry - Nico Collins Burning Castles - Nathan Wagner

Jean Moreau Bird Set Free - Sia Movements - Daylily

Jean & Neil Used to the Darkness - Des Rocs

Nicky Hemmick Saints - Echos Cat & Jean My Same - Adele Jeremy & Laila Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Jean/Renee Walk Thru Fire - ViceTone She Is The Sunlight - Trading Yesterday

Minyard Confetti - Charlotte Cardin

Neil/Andrew Perfectly Broken - Banners

Jeremy Knox I Am - Tom Walker Best Day Of My life - American Authors

Jean/Jeremy The Other Side - The Greatest Showman Stargazing - Myles Smith

Carry You Home - Alex Warren

Kevin & Jean

Shinedown - Through The Ghost Xavier & Min A Boy Named Pluto - Hailey Knox Jean & Elodie (I’m Guessing, tagged: J&E) All of the Stars - Ed Sheeran Cody Winter Not Like I’m In Love With You - LEW

"To be tagged later" A Friend Like You - Andy Grammer

(tagged as 'not technically a TSC song' or as 'writing' in 2023) You're Not Alone - Saosin Hear Me Now - Framing Hanley Darkest Hour - Astrid S Might Love Myself - Baretooth My Brother - MisterWives Wings - Birdy Depression - Nathan Wagner Love Me Now, Or Lose Me Later - Kygo, Matt Hansen Untagged - (maybe just music she likes) Shots - Imagine Dragon Let's Hurt Tonight - One Republic La Di Die - Nessa Barrett I'm Doing Fine - Mike Waters Who Are You - SVRCINA Stole the Show - Kygo ft Parson James Sound of Surviving - Nichole Nordeman Pieces - Daughtry

[sees-writes]

I love that Dale and Warren Burgess full on took their role as older cousins to Kendra and Seth so seriously, becoming as protective of them as older siblings would. I mean:

“‘Maybe you should just feed me to him (Olloch),’ Seth said.

‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ Grandma said…

‘He’ll have to eat me to get to you.’ Dale said. ‘Whether you like it or not.’”

This is Book 2 RotES

“The knife at her side had Kendra’s full attention. She realized that the wrong words or action might get her stabbed.

…

Warren stopped into view, hands in his shopping cart, eyes on Civia. Kendra had never seen him look quite so serious.

…

“Warren stopped. ‘I don’t care who you are,’ he said. ‘You harm Kendra and I’ll break your neck.’”

This is Book 5 KthDP

-

Dale was fully ready to fist fight a whole ass demon to protect Seth. Warren told the LAST Eternal that he did not give a shit and would end her to protect Kendra. I just love how ride or die these to are, pure Burgess blood right there.

[panlight]

I feel so badly for everyone but Bella around the holidays. Charlie's first true holiday season with Bella is entirely ruined by Bella's depression, and subsequent ones are just weird. Renee probably never sees Bella in person again, even at the holidays. The entire rest of the Cullens don't spend the holidays with Edward and company despite thinking that they all might die and I can't see Edward being any more thoughtful afterwards. Billy spends every holiday season from BD on alone because Jake's with the Cullens and his other children left. Leah has to spend holidays with the woman she hates and her natural enemy. But Bella gets her "perfect piece of forever" which probably includes holidays exactly how SHE likes them.

Yeah and like, again, I GET it, she's the main character, the focus will be on her. But SM as the author could have considered the other characters more.

I mean the whole Christmas at Charlie's is . . . weird. Why would Jacob's pack and Sam and Emily be having Christmas at Charlie's house? Seth and Leah, yes, totally makes sense, because their mom is dating Charlie. But the others? Embry's not with his mom? Quil's not with his mom and grandpa? They're at Jacob's imprint's grandpa's house? Why? I guess the best answer is that it's actually SUE hosting Christmas and they're just doing it at Charlie's house because . . . idk . . . first Christmas without Harry is too sad (it is the first Christmas since he died, right?)

The movie version with the smaller group at least makes more sense!

I do understand that they could be having multiple Christmases as many families do but it's still weird that so many of the La Push crew is having Christmas at Bella's dad's house. Did Jacob Alpha Order them to show up?!

But none of the Cullens are invited? Carlisle fanboy Charlie didn't invite him? Or were they invited but turned it down because they had all those other vampires around?

And poor Billy :( I hope at least in BD Rachel and Paul spent some time with him, as Paul's not mentioned being at Charlie's.

[desiresiwant]

Something About You Chapter Two

pairing: Seth Clearwater X Black!OC

word count: 5.8k~

description: Seth Clearwater finally imprints on Diamond Hicks, someone who just isn’t looking love. While she struggles with her feelings and promises, Seth struggles to find a balance between his new and old self so he can become the wolf his imprint needs.

a/n: Some characters might sound ooc, some barely had talking scenes in the movies—which most this fic is based off of— but oh well. These are my fun interpretations and inspired interpretations from other fics I’ve read and imagination. If there’s a warning I skipped that’s addressed in the SAY (something about you) Masterlist, let me know. And let me know what you think !

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

Chapter Two | First Impressions Are Never The Best

La Push, Washington | February 9, 2024

        𝗦𝗘𝗧𝗛 𝗚𝗥𝗜𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗞 burning her handprint through his skin that felt more like a pinch, but it was nothing compared to finally imprinting after years of being stuck as the third wheel and constantly teased he would die alone without his other half.

        And he was convinced of this faith bestowed upon his pack. He had met every girl within the reservation to Forks and still, nothing. No one caught his attention. No one had his heart jumping and his lungs deprived of oxygen as she took up space in his head—his world consumed and completed by a missing puzzle piece, just as intense as every member who’ve imprinted have said it was.

        Seth had gone on many double dates Embry would set up, and he’d tag along given he had nothing better to do and hoped one of his dates was the woman he was desperately searching for. Plus Embry knew Seth wouldn’t decline as everyone else had. His good heart refused him too. But no more did he have to wait for his imprint.

        For her.

        And fuck, she’s so beautiful.

        Eyes brown like the two moonless nights with honey swirls. Lips perfectly round, soft, and warm like a fresh batch of cookies with lingers of alcohol and barbeque chips. Dark brown skin untouched by blemishes and her scent was like a drug. Chills scorned along his body and pumped blood throughout his system, tightening the space within his shorts. Everything about this woman excited Seth. There were no words in his vocabulary to describe her beauty other than a masterpiece.

        He knew this pit in his stomach wasn’t some unheard-of sickness, but his wolf leading Seth to her. His imprint. Who was now in pain because of him.

        As soon as she made contact with his face, she yanked back her hand with a painful yelp. Whatever was in her hands slipped as she grabbed her tingling palm for comfort, somehow tripping over herself. Seth was quick to grab her flailing arm, pulling her toward him so she could balance herself, but he was pushed off which sent her falling back to the sand. 

        Seth attempted to reach for her again to help her up. He was desperate to touch any part of her to prove this wasn’t a dream and this woman was, in fact, real. His . But just as he was mere seconds from taking her hand—a hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him back with such strength only reserved for another supernatural species, or his pack mate and cousin, Kimi.

        “Dude, what the fuck is your problem? We go around kissing people now?” She defended his imprint, sizing him like he’d lost his mind. And perhaps he had but for all the right reasons.

        “Let me go.”

        It returned when Seth successfully shrugged off her grip, further distancing him from his imprint still struggling off the ground. This frustrated Seth and his wolf very much that an inhuman growl rumbled from his chest. Confusion struck across Kimi’s face. She followed his gaze toward her friend, back to him, to her, then back to him again. 

        Kimi removed her hand immediately with a gasp, “Oh my god.” Then even louder, in a higher tone, almost a squeal, “oh my god! Seth, is this for real? Is this actually happening?” Her eyes lit up with excitement upon figuring out Seth had imprinted. She didn’t need to see in his mind to know when it was obvious. 

        It always was.

        He gave a sheepish shrug while pushing back his thick hair, failing to bite back his radiate smile. “I think so.”

        But that wasn’t all; his skin felt tingly, his stomach bloated with butterflies, and he was sure his heart would explode by how fast it pounded. 

        Kimi squealed in his ear, playfully punching his shoulder. 

        “Alright, alright. If you don’t mind,” Seth gestured toward the obvious, still needing help. Kimi apologized and allowed him to do his thing. 

        “Stop,” the woman stopped Seth from helping her to her feet, and like an obedient dog, he listened. “I need a moment. The world’s spinning and it won’t stop.”

        She remained on her knees, sinking her face into her palms with a groan. Her pitch-black braids curled at the ends fell over her shoulders despite it tied back from her face. Seth couldn’t tell if she was tipsy, drunk, or sober enough. Her breath reeked of alcohol, especially their sacred specialty. He followed the scent to the red cup in Kimi’s hand. 

        As if she knew he was conducting a short-lived investigation, she lifted her hands with defeat. “Hey, don’t huff and puff at me. It was her choice! She’s a grown-ass woman able to make her own decisions. Take it up with her, not me.”

        Seth couldn’t argue with that. He could never be against one’s choice, especially his imprint. Who was he to dictate that? She didn’t look any older than in her early twenties, still a grown woman able to make her own decisions.

        “How much did she have?” Seth asked, carefully surveying his imprint.

        “Just a sip, I swear. A big one though.”

        Just a sip of that shit was enough to have any person brave enough like this. Kimi grew accustomed to the drink that she didn’t have a bigger effect. This worried Seth very much, but stopped every part of his being from hovering over her just as she said not to do.

        He felt useless and didn’t know how to help her properly.

        “Diamond,” Renesmee knelt beside his imprint in a flash and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay? What happened?”

        Diamond? Is that her name?

        Seth’s imprint, Diamond, gave a weak nod. “Yeah, I’m good. Would've been better had this guy not assaulted me!” She gestured a firm hand toward Seth as she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her black jacket, wiping off her gloss too.

        Kimi pointed at Seth and laughed. It was the funniest moment for her.

        But not so much for Seth whose heart crumbled at such accusations. “What? I didn’t assault you, I—“

        “You kissed me unprovoked!”

        “It wasn’t—it’s not like that, I swear. I didn’t…I wouldn’t…” Seth trailed once putting everything together. Technically he did assault Diamond. No matter the context, he kissed her unprovoked which classified as sexual assault. 

        This was not a good look for him. Not the first oppression he imagined. It’s possible he could be loving her from jail if she reported the incident, which Seth very much wished to dissuade. 

        He dipped his head with guilt, nervously licking his lips. “I’m sorry. I got too excited and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

        “You weren’t thinking? All the space in the world and you still came up to me? Are you drunk?” Diamond questioned with a scoff, to which his head dipped even further, almost like a puppy getting caught mutilating their owner's shoes. 

        He wasn’t drunk but wished he was even though he felt like it. It would’ve been easy to excuse. “Please don’t hate me.” Seth practically begged. 

        Diamond’s glare stung. Her walking away stung even more, though her heavenly scent blessed his nose. He could bathe in it if it was possible. But Seth refused to allow her to leave without explaining himself. It’s the least he could do to prove he wasn’t a fucking weirdo—that he was more than that and she meant more to him. It also fucking hurts. Not his pride, but his feelings and his wolf. 

        He didn’t like being hated. 

        He never had been the hated one in his family, in his pack, within the reservation, even amongst the vampires. Seth was well-liked. All he had to do was flash his big goofy smile to brighten someone’s day, but it didn’t seem to extend toward his imprint, and he wasn’t used to that.

        “Look, I’m really, really sorry. Could you at least hear me out?” Seth apologized again with as much sincerity left in him. He hoped she would stop to hear him out but didn’t so he grabbed her arm without thinking. “Wait—”

        Diamond flung him off. “Don’t fucking touch me. In fact, don’t come near me ever again. Just stay the fuck away. You’ve done enough.”

        Her words stung. It felt like getting run over thirty times and left for dead. And the worst part about it, Seth was too good of a person to disobey her wish even if his wolf begged him to follow after her. To be near her. To smell her. To touch her— fuck! Even his thoughts were perverted.

        He ran a stressful hand over his face, pushing back his long thick hair with a deep breath in hopes of getting control of himself. He couldn’t afford to piss her off. Or allow his emotions to get the better of him that he ends up regretting his actions later. His emotions were at an all-time high. Her name was singing in his head and could already picture their future together.

        At least Seth was able to watch Diamond walk away. He admired her athletic figure outlined with the black bathing suit he once saw on Kimi. Her braids swayed mid-length and her entire backside was covered in sand. He’d chuckle at the view if he didn’t feel terrible about offending his imprint and ruining any possible future of them together. 

        He’d go after her if he dared but felt it was best to give her space. This was usually easier watching on the sidelines. His pack mates with their imprints, they made it look easy. Everything came easy to them. But now that it was his turn…it was nowhere near damn easy. 

        Jacob clasped a hand on Seth’s shoulder with a chuckle. “She doesn’t hate you. At least, not for long.” 

        Seth rolled his eyes. He didn’t like his Alpha joking about his situation, but it was better him than directly about Diamond. It also wasn’t anything new with their relationship because he’d done the same to him on multiple occasions.

        “Not helpful, Jacob.” Renesmee muttered and he gave a shrug. She touched Seth lightly with a comforting smile, though his eyes never left Diamond. “It’s nothing personal; she just doesn’t know how amazing you are. It’s only the first day. In time, she will know so don’t worry too much.”

        “But I am worried. All I feel is worry and there’s nothing I can do about it since she doesn’t want me anywhere near her.” Seth finally took his eyes off Diamond, meeting Renesmee’s gentle gaze that was free of judgment. “I’m worried I fucked up for good. I’m worried something might happen to her. What if someone kidnaps her? What if a blood-crazed vampire trespasses and sucks her dry? What if—”

        “How about I go after Diamond to make sure she’s okay in your place? Hopefully, it’ll kill any crazed delusions you keep conjuring. Would that help?”

        “Not really, but it’s something.”

        “Seth, Diamond’s my friend. And roommate…and I guess technically family. She’s safe with me.” Renesemee assured.

        “I’ll come with!” Kimi volunteered. 

        Seth hated it wasn’t him going after Diamond, but he trusted Renesmee and sometimes his cousin. Diamond would be safe with them. It was better them than him since he was sure he would do something stupid like kiss her again. 

        “Okay,” Seth finally agreed. “Thank you.”

        “Of course. I knew your time would come and I’m happy it’s Diamond. She’s the sweetest when you get to know her,” which Seth planned on doing, getting to know everything about her. “Congrats though.”

        “Yeah, congrats on finding your imprint. It took you long enough.” Kimi chuckled into another sip of her cup, emptying the remains. “Hopefully she’s too dizzy to remember your face, then technically, you can start all over and not do what you just did.”

        They were both running away to catch up with Diamond before Seth could respond. It was then he noticed his pack mates running in his direction with big smiles on their faces, hitting his shoulder with aching strength and combating him with their congratulations. All but Leah who went home after her run to her imprint. 

        “You went right in for it,” said Quil, his unruly curly hair still having a mind of its own. “Seeing it unfold was something straight out of them rom-coms Claire forces me to watch. There’s literal goosebumps along my arms.” He extended his arm to showcase tiny bumps. 

        Seth’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment as he started second-guessing everything. “Did I come in too hot? Was it too much?”

        “She walked away didn’t she?” Paul chuckled.

        They all laughed at him. Laughter that diminished bits of his confidence, and as he played back the scenario, the more he cringed. He palmed his face and groaned out. 

        I should’ve gone about this differently, he told himself. 

        Embry’s voice picked up in the mixture of mockery and laughter, “you just couldn’t wait could you? I don’t blame you. That’s a woman right there—a whole lotta woman you’ve never dealt with. You sure you can handle that?”

        The crease between Seth’s brows deepened when he perked from his hands. “What do you mean? O-of course I can handle her. Why wouldn’t I? Aren’t we not made to be?” He defended, possibly missing his point.  

        This confused him very much. The whole point of the imprint was to reconnect the other half of another, the missing piece to a puzzle. While everyone had their own theories as to why imprinting had its purpose, Seth strongly believed it was a means to finding his soulmate. A nearly perfect match that brought together two lonely souls that desperately needed each other to sparkle in different ways that unified their connection. 

        Diamond wasn’t a conquest able to bear Seth healthy strong wolves or an insurance to pass along the gene—she was a woman Seth wanted to cherish and love, both the good and bad. He couldn’t wait to express that part of himself. It was also why he failed to understand what Embry meant. 

        If Diamond was a challenge, it was one he welcomed with open arms. 

        Embry shook his head with a hum. “You have much to learn, Seth. A fine ass woman like—”

        A growl rumbled from Seth’s chest. Something he never had done before which caught everyone by surprise. It didn’t sit well that someone he knew and respected would compliment his imprint in ways that were obviously presented and needed no words to explain. 

        Embry lifted his hands with mocked fear. “Oooh jealous Seth finally comes out to play. This isn’t the Seth I’m used to. I like it.”

        “The puppy is no more. The big dog has come to play.” Paul teased, giving everyone another opportunity to laugh at him. All but Jacob who came to his aid, though it’s obvious by the smile on his face the situation humored him.

        “Alright, leave him alone. You know the law; imprints are off-limits. That includes unwanted comments about one’s imprint you yourself wouldn’t want another describing yours—that is when you imprint.”

        Embry didn’t take offense to this. He was well-versed with women that if he didn’t imprint he would never be alone. His charms and natural charisma did the job for him. Pretty sure he invited two women just to fool around behind their backs. “All I’m saying is that there is no way in hell Seth can handle a woman. You have the body of a man but the face of a baby with the mindset of a boy. You don’t even have your shit together and play games all day. How are you going to take care of your imprint when you barely can take care of yourself?”

        “I’m not a baby.” Seth defended, yet couldn’t help the pout in his tone that proved otherwise.

        “You’re still the youngest in the pack.” Quil pointed out.

He wasn’t. There were many new young shapeshifters after the mess with Renesmee and the Volturi caused and all the foreign vampires that was brought to their land, but the pack would always consider Seth the youngest. Even younger than the actual youngest.

        “Yeah, but that doesn’t make me incapable of requiring the skills needed to get my shit together. I got a job at Sam’s auto shop, enough savings for emergencies, decent credit, a car, and I take online classes. I can take care of my imprint!” Seth clenched his fist, his chest puffing with burning rage. He must get his wolf in control or he might accidentally phase and expose their existence, but he desperately wanted to beat the shit out of Embry—out of all of them for doubting him in a moment where their support was most needed. “You don’t even know her—none of you do. You don’t know what she needs.”

        “Apparently you don’t either cause she walked away.” Embry muttered under his breath, which everyone including Seth heard.

        That was the last straw.

        But before Seth could do anything, Jacob quickly stepped between the two with his hand firm against Seth’s chest. “Alright, alright, fuck off Embry. All of you back off and give us some space.” And that they did because it wasn’t an order from a friend or family, but an order from their Alpha. Aside from Paul who was still part of Sam’s pack and second-in-line. Then he turned to Seth and motioned his head. “Come on. Let’s cool you down before show yourself and expose our ass.”

        He had to pull at Seth’s arm to keep him from growling at Embry who finally decided to back off. The two had a playful relationship, but there were times when Embry would go so far that it was no longer fun. It’s no secret the pack viewed Seth as the baby—which that he was, and was the youngest to ever phase—but he no longer wanted that title lingering around until death. Not when he has something to prove and someone to improve for. 

        Jacob planted Seth down into a beach chair that was wet from the previous owner and handed him an ice-cold water bottle to cool himself down since he declined his offer of beer. Not that Seth wasn’t much of a drinker, which was true, but he already felt drunk off his imprint. He’d been weak in the knees since the second he met those honey-brown eyes, struggling to gain control of his consciousness that wished nothing more than to kiss Diamond again. 

        His tongue glided along his pink lips where the stickiness of Diamond’s gloss stained. Reminiscing the warmth of those soft lips burned his face a deep red color, a taste he yearned for so badly it ached. Truth be told, it was Seth’s first kiss. He hoped that part wasn’t obvious, not that he remembered much of how it went down given one moment he was in the parking lot, then was slapped within seconds. 

        He should’ve gone about it differently. Approached her differently. Kissed her differently. Fuck—now that the high was settling with each cold sip, it just might’ve been the worst kiss on the planet. 

        Good thing Seth’s pride wasn’t a factor; he was willing to learn how to better himself to please Diamond. He’s always been a people-pleaser, that was no secret too. At least this time it wouldn’t be taken advantage of. He refused Embry’s words to get to him. 

        “Ignore Embry. He’s just being a fucking pain in the ass, purposely riling you up since it’s easy to do now that you’re an imprinted wolf. Likely jealous the youngest in the pack imprinted before him.” Jacob popped open a cold beer and sipped the majority of it in one sip. “Don’t let him tell you any differently; you’ll know what your imprint needs. It’s in our nature to learn and adjust.”

        Seth honestly didn’t wish to waste another breath speaking on Embry. He didn’t matter when Diamond existed. “You must know of Diamond since Nes is close with her? What do you know? Where has she been my entire life?” 

        The cool water quenched his thirst and calmed any lingering anger that was present before.

        “She’s Nes’ roommate from Florida who runs track for U.W, alongside Kimi and Tayen. I’ve been to a few of her meets in support with Nes and she’s crazy talented. No doubt we’ll one day see her competing in the Olympics.”

        Seth felt a sense of pride through Diamond’s accomplishments. Sports wasn’t the path he desired since he could easily dominate in it, but could as quickly get banned because of the unspoken rage that came with being a competitive shapeshifter. He didn’t know how Kimi did it being that she was also a part of the pack, but he couldn’t wait to support Diamond’s journey to the big screens. A gold medal would look good in their future house, displayed as soon as they entered.

        …but that excitement started to dial down when realizing she attended the University of Washington located in Seattle. Nearly four hours away from the reservation. His entire life. 

        This was a decision he needed to think about within his space and decided to stick to the main conversation. “What else?” Seth inquired.

        “I could tell you every little detail spoken—”

        “Good. Because I want to hear all of it.”

        “—but Nes would kill me for exposing her like that and some things aren’t for me to say.” Said Jacob and Seth quickly understood his point, but he desperately needed to know everything about his imprint. It was in his right to know. Plus it wouldn’t matter much when they shared minds while phasing. “Speaking from personal experiences, it’s best you learn about your imprint from her. Not by the words of others—but from her mouth and what she chooses you to know about her. Besides, Nes’ information has done enough.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “Alice.”

        Seth nodded. “Of course.”

        “According to Nes, it almost didn’t happen tonight as planned because Diamond changed her mind last minute about coming out. But she was determined to set the future back on course when Alice called about the decision change and made her come. If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have imprinted. At least not for another while longer. I’m sure Nes would’ve found a way to force you both in the same room.”

        Seth knew of Alice’s abilities but never the extent of how far out into the future she could see, but thought it was one of the coolest abilities on earth. All of the Cullen’s abilities were out of this world. There were times Seth wished he obtained unique gifts beyond what he already was, but he wouldn’t change a thing even if the opportunity presented itself.

        Becoming a werewolf was the best thing to happen in his life despite the circumstances and loved the good and bad that came with it. It was part of his identity and his culture. Without it, imprinting was impossible. He then wouldn’t have ever met Diamond. 

        He was thankful to his closest friend and technically his niece through the marriage between Charlie and his mother, Renesmee, for making this possible. And to Alice for caring enough to look into his future. This day by far topped the best day in his life. 

        “Nes has a good heart. She’s always looking out for me.” Seth said with a warm smile and Jacob nodded in agreement.

        “You have a good heart too. You deserve a life outside of this pack and someone to take all of your attention so you’re not on my ass about Alpha duties.”

        Seth drew back in defeat. “Hey now! I care about this pack as much as you do.”

        “I know you do. I appreciate it more than you know, and you better not ever make me admit that shit again 'cause I’ll deny it forever until my grave.” Jacob stood from his seat with a long stretch. “Congratulations though. If Diamond deserves anyone it should be you and you, her too. At least you didn’t imprint on a filthy blood-sucker. Fuck knows we got enough of them running around thinking they own the place.”

        “Your imprint is one. Well, half one.” Seth corrected when earning a look from Jacob. 

        “She’s different. She’s my blood-sucker.”

        Seth scrunched his nose at his hypocrisy, pushing back his curly thick hair that’s grown a few more inches over the months. Such demeaning words to describe vampires weren’t housed in his vocabulary but the pack had various creative ways to name them.

        Jacob left after a while to enjoy the festivities and deal with Alpha duties to catch up with Renesmee. Seth stood back to finish his water and enjoy the salty breeze, hopefully giving his imprint enough time to settle her emotions.

        But he missed her already. 

        Diamond consumed every inch of his mind that Seth could die happily knowing her face was on his mind last. He allowed nature to take over and tracked her scent to one of the blue tents scattered along the beach, behind the posted sign so many wouldn’t wake up in water, being swept out in the ocean.

        He lingered nearby like a weirdo, unsure how to approach the tent. Or if it was even appropriate after what he had done. Inside, Kimi, Tayen, and Renesmee’s voices were identified. The four were laughing about a previous conversation before Seth arrived, and he relaxed at Diamond’s uncontrollable laughter. 

        She’s okay.

        Renesmee wasn’t surprised to find Seth lingering around as she exited the tent, still warm with laughter. She motioned her head and he followed behind without a word.

        “Is she alright?” Seth asked when out of earshot from the tent. Diamond’s laughter was a good indicator, but he needed to be sure. 

        “You spooked her but she’s fine. She’s more focused on stopping the world from spinning than the fact you stole her first kiss.”

        He stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes widened with shock. “ F-first kiss? ” Seth exclaimed and Renesmee threw her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

        “Oh my god! I wasn’t supposed to say that—or anything at all. Just pretend you didn’t hear what I said. We’re just going on a small walk with no mentions of what I didn’t say.”

        “I can’t just unhear that, Nes! It’s literally embedded into my brain!” Seth threw back his head with a groan, dragging a hand over his face. “Fuuck. If she didn’t hate me before, she definitely does now.”

        What should’ve been a special moment was classified as sexual assault, ruined because he couldn’t keep his wolf in check. There was no backing out of this or erasing the memory. He would forever be known as the weirdo who stole her first kiss.

        “Hate is a stretch.” She attempted to twist the narrative. “She just doesn’t know you yet.”

        “You can hate someone you don’t know.” Seth pointed out with panic. “W-what am I going to do? What can I do? How can I make this better so she doesn’t think I'm a creep? Or someone who ruined a special moment?”

        Renesmee saw her friend was out of luck with getting on his imprint’s good side and knew if anyone had the answers it was her. After all, they were roommates. They’re with each other almost every single day, if not, all night. 

        “How about some food?” Renesmee suddenly offered.

        “Oh, no, I’m not hungry right now.” Seth turned down the offer. “I am, but I can’t eat without settling this matter first. It’s eating me alive. No pun intended.”

        She slapped Seth’s shoulder with strength that nearly made him lose his balance. “Not you, silly—Diamond. I was just on my way to make her a plate since she’s hungry for actual food rather than chips or whatever leftovers she brought, but you’re here now! You can offer it as a peace offering.”

        Seth was down with the idea and was already heading toward the grills to do his duty as Diamond’s wolf by taking care of her. “I can do it! I’ll pack every inch of the plate with everything she likes.”

        Renesmee pumped her fist with support. “That’s the spirit!”

        With the plate in hand, staring down at containers of various foods, Seth realized something. “…what does she like? Is she picky? A vegan? On a diet, needing to hit a certain calorie intake a day? Is she a hotdog woman or hamburger? I should just pack it with fruits instead to be safe, right? But you said real food and fruits aren’t enough to satisfy hunger. Let’s take this to the top.”

       “You’re seriously overthinking this, Seth.” She teased but took the time to point out things she’d witnessed Diamond eating before. 

        Jacob didn’t have to deal with this. Renesmee consumed both food and blood. Though she preferred blood, she still needed bits of human food to sustain a proper diet. The two went hunting weekly and Bella and Esme kept her well-fed; she never needed to step in a kitchen, unlike Diamond who was human through and through. Someone who needed a good balance to maintain a healthy figure and energy as a track runner. 

       As he packed the plate with various foods—cheeseburger with extra pickles and ketchup, beans, fries, and more—Seth had more worries on his nonexistent plate. Like if the subject matter of the ‘imprint’ slipped into Diamond’s ear. 

        “Did you—”

        “Of course not. That’s for you to tell her, not me, Kimi, Tayen, or anyone else.” Renesmee just knew what he was asking before it was asked. I guess I am pretty predictable.

        Relief filled his system. He very much wanted to tell Diamond himself about the imprint. He wanted to be there at every step of the way to answer her questions and clear any confusion. He couldn’t wait to get this off his chest. “So I hear she attends U.W? Practically a track star in the making if not one already.”

        “Yep, full ride and all.” She must’ve caught the contemplative look on Seth’s face which explained the nudge to his shoulder. His smile was small and wary and somewhat forced. “I know that face—Jacob had the same look when it was time to leave forks before people got suspicious, and I decided to attend college. He had to make a difficult decision as Alpha to stay with me while compromising his duty to his pack. You want to follow her to Seattle?”

        Seth adjusted the bun sliding off the burger and made room for more beans as Renesmee suggested. It seemed his imprint loved baked beans and lots of ketchup.“I have no choice but to. I physically can’t be apart from Diamond and neither can she once she starts noticing. It hurts now, imagine what a four-hour distance would do. I mean, there’s no way in hell I would ask her to drop everything to stay here with me, not when her life and career are set in Seattle. There’s nothing for her here.”

        “I can talk to my dad about helping you transfer,” she offered without hesitation while retying her cover-up that loosened from a gust of wind. “He’d be more than happy to sponsor your studies if money’s a problem. He adores you already and tolerates you out of most wolves, not to mention we’re family. He’ll do it. My mom will make him.”

        “I’ll consider it. Thanks.”

        Seth could use the help. Part-time at Sam’s auto shop paid enough to take care of small bills and eat, but not enough to survive in the big city. Not even Quileute Nation benefits would cover half of it aside from maybe tuition. 

        But this was more than that. This was the biggest decision in his life; a decision that placed him in the position of leaving behind his home, his family, his life, and his duties to the pack. Everything for a moment he anticipated the second he was born. 

        He needed to talk to Leah. 

        But first, he needed to feed his imprint. Diamond was his first priority.

        Once the plate was fixed and perfectly balanced with proteins, veggies, and fruits—Seth delivered the meal to Diamond. Renesmee stood aside for support but was out of frame. His palms were sweating from how nervous but so excited he was to see her again. He was sure his shaking leg was mimicking his invisible wagging tail, faster when Diamond came out of the tent. Only partially because the cool breeze caught her off guard.

        Her smile faltered at Seth’s presence, replaced with a thin line. “What do you want?”

        She remembered him. Great. She didn’t smell in distress as opposed to earlier which was a start, but she wasn’t exactly relaxed either. 

        “F-for you,” Seth offered the plate of food as a peace offering. He might’ve gotten too carried away and packed more than she could handle, but she didn’t seem to oppose. Even as her expression remained cold and offended, her stomach stated otherwise.

        Seth couldn’t help thinking how pretty she looked even while glaring daggers at him. All boosted with energy that her attention was on him, and he was near her again. Her presence calmed him and his wolf. Not to mention the raging boner threatening to expose his physical desire for her.

        “Did you do something to the food?” Diamond eyed the plate with skepticism, hiding further behind the tent’s entrance with a shiver. She wouldn’t have to be cold if she accepted him and invited him inside to snuggle.

        Seth’s brows furrowed in confusion at the assumption, angling himself in a not so awkward position. “Aside from adding extra pickles, ketchup, and more baked beans…no?”

        “What is this then? Where’s my friend? The one who was supposed to be fixing this? I was clear with my words and meant it.”

        “Umm…” Seth’s gaze shot to Renesmee who frantically shook her head not to look her way or mention her. “Nes had to, um…” He had to think of something quick. “Help with something. I know her—we’re good friends. Family actually, I’m her uncle through marriage though we don’t really do the label thing. At least out loud we don’t, but we grew up together. B-but anyway, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was uncalled for and I swear I’m not like that—never ever been like that and would never do something like that ever again.”

        She hummed.

        A nervous smile stretched across his face, hoping to win her over if the food was least appealing. Seth could tell she was contemplating her options, but ultimately, listened to her hunger and snatched the plate from his hand. The tent zipped back up before he could tell her to enjoy the meal. 

        Renesmee offered a thumbs up.

        With his hand clenched tight, Seth pumped the air with a silent praise and a tiny jump. The tension between them was the least of his concerns when she accepted his peace offering in the end. That was a start. A better interaction than how he imagined it would be.

        He succeeded in his first duty to her. Now he could ponder his decisions and thoroughly plan out his next step.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read more at :

-> SAY Masterlist (everything you need to know about this fic and what it contains, especially important A/N)

-> SAY Chapter Masterlist (easy access to all chapters posted here)

-> Ao3 (if you prefer to read this fic there. It’s cross-posted)

[salmonskinrolltf]

hey there these video tapes sound pretty far out. The thing is, I’m this awkward, average looking gay dude who is slowly approaching a mid life crisis. I work as a math teacher at a local community college. And my days are filled with teaching students and my nights are spent wondering what I did with my life. Anyways, I really wanted to watch the Neighbors movie with Zac Efron. I’ve had the biggest crush on his obnoxious frat boy character! I mean that body is insane!

You eagerly tear open your Be Kind Rewind package and pull out the Neighbors VHS, barely noticing the die that falls into your hand. Nor do you notice your subconscious decision to toss it onto the floor, rolling a 3 in the process. As you place the tape in the VCR (has that always been there?), you hit rewind so it can play from the beginning.

You can’t wait to vicariously live the frat boy life you missed out on, even if it’s filtered through the perspectives of Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne as annoyed adults in their mid-30s, which hits much closer to home than you want it to. Excitement swells in your chest to the point that you feel almost giddy. You need to calm down a bit, so you take a swig of the beer you don’t remember putting on the table in front of you. Not on a coaster, even. That’s so unlike you…

As soon as the frothy beverage passes your lips, you feel a sense of calm dullness washing over you. You run a hand through your hair, which seems straighter and less tangled than usual.

As you take another sip, your phone pings with an email from a student asking about a particularly tough problem you presented during your lecture that day. You look up and see that the movie is still rewinding, so you suppose you have time to answer. But as soon as you open the email to explain the answer, the numbers start swimming in front of your eyes. The 3 should go… where again? And why the hell are there so many letters in there? This is math. Math is numbers, right?

Fuck, this is too frustrating. You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and chug the rest of your beer. You suddenly need to piss like a racehorse, so you head to the bathroom. Once you’re done, the dull buzzing in your head prevents you from even considering washing your hands, but you do stop by the sink when you see your reflection in the mirror.

Holy shit. Your face is, like, morphing or something. Your eyebrows thicken, your nose elongates, your jaw cracks and broadens. You feel a squirming feeling under your shirt and you tear it off, watching as muscle blossoms from beneath your skin. Any excess weight sloughing off, just like every last bit of body hair, leaving you with a taut and smooth torso. A brief flash of pain accompanies a tattoo that appears on your newly built pec.

You try to summon a feeling of shock, but you just… can’t. That dull buzzing is even stronger now. And you look too good, dude! You admire yourself in the mirror, not noticing as the bathroom furnishings change behind you.

You step out of the bathroom into the foyer of a house you no longer recognize. Well, you almost recognize it, but it’s definitely not YOUR house. You might have been able to put your finger on where you are, but something distracts you. A shirtless Zac Efron is standing in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned and a finger to his lips.

Is this… Are your fantasies coming to life? But in your fantasies, he’d be kissing you by now. He wouldn’t be giving you the shooing motion he’s currently doing. Za- Wait, what was his name? Zaccy? Zaddy? Teddy. Yeah, Teddy. Teddy whispers to you. “Get out of the way man, I’m pranking the new pledge.” You comply, your thoughts still hazy.

Your thoughts remain that way for the rest of the night. And for the rest of the week. And the rest of the month. But despite the constant dull roar, you put a few things together. You’re Pete Regazolli, proud vice-president of Delta Psi Beta. If you weren’t always this way, you don’t care to think about it. You’re still got a massive crush on Teddy, of course. You’re gay after all, and the whole frat knows it. But even if he isn’t into guys that way, at least you still get to spend all your time with him, staring at him when he’s not looking, touching him whenever you get the chance… A chance like the one you have right now, when you’re about to pull off a huge prank on this new pledge who has no idea what’s coming… Bro, it’s gonna be so lit!

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Boo thought of what could happen, Seth was off his fucking rocker. Dragging them to the woods and hunting them like prey. Only a fuck knife as a weapon for them to defend themselves. This is a cruel joke on his side, since it seems he hasn't forgotten the layout of this forest.

Stealing their breathing they thought back to their lessons they got for self defense. Do not hesitate to take control, or you'll die. Standing still behind a tree they listened to the sounds of the night. Trying to locate where he might be, a twig snapped making them shoot deeper into the woods. They don't know where their going but they hear a creek.

Looking around one last time they started crossing it. Cursing as they almost slipped on a rock, then they heard laughter. Fear made their body cold as they turn and saw Seth standing there with a hunting gun.

"FUCK-" Screaming they dodged a bullet for them. Panting they looked down the creek and saw a water fall, not looking at Seth they sprinted to it

"Awweee don't run! It's just more pathetic! I'm going to get you one way or another! You know this, Sugar." Disgust filled their body when they heard the pet name thrown at them. This fucking bastard called them that when he saw the sugar on them from baking once.

They heard the cocking of the gun and without thinking jumped down into the lake below. Hoping they'd get away, gasping for air they swam to the edge of the lake. Coughing up the water they turned and saw Seth's standing there the moonlight casting a huge shadow.

Getting up they ripped off the layers of wet clothes they had on trying to draw them quickly. Thankfully the weather was still warm, they didn't need to worry about dying to frostbite. The next thing they needed to do was get the fuck out of this forest, when did it become this huge? Are they even near the town anymore?.....Is Alphonse even safe?

They didn't stay in one place that would cause them their death. "I need to cover my tracks." Whispering to themselves they decided talking quietly would help them ground themselves in this situation. Stealing their breathing they kicked up dirt to cover their foot tracks, try finding then now dickwad.

Boo doesn't even know what time it was but the sun was coming up. That's either a blessing or a curse, they can see better yes. But their also easier to find now.

[evony256]

DRDT CHAPTER 2 EP 16 SPOILERS

Another quick rundown of my thoughts about this episode but I'm late to this because I didn't get to watch the premiere ❤️ Also this one is a little bit short since I have been rendered speechless (Charles style) by the most recent episode

-Seth Raffield deserves a raise for his voice acting like GOD DAMN

-Ace might be dying but at least the Ace fans are getting an animation with him (I can already see the edits....)

-"Now loading the default XF-Ture personality drivers." XF-TURE?????? WHAT DO YOU MEAN "DEFAULT XF-TURE"????

-"To run this killing game until the death of every participant" Interesting how drdt doesn't have the default "The killing game will continue until there are only 2 people left alive". Very, very interesting....

-MANIFESTING THE TERUKO ULTIMATE LUCK RN!!!

-"Charles, stop looking and cover your eyes!" Awwww cute Charwhit moment <3 but this REALLY ISN'T THE TIME

-The gun will probably not work because of Teruko's luck and she's liv- oh wait nvm Levi's dead

-Most of the fandom (including me) thought that Levi was gonna be the killer and then get executed. I mean he is getting executed so we were somewhat right

-Levi protecting Teruko because she "protected" him in the prologue....

-"He could live, theoretically, but only if he gets immediate medical treatment." And who do you think could do that, huh, Arturo?

-SERIOUS WHIT SPRITE????? SERIOUS WHIT SPRITE????

-ACEVI IS... LIVING????? BUT ALSO DYING????? BUT ALSO LIVING?????

-more pathetic Arturo please I like to see him suffer

-LEVI'S ALREADY DEAD WITH THESE GUYS' ENTIRE MONOLOGUES LIKE DAMN HURRY IT THE FUCK UP

-missed opportunity for "death by horse" but the execution was really unique I've seriously never seen anything like that in any other execution. Also the fact that he didn't even die looking like a bloodied up mess is a much needed change of pace from all the gore in normal danganronpa executions (not saying that that's a bad thing, just that this is something unique)

-imagine if Ace didn't actually have a cardiac arrest from all of the almost-death he's been going through but instead by the confetti. Like what if he has a phobia of confetti and just died right then and there /j

-MORE MONOTV LORE LET'S GOOO

-WAIT ARE WE ACTUALLY NOT GOING TO FIND OUT IF LEVI IS DEAD OR NOT???? Damn, time for Levi fans to go feral

If this post seems somewhat different from my other ones just so you know that it's because I just woke up lmao

BANGER episode though. I wish that I could've been able to show my love for this episode more but I literally have no words

[platinumrosetail]

Hello, I'm new to your blog and I just had a crazy idea about a boy who just read the manhwa Ennead and wakes up one day like Osiris before the events of the story. He then decides to change the story to avoid the events of the story but things go bad to worse when Seth begins to have an obsession with the reader more than he describes that he is a transmigrator and does not want to let him go. (P.S: The boy who transmigrated as Osiris has a personality like Cale Henituse from the manhwa The Count's Family Trash.)

I literally basically had the same idea but female and without that kind of personality in the past lol 😂 also I don’t really read the counts family trash, I have heard and seen a few things but that’s it so I’ll be using a wiki for the personality so I might end up getting a few things wrong on that part 😅 also I wont give the reader green skin don’t worry lol, you can picture green hair (like collei from Genshin) if you want but you won’t have green skin even if it’s basically acceptable to have colored skin that isn’t the normal skin tone yknow? Anyway on with the request shall we?

Character: Seth.

Warnings: noob author, male reader, yandere character, and others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had died; simple as that, you died by you cat's paw who decided to shove it down your open mouth while you were asleep which ended up killing you before you could wake up.

(i asked my friends to suggest a dumb way to die and this is what they came up with lol)

and then you get reincarnated into ennead, bad enough as the main bad guy; Osiris. it was before the story started so thankfully you can stop what had happened in the manwha by not doing what the original Osiris did.

and by doing that is to be lazy! sadly being born as a god doesn't give you that luxury but you try to be lazy when you can. you decided to avoid marrying isis as you don't need to since you have different motives than the original Osiris.

stress started to build up as you try to not do anything like osiris would do and the fact seth didn't marry nephthys like you thought would happen as anubis would be born that way since you didn't take seth's seed and created a flower from it like the original osiris did (hope I remembered that correctly).

the stress that started to build up more that you started to sleepwalk and sleep talk in your sleep which brought you to seth's room as it was really the main focus of you of the stress. seth was awake even though it was late and most would be asleep; specifically wondering how he can get close to you again, he heard talking outside his room so he decided to check it out.

he found you; or well osiris but you're now osiris, sleepwalking and talking in you sleep, he was wondering what made you start sleepwalking and talking as he knew before you had distance yourself from him and both of your sisters that you didn't do that, so while you were asleep and talking in your sleep he listened.

he finally realized that you weren't Osiris but someone that died and reincarnated into him, he decided to confront you and woke you up. when you woke up you weren't expecting to see seth when you were forcefully woken up, he asked who you were and how did you get in osiris, so with no choice as you were caught finally and had no way out, you told him the truth. you had expected him to me mad and try to kill you but he didn't he was surprisingly affectionate with you, what you didn't know was thathe fell in love with you, probably not the same as osiris but close.

(A/n: hope you liked it! the reader's personality probably as close to cale like you wanted but i tried my best to be close to what was asked of me! anyway, hope y'all have a wonderful day/evening/night!)

[codename-adler]

dance 'til you find someone to die for

(also known as dtyfstdf)

What if instead of Seth, Riko had tried to get rid of Aaron?

The night Seth was supposed to "accidently" die, Ravens found their way to Aaron instead. By pure dumb luck, Kevin answers his call for help and from then on, Kevin and Aaron are thrown together to brace themselves for every deadly trap sent their way. The dangerous game they play isn't just Exy anymore, and their hearts might get caught in the crossfire.

Kevaaron, ongoing, 40k, canon-typical CW/TW, M

/here on Ao3/

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 interlude 16 17 18 interlude two 19 20

Misc. Content

#Kathea 🌺

[blushblushbear]

Seth, Haru, Volks and Scale cuddling headcanons pls?

Seth

Does not ask for cuddles

Just lays down beside you and starts hugging

likes to be the big spoon

something might get teased or bitten just to see you flustered

don't mind him B3

actually when you've fully settled into the cuddle he's actually really clingy

will never say it but loves to cuddle so much

his heart flutters whenever you nuzzle into him but he will die before admitting that

Haru

was actually not a big cuddler before you

he partook sometimes but cuddling is for feelings and he doesn't like to get too attached

at least he DIDN'T

now you're never getting rid of him

will always try and start some touching if he thinks he can get away with it

but seriously loves cuddles

even after the fact, he's clinging to you

nuzzling into your neck and holding you close

also likes to be the big spoon but frankly he'll be any spoon as long as he gets to be in a drawer with you

used to be shy about admitting to liking cuddling you cause that makes him sound in love

but now he's like 'of course I do, LOOK AT HOW CUDDLY THEY ARE! How could you not wanna hold that all night??'

melts a lot with affection

he never thought he would but MAN do you kisses and nuzzles make his brain go fuzzy

he's puddy in your hands

Volks

ANOTHER MEMBER OF THE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN ADMIT HE LIKES TO CUDDLE

but the thing is

he does not like to cuddle

he LOVES to cuddle

cuddling is legit one of his favorite things

he loves the feeling of you in his arms

or him in your arms

listening to your calm breathing or heart beat

the idea that you're doing the same

he actually didn't know this about himself before being with you but he's actually pretty needy about physical affection/touch

he's maybe addicted to cuddling

couldn't care less whose the big spoon or the little spoon

as long as you're in each others arms, he's a happy Volks

shy about asking for cuddles but will always do it cause he needs them snuggs man, HE NEEDS TO BE SNUGGLED

Scale

Another dude whose shy about his cuddle needs and will not confirm or admit to how much he loves cuddling

he's got a rep to protect

but he'll also defend that he likes cuddling to his dying breath

likes to slip into your arms with little warning

or wrap around you out of seemingly nowhere

lots of kisses and contented sighs

I think snuggling up with you is one of the only places he truly feels at peace

like he's so on edge all the time but get him in your bed and in your arms and he's fully not paying attention anymore

can't hear you rest of the world, my s/o is playing with my hair and I am melting

lots of soft confessions while in cuddle mode

also likes to bring A+ blanket game

if your defenses are gonna be down, you better be mad cozy

there's also a lot of hands running gently down your back with Scale

like, more so than one would suspect

he likes to rub your back

likes just feeling you there with him