#second is cool hand luke!

[500mlinjection]

I know you’re in a world of darkness and dissatisfaction, I also know the way out

[chamerionwrites]

Another day another version of me having Star Wars feelings about Luke and Leia’s very different experiences with local bad dad Anakin Skywalker

[portablefrailty]

What Rough Beast?

2025 by Portable Frailty

Inspired by William Butler Yeats poem, "The Second Coming." Also influences of Salvador Dali and the film, Cool Hand Luke.

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

[jo-speaks]

POV: you’re at your wedding reception with Luke and you do that trend when your bridesmaids hand him risqué Polaroid pictures throughout the night to get his reaction

WEDDING NIGHT SHENANIGANS

overview: luke gets a few early gifts on your wedding night.

warnings: suggestive content below the cut, mentions of alcohol consumption (other than that it's pretty smooth sailing)

note: this might be one of my favs honestly. thank you for requesting nonnie 🫶

Today didn’t feel real. As of an hour and fifteen minutes ago, you were officially Mrs. Luke Hughes. The ceremony had gone exactly as planned, your wedding dreams coming to life with the man you love waiting for you at the altar. 

Now, you were sitting at the table with Luke, his hand on top of yours as it rested on his thigh, thumbing at the wedding ring that found itself around your finger. You laughed as you watched Jim and your father attempt to do the worm on the dance floor. 

“He’s too old to be doing this.” You joked, your husband laughing along with you.

“You’re telling me.” He replied.

The two of you shared a smile, something that had been happening since the first look. He watched with admiration as the purple strobe light hit your face, illuminating your features. Luke cupped your cheek, the cool feeling of his wedding band sending a chill down your body as he pulled you in for a loving kiss. 

You pulled away after a few seconds, your lips lingering with his. Even with the sweet moment, you decided now was as good a time as any to give Luke a gift. One he could carry in his wallet, glove box, or anywhere else he wanted to get a good look at you when he was away.

“I’ll be right back. M’gonna go talk to my mom.” You whispered, placing a parting kiss on his cheek before standing up and making your way to the table at which his mother and yours were sipping wine. 

One of your bridesmaids noticed you flash her a glance, effectively receiving the signal that it was go time. She grabbed it from her purse before making her way over to Luke.

As she approached, he met her eyes and flashed her a friendly smile, not expecting her to have something to give him. She handed him the Polaroid face down, giggling slightly before walking away again. 

Luke raised an eyebrow before he flipped it over, the other eyebrow coming up as well. In his hand was a picture of you in lingerie, posed in a risque position. A heavy blush rose to his face, hidden by the strobe lights which had now turned red. He could feel himself getting aroused, but not yet to the point where it would be noticeable if he stood up. 

“Lukey! Get over here and come dance!” Quinn called out to his younger brother, not knowing of the gift he just received. 

Luke quickly nodded, stashing the picture in his inner suit pocket, standing up to join his brothers on the dance floor. He snuck a glance at you, seeing you be so innocent and friendly as you chatted with his mother.

~✩~

It had been a few minutes since he received the first of many images for the night. He had processed the first one, not letting it distract him during the dance-off your, now intoxicated, friend had started. Your families and friends had been split up onto the two sides of the floor, one of your best friends currently going against Nico, one of Luke’s best men. 

The room erupted in laughter as Nico began doing what looked like an interpretive dance as she attempted to breakdance. In the midst of all the chaos, another one of your bridesmaids had managed to sneak to the other side, her eyes darting around to find your husband. 

She found him, subtly sneaking up to poke his arm. He looked down at her, seeing she was holding out her hand to silently tell him to do the same. Once he did, he was blessed with another Polaroid. 

He blushed, anticipating what he would be met with as soon as he turned it over. Luke cupped his hand along the side of it as he flipped the small rectangle, his smile widening as he took in the contents of this one.

This time, it was a picture of you covering your breasts with your hands, the rest of your body still on display. Luke covered his face with his hands, catching the attention of his former teammate, Ethan. 

“You alright, man?” He asked, noticing the joyful look on his friend’s face.

Luke nodded, running his hands down his face before they fell back to his side, “I’m good. My girlfriend thinks she’s quite the comedian though.”

“You mean your wife?” Ethan corrected, laughing at the way Luke’s smile grew at the new title. “Well, from the times I’ve met her, she’s fucking hilarious.”

“You have no idea.”

~✩~

The night was still young, the party still thriving. 

By now, Luke had received six more polaroids, all of them making it extremely difficult for him to keep back from dragging you away from the celebration.

However, he managed to keep his composure, laughing with you as the two of you watched, yet again from your table, as Jack got whisked away by three children you recognized as your cousins, all of them bombarding him with questions about hockey.

“You having fun?” You yelled, wanting your voice to be audible over the music.

Luke side-eyed you, a smile tugging at his lips, “This is the most fun night I’ve ever had in my life, baby.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond as you noticed your maid of honour approaching the table. Luke started laughing, rubbing his hands together as he knew exactly what she was bringing him. His reaction caused you to giggle uncontrollably, not expecting him to be this excited.

He put his hands out in front of him like a child begging for candy as she proudly placed the image in his palms. Luke excitedly turned it over, his eyes shutting as he put his head down, his brain short circuiting as he took in the picture. 

This one was you, fully nude, his initials inked into your skin right on your hip. You knew exactly which one this was, having planned the best for last. 

In the previous pictures, your panties had been on in order for the tattoo to be a surprise. You had gotten it a few weeks ago, wanting it to be healed in time for your wedding night, and it had been a struggle to keep it from Luke. Thankfully you had managed to keep the secret, making this moment that much more special.

“Do you actually-” He cleared his throat to compose himself, “Is that actually on your skin?”

You smirked, “Yeah. Thought you’d like it as much as I do.”

By now, the blood had not only rushed to his face, but to his cock as well. He reached over to hold your hand, gripping it slightly to keep his composure as he leaned over, his lips right by your ear.

“Enjoy the night, baby. Because the second we get out of here you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

[bvrnesher]

۶ৎ i — Marry, Kiss or Kill me

tap here for chb masterlist ! part ii here

warnings: language, cursing, alcohol mention, idiot and horny teenagers, sexual tension, make out !

ㅤ୨ৎ —˳ luke castellan ! fem. reader

summary: part i. luke didn't plan that an "I'd fuck her" at a party in the woods would lead to being at night, in a cabin alone with... with her.

"𝗟𝗨𝗞𝗘, 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞, 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦, 𝗢𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟," Chris said, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

Yeah, this was a bit of a twisted version of the classic kiss, marry, or kill, but no one really gave a damn about semantics. Not right now, anyway.

Luke wasn’t exactly feeling it—the whole campfire hangout (or, let’s be real, after-party) in the woods. But it was Sunday, and his so-called friends had dragged him here.

The actual party had died down a while ago, leaving only a handful of them—the ones not completely wasted—still hanging around the fire.

The flames flickered under the moonlight, the trees rustling just enough to send a cool breeze through the small clearing they’d basically claimed as Camp Half-Blood’s official party zone.

"Between…?" Luke asked, taking a slow sip of his beer, already bracing for whatever bullshit Chris was about to throw at him.

"Kayle, Jenna, and…" Chris let the last name hang in the air, scanning the girls around the fire, looking for the perfect final option.

Then, his eyes landed on you.

Oh, he was going to be an asshole about this. His smirk said it all.

He said your name.

Luke didn’t even flinch. Not on the outside, at least. Inside? Different story. His heart pulled one of those stupid, traitorous stunts the second he heard it.

Because Chris knew.

Knew that Luke had called you the hottest girl in camp.

But what Chris didn’t know was that Luke hadn’t even scratched the surface of what he actually thought about you.

Across the fire, you smirked, leaning in to whisper something to your friend from Cabin 4, completely unaware of the storm you’d just walked into.

Luke exhaled slowly, masking it with a lazy smirk of his own as he leaned back against the tree, arms crossing over his chest like this was the easiest question in the world.

"Kill Kayle," he said first, earning an over-the-top gasp from her—not that she actually gave a shit, of course.

"Kiss Jenna," he continued, throwing the redhead a teasing wink.

Then, without hesitation, "And I'd fuck her," he finished, tilting his chin toward you with an infuriatingly smooth grin.

If only you knew how hard it was to keep his voice steady when he said it.

Cheers and whistles erupted through the otherwise quiet forest the second Luke gave his answer. Stifled giggles, teasing remarks, and more than a few suggestive comments filled the air.

And, just to make things worse, when the playful chatter finally died down, the only sound left was the crackling of the fire.

You glanced around.

Every pair of eyes was on you, waiting for your reaction.

Your gaze met Luke’s for just a second—just enough for a spark of heat to shoot down his spine.

You casually tossed your hair over your shoulder, silently thanking the gods that the firelight masked the faint blush creeping up your neck.

"Oh, yeah?" You leaned in slightly. "What an honor, Castellan."

The exaggerated flirt in your tone sent another round of laughter through the group, though it quickly faded as everyone turned to Luke, waiting for his response.

Luke smirked, though his jaw was clenched a little tighter than usual. His posture was relaxed, but if you really looked, there was something a little too controlled about it.

Before he could say anything, a guy from the Apollo cabin jumped in with a wicked grin.

"Luke, care to elaborate?" He nudged him playfully. "What exactly would you do with her?"

"Come on, Castellan, at least take her to dinner first. Three drachmas, and I’ll play background music." He joked. Luke rolled his eyes, shooting him a look that lacked any real bite. Chris, on the other hand, was thriving.

The others laughed and hollered.

You simply smiled—sweet and a little too charming—never once breaking eye contact with Luke.

Luke tilted his head slightly, the firelight reflecting in his blue eyes.

"That," he said smoothly, "is classified information."

Even Clarisse groaned in fake outrage.

"Oh, come on, you can’t just leave us hanging!"

A few beats of suspense passed. Then, finally,

That signature cocky smirk of his curled at his lips as he leaned forward like he was about to let them in on a secret. The others followed suit, huddling closer to listen.

"Well, if you really wanna know…" he started, voice dropping into a teasing whisper.

"Ask her later."

You?

He finished with an easy shrug, feigning innocence. The entire group groaned, clearly unimpressed with his little stunt.

Gods.

There was no way you weren’t blushing now.

And as the words left his lips, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you kind of wanted to find out.

The flickering orange glow of the fire danced across Luke’s face, making him look even more impossibly attractive. And for Luke, that was saying something.

Chris, grinning like the little chaos-bringer he was, let the game roll on after dropping his bombshell for Luke. The guy was going to have a field day tormenting some poor soul from the Hephaestus cabin.

With the attention finally off him, Luke let out a tired sigh. You leaned back, trying to unwind, but it didn’t take long before you noticed his gaze following you every time he thought you weren’t looking.

Honestly, you weren’t fooled. You knew he knew you knew. He never took his eyes off you. Not once. And you didn’t mind it. Not really.

Anyway, Luke wasn’t the type to dwell on things, so he just went with the flow, cracking jokes and making sure the victims of his pranks had a hell of a time.

But everytime he remembered the words, "I’d fuck her" slipping from his lips, his focus wavered. His eyes—those damn eyes—zeroed in on your lips every time you spoke. He couldn’t help it, even if he tried to play it off.

The night kept rolling forward, the fire crackling in the background, the air thick with laughter, alcohol, and the occasional whoop of drunken enthusiasm. And by alcohol, I mean the kind that was totally not allowed at camp.

You were enjoying yourself—honestly, you'd almost forgotten about Luke’s comment.

Almost.

"Come on, stop pretending," Lee chimed in. "Admit it. You’d totally fuck Luke if you had to choose."

The entire group burst out laughing. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Before you could throw some sarcastic retort his way, your friend leaned in, her voice heavy with mock annoyance.

"You know what?" she started, her tone dripping with mischief. "Great idea. Alright, darling," she said, turning to you, pulling all eyes on you. Just what you needed.

"Fuck, kiss, or kill," she continued, eyeing the guys. "Between Lee, Chris, and Luke."

A flash of heat ran up your neck. Damn it. You could feel all the eyes on you, some of them eager, some just waiting to see how you'd react.

You took a deep breath, took a long sip of your drink, and braced yourself.

"Kiss Lee. Kill Chris. And, I'd fuck Castellan."

The words spilled out like they were nothing. No hesitation. No second-guessing. And with that, you leaned back, a confident smirk tugging at your lips.

Silence.

Then, chaos.

The group exploded into laughter, hollers, and a few half-choked gasps. Someone actually dropped their drink. Chris clutched his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.

"Cold-blooded," he wheezed between laughs. "I’m actually offended."

"Yeah, yeah," you waved him off, taking another sip of your drink. "You’ll live."

Lee, meanwhile, was grinning like an idiot, throwing an exaggerated wink your way.

It wasn’t obvious—not to anyone else, at least. But you caught it. That tiny shift in his expression. That quick flash of something in his eyes, there and gone before anyone could clock it.

And gods, it sent a spark down your spine.

But you did.

"Well, well," Chris recovered quickly, his shit-eating grin returning at full force. "Looks like our golden boy is getting some love tonight."

Luke finally leaned back against the tree, arms still crossed, expression unreadable. But his smirk? Oh, that damn smirk.

"Guess I should be honored," he mused, voice casual—too casual.

You shrugged, mirroring his expression. "Guess so."

A beat.

For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, the noise of the group fading into the background. The fire crackled between you, but neither of you looked away.

Then, someone—probably Chris again—broke the tension with another wild round of "fuck, kiss, or kill," dragging the attention elsewhere.

You exhaled, finally looking away.

But Luke?

Luke kept watching you.

He wasn’t sure if it was the firelight or the alcohol—or maybe it was just you—but he knew one thing for sure:

This night just got a whole lot more interesting.

A while later, when everyone was either drunk enough or just too tired to stick around, they decided to clean up any evidence of the party and head back to their cabins.

Summer had ended a few weeks ago, so there weren’t many campers who stayed year-round.

You and one of your sisters were among the few who did, which meant you basically had the whole cabin to yourselves.

The thing was, when she got drunk enough—giggling and stumbling into her boyfriend’s arms—he decided he’d be the one taking care of her for the night.

The last thing you saw of her were her clumsy steps leading toward his cabin.

You huffed. You hated sleeping alone.

As you made your way to your cabin, you waved goodbye to the others, watching as they disappeared behind their doors one by one.

Rubbing your arms in a weak attempt to keep warm, you muttered a curse in Ancient Greek, annoyed at the unbearable winter chill.

You were walking alone when, out of nowhere, something warm draped over your shoulders—along with a familiar presence right beside you.

"I’m not cold," Luke said, walking in step with you.

You blinked, glancing up at him with a hint of confusion. "Your cabin’s all the way on the other side, Luke."

"I know." He shrugged. "Saw your sister leave with her boyfriend."

Before you could say anything, he spoke again.

"Let me walk you back," he said, flashing a small smile. "I know you don’t need me to, but a little company never hurts."

You hesitated for a second before sighing. "Yeah, I guess a little company wouldn’t kill me. Even if it’s literally five steps to my cabin."

Luke let out a quiet huff, eyes flicking forward—where, yeah, your cabin was already right in front of you.

"Too late?" he asked.

"Nah, I’d say you’re just in time," you answered.

Five steps later, you were at your door. You pushed it open, then tipped your head toward the inside.

Luke’s heart kicked up, totally unprompted. Inside your cabin? Alone? At night?

"You coming in?" you asked. "Pretty sure you’ve never been inside."

Hell, yeah.

He tilted his head, smirking. "You’re right about that," he said, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

The inside of your cabin looked exactly how he’d imagined it would.

He approached carefully, masking it behind a curious look.

You made your way to your bunk, sitting down to kick off your shoes before crawling fully onto the bed. The wall beside it was covered with little things that, without a doubt, reminded Luke of you.

"This place is ridiculously you," he teased, though you could tell it was more of a compliment. At least, you hoped it was.

Like he knew something you didn’t.

Settling into the bed, you crossed your legs, sinking into the pillows. Much to Luke’s frustration, your dress rode up slightly as you moved, revealing just enough soft, bare skin to have his brain short-circuiting for a second.

The air in your cabin felt warmer than it should. Maybe it was just the contrast to the cold outside. Maybe it was the aftershocks of alcohol buzzing in your veins. Or maybe—just maybe—it had everything to do with the way Luke was looking at you.

Like he had every intention of figuring out exactly how far he could push you tonight.

"You’re staring," you pointed out, sinking a little deeper into your pillows, like that would somehow make you less aware of him.

Luke, still leaning against the opposite bunk, arms crossed, smirked. "You noticed."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t look away. Couldn’t, really. He looked too damn good standing there, bathed in the soft golden light of your cabin, hair still slightly tousled from the wind outside. He’d ditched his jacket—the one he’d draped over your shoulders like some kind of quiet excuse to touch you—and now, in just his shirt and jeans, he somehow looked even more effortless.

Luke’s gaze flickered down, just barely. But you caught it.

It was quick—just a second. A glance at your legs, where your dress had ridden up just a little as you shifted.

Interesting.

You smirked, slow and knowing, tilting your head just slightly as you let your fingertips skim over the edge of your blanket, pretending to adjust it.

Luke exhaled, like he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Something on your mind, Castellan?"

He let out a short laugh, low and warm. "You keep saying my name like that, sweetheart," he murmured, voice dropping a little, "and you’re gonna find out."

Your stomach flipped.

He was closer than before. You didn’t remember him moving, but suddenly, his fingers brushed against the mattress, right near your knee.

His eyes were darker now—not just from the dim lighting, but something else. Something heavier.

Heat curled in your stomach.

Luke tilted his head slightly, watching you, waiting. Maybe for you to say something. Maybe for you to stop him.

You didn’t.

Instead, you lifted your hand, slow, reaching for the jacket he’d given you earlier. You let it slide off your shoulders, fabric pooling at your sides, before casually tossing it onto the bunk behind you.

Luke’s eyes followed the motion, his lips twitching, like he was biting back a comment.

"You’re taking up a lot of space," you mused, voice light, teasing.

Luke chuckled, low in his throat. "Funny," he murmured, stepping forward until his knees brushed the edge of your bed. "I was just about to say the same thing."

The tension between you tightened, electric.

His fingers curled just slightly around the edge of the mattress.

He leaned in—just enough. Not quite touching, but right there, enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the faint scent of pine and campfire still clinging to his shirt.

His breath ghosted against your cheek as he murmured, voice softer, slower—like a quiet dare:

"Move over, sweetheart."

You raised a brow, but you didn’t move. Not yet.

"Why?" you asked, voice smooth, steady—way steadier than you felt.

Luke’s lips quirked, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, searching. Reading. Like he was trying to figure out if you were just teasing or if you were actually going to make him work for it.

Finally, he hummed, low and thoughtful, tilting his head slightly. "Because I want to sit down," he said, voice lazy, like he had all the time in the world.

Luke just shrugged, playing it off like this wasn’t a game he was carefully balancing. "But, hey, if you wanna keep me standing here all night…" His voice dropped, just a little. "Be my guest."

You blinked. That was not the answer you expected.

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. "Fine."

And you moved. But only a little.

Luke huffed out a quiet chuckle, but he didn’t waste any time. He sank down onto the mattress, one arm bracing behind him, the other resting lazily against his knee.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The warmth of him was everywhere now—closer than before, the bed dipping just slightly under his weight. Your bare knee barely brushed against his thigh, and you swore you felt the way his fingers twitched in response.

The firelight flickered against the walls, casting soft shadows across his face, the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his lips parted just slightly when he exhaled.

And then his eyes—Gods, his eyes.

They flickered down, just for a second. Just enough.

And then back up.

When he finally met your gaze again, something shifted. Neither of you were smiling anymore.

Luke’s fingers lifted, slow, careful. Not touching yet—just hovering near the fabric of your dress, near your thigh, like he was waiting for something. For you.

The teasing, the casual back-and-forth—it was still there, under the surface, but now? Now, it was something else entirely.

Swallow.

Then, finally, you moved first.

Just enough to close that last bit of space.

Your fingers brushed against his wrist, featherlight, a barely-there touch that sent a quiet, sharp breath from his lips.

And that was it.

Luke didn’t hesitate this time.

His hand finally, finally found your waist, warm and firm as he pulled you just a fraction closer—just enough for his lips to brush against yours, teasing, barely there.

Your breath hitched.

For half a second, it was hesitation. Anticipation. The space of a heartbeat, hanging in the air between you.

And then?

Then, you kissed him.

Or maybe he kissed you.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, none of that mattered.

Because the second his lips fully met yours, everything else faded—your teasing, your nerves, the fact that you probably weren’t thinking this through.

None of it mattered.

Because Luke Castellan was kissing you.

And gods, he was good at it.

ꪆৎ. Part ii. Taglist closed !

TAGS: @spider-ghoul @imafuckinstar @girl-detective16

[downbad4sylus]

Consider if you will for a moment: Like and/or Keiran accidentally calling MC ‘mom’

please, anon this is literally so cute :’)

whipped a lil something, i hope i did you justice

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It was just a normal day made special simply by spending time with Sylus. The two of you had been rather busy the past few weeks, only seeing each other here and there, but never for as long as you really wanted.

You were the one who suggested taking time off, to which Sylus—albeit surprised—eagerly agreed, which was how you found yourself in the kitchen of Onychinus’s base, apron wrapped around your waist as you and your boyfriend made cupcakes.

The twins sat at the island behind you, impatiently waiting to eat the sweet treats.

“How much longer?” Luke whined.

It was the third time he’d asked in the span of ten minutes. The first batch of cupcakes were currently cooling off to the side so Sylus could frost them, he was surprisingly deft with a piping bag. You were mixing the batter for the second batch.

You glanced at Luke over your shoulder. “If you keep whining, you won’t get any.”

Kieran’s shoulder shook with quiet laughter.

Luke’s head lowered. “Sorry, Mom.”

Everyone went still.

You looked up at Sylus in shock, but he only offered a slight raise of a brow and a tilt of his lips. Was he enjoying this? Of course he was, what a silly question.

If you were being honest with yourself, hearing Luke call you Mom fill your heart with warmth. Since dating Sylus, you’d become quite close to the twins, creating what you felt was a little family of five (including Mephisto, obviously). You’d often joke with Sylus that you and he were like their parents. Sylus would go along with the joke, saying you were a great mother and asking if you thought he made a good father. You’d always answer him with the upmost sincerity, telling him Yes Sylus, you’re a fantastic dad. They’re lucky to have you.

But Luke hadn’t called Sylus Dad, he’d called you Mom.

Sylus watched you, curious to how you’d respond. It had warmed his own heart, hearing Luke call you his mother, not that he’d ever admit it. Sylus held a deep-rooted fear that you’d one day leave him because you didn’t feel at home in the N109 Zone. This slip of the tongue served to ease that fear, but your reaction was what was most important.

Saying nothing, you gently took the piping bag from Sylus’s hands and grabbed one of the cooling cupcakes. It was still a little warm, but it didn’t stop you from piping the frosting onto the top. Passing the bag off to Sylus, you took the cupcake to the island, to Luke.

You offered it to him with an affectionate smile.

Luke hesitated for a moment before taking it.

“Happy now?” you teased.

Luke lifted the mask enough to reveal a wide grin before shoving the cupcake in his mouth.

“Can I have one too, Mom? Please?” Kieran asked from beside his twin.

Your smile widened. “Of course, how can I say no to my boys?”

—

After eating nearly half of the two dozen cupcakes made, the twins had retired to their rooms for a post-cupcake nap, leaving you and Sylus alone to clean up.

Sylus nudged you with his elbow. “I guess we really are parents now.”

You chuckled. “That was the last thing I expected to hear today.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

You smiled fondly up at him. “No, why would I? The twins mean a lot to me.”

Sylus mirrored your expression. “It makes me happy to hear you say that, sweetie.”

You turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck. “I love nothing more than spending time at the base with you and our boys, and Mephisto, of course. I feel at home here, Sy.”

Sylus’s arms encircled your waist, his heart filled with so much love he thought it might burst. “They’re never going to stop calling you that.”

Your smile grew. “That’s okay, if it makes them happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

Sylus dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “How would you feel about adding a few more crows to our flock?”

“I thought a group of crows was a murder, not a flock.”

Sylus scoffed and nibbled at your ear.

You laughed, unabashed, slapping his back lightly. “You owe me a ring first before we even think about that.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, his arms tightening. He placed soft kisses on your neck. “I think that can be arranged.”

[leaderwonim]

THE WORLD NEVER ENDED | JACK HUGHES

pairing. jack hughes x fem!reader (ft. platonic quinn & luke hughes x fem!reader + male!oc x fem!reader)

genre. childhood best friends to lovers, ANGST, fluff, hurt to comfort, reader & jack are both 18-19 in this!

synopsis: Y/N and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away.

The lake house never changes. It still smells like pine and sunscreen, the same old dock creaking under your feet, the same late summer breeze curling through the trees. But this time, you’re the only one here.

You let the beer bottle dangle from your fingers, the glass sweating against your palm as you stare at the still water. It’s late. Too late to be out here alone, and your mom would probably kill you if she found out you were underage drinking, but you’ve been doing this since you were kids—sneaking down to the dock past midnight, toes dipping into the water, whispering about everything and nothing at all.

Except this time, Jack isn’t here. Not really. Not anymore.

The last time you saw him was months ago, after another whirlwind season, after Team USA, after everything. He’d come back, same easy smile, same stupidly messy hair, same Jack. And yet, he wasn’t.

He moved too fast, talked too much about things you weren’t a part of, laughed at jokes from teammates you didn’t know. He had an entire life outside of this town, this lake, this dock. A life that didn’t include you.

It wasn’t his fault though, you couldn’t blame Jack for being excited about this whole new chapter in his life, not when he’s worked his ass off so he could secure a spot in the NHL in the future.

You took a shaky breath, watching as the wind blew the waters back and forth, your thought raced with Jack, Jack, Jack. It wasn’t anything new; you had been in love with him since you had learned what the word love even was, when Ellen and your mom teased you two endlessly after your eighth birthday, declaring that you’d two get married when you were older.

And then he left, at age fourteen to go train at some hockey camp over the summer and you started seeing him less and less. Then he left again for USA Hockey, and all that was left of him was the little times he’d pop up on your screen for a FaceTime, or a quick selfie.

You never told him that it felt like the world had ended whenever he left.

❥

The first time you met Jack Hughes, he was seven years old, standing knee-deep in the lake, grinning like he had owned the world.

“You scared to jump in?” he teases, squinting up at you from where he’s splashing around.

You cross your arms, standing barefoot on the dock, the sun burning hot against your skin. “I just don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

Jack laughs like you just said the funniest thing in the world, and before you can react, he launches a handful of water in your direction. It splashes against your legs, cool and shocking, and you gasp.

“You jerk!” you shriek, but Jack’s already laughing, already diving into the water, swimming just far enough out of reach that you can’t get him back.

You don’t know it then, but that’s how it starts.

The Hughes family’s lake house becomes your second home. Your parents are close friends with Ellen and Jim, and summers are spent tangled in sunburns, mosquito bites, and the smell of bonfires. Jack, being just a few months older, quickly becomes your shadow—or maybe you become his.

You race bikes down dirt paths, climb trees until your hands are covered in splinters, and stay up late whispering under blanket forts in the Hughes’ living room, trying not to wake Luke and Quinn.

“You think we’ll still be best friends when we’re older?” you ask one night, voice sleepy, cheek smushed against your arm.

Jack frowns at you, like you just said something ridiculous. “Duh. Who else am I supposed to hang out with? My brothers?”

You grin brightly, shoving him. “You promise?”

He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

And that’s that.

As you both get older, things don’t really change. Not at first.

Winters are spent at the Hughes’ house in Michigan, watching Jack skate for hours at the rink, your fingers numb from gripping a hot chocolate too tight. Summers are still for the lake house, where the days blur together in a haze of sun, water, and laughter.

Jack is your best friend. The one who sneaks you extra s’mores when the adults say no. The one who ties your skates when your fingers are too cold. The one who always picks you first for street hockey, even when Luke complains about it. The one who knows everything about you.

And you know everything about him, too.

That he gets grumpy when he’s hungry. That he has to listen to music before every game, or else he feels off. That he’s already dreaming about the NHL, about Team USA, about everything that seems so far away but somehow already feels like it’s coming too fast.

You don’t realize when things do start changing.

Maybe it’s when Jack turns fourteen and starts spending more time away at tournaments. Maybe it’s when you turn fourteen and realize your heart speeds up whenever he looks at you a certain way.

Maybe it’s the summer you turn fifteen and see him talking to a girl from town, and something ugly coils in your stomach. You don’t say anything, though. You can’t.

Jack is your best friend. That’s all. Even if you wish it wasn’t.

When Jack is sixteen, everything does change.

It’s the Fourth of July. The lake house is packed, fireworks already popping in the distance. You and Jack sneak away from the party like you always do, climbing onto the dock and lying side by side, watching the sky.

“You excited for the USA team?” you ask, your voice light, like the thought of him leaving doesn’t make your chest ache.

Jack turns his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda nervous, though.”

You smile a little, the same smile that had reassured Jack every time he saw it. “You’ll be fine.”

He shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. “You think so?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “You’re Jack Hughes.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, almost hesitant. The air between you feels different, thicker, heavier. His fingers twitch on the dock beside yours, and for a second, you swear he’s about to reach for your hand.

But then he exhales sharply, sits up. “We should get back.”

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You stare at the fireworks exploding in the sky, feeling like something inside you is breaking.

Jack leaves for Team USA at the end of the summer.

And you don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same again.

❥

At first, you still talk all the time. He calls after practices, FaceTimes you from hotel rooms, sends you stupid selfies from road trips. And for a while, it almost feels normal. Almost.

But then the calls get shorter. The messages come slower.

You see his name on headlines, hear people at school talking about him like he’s some distant star instead of the boy you grew up with. And suddenly, he feels… far away.

Not just in distance. In everything.

And then one day, you realize you don’t remember the last time he called.

You don’t text him, either. You figured he was too busy anyways—too busy with hockey, with interviews, too busy for you.

His absence leaves a hollow space inside you, one you don’t know how to fill. So you try.

That’s how you end up with him.

Aiden West. Star quarterback. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile and dimples that should make your heart flutter.

You meet at a party—one you only went to because your friends dragged you out of your house, tired of you spending your nights holed up in your room, pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that never came.

Aidan’s nice. He’s funny. He buys you drinks and calls you baby and kisses you like he means it.

You tell yourself this is good. That this is what you need.

But when he holds your hand, it doesn’t feel the same. When he kisses you, you don’t melt the way you think you should. And when you close your eyes, it’s not Aidan you see.

It’s Jack. Always Jack.

Quinn comes home in December.

You’re not expecting to see him, not really. Ever since he was drafted, he spent all his time in Vancouver, busy with his own life, his own team. But one night, you walk into the Hughes’ house, and there he is, sprawled on the couch like he never left.

“Quinn?” you blink.

He smirks, sitting up. “Hey, kid.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “You’re, like, a few years older than me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me,” he teases, but then his expression softens. “How’ve you been?”

You shrug. “Good.”

He gives you a look, like he can see right through you. Because of course he can.

Quinn has always been quieter than Jack, more observant. He was the one who bandaged your scraped knees when you and Jack were too reckless, the one who ruffled your hair when you had a bad day, the one who watched you grow up and somehow always knew what you were feeling before you even said it.

And right now, you can tell he knows you’re lying.

“You still talk to Jack?” he asks casually.

You stiffen. “Not really.”

Quinn nods, like that’s what he expected. “He’s been busy.”

“I know,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’s fine.”

He studies you for a moment. Then, his eyebrows furrow. “You dating that football guy?”

You hesitate. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Quinn tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “You like him?”

You swallow. “He’s… nice.”

Quinn leans back, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve seen you happy before.”

You furrow your brows. “And?”

“And that’s not what you look like right now.”

The words hit deeper than you want them to. You look away, staring at your hands.

Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you like the guy, great. But don’t force something that isn’t real just because—” He pauses.

You glance up. “Just because what?”

Quinn meets your eyes, and for the first time, his voice is gentle. “Just because Jack hurt you.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

Because he’s right. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.

❥

Aidan is kind when he breaks up with you.

That almost makes it worse.

You can tell he’s been thinking about it for a while. The way he exhales before he starts speaking, the way his hands stay tucked into the pocket of his hoodie like he’s afraid if he moves too much, you’ll see how much this is bothering him.

“You’re not really here, Y/N,” he says, voice steady but laced with something bitter, something tired.

You don’t argue, because you know he’s right.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I like you. I really do. But I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m the only one they’re thinking about.”

Your stomach twists.

“Aidan—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, forcing a small smile. “I knew. I think I always did.” He swallows, glancing away before meeting your eyes again. “It was never gonna be me, was it?”

You want to tell him you tried. That you wanted to feel something more, something real. But the truth is, no matter how hard you tried, he was never Jack.

And that was never fair to him.

So instead, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yeah. Me too.”

A few days pass, and you still feel hollow, like you’re floating through life without really being in it.

You don’t know why you still go to the Hughes’ house. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s because it still feels like home, even when things don’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, you just need someone who knows you.

Luke opens the door, and before you can even say anything, his face twists in concern.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

You pause. “What?”

Luke steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “You have your sad face on.”

You frown. “Luke Hughes, I do not have a—”

“You totally do,” he interrupts, flopping onto the couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, and after a moment, you do.

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Quinn told me everything.”

You freeze. “Everything?”

Luke gives you a knowing look. “Yeah. And I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Jack since we were kids.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Luke sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Look, I know he messed up. Jack is kind of known for that. And I know you’re hurt. But…” He hesitates. “You still love him, don’t you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Luke—”

“Just be honest,” he says gently.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Luke nods like he already knew that was coming. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

You frown. “What’s this?”

“Tickets,” he says simply.

You blink. “Tickets?”

“To Jack’s game against Finland.” His voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something careful, like he knows he’s walking a fine line. “I was gonna go, but I think you should instead.”

Your heart stops.

“Luke…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he says quickly. “Just go. See him. Talk to him.”

You stare at the tickets in his hand, your pulse pounding in your ears.

This is a choice. A chance.

And to be completely honest, you aren’t sure if you’re ready.

❥

You end up deciding not to go until the last minute.

The plane ticket burns in your hands, Luke’s voice echoing in your head: Just go. See him. Talk to him.

So you do. You land in Finland, stomach in knots, trying not to think about what you’ll even say to him. If he’ll even want to see you.

But then the game happens. And Jack loses.

The scoreboard tells you everything—3-2, Finland. A brutal, heartbreaking end.

Jack stays on the ice, shoulders hunched, wiping his face as the Finnish players celebrate around him. You can see the way he’s blinking rapidly, how hard he’s trying to hold it together.

It doesn’t work.

By the time he’s in the tunnel for postgame interviews, it’s like the weight of everything finally crashes over him. The cameras capture everything; his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips tremble when he speaks, the way his voice wavers when he says, “I feel like I let everyone down.”

Your heart cracks wide open. You don’t think. You just go.

You push through the lingering crowd, through the halls of the arena, heart racing. And then—there he is.

Jack is leaning against the wall, head bowed, gripping a water bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders shake slightly, like he’s trying to get a grip, but he’s losing the battle.

You inhale sharply, willing yourself forward.

“Jack.”

His head snaps up, eyes widening. And for a second, he just stares.

Like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You nod, stepping closer. But before you can say anything else, Jack clears his throat and quickly swipes at his face, straightening up like he’s trying to compose himself.

Then he blurts out, “How’s Aidan?”

You freeze.

Jack lets out a broken laugh, looking down. “Quinn told me you had a boyfriend,” he mutters, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I—uh, I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. “Jack—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, still not looking at you. “I always wanted you to be happy.”

He sniffles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen before.

And suddenly, it’s too much.

The space between you. The months of silence. The fact that he still doesn’t know the truth.

You move before you can stop yourself, closing the gap and wrapping your arms around him.

Jack stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath.

But then—slowly, so slowly—it’s like something inside him gives in.

His hands grip your back, his face pressing into your shoulder, and he melts.

You feel his shaky exhale against your neck. The way his fingers curl into the jersey you’re wearing with his name on the back, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel whole again.

“I don’t—” Jack’s voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Your throat tightens. “Then don’t. Just just let me be here.”

Jack exhales shakily, nodding against you. “Okay.”

Despite your reassurance, he still feels like he’s falling.

The weight of the loss, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all crashing over him, relentless and suffocating. But in the middle of it all, there’s you.

And when you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, he realizes you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your hands stay on his face, thumbs brushing against his damp skin, and there’s something in your expression, something soft and certain that makes his chest ache.

Then you move closer, tilting your head, and suddenly, suddenly—your lips press against his.

Jack stills.

Then, all at once, he melts into you.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing. Your lips are soft, warm, familiar, but new at the same time, like something that was always supposed to happen but never did.

It feels like breathing again. Like finally getting it right.

But then, Jack realizes and he blinks, something clicking in his mind as he pulls back abruptly, still holding onto you but panting slightly.

“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse. “Aidan.”

You shake your head quickly. “We broke up.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

You exhale, your hands sliding from his face to his wrists, squeezing lightly. “Jack, I tried to move on. I tried so hard.” Your voice wavers. “But it was never him. It was always you.”

Jack’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching.

Then, suddenly, he laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound before his face crumples, his eyes shining again.

And just like that, he’s crying.

He presses his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as his grip on your waist tightens.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you to say that,” he whispers, his voice shaking.

You smile softly, brushing his hair back. “I think I do.”

Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the fabric of your jersey, like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go. But you don’t.

Because after everything—after the distance, the silence, the missed chances—you’re still here.

He sniffles, pulling you into another tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

❥

Later, when the chaos dies down and the arena empties, you end up in Jack’s car.

The heater hums softly, filling the silence, the city lights casting faint shadows across the dashboard.

Jack sits in the driver’s seat, head tilted against the headrest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You’re next to him, legs curled up on the seat, leaning against his shoulder.

It’s quiet.

Not awkward. Not heavy. Just comfortable.

Jack sighs, nudging his cheek against your hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You smile faintly, reaching for his hand. “Me neither.”

He squeezes your fingers, his grip warm and sure. “I thought I lost you.”

You shake your head, squeezing back. “You never did.”

Jack exhales, his body relaxing against yours, and for the first time in a long time, hfeels whole again.

❥

The lake house feels the same the next summer.

The scent of pine and sunscreen still lingers in the air, the dock still creaks under your feet, and the water still glistens under the late afternoon sun. But this time, Jack is here. And this time, he’s yours.

He had turned freshly nineteen last month, but still was the same annoying boy you had known since you were seven.

You sit on the old wooden dock, legs stretched out, the warm breeze tangling your hair. Jack is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his other hand resting on your knee, tracing absentminded patterns over your skin.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the occasional laughter from inside the house, where Quinn and Luke are probably chirping each other over something stupid.

Jack sighs, turning his head to look at you. “I missed this.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his. “Me too.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes soft, warm, completely yours. Then, without a word, he tugs you down so you’re lying next to him, your head resting on his chest.

“You know,” he muses, fingers trailing up and down your back, “last summer, I thought I’d never get this back.”

You inhale slowly, letting his heartbeat ground you. “Me too.”

Jack tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But we made it.”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. “We did.”

He grins, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat, then flips you onto your back, hovering over you with that look—the one that reminds you he’s still the same Jack, the same boy who used to splash you in the lake, who used to steal your s’mores when you weren’t looking, who used to be your best friend before he was everything.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Luke’s voice echoes from the house, and you both groan.

Jack turns his head, scowling. “Luke, I swear—”

Quinn’s voice cuts in. “Let them be, Luke. They suffered enough.”

You laugh as Jack rolls his eyes. “I hate that he’s right.”

You shake your head, pulling Jack back down. “Just kiss me already.”

He smirks. “Gladly.”

And as his lips meet yours, the sun dips below the horizon and the lake glistens around you, making you realize everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.

It isn’t until Luke pretends to fake barf that Jack removes himself away from you, opting to chase down his little brother.

“Boys, am I right?” Quinn says, giving you a grin.

You wrap your arms around him, never feeling as whole as you did now.

[onlyquinns]

pt 2 where quinn proposes?

it’s a simple conclusion—the best conclusion—he’s ever come to.

quinn lays next to you in the dark. you’re curled up in his arms and the duvet, snoring softly, and he’s holding the little black box in his palm. he starts planning then, at three in the morning, and leaves to practice in the next few hours as if his mind isn’t already running at the max.

he’s got both of his brothers in on it, the group chat he’s got with the both of them spamming him every second of the day with new ideas. suggestions of proposing at a game, or at a family skate, but quinn knows you—he knows how much you value your privacy, so he shuts down every idea that jack and luke suggest.

eventually, he’s got an idea—one that isn’t from his brothers and doesn’t subject your guys’ love all over social media and to the prying eyes of the public.

the two of you are in jack and luke’s apartment, finally visiting for the weekend to watch one of their games. the kitchen smells like vanilla and chocolate, telltale signs of you baking. you knead cookie dough in a giant glass bowl, luke having requested chocolate chip cookies to celebrate the devils’ win earlier that night.

quinn watches you in awe, admiring how you look with the oven’s overhead light pouring down onto you like rays on a sunny day, a smudge of powder on your cheek. he nearly doesn’t want to ask, too content with just… watching you. but then you turn to him, smile soft and your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he knows he’s never going to find another perfect opportunity.

so, when you close the oven after sliding in the cookies, quinn’s on you like his life depends on it. you squeal when his strong arms wrap around your waist, twirling you around so you face him. his eyes hold something intense as he looks at you, and you nearly shy away.

“what’re you thinking, baby?” you ask him, but quinn doesn’t respond. instead, he slides his hands down and falls to one knee, hands digging into his sweats for the little box.

he knows it’s so obviously ring-box-shaped in his pocket, but you hadn’t even noticed, too busy with your baking—and thank god. quinn pops the little box open and watches your face contort, hands shaking as you bring them up to your mouth.

“oh, my god,” you whisper, voice watery. your shoulders shake as tears stream down your face. “quinn…”

quinn swallows his nerves and raises the box a little higher, looks at you with so much adoration. “i… i had something i wanted to say, but being in front of you right now made me forget everything i planned,” he admits, pulling a watery giggle from you. “but… i know that you make me better and you’re it for me—knew it from the beginning. you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever met, the most caring. never have i met someone who cares about me and my brothers like you. baby, will you marry me?”

he barely gets the words out before you’re nodding and saying, “yes!” over and over. you sink to the floor with quinn and kiss him, his lips tasting like something uniquely quinn hughes and the salt from your tears. you register his hands fumbling against yours and the cool slide of gold onto your finger, the weight of the gem in the middle just right.

you pull away at the sound of a flash, and turn to find jack and luke with a silly dslr camera. quinn doesn’t even look at them, eyes drawn to your face and the way you look with his ring on your finger.

“you’re going to be my mrs. hughes,” he murmurs, drawing your attention back to him.

you’re about to respond with something just as cheesy, but jack whoops and starts jumping up and down. “that’s my sister!” he cheers, pointing at you like he’s at a frat party. “that’s my sisters, everybody!”

luke scoffs, “uh—she’s already been our sister, jack,” he says, and you laugh at how serious he is. “but more importantly, is it time for cookies yet?”

[wqlfstqr]

hello there i was wondering if i could request a luke castellan x girly!reader like her personality spent even have to be girly but her room and bed are all pink and purples and light greens and SO many stuffed animals including one she sleeps with every night cuz he’s just the fav please, i just think it could be cute and silly like this man who is literally the best swordsman in 100 years is just napping or chilling in/on her bed/room please 🙏

◟𖥻 sweet nothing : luke castellan

▰▰ pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke might be camp's strongest swordsman, but at the end of the day he finds himself tucked in pink duvet covers and surrounded with stuffed animals.

warnings: no cabin mentioned for reader but she's girly, canon divergence.

mari talks: this was such a cute request so thanks omg <33 hope u enjoy it

Luke Castellan is a name known by everyone at camp-halfblood.

Of course. He is the Luke Castellan. Son of Hermes. The same one that trains campers with an unwavering patience and a terrifying skill with the sword. The one that can disarm just about anyone in the span of three seconds. He's cool. Sharp. Mysterious.

And he's absolutely, hopelessly in love with a girl who couldn't be more different from him if she tried. All pastel colors in her outfits, glossy lip gloss and bows in her braided hair.

Campers are always surprised by it.

After an intense sparring match, when Luke is usually all business while giving corrections to the campers, she only has to walk in to get his attention. And he melts the moment she has her arms wrapped around him. A soft smile appearing on his face while he buries his face in her shoulder.

"That's the same dude that just beat everyone with his sword?" One of the campers mumbles.

But they haven't seen anything at all.

Because at the end of the day, when the swords are sheathed and the training days empty, Luke is the first one to disappear.

And if someone tries to look for him, they wouldn't find him in the Hermes cabin, or with the other counselors. He'll be in her cabin.

Curled up in her bed, on top of her pink duvet, in the middle of a nest of plushies. His favorite place to be.

Maybe it's because he got to be away from his own cabin's chaos. Or maybe it's the calming scent of her vanilla perfume that clung to her sheets. Maybe the fairy lights that make the room glown in warm golds. Maybe the tons of plushies on her bed. Definitely just about her, cuddled against him or reading a book or sitting cross-legged at her vanity, humming while she does her makeup.

But that place is heaven to Luke.

After the tiring sword lessons, and the endless questions from campers that sometimes threatened to end with his patience, Luke gets to be here. And he doesn’t have to be anything but Luke here. Her boyfriend, who she loves without any hesitation.

Sometimes she isn't even at her cabin, but she or her siblings always let him in. And she doesn't have to be there for him to already feel at peace— her scent lingering in the air, her energy soaked into every part of the room even when she's not there.

"She told me she'd be back in ten minutes." He mumbles, glacing at the purple pegasus plushie in his hands as he lays on her bed. "You think she got distracted again?"

He waits, as if the stuffed animal might reply.

"Anyway, Princess Sparkle, she looked really pretty today, didn’t she?" He lets his head fall onto her pillow, smiling at the ceiling. "She always does."

Right then, the door creaks open and Percy Jackson pokes his head in, only to find Luke talking to a stuffed animal.

Luke immediately sits, placing Princess Sparkle back into the pile of plushies, Peecy blinks at him. "I'm... just going to pretend I didn’t see anything. Chiron needs you at the big house."

And of course, Luke finishes up with Chiron and practically runs back to her cabin. At least she's already there once he gets back.

By now, even her siblings are used to it. So it isn't surprising when, later that night, he finds himself with her younger siblings gathered around bed like a mini council.

He's got a face-mask that she put on him because 'his skin looked dry' and a strawberry-shaped clip holding his hair back. And he's in deep conversation with her siblings.

"I'm telling you." He interrupts, his head resting on her legs. "I totally saw him giving a flower to that new girl."

The kids gasp like it's national news. Some of them giggle. "Oh they're gonna be dating by the end of the week."

She hums from where she's sitting, her fingers brushing through one of his loose curls as she secures it with a glittery heart-shaped clip.

One of her sisters chimes in. "I heard they were seen holding hands after capture the flag."

Luke gasps. "Scandalous."

They all laugh, and she shakes her head, amused. "You're the biggest gossip I know."

"I prefer informative." He shrugs, pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt to kiss her.

Her siblings groan dramatically. "Gross."

And later that night, when everyone else has gone to sleep, he's still there; his face fresh from the face mask, his voice soft as he reads one of her books for her while she rests on his chest.

"I should go." he mumbles, closing the book when he notices she's starting to fall asleep.

She doesn’t move, instead nestles even more against him. "No, stay."

"You know Chiron got mad the last time i stayed." he tells her, but his arms are already wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Stay." She repeats, voice sleepy.

And that's how Luke Castellan, the camp's strongest swordman, ends his night.

Surrounded by plushies, vanilla scent in the air and his fingers brushing through her hair until she's fast asleep. The prettiest smile on her face.

And this is exactly why he loves it here.

Because he's able to just be Luke. No sword. No armor. Just her boyfriend.

[be4chywritez]

aim for the heart (not the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

(I had like three request for a part two)

Luke musters up the courage and shoot his shot and he semi-misses?

part one!

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

The sun was high, warm and golden, stretching lazily across the neighborhood. A slight breeze carried the scent of fresh-cut grass and sunscreen, rustling the pages of the book in your hands as you sat curled up on the porch swing.

You hadn’t meant to stay outside this long, but there was something about the way the afternoon felt—slow, soft—that made it impossible to leave. The heat wrapped around you, seeping into your skin, and the distant sounds of summer—birds chirping, the occasional lawn mower, kids laughing down the street—blurred into the background as you lost yourself in the words on the page.

Your legs were stretched out in front of you, bare and golden from the sun, shifting slightly with the gentle motion of the swing. You were wearing something light—an old tank top that hung loose on one shoulder, soft cotton shorts that rode up just enough to tease the smooth line of your thigh. The kind of outfit that was effortless, comfortable. The kind that made you feel at home in your own skin.

And across the driveway, Luke was absolutely done for.

He’d come outside to shoot pucks, but the second his eyes landed on you, his focus shattered.

You weren’t even doing anything. Just sitting there, your lips slightly parted as you turned the page, completely absorbed in whatever world you’d fallen into. But there was something about the way you looked right then—sun-drenched, relaxed, utterly unaware of the way his stomach had just flipped—that knocked the wind out of him.

He dragged a hand through his damp hair, willing himself to look away, but his eyes betrayed him. They traced the curve of your bare shoulder, the way your fingers absentmindedly twirled a loose strand of hair, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sighed at whatever your book had just put you through.

And then—as if the universe were actually out to get him—you shifted, stretching slightly, your top slipping just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the delicate strap of your bra.

Luke swallowed hard.

Oh, fuck.

You must have felt his stare, because you looked up, eyes meeting his from across the driveway.

He barely had time to school his expression before you smirked. “Can I help you?”

Luke blinked. Say something normal.

“Uh—no.” Jesus Christ.

Your smirk widened, teasing. “Didn’t know you were into staring.”

He scoffed, trying to regain some dignity. “I wasn’t staring.”

You hummed, clearly unconvinced, before tilting your book slightly. “Then you wouldn’t be interested in what I’m reading.”

Luke squinted. “You don’t know that.”

“It’s a romance novel.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Okay, maybe you do know that.”

You laughed, the sound warm and light, curling around him in a way that made his chest feel too tight.

Luke was still looking at you.

Or, more accurately, he was trying not to look at you, which only made it more obvious. He shifted awkwardly, adjusting his grip on his hockey stick, eyes flickering between you and some imaginary point in the distance.

You raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Hughes?”

Luke cleared his throat. “Uh… you going to the barbecue later?”

You grinned. “I don’t know… I’ll have to check my schedule.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Yeah, cool.”

You smirked, standing up from the swing and stretching just enough to make his gaze flicker—quick, fleeting, but not unnoticed.

“See you later, Luke.”

And with that, you disappeared inside, leaving him standing there, heart pounding for absolutely no good reason.

The barbecue was already in full swing by the time you stepped into the Hughes’ backyard.

The smell of grilled burgers and summer air hung in the backyard, mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking bottles. The Hughes had invited a handful of neighbors, which meant more people than usual—but you didn’t mind. The night was warm, the string lights draped across the patio glowed soft and golden, and for the first time in a while, it really felt like summer.

And, judging by the way Luke Hughes nearly dropped his drink when he saw you, you’d made quite the entrance. Well in his mind.

Your dress was light and effortless, the soft fabric catching the breeze as you stepped onto the patio. It wasn’t anything flashy—just a simple summer dress that hugged your frame in all the right places, skimming the tops of your thighs and dipping just low enough at the neckline to turn heads. The golden hour glow kissed your skin, and as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you barely registered the way Luke’s jaw clenched from across the yard.

Unfortunately for him, you didn’t make it two steps before the elder neighbors descended.

“Oh my goodness, is that you?”

You barely had time to turn before Mrs. Callahan, who had lived two doors down for as long as you could remember, grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. Her eyes, warm and knowing, raked over you with a grandmotherly mix of approval and nostalgia.

“Look at you, sweetheart! College has been good to you,” she gushed, giving your hands a firm pat.

Mr. Donahue chuckled, shaking his head. “You left as a kid and came back all grown up. How’s school treating you?”

That was all it took. Within moments, you were caught—pulled into conversation after conversation with the neighborhood’s elders, answering questions about your classes, your plans, whether you had a nice young man in your life (to which Mrs. Callahan wiggled her brows), and how your parents were handling the empty nest.

You smiled, laughed, answered as best you could, but you could feel yourself slowly getting swallowed whole. You glanced around for an escape route, and just as Mrs. Callahan launched into a story about knowing you as a toddler, a new voice cut in.

“There you are. I was starting to think I’d have to come rescue you.”

Nathaniel.

He slid into the space beside you with practiced ease, his grin boyish and just a little too confident. He was older, more sure of himself in a way that was both charming and just slightly overbearing. And if his hand brushed against your lower back as he leaned in to say hello—well. You weren’t sure if it was on purpose, but the way his fingers lingered made you think it was.

You barely had a second to react before he smoothly turned to Mrs. Callahan and Mr. Donahue, flashing them a dazzling smile. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal her away,” he said, his tone easy, like he already knew the answer.

Mrs. Callahan, of course, beamed. “Oh, of course not! It’s good to see young people reconnecting.”

Mr. Donahue nodded, eyes twinkling. “Go on, kid. We’ll catch up later.”

And just like that, you were being guided away, Nathaniel’s hand hovering just barely against your waist, his presence pressing in close as he led you toward the drink table.

Nathaniel guided you toward the drink table with the kind of easy confidence that told you he was used to getting what he wanted. His hand brushed against your waist—light, deliberate, just enough to make it clear he wanted you to notice.

“You look good,” he said, reaching for a beer and twisting off the cap with one smooth motion. His eyes flicked over you, slow and appraising, before he handed you a soda. “Better than good, actually. I didn’t think you could outdo the whole porch swing look, but damn.”

You rolled your eyes, accepting the drink but not his flirtation. “Glad to know I have your approval.”

Nathaniel smirked, undeterred. “Just calling it like I see it.” He took a sip of his drink, leaning in slightly. “You know, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to go for a walk or something. Catch up, just us.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Just us?”

He grinned. “Well, I’d say just you and me, but that would be redundant.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You shot him a look, but before you could respond, he tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering over your shoulder toward the other side of the yard.

“Not that I mind, but I gotta say…” His voice dropped, teasing. “Luke Hughes has not stopped staring at you all night.”

You tensed, but forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, cracking open your drink like you hadn’t heard him. “Oh yeah?”

Nathaniel hummed. “Yeah. I mean, he was staring earlier, too, when you were all curled up on the porch. Thought maybe you’d noticed.”

You had.

But you just shrugged. “He’s probably just zoning out or something.”

Nathaniel scoffed, amused. “Yeah, sure. Or he’s been making heart eyes at you all night and is about two seconds away from losing his mind.”

Before you could respond, a new voice cut in—louder, slightly panicked.

“Mom needs you in the kitchen.”

You turned just in time to see Luke striding over, his expression set with forced nonchalance, though the way his hand curled around your wrist was anything but casual.

Nathaniel frowned. “Wait, what—”

“No time,” Luke blurted, already tugging you away. “Super important. Immediate.”

Nathaniel’s confusion deepened. “But I thought your mom—”

“Big family emergency,” Jack chimed in, grinning.

“Yeah, huge,” Quinn added, smirking as he casually took a sip of his drink.

Nathaniel glanced between them, clearly skeptical. “Didn’t realize making burgers was a two-person job.”

Jim, who had been standing nearby with a beer in hand, looked up at the mention of food. “What? No, I’ve got the grill covered—”

Ellen appeared from the patio, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Everything okay?”

Luke shot her a desperate look. “Mom—uh, didn’t you say you needed help in the kitchen?”

Ellen’s eyes darted between you, Luke, and the way he was all but dragging you away. Her mouth twitched like she was holding back a smile.

“Oh, yes,” she said smoothly, catching on immediately. “Very urgent.”

Jim blinked. “Since when—”

Ellen shot him a pointed look.

Jim wisely took a sip of his beer. “Right. Very urgent.”

Nathaniel sighed, clearly realizing he’d lost whatever this was. He sent you a knowing smirk. “Guess I’ll see you later?”

Luke barely gave you a chance to process before he dragged you inside, past the actual kitchen, straight to the pantry. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you both in the tight space.

The air was instantly heavier.

Shelves lined the small room, stocked with snacks and spices, but all you could focus on was Luke—standing way too close, his breath uneven, eyes flickering over your face like he was still trying to work up the courage to speak.

You swallowed. “Luke, what the hell was that?”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

And then, all at once, he exhaled. “I like you.”

The words tumbled out, raw, unfiltered.

Your breath hitched. “You—”

“I like you,” he repeated, softer now, but just as desperate. “And I know it’s probably really obvious, and I definitely just made a complete idiot out of myself, but I had to—I couldn’t just—”

He was flustered, rambling, but it didn’t matter. Not when he was looking at you like that—like he’d been holding this in for way too long and didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

You opened your mouth, maybe to say something, maybe to call him an idiot for waiting this long—

But then Luke moved.

One second, he was standing there, nervous and restless. The next, his hands were on your waist, fingertips pressing into the thin fabric of your dress like he was trying to ground himself. Your back bumped against the shelf behind you, and suddenly, there was nowhere to go.

Not with him this close. Not with the heat radiating off him, his chest rising and falling just a little too fast.

His gaze dipped to your lips.

Your pulse stuttered.

“Luke—”

Then he kissed you.

Or—tried to.

Because instead of a smooth, movie-worthy moment, his forehead smacked against your nose with an embarrassingly loud thunk.

“Shit,” you hissed, recoiling.

Luke instantly jerked back, horror flashing across his face. “Oh my god—are you okay? Holy shit, I didn’t—”

You pressed your fingers to your nose, wincing. “Jesus, Hughes.”

“I swear to god, I didn’t mean—” He ran both hands through his hair, panicked. “Oh my god, I just confessed and then immediately injured you, I—”

You let out a breathless laugh, half in disbelief, half because—god, only Luke would turn a moment like this into absolute chaos.

“Luke,” you murmured, looking up at him.

He was still frozen, wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted like he was bracing for you to push him away.

Instead, you grabbed the front of his t-shirt and yanked him back in.

He barely had time to gasp before your lips found his—firm, insistent, right.

Luke made a quiet, startled noise against your mouth before he melted into it, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, fingertips pressing just a little harder, a little more sure. You could feel his heart racing—maybe as fast as yours—and when he tilted his head just enough to deepen the kiss, you sighed into him, feeling the tension between you snap and unravel all at once.

This time, there were no misfires. No awkward collisions. Just the warmth of his mouth on yours, the way he tasted like whatever beer he’d abandoned outside, the way his fingers curled into the fabric of your dress like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Luke’s hands were sliding down your waist, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, when—

The pantry door swung open.

“Well, well, well.”

Luke froze.

You froze.

Quinn stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, a very unimpressed expression on his face. He reached past Luke, completely unfazed, grabbed a bag of chips from the shelf, and then turned back to you both.

Luke still hadn’t moved. You could feel the heat radiating off him, like if he just stayed perfectly still, maybe Quinn would forget what he just saw.

Spoiler: He wouldn’t.

Quinn popped open the bag with zero urgency. “I mean, I knew something was going on,” he mused, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. “But wow. The pantry? Really?”

From somewhere behind him, Jack’s voice rang out. “Wait—what’s happening in the pantry?”

Luke groaned, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder.

You, on the other hand, just sighed. “Do you guys ever mind your own business?”

Quinn smirked. “Not when it’s this funny.”

Luke finally lifted his head, shooting his brother a murderous look. “Get out.”

“Gladly.” Quinn gave you both a knowing look before stepping back, calling over his shoulder, “Hey, Jack! You owe me twenty bucks!”

Luke whipped around. “WHAT?”

But Quinn was already disappearing, laughing to himself, and before Luke could fully combust, you grabbed his wrist, yanking him back toward you.

“Hey,” you murmured, grinning. “At least now we don’t have to keep it a secret.”

Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. Sure. Great.”

Then, grumbling, he kissed you again—just to make a point.

Luke’s hands were sliding down your waist, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, when—

The pantry door swung open.

“Well, well, well.”

Luke froze.

You froze.

Quinn stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, a very unimpressed expression on his face. He reached past Luke, completely unfazed, grabbed a bag of chips from the shelf, and then turned back to you both.

Luke still hadn’t moved. You could feel the heat radiating off him, like if he just stayed perfectly still, maybe Quinn would forget what he just saw.

Spoiler: He wouldn’t.

Quinn popped open the bag with zero urgency. “I mean, I knew something was going on,” he mused, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. “But wow. The pantry? Really?”

From somewhere behind him, Jack’s voice rang out. “Wait—what’s happening in the pantry?”

Luke groaned, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder.

You, on the other hand, just sighed. “Do you guys ever mind your own business?”

Quinn smirked. “Not when it’s this funny.”

Luke finally lifted his head, shooting his brother a murderous look. “Get out.”

“Gladly.” Quinn gave you both a knowing look before stepping back, calling over his shoulder, “Hey, Jack! You owe me twenty bucks!”

Luke whipped around. “WHAT?”

But Quinn was already disappearing, laughing to himself, and before Luke could fully combust, you grabbed his wrist, yanking him back toward you.

“Hey,” you murmured, grinning. “At least now we don’t have to keep it a secret.”

Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. Sure. Great.”

Then, grumbling, he kissed you again—just to make a point.

-

Luke was nervous.

You could tell—the way he kept glancing at you across the table, tapping his fingers against his glass like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

You found it endearing.

“Relax, Hughes,” you teased, sipping your drink. “You’re acting like this is our first time hanging out.”

Luke scoffed. “I know it’s not. But it’s the first time like this.”

Like this.

Like an actual date.

It had taken him a week to build up the courage to ask you out—an entire week of stolen glances, late-night texts, and Jack’s relentless teasing—but when he finally did, stammering through the words while you tried (and failed) not to laugh at his awkwardness, you’d just smiled and said, “Took you long enough.”

Now, sitting across from him, watching him try so hard to play it cool, you couldn’t help but fall just a little harder.

“Luke.” You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand. “I like you, remember?”

His shoulders relaxed. His lips twitched into that stupid, sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah.”

You smirked. “So stop overthinking it and kiss me.”

Luke blinked. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

He glanced around—because of course he did—but before he could argue, you grabbed his collar and pulled him in.

And just like that, all of Luke’s nervous energy melted away.

Because kissing you? That, he knew how to do.

And this time, he didn’t even hit your nose.

[bluewxrld07]

Miss Possessive (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): jealousy, light smut, swearing, little angst, spitting

Summary: Y/N isn't usually one to get protective over her boyfriend... but when one girl who acts like her friend pushes things a liiiittle over the edge, she shows why she shouldn't be one to mess with

BABY BLUES, UNDRESSING HIM. FUNNY HOW YOU THINK THAT I DON'T NOTICE IT

ACTING LIKE WE'RE FRIENDS, WE'RE THE OPPOSITE

"I'm back and I brought the good stuff!" Jack shouts over the loud music, holding a tray filled with everyone's drinks.

Luke lets go of Y/N's waist for a second, reaching over to grab both his and her drinks. She smiles warmly up at her boyfriend as he hands her the cool glass, the pair immediately turning their attention back to Nico's story he was telling about Monday's practice mayhem.

The girl tried to keep her attention on the story, peeking around every so often to check to see if her friends had arrived yet.

Her eyes lit up as she let out an excited and buzzed squeal, seeing the three girls rushing their way over to their group in the busy club crowd. "My girls!" she shouts out, leaving Luke's hold to go embrace them all.

"Finally, the party can start! I've only been looking forward to this all weekend," her friend, Maya, says as she snags the drink from Jack's hands as he is about to sip it. He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in defeat.

"Maya's here everyone!" he sarcastically announces, earning a smack to his chest. Y/N laughs while pulling away from hugging her other friend, Peyton. They all watch the pair bicker per usual, knowing they'd end up in his bed by the end of the night.

As she goes to embrace and greet Mary, she notices her staring over her shoulder with a certain look in her eyes.

Y/N's eyes follow her stare, turning behind her to see exactly where her eyes were met. Which were staring right at Luke, who at the time was sitting on the couch with his legs spread, drink in hand while the other arm lay across the top of the couch as he conversed with one of the boys.

Y/N squints her eyes in a knowing manner, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She looks back at Mary with a smirk, clearing her throat to catch the girl's attention.

Mary's eye snap out of their daze, putting a fake smile on and squealing while pulling Y/N in for a hug. "I've missed you oh my gosh!" she says, Y/N just humming in response.

They pull apart quickly after, Mary squeezing past her to slyly take a seat next to Luke. Luke looks over at Mary, his face dropping when he notices it isn't his girl. He puts on a fake smile and greets Mary, immediately pulling his arm away that sat on the top of the couch and puts it in his lap.

Y/N rolls her eyes, downing the rest of her drink before looking over at Peyton who is talking with Ethan.

She goes up and wraps her arm around Peyton, smiling graciously when the girl looks over at her. "How about we go get some more drinks?"

I'LL BE NICE, UP UNTIL I'M NOT. I'M TELLING YOU , YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE 1 A.M. SIDE OF ME

WHEN I'M TWO DRINKS IN AND YOU JUST CAN'T LEAVE ME AND MY MAN ALONE

Y/N thanks the bartender as she grabs her third drink of the night, feeling more tipsy as the prior shots began to hit. She began to make her way back to her group, seeing as they're all dancing to the flow of the music booming through the club.

Peyton sees her coming over, holding her hand out to make Y/N spin around in a twirl while bopping to the song playing, taking a sip of her drink.

She sees her tall pretty boyfriend, heading his way. Once she is close to him, she wraps her free hand around his back while sipping and nodding along to the song. He looks down and finds her eyes, letting a light smile form on his lips before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"You add it to my tab?" he asks over the loud music, his lips barely touching her ear, but enough to send chills down her spine. She nods, swaying her hips around.

Luke places her in front of him before continuing his conversation with Nico next to him, his hands roaming the sides of her body as he let her dance in front of him. She sang aloud with the girls, letting Maya dance her way over and take Y/N's hands to have her join her girls.

They danced together, sometimes dancing on one another or next to each other while singing the lyrics out loud. Y/N could feel the alcohol buzzing through her bloodstream, letting her hands run freely up and down her body, then along Maya's whom began dancing against Y/N's front.

She let her eyes close and her head fall back with a laugh as her friends began to grind against her, happily playing along. She ten snapped out of it when she feels a squeeze on her arm, seeing Peyton point towards where their group is standing.

Y/N's face falters, a knowing look spreading across her face as she watched Mary try to have Luke dance with her. She could see the disinterest in his face as she would hang on him and take his hand to act if he was trying to spin her around.

"She needs to learn her place," Peyton says over the music and Maya agreeing before they both try to make their way over, only to be pulled back from Y/N.

She just smirked at the girls. "You guys keep dancing with your boys, I'll be back." is all she says before leaving, and walking towards the group.

Luke must've felt her stare, because his eyes find hers and he looks more annoyed than scared. She could see the pleading in his eyes to help, and she just keeps her stare on him as she walks over.

Once Y/N makes it in front of him, Mary immediately looks at her with a fake smile. "Oh my gosh I was starting to worry where you went! Figured I'd keep him company for you!" she says so innocently, Y/N just rolls her eyes and looks up at Luke.

She immediately lets her hands trail up his own hands and to his forearms, slowly backing towards the dance floor as he slowly follows her.

His eyes never left hers, as if he was in some sort of trance. The only time it broke was when she turned away from him, only to lead him through the crowd and towards her friends that were getting close on the floor with their men.

She halts when she's where she wants to be, immediately taking his hands, one hand empty and one holding his almost empty drink, wrapping them around her front. He lets his head lower towards her neck, close to the soft spot behind her ear. Chills forming along her skin.

Y/N can feel the smirk that comes onto his face, letting his lips meet the soft spot, she slowly begins to sway against him. She lets her body roll back into his, following the music and the flow it gives, hearing sighs leave his lips as she moves.

Her hands leave his as they sat lowly on her hips as he was leading them to roll back against him, her hands trailing up her own body before they fly back behind her.

She lets them grip onto the back of his neck where his curls poked out from his backwards hat, earning a groan from her in the process.

"You are trouble." Luke chuckles.

The pair rolled against each other as if it was just them, her blood pumping through her ears. She felt herself weaken when he let one of his hands trail up from her hips, up her stomach, making sure to take his time caressing her breasts before it finally made its way to her neck. At first he let it sit there, but then he tightened his grip and pulled her straight back against him.

She lets out a breathless laugh, biting her lips to keep from a full out smile forming onto her lips. She is snapped out of her trance when she feels someone bump into them a few times, looking over to see Mary grinding up against someone herself, her eyes looking at Luke's the entire time.

But her eyes narrow as she realizes that Luke is so entranced by Y/N to notice her. Mary then sees Y/N's caught her, soon trying to act as if she wasn't just trying to make Luke to jealous.

Y/N just rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the said girl who is trying to hard for a man who is taken.

Look at the floor or ceiling, or anyone else you're feelin

Take home whoever walks in, just keep your eyes off him

The boys all went and sat down for a break, Y/N and her girls all going to get refills on their drinks.

Y/N was beyond annoyed.

She didn't know what else she had to do to get Mary off of Luke, or away from him.

"Girl how have you not put your hands on her yet? I would've when thought it was okay to try and steal Luke while y'all were dancing." Peyton says, thanking the Bartender.

"I don't fucking know," Y/N scoffs with an amused smirk. "She's insufferable. It's not like I don't trust him because I can tell he is just as annoyed. She just can't take no or take a hint."

"If she were all over Jack, I'd be dragging her out by her long ass fake lashes." Maya says, making the girls laugh as they all sipped on their drinks.

"You may just have to fuck him in front of her to get her to leave y'all be," Peyton shrugs, making Y/N almost spit her drink out.

"You're unbelievable!" Maya laughs loudly, playfully pushing Peyton.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head as she laughs, her face heating up from the comment made. "I can't stand her. She doesn't know how to keep her hands or eyes off of him."

Maya nods and points towards their group. "Especially now."

Y/N looks behind her and towards where Maya is pointing, her joking demeanor falling from her face.

Mary was slyly sitting so close to Luke that she was basically almost on his lap, her legs dangling over his thighs, seeing Luke shrug them off as her face leans against his shoulder.

"If you don't drag her out of here, I fucking will." Peyton says.

Y/N turns back around and downs her drink, asking the bartender for a lemon drop shot. "Girl I don't think another shot is the answer right now. She is basically trying to kiss up on your man right now." Maya says, her eyes staying behind them and staring at Mary and Luke.

"Trust me if there's anything that's going to get Luke going," she thanks the bartender for the shot, and hold it up. "It's this."

"What's a lemon drop shot gonna do?"

"You remember the first night we went out to a party together at the Michigan Hockey house?"

"The night where he basically fucked you on the beer pong table?"

"it's because of the one thing I did that got his jealous ass to catch a hint."

Maya raised a brow. "I'm so confused."

Peyton cut in. "She shotgunned a shot into his mouth while everyone watched."

Maya's eyes widened. "Oh he ate that shit up, I remember that clearly now that you say it."

Y/N nods. "Exactly. Just watch how Miss Possessive works." She takes the shot with her, walling back to their section, watching as Luke shrugs Mary off for the fiftieth time of the night.

Y/N's eyes caught Luke's, the complete relief he felt seeing her face making itself closer to him made him feel loads better.

He saw her holding a small glass in her hand, her eyes leaving his to look at Mary. The girl was watching as she threw a leg over his lap so she sat with them on both sides while facing him. His hands immediately coming to rub alongside her thighs.

"I've never been more happy to see you," he says as he blows out a breath. Her eyes still were looking at Mary, keeping the eye contact as she downs the shot and sets the glass behind her.

That's when Y/N's eyes find Luke's, he sees that she didn't swallow the shot and held it in her mouth. "You good baby?" he asks, his hands rubbing his thighs under her dress.

She says nothing, her hands coming up to lean his head back fully. She takes one of her thumbs and presses it against his bottom lip to have him his mouth, her own head leaning down and over his.

Y/N had one hand resting on the front of his neck, feeling his Adams apple bob, while her other hand sat against his jawline with her thumb pulling his bottom lip down to open his mouth fully.

Luke's eyes became lidded, his pants becoming tighter as he knew what was coming next. Y/N puckered her lips, spitting the shot slowly from her mouth and pour into his own mouth. Once it all emptied into his mouth, Luke watched her bite her bottom lip as she took her thumb and pushed his mouth closed slowly.

"Swallow baby" she says lowly, making his face heat up and listen to her orders. He watched as a drop fell down from her bottom lip, his pants feeling tighter than they have been.

Y/N snaps out of her gaze with Luke, her eyes snapping towards Mary whom looked embarrassed and avoided the pair.

"Damn where can I get me a Y/N?" Nico shouts playfully, earning a chuckle from Y/N.

"Very funny," she says, going to stand from his lap, but is stopped as Luke's hands place a harsher grip on her hips. Her eyes fall back towards the boy, who still has his head back against the couch top and his eyes closed.

"Don't move right now," he says, earning a smirk from Y/N.

"You alright honey?" she jokes, watching him huff out a breath.

Before she knows what's happening, he's sitting up, then stands with her still in his grip. his hands traveling to her ass as he adjusts her. She wraps her legs around his torso, the boys all looking at him with amusement on their faces.

"We're heading out a bit early," Luke says to the boys. "Not feeling too well."

"Yeah I'm sure that's what it is." Jack calls out. Luke squints his eyes at his brother, his eyes looking over at Mary who is looking at Y/N with so much envy and jealousy. So he thought why not add fuel to the fire?

Luke's eyes find his brother's once again. "Fine. I'm turned on, and I'm taking my girl home. Might fuck in the car too. Who knows." Luke says, making Y/N's toes curl at his words.

Jack's eyes widen as Luke smirks, walking away from the crowd yelling out a 'goodnight' as they disappear to exit the club.

"You are a troublemaker, love." Luke says as they make it down the sidewalk.

"Needed to show you're mine." she says, placing kisses down his neck as she grips his curls.

Luke groans, his hands gripping her ass harshly in which causes her to moan against his skin. "You sure are miss possessive huh?"

Y/N's face leave his neck to look up at him with the eyes she knows always make him go crazy. "So what if I am, baby?" she says lowly, his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes multiple times, biting his lip as he smirked.

"Yeah we're not making it down the road before I fuck you in this car."

[sunsburns]

going to basketball!luke’s game in his jersey and then he fucks you in to after 🤤🤤

ohhh this is over a year old i'm so sorry josie, but i see ur vision. it's giving the opening of 17 again tbh!!! and i’m talking a messy, sweaty, nasty fuck where he’s still running on adrenaline. (18+)

he finds you after the game with that look in his eyes—the one that’s half-cocky smirk, half-ravenous stare. sweat still clings to his temples, jersey clinging to his skin, and his hand slides to the small of your back the second you're close enough.

"you wore that for me?" he murmurs, voice low as his fingers tug at the hem of his old jersey hanging loose on you. it's long enough to fit oversized, but short enough that he can slide his hand up underneath it without anyone noticing as you stand in the back hallway of the gym.

you grin, "thought you might like it."

he doesn't say anything. just looks at you, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and then you’re pressed up against the wall—fast, messy, urgent. like he's been thinking about this the entire game. like scoring points wasn’t the only thing he planned on doing tonight.

minutes later, you're in the locker room. not even locked. you’re bent over the bench, both of you still half-dressed, the cool wood digging into your thighs. luke’s jersey sways loosely on your body with every thrust, his number on your back bouncing in the mirror in front of you. and he’s obsessed with it.

“shit,” he breathes, one hand gripping your hip while the other slides up the small of your back, palm ghosting over his number. “look at you. y’so perfect like this.”

he watches the way your body moves, the way his name on your back means something. his breath is ragged, hot against your skin as he leans over to whisper, to kiss and mouth behind your ear.

his fingers slide around to your front, slipping under the jersey to touch where you’re already soaked. he runs wobbly, slopping, tight circles against your clit. “all that cheering. screaming my name. standing up in the front row looking like that.”

he’s still got his game shorts on, waistband pushed low, but everything else is gone. skin on skin, sweat-slicked and raw. you can feel his muscles twitch every time he thrusts in deeper, his hand gripping your ass, then sliding over the fabric of the jersey again like he can’t decide if he wants to fuck you or the idea of you in his colours.

and when you finally gasp his name, head dropping forward, he grabs your hair gently and tugs until you’re upright again, so you can see yourself. see the jersey, the flushed heat in your cheeks, the look in his eyes behind you in the mirror.

“say it again,” he pants. “wanna hear it.”

“luke—” it’s broken, almost a sob. your knees are shaking.

“that’s right.” he grins, smug and glowing. “say it like you did when i hit that three-pointer.”

[the-auguer]

Surprise, Surprise

Tiny little drabble of Sylus based on a random text convo where he’s like “yeah, lol, ppl are attacking the base rn baby”. he’s my babygirl and I’m literally obsessed with him etc etc. no content warnings, just fluff

~

There are strange noises coming from the other side of the house. It makes your brows furrow, uncertainty making you pause in the grand foyer. It’s in your nature as a hunter to  investigate, to take initiative and listen to your gut. Your hand drifts down to your Harrier 700, lightly thumbing at the holster. 

But you’re tired. This week hadn’t just dug its fangs into you, it had nearly ripped bloody chunks from your body. Literally. An entire pack of Elysian Lupus had been giving you pain since Sunday— and these were smart little shits because they somehow knew to run away while other Wanderers attacked civilians. You had taken a grim kind of pleasure in finally destroying the last one. 

So instead of unholstering your very illegal, very dangerous gun, you pluck your phone from your pocket and open up your contacts. 

Sylus picks up after a ring and a half— practically late for him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, sweetie? It’s rather early for you to be calling.”

“Captain Jenna gave me the day off,” you can’t help but brag. “Due to my excellence in the field and all that. I was going to surprise you.”

“Were you?” Sylus hums. There are more sounds on the other side of the line, further cementing your belief that something is happening. “What changed?”

“There are weird sounds coming from somewhere. Is something going on?”

“Oh, nothing much.” There is something like a pained grunt that reaches your ears, but it’s not Sylus’s so you keep waiting. “The base is just under attack.”

Your chest tightens, your hand gripping the handle of your gun. It takes a couple seconds, but your knee-jerk compulsion to charge to Sylus’s side subsides. Whatever is going on, Sylus doesn’t sound all that worried about it. If anything, there is a bit of laughter bleeding through his voice. Luke and Kieran are more than likely next to him as well, as they were the ones you texted to ensure that Sylus was even home for your surprise. Not to mention the seemingly endless supply of personal weapons Sylus could use if he decided his fists weren’t enough. Whatever idiot decided to attack Sylus on his turf— in his own house— deserved what was coming to them. The muscles that had tensed without your realization slowly relaxed. 

“Do you need any help?” you ask, just to be sure. 

“Not unless you want to play with any of the mice, kitten.” Sylus chuckles at his own joke. Once again, you think to yourself that he really is lucky that he is the most attractive man alive. Those words in anyone else’s mouth would have made you hang up. 

“I’ll just wait for you to finish. I’ve done enough playing this week,” you tell him, squatting down to unlace your boots. 

“Ah yes,” Sylus purrs. “My exemplary hunter has worked so hard this week.”

“Those stupid mutts,” you complain as you toe off your shoes, feet aching pleasantly against the cool tile flooring. Driving here by bike has not helped the soreness of your body, but you’re hoping the long weekend here will heal you. “Did you see them, Sylus? They were playing with me.”

“Yes, I did. How very cruel of them to doge Miss Hunter. How silly of them to want to stay alive.”

“It was,” you reply, padding down the massive halls. “They targeted other Fluxes on purpose, Sylus. I know they knew I couldn’t chase them if I had other problems on my hands.” You poke your head around a corner. “Where are you at, by the way?”

“Near the grounds. They thought they could weasel their way in under the fence. Oh, look Kieran. They finally brought out their guns.”

True to his word, you hear the echo of gunshots both through the phone and from the air around you. Luckily, the grounds are a far way off from Sylus’s bedroom, so your original plan is still intact. You continue to walk. 

“Keep those away from me,” you order. “I’m too tired to dodge anything.”

“They won’t make it through the walls, sweetie. They’re reinforced.”

Despite his words, the sound of gunfire abruptly cuts off. 

“Perfect. Who are they anyway?”

“Who knows,” Sylus sounds deeply uninterested in the answer. “I don’t keep track of small fry.”

“Yes you do. I bet you let them attack. Were you getting bored, Sylus?”

Sylus laughs, low and pleased. It makes you smile. “Well, if I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t be entertaining other guests today.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. And now you’re surprised and happy that I’m here.”

“Am I?”

Your hand pauses on the door handle of his bedroom. It was presumptuous to show up to his house, to invite yourself in. But you had rather gotten the impression that he wanted you to be presumptuous. Unless you read it wrong and now you look like an asshole. “Are you?” 

There’s a slight pause before Sylus’s voice comes back through the phone, sounding even warmer than before. “I’m very happy. So happy I’ve grown bored of my other guests and aren’t letting them play as long as I scheduled. I’ve even asked the chef to come back in for the weekend.” 

There’s a glow of delight pressing on the inside of your chest, coiling around your heart. You open the door to Sylus’s room and go even further by opening the door to his closet. “Mm, good.”

“What’s that rustling I’m hearing?” 

“I’m in your closet,” you inform him as you run your fingers over the clothes in consideration. “I didn’t want to carry anything on the bike and I figured you’d have anything I needed.”

“I do,” he says, a satisfied inflection in his tone. “And if there’s anything I don’t have, I’ll get it.”

A smile pulls at your lips, the pleased feeling in your chest swelling again. “I know,” you reply, feeling impossibly fond. You pick out a shirt of his that you like, one of his casual sweaters that you’ve seen him wear more than a singular time, and walk out. 

“What are your plans for our weekend?”

“Nothing really.” You put him on speaker before placing your phone on his nightstand to change. “I figured we could sleep, actually, since it’s around the time that you usually go to bed. I could use a really long nap after this week.” You leave your bike clothes on the floor in a heap and your gun in the holster on the nightstand. You’ll fix them later. You’re sore and tired and bundled up in Sylus’s sweater in front of the comfiest bed known to man. You’re not folding those things. 

Before crawling under his duvet, you pull your phone off the nightstand. Speakerphone is loud enough to catch the intake of breath from the other side. 

“Kitten…. are you in my bed?”

“Mhm,” you reply, arranging the pillows as you like them. “You don’t have to rush what you’re doing. I told you I’d wait.”

There is a moment of silence before Sylus says a simple, even, “I’ll be there in a moment,” before hanging up.

Bemused, you toss your phone back onto the nightstand and pull the duvet up to your chin. The bed is so wonderfully comfortable, you feel your weary muscles sink into the plush beauty of it. 

You don’t do anything more than rest your eyes for a few moments before the door is opening. It’s telling that your hand doesn’t even twitch towards your gun, that your eyes only crack open to greet him. Sylus would never let someone into a room where you were resting. 

Sylus strides in, hardly stopping for the half a second it takes to close the door behind him. You don’t have the time to say anything before he is on the bed, pulling you to his chest. 

“Hi,” you breathe. He’s on top of the blankets, making it a slight struggle to pull your arms out from under them to hold him in return. Despite having just been in a gunfight, his clothes are pristine and his skin is free from any sweat. There’s the faint smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. You press your face into his neck to inhale all of it. 

“When you said you would wait,” he starts, hands smoothing back and forth over your spine, his low voice rumbling through his chest to yours, “I didn’t imagine it would be in my bed. In my clothes.” 

You try to pull back to look at him, put his hand pushed your face back into your neck. “Don’t. Stay right here.”

“Sorry,” you whisper back. Should you have asked before getting in his bed? He doesn’t seem to be mad at all, so maybe not? “You didn’t have to leave because of me.”

“Don’t apologize either.” He squeezes you closer, the thick duvet squished flat between the two of you. “I am… very happy. I am happier here than I was out there. Luke and Kieran will handle the rest.”

“Okay,” you mumble, lips brushing his skin. “I— I’m happy too. That you’re here now. I wanted to see you.”

“You should have said so.”

You scoff. “It was obvious. Why else would I be here?”

Sylus hums. “To arrest me, perhaps? That would be fun.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” you say darkly. You don’t think you could stomach even pretending to arrest Sylus. You shift around trying to pull some slack from the part of the duvet trapped under Sylus’s hulking body. “Get ready for bed so you can get under the blanket with me.”

A soft kiss is pressed to the top of your forehead. “Alright. Stay here.”

You turn over to watch him as he walks into his closet. He emerges fairly quickly after, just in a pair of pajama pants. You catch a glimpse of a pile on the floor of his closet before he shuts the door. 

As he makes his way back, you peel back the blanket from his side, inviting him in. Once he lays down, he pulls you to him again, hitching your leg over his thigh and sliding his arm under your pillow. You shift, settling into the position, wrapping your arm back around him. He leans in so that your nose brushes his. 

“I might insist that you do this every weekend,” he murmurs, eyes locked with yours. 

“I might let you,” you say back.

Sylus sighs, pushing your head into his neck again, his nose in your hair now. “Your answer had better be the same when you’re no longer tired.”

“We’ll see.”

When your eyes start to drift closed, he says quietly, “It was a good surprise.”

You smile into the skin of his neck.

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how clingy sylus copes with your absence

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

characters: sylus

link to master list here!!!

authors notes: so basically we all love clingy!sylus and i don’t think people talk about it enough, so i here i try to do him some justice </3

i tried not to mischaracterise him, but i find it difficult to imagine how he’d react. he’s a full fledged adult - 27/28 years old - so i can see him trying to be mature about it. but after a while, it gets hard to wait any longer no?

more below the cut!! :3

first few days of your absence sylus is fine, i mean it’s one day - people get busy, people get tired. sylus understands better than most that life gets tough.

he checks his messages maybe two or three times to see if you’ve responded, but nothing. that’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

after five-ish days he’s a little irritated, how could you forget about him for that long?

yeah you could be busy, but seriously?

he gives you a call but it sends straight to voicemail, to which he refuses to leave one.

i bet he secretly feels a little embarrassed at how much your absence is bothering him, and out of spite he refuses to check his phone during the day.

“Tsk, ignoring me?”

luke and kieran definitely notice his small shift in attitude - his nonchalant facade isn’t perfect after all.

they are also secretly cursing you for disappearing, i mean come on! how could you leave them with an angry boss!!

another few days pass, how long has it been since he last saw you? a week?

gets fidgety and cracks, calling you again - no reply.

when he gets sent to voicemail he speaks in his typical, slow tone.

“Why aren’t you picking up my calls, kitten? Get back to me when you listen to this.”

despite his seemingly calm voice, he’s starting to really lose his cool. your absence was unsettling, and yeah he’s disappeared before for a few days on business, he at least picks up calls.

he never leaves you clueless for even a few days, let alone a whole week.

mephisto is sent out for surveillance of the n109 zone, and sylus keeps his phone close. always in his vision, hearing range, whatever.

every notification catches his attention, eyes snapping to the illuminated screen only to slowly drag away when he sees it isn’t you.

from the first to second week of your absence, his irritability shoots up. sylus is getting agitated, brushing it off as annoyance.

after all, what the fuck did he do for you to ignore him for this long?

he texts you almost every day now, the texts getting increasingly shorter, decreasingly floral and more concerned.

“Kitten, why aren’t you picking up my calls?”

“[YN], are you really ignoring me?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Call me.”

he’s calling you every other day now, his sleeping schedule is deteriorating and his mind isn’t focused.

sylus is getting angry at himself, why is he so messed up about this? so what if you haven’t spoken to him in 13 days, isn’t it pathetic to be so affected by your absence?

he lived 27+ years without you, he can live another hundred without.

yet he still finds himself rearranging the plushies you two caught together, checking for your messages, scrolling through your posts.

almost a month has passed since your disappearance, and sylus isn’t getting any better.

why did you go? are you okay? did you get hurt?

god forbid something happened to you.

he’s hired some people to search for you, fuck waiting he’s worried.

finds himself drinking more alcohol with his meals than usual, to the point where even he - a heavy weight - feels his head becoming a little dizzy, his hands twitching for his phone.

one night, after downing a bottle of wine himself, he calls you at least five times, before leaving a voicemail.

his voice lacks its usual slow, bored tone. instead his words are a little slurred, his voice seems a little higher pitched - not too much but it is noticeable - and he’s speaking a little faster too.

“[YN]? Where are you, are you okay? Please pick up, it’s been a month. Do you really- have I deterred you? I know you dislike me, have you ran away? If you have, then at least tell me you’re alive. I mi-”

he catches himself before he says it, because he’s just realised something, something that was so blatantly obvious he feels shocked that he hadn’t noticed it

he misses you, he isn’t angry. he isn’t annoyed that you disappeared, he’s upset.

the fact that it took so long for him to realise is stupid, and all he can do it sit and chuckle drunkenly to himself.

“I miss you, [YN]. Please call me back.”

when you finally call him - exactly 43 days since you left - he almost scrambles to his phone

sylus picks up immediately, yet miraculously finds himself at a loss for words. what does someone say after over a month of waiting?

kind of just stands there, frozen - if you wait before speaking you can hear his almost shaky breaths

“Hey Sylus, you miss me? You left over 13 voicemails and 65 texts, I’m touched.”

gods your voice smoothed over his tense muscles like honey

he sits down, heart beating faster than usual. it’s stupid how much hearing your voice affected him, but he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the sound.

if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fucking hard

“Come here, now.”

when you do arrive, you seriously expect to get killed or something. his tone sounded seriously pissed - i mean like the most pissed you’ve ever heard it

but when you open the door you just get swallowed into a chest and a pair of arms

if you try to move away or struggle, they just hold you tighter and restrict your actions and- oh, sylus is hugging you.

his face is angled down into your head, and you can’t see his expression - only the beating of his heart against you, and it was fast.

“Where the fuck were you? I missed you.”

explain whatever the hell you want to sylus, he’s already decided that you’re not going out without him knowing ever again

probably tries to download some sort of GPS tracker on your hunter’s watch to make sure he knows where you are

TLDR; sylus doesn’t realise how much he really cares for you until you go MIA for over a month in which he starts to genuinely tweak out! :3

AN; guys i actually spat this out in like an hour i think i might have clingy!sylus brain rot because oh my god anyways this isn’t proof read i just needed to express my love for clingy!sylus that gets worried because he isn’t just a dominant badass gang leader he’s also human and he also gets sad and upset and feels emotions argahdbansn he just sucks at recognising his own desires (get it because his evol eye can see other people’s desires but he can’t see his own :3)