#expose your fictional crushes

[popironrye]

Pick Six Fictional Crush Mix

❤️Tag Game❤️

Wanted to make a positive f/o or simple fictional crush game. Please share! I love seeing people gush about their favorite characters. :3

Using gifs, pick six fictional crushes you have and share them. Then tag six friends to do the same.

Ardeth Bay from The Mummy 🦂

Dr. Otto Octavius from Spider-Man 2 🐙

Bucky (Specifically The Winter Soldier) from Captain America 2 ⭐️

Crowley from Good Omens 🐍

Dracula from Renfield ⚰️

Dwayne from The Lost Boys 🦇

@ravens-all @mikey-darinstar @hypocriticaltypwriter @ria-coolgirl @starlahuskyz @goodnight-bloodsucker

[nemesyaaa]

love in the dark — rafe cameron x gf's!twin! reader

summary ; it's all about your sister twin until rafe made a mistake by moaning your name instead of hers.....

warnings ; +18 content. minors dni. forbidden au. wrong sister trope. smut. p in v. oral (m.). attention's whore mentions. evil/angel twins. jjpope as bestfriend's readers and losers club bc i said so. cheating. little guilt. not girl girl sister content. be aware of the warnings before reading. i dont think its really dark content but it's kinda twisted so if you're not into it, just don't read it. friendly reminder that hate is useless and only hurtful for nothing.

words count : 1,8k.

author's note ; also a big thanks you to my girls @rafesangelita & @rafesheaven for helping me with this au ! it worked and I'm grateful ‼️✨

You were so different from your sister.

She was smart, popular, talented and the head of the cheerleader team. She always got the boys you wanted, reminding you that you could always dream of them, never be on their side. She was the beautiful girl of the school, her name literally glowing on every crush's list, the so-called “ kook princess ” by everyone.

She was too pretty to let you have a chance, which was unfair because you were literally her twin. You were living in her shadow. You were the so-called “ nerd & loser ” , the girl too focused on her revisions and hyperfixations, who love libraries and comics, having online friends and playing video games while chatting on discord. You were too online to be seen in real life.

All your boyfriends were literally fictional characters, and they were too fucked in mind to help you get popular at school. You always had a thing for depressed, stupid, losers, psychopaths boys. But it doesn't mean you were different from girls that had a crush on your sister's boyfriend. Who hadn't ?

Rafe Cameron was literally THE dream fantasy. You thought you had a chance when he ran toward you on the field, his helmet locked on his arms. He was so hot, his sweaty hair flying over his forehead while he was running, his big nose and wet lips glistening over the sunlight. His eyes were bright in a powerful way. You found him perfect. And you could imagine how easy life was for him because of his beauty privilege.

He smiled at you when no one did. And it was enough for you to fantasize about him, to imagine something with him. You were a hopeless romantic, forced to romanticize every small action in your life.

When he was close to you, you realized how big he was. His shoulders were broad, his chest firm and strong. His biceps were easily flexing like all the muscles on his body. The gym shorts were exposing his muscular legs. His jaw was art, especially aimed toward you just like that, as his blue eyes were watching nothing but you.

" Hey. ” he first said.

" Hey. " You said, wanting to slap yourself. Crazy how you just said the same thing as him but sounded more stupid. " Fucking loser. Do better. " you murmured to yourself.

" Can i have your sister's number ? "

You could swore at the moment that you lost your heart, as the same way your smile dropped.

But it was obvious. Every boy wanted your sister. You couldn't blame Rafe because why on earth would people want you when they could have a better version of you ? The thought of this was real and heartbreaking.

You forced a smile to answer him, not wanting him to know what's on your mind. You were already a loser, he didn't need to know how much. " Yes...yes, you can..." you just said softly, trying to hold back your tears, tired of this situation. " At this point, i think everyone has it..." You murmured to yourself with a bitter voice.

" What did you say ? ”

" What ? I said she's lucky. You're so pretty. " You replied, embarrassing yourself even more.

" I'm the lucky one. She's pretty. Guess i’ll see you at home. " He said with the cockiest smile ever.

So you started to see Rafe at home every night and day. He was always with your sister, they were always together.

Like Twins. Ironically.

But something was off. Your sister was unable to love. She just loved attention from boys. She wanted to be the attraction. She was always talking shit behind Rafe's back, treating him like nothing and you were wondering how he was still there with her.

That was crazy how everyone loved him at the house. Your parents already called him son, your sister was fakely in love, and you were really in love with him.

She was always kissing him, pulling him so close to her to steal a kiss. And after that, they were basically making out in front you. They didn't even care about your presence. And you started to think it was on purpose. Your sister wanted you to know that Rafe will never be yours, that she has something you would never have. The boy was hers.

But one day, you were at home after class, thinking of relaxing yourself during a show but something caught your attention.

You were upstairs when you heard some noises. Not the noises you were supposed to hear but you were used to with those people. You shouldn't but you walked toward the sound. The door was a little bit opened, so you checked.

And you saw it. Rafe was over your sister, oh you could see he was deep balls inside her, thrusting in and out her dripping core. His back was huge, covering your sister's body. They were fucking and from what you can heard, he was doing so good. He was fast, dick driving to her spot, hips slamming back and forth against her body. He was kissing her, hand on her throat, blocking her from breathing and fingers stuffed in mouth to the point she gagged on it. Her lips were pooling with saliva as she was nothing but a mess.

When you were about to step away, he did something that choked you.

“Fuck.. you're doing so good to me, y/n..."

Your fucking name. On his lips. When he was with your sister.

But that wasn't all. He did cum at this exact moment. He charged your twin with his load, whispering your name again and again until her pussy was full of his seed, until his voice was shaking to remain quiet.

“ What did you just say ? ” Your sister argued, a voice so loud and clear. “ Did you really say my twin's name ? ”

Oh she was mad. Really mad.

But for what ? Because she wasn't her man's attention, or for you ?

You covered your mouth with your hand to not scream.

" Shit, baby. I promise that's not what you think...Fuck, I'm sorry. "

“ You did not fucking do that. Did you really think of her ? God, you're such a jerk. ”

You went to your room, locked it because you were scared of your sister's tantrum. You tried to not think about it but you couldn't. Rafe really said it.

That was your name. He knew that you existed.

You were on call with your favorite losers. JJ and Pope. And so you asked them…

" What does it means when your sister's boyfriend is moaning your name while he's fucking her ? "

Pope's was gagged for a second while JJ first answered. " That he's fucking the wrong sister. I always tell you're prettier than her. "

" I would give you a chance if you weren't my bestfriend. "

" Did you really friendzone me ? "

" I mean... I'm into my sister's boyfriend. "

" But he's into her..." Pope corrected. " Sorry, after all, you have your chance. "

" I can't do that to my twin. "

" Well...if she can do that to you...maybe you should think of your villain era. "

" I'm not a mean girl. "

" You're not a girl girl too for wanting to Fuck your sister's boyfriend. So don't worry, you can be a bitch in peace. "

When someone knocked on the door, you cut the voice call and close your laptop before opening it.

It was Rafe. His hair was still messy from the sex, his voice deep and tired. He was all sweaty, wearing nothing but a black boxer. He was so insanely muscled, his pecs and abs glowing with sweat that was leading to a soft happy trail under his belly and heading inside the fabric of his pants. You couldn't stop yourself from lurking at the bulge. And the fact you know that he just had sex doesn't help at all.

" It's not gonna help if you continue to stare like that..." He mocked, but in a gentle way.

You looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with yourself. “ You're gonna act shy now ? Come on, we all know that's not what you are. " He continued while moving inside your room.

" Hey ! What are you doing ? "

" That's a nice room. " He complimented, looking everywhere. Your comics, posters, books, goodies and video games. “ Look like you've been alone here for so long. "

" You don't know anything about my life. " You said.

" I can tell you're nothing like your sister. You love all those things she hates. "

" And why aren't you with her ? "

" She's taking a shower. "

“ So that's why you suddenly give me attention ? ” You said bitterly. “ She's not there so now I now exist to you ? ”

He chuckled, before heading toward you, grabbing your face with his hand.

“ Oh you think it's easy to forget about you ? I see you everytime i see her. But not only... "

You glared at him for the first time he was in your room, he managed to have your attention. He smiled softly.

" I fuck you everytime i fuck her. "

You didn't care how weird it was, only cared about what he thought of you. In a second, your lips were on his.

Rafe didn't say no, he pulled you closer, his mouth pressed against your sweet lips as you felt his nose crushing against yours. Now, he could tell that you were different from your sister by the taste.

" Do you always do that ? " He whispered, licking at the string of saliva between you.

“ Do what ? "

" Stealing your sister's boyfriend ? "

" At least, it's the first time it works. " You played back. “ I want you, now”

“ Do you think you can make me cum in time ? ”

“ Do you think i'm inexperienced ? ”

“ I think you should get on your knees to prove me wrong. ”

He was against the door, while you were now on your knees, sucking his dick while your twin was still in the shower.

You weren't really proud but you were starting to think you were better than her. And the thought was obsessive. With a hand fisting his length, and your mouth pumping harder, you were doing your best. He was looking at you, fingers over your hair. You were pretty with his dick inside your throat, holding your boobs as he started to fuck your face.

The bathroom's door opened and you freaked out but Rafe forced you to still hold the pace, telling you to not worry about that.

“ Rafey…Rafey, where are you ? ” You heard her say.

With no answer, you panicked at her footsteps approaching your door. “Did you see, Rafe?” she asked.

With devilish eyes, Rafe released his cock from your mouth, inviting you to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“ I-i don't know…” You just said with a little guilt.

“ So useless…” You heard her say before walking away.

She was so mean, you hated her.

Rafe saw that you were hurt by her words, and grabbed your jaw slowly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “ She's wrong, baby. Look at you, how useful are you. ”

And you smiled. “ And pretty. ”

“ We share the same face. We're twins, Rafe. ”

“ But there's something I'm sure you don't share with her…what about spreading your legs for me and let me show you ? ”

You nodded.

“ Think you can moan the right sister's name this time ? ”

[pretty-little-mind33]

dbf Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: Your dad sends Logan over to help you build some furniture in your new apartment, unaware you'll end up with Logan's head in between your thighs.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: swearing, mean!logan, dom!logan, sub!reader, possessive!reader, fictional age gap (reader is early twenties), praise, degradation, unprotected sex, mentions of not being on the pill, oral sex (f and m receiving), power dynamics, kinda dubious consent in the beginning but not really lol, sweet aftercare

~ i have no clue what i'm doing with his character 🥲 be kind pls ~

LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

"No that's what I told him," you chuckle, holding your phone to your ear as you struggle to open one of your moving boxes with the scissors in your other hand. Your friend on the other line returns your chuckle and continues to ask her nosey questions. 

You're interrupted by a sharp knock. "One second, my dad's here! He's helping me move some of my furniture around and also assemble them—" you say and leap over some other moving boxes to your front door. 

"Hi Da–" you exclaim, holding the door open only your voice suddenly becomes stuck in your throat when you see that this certainly isn't your dad. Your eyes round and your hand falters on your phone. The man before you is one of your dad's closest friends.

"Logan," you whisper, which earns a questioning remark from your friend in your ear and you press your hand over your phone's microphone.

Logan pulls his dangling cigar from his mouth, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips and heading for you. You cough and he smirks. He's towering over you, dressed in a casual pair of dark denim jeans, a thick gold-trimmed belt, and a white tank top that accentuates his muscles. You look away in an attempt to ignore that familiar stirring in your stomach.

"Your Daddy sent me." Logan's voice is hoarse as he looks you over. You feel exposed in the baggy shirt and tiny shorts you're dressed in. "I was in around anyways and he mentioned you needed someone's help with some furniture," he peers in behind you at the mess you'd made of your new apartment.

"Mm. Came round' to help a lady out—" he reaches over and hangs up your phone for you. He shakes it and smirks, "Rude to be on the phone when you have visitors, honey." 

You stare at Logan again, taking him in. Your stomach fills with familiar butterflies from your schoolgirl crush but if your dad trusts Logan, you should too. "That's very kind," you say honestly and let him inside, taking your phone and setting it on the counter. You pull up your shirt to cover more of your shoulder and curse your choice to go braless this morning. 

You point to all the boxes and the array of furniture in the living room as you walk. "Well, this is all of it," you say and turn to him, watching as his knuckles flex.

Logan hums as he looks around and then down at you. "Now why don't you fetch me a cold beer, sweet girl, so that I can start on this," he moves an Ikea box with his foot, "pink vanity," he smirks. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks but don't argue with him as you walk to the kitchen. You aren't gone for long as you come back with his beer. Logan stands directly in front of you, a screwdriver in his palm.

His lips curl upwards and you pray he hadn't heard you. "D'you have any more screws, honey?" he asks you simply, tilting his head.

You nod, looking through a drawer to find him some more screws.

Overall, it takes Logan only two hours to set up your vanity, desk, and some other shelves as well as move your furniture around just how you want it. You're sitting curled up on your couch, trying so hard not to stare at Logan's arms as he wipes some sweat from his brow, and finishes the last touch-ups on some of your shelves. 

"Shit," you suddenly jump up, "I'm late! It's Cam's house-warming party! I-" you're interrupted by a strong hand suddenly wrapping around your arm, causing a shiver up your spine, and your breath hitches when Logan roughly pulls you into him.

"Is that all?" he whispers, his lips near your ear, and you whimper. That only makes Logan tighten his hold as he leans down, his face in your hair as he inhales your scent and chuckles darkly, "I come here on my own time, to help you and you don't have the decency to say a simple thank you? Tsk, how disappointing."

"T-thank you," you say instantly, squirming as your cheeks warm and your heart pounds in your chest. You feel him pressed up behind you as he keeps you still. It's intoxicating and you're slightly scared. 

He knows it too. He can smell it on you.

Logan spins you around, his hand coming up to your cheek as he looks you over. 

"Has your dad never taught you any manners?" he asks calmly as he observes your reaction to his words. You feel small under his gaze. Logan looks so intimidating now as his hands find your hair and he pulls it back, smirking when you whine in pain. 

"No," he hums, "you're not leaving this apartment yet. Someone has to teach you a lesson in respect, you fuckin' brat." 

Your heart is pounding, staring at him with those round glossy eyes he loves so much. You feel your arousal pool in your stomach and shame consumes you. Logan's lips curl cruelly and he shifts closer, his body pressed to yours as his other hand crushes the sides of your mouth as he sees the tears stream down your cheeks. "You look much fuckin' prettier like this—with your eyes all glossy and dumb," he smirks and continues, "Now why don't you sit down like a good girl and tell me exactly how much cock you've taken." 

Logan drops your jaw and pulls out a chair for himself as you sink onto the couch again. He straddles the chair from behind, crossing his arms, and fakes a pout as he leans his chin on his forearm. "I wonder just how much can your pussy take, huh? Six inches? Seven?"

It feels mean. "Why are you doing this?" you ask, shrinking into the cushions. 

Logan smiles. "Because I can, and I want to," he shrugs, "And I think you want this too. No, I know you want this too."

"I don't want this, whatever this is! I'm telling my dad—" 

Logan chuckles darkly, "Your threats don't scare me," he tilts his head, "and do you know why, honey?" 

You glare at him, refusing to shake your head so he continues, "Because I know your cunt is dripping right now, am I right? I can fucking smell you from here," His words travel to your core and you squeeze your thighs on instinct. Logan sees this motion and smirks, "You can pretend all you want, but I know that look in your eyes. I've seen it enough times to know you're just like all the other girls; horny and desperate."

You feel overwhelmed as his words make you feel so good, your chest heaves as you watch him. Logan stands, smirking as he walks over and unbuckles his belt. He wastes no time, making a clicking sound to indicate that he wants you to unzip him. You just continue to stare at him, unable to wrap your head around that this is happening. 

"Hurry up, sweet girl, I don't have all damn day. Thank me properly."

"Logan—"

"Don't you pull the virgin bullshit, Y/n. I know you've been fucked. You're too much of fucking dirty slut not to have had someone's dick inside you," he chuckles deeply and earns a small whimper from you as embarrassment settles in your stomach. "Now make me feel good."

You sink to your knees, eyes still glossy as you fumble with his zipper. As much as you wish this wasn't hot to you, your pussy is screaming at you that she needs Logan. Logan seems to know because he smiles. 

"Your poor cunt needs me, huh?" he teases and takes himself out of his pants, stroking himself as pre-cum beads at his tip. "I'll reward her if you're good for me."

You lean forwards and he smears his cum on your lips, enjoying the look of you on your knees for him as you service him. He's impressive and every time he pushes into your throat, you cough a little and pull away, your eyes becoming watery. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper after a while, succumbing to him just like he wants as your voice quivers. 

Logan pets your hair, soothing his large thumb across your forehead. "Shhh, my sweet girl, I'll take care of you." 

And he means it because he wastes no time in having you sprawled across your new couch, legs spread wide as his tongue flicks across your clit, lifting the hood. He's enjoying the way you wail behind your hands, tightening your thighs around his head. He pushes your thighs apart, bruising them to his liking as he laps at your cunt. 

"L-Logan," you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head. You need him. "Please," you say and attempt to sit up, your makeup smudged from his rough kissing and your hair a mess. Your mouth tastes like Logan's cum and your pussy is aching for his cock inside it.

"Fuck, you're such a mess," Logan smirks, licking your juices from his lips. "Thank me again."

"Thank you for helping me," you whine, arching up. "Please, need you."

Logan stands and strokes himself again, caging you in with his muscular arms and the tip of his cock glides over your clit and then your entrance. You mewl, nails gripping his arms as you cry from both the overstimulation and also the restraint he's shown. 

He grunts as he pushes inside, going inch by inch so you can feel all of him. He peppers kisses across your jaw andwhispers sweet nothings into your ear. You're a whiny mess, drool falling from your lips as your mouth is perpetually open as you moan, feeling the delicious stretch of Logan's cock.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

"Your Daddy will kill me, honey," he whispers as he kisses behind your ear, his thrusts starting slow and precise. "Defiling his baby girl like this—fucking her perfect cunt," he grins, "only you aren't his baby girl anymore, hm? You're mine. All mine." He sinks his teeth into your neck, grinning as he marks you.   

"Mhm, yes, I'm yours, all yours."

Logan's thrusts become deeper and harsher. "Fucked the brat right out of you."

His kisses continue as he's fucking you roughly, enjoying the sound of your small whines because he knows he's making you feel so good. Finally, you come around him and wrap your arms around him, tears staining your cheeks as you tremble. Logan follows, emptying himself inside you. 

"I'm not on the pill," you sniffle, too hazy to truly think of the consequences. 

Logan can't help the way his heart leaps with excitement at this information but he pushes it down. He can't do that to you. Not now at least.

He pulls out, thinking of the mess you'd both made later as he kisses your lips. He's tender this time and he strokes his hand in your hair again. "I'm going to run to the store and get you a plan B, m'okay?"

He sees how fucked out you look and he grins, caressing his knuckles down the apples of your soft cheeks. "My sweet girl, look at you, so messy."

You frown, eyes droopy. "It's your fault," you whine. 

Logan chuckles deeply and removes himself from on top of you, picking you up effortlessly in his arms. "I know, sweet girl, I know. You made your bed, hm?" he whispers and you snuggle instinctively in his arms. You nod. He kisses your forehead again, his body relaxing with yours.

"I'm going to take care of you now, honey—" he promises, "—you're mine. All mine."

[popironrye]

Oh baby, how did I miss this tag? XD Thank you Ria!

I've done a few of these 'fictional crush' showcases before but you want weird, I'll give you weird. 😈

My weirdest childhood crushes

Captain Gantu (Lilo and Stitch)

King Koopa Bowser (The Mario Franchise)

Django of the Dead (El Tigre: The Adventures of Manny Rivera)

Vexus (My Life as a Teenage Robot)

Shirley the Medium (Courage the Cowardly Dog)

Nonhumans can be fun too. You can't judge me, the goal was to use weird ones. XD

@ria-coolgirl @starlahuskyz @mikey-stardust-way @ravens-selfshipthings @n3kk1tty @mizgames

tag game for mutuals!!

Who are some of your “weirdest” childhood crushes?

1. bumblebee (transformers)

2. spencer reid (to this fucking day, I would leave my husband at the alter for him)

3. kankuro (naruto)

4. kenny (southpark, 7 yr old me loved him)

5. todd (kickass)

@mlissyou @thevioletharmon @tachycard @akagirlthatgotaway @greengirllover

tag in your mutuals!

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Eldridge/Tentacle Monster x F!Reader

Words: 2.9k Themes: Nsfw, tentacles, fictional oviposition Notes: Hi all! I'm still very sick, hence why this story is a little shorter than the others. Hopefully it's still a good morsel of ovi themes. I may circle around to it again and adjust it, or write a whole other story based on ovi to make up for the lack of words. Feedback as always is welcome!!

This was definitely the spot from your dream. 

The cave opening matched your memories perfectly. To the circular entrance, draped in vines that dripped with clear water from the waterfall nearby, to the moss that covered every inch of this place. 

The hike had been tortuous, to say the least. But seeing this cave made it all worthwhile. You weren’t going mad, after all. 

You didn’t understand how you knew this was here. Perhaps some past hike through these old woods came to the surface of your subconscious and reminded you of this splendid place.  It was beautiful. How could you have forgotten it? Your steps into the cave felt familiar and comfortable. Your shoes didn’t slip on the uneven path nor did the low hanging ceiling bump against your head as you ventured deeper. 

You could hear the gentle trickling of water somewhere further. A soft echo that seemed to call you forward and away from the light of the beautiful day outside.  You recalled there was more light inside. 

Not that you could remember how there was more light. But the memory of being able to see clearly down here was vivid enough to ease any worries of darkness.  Deeper and deeper you went.  The afterthought of getting lost down here vanished when you found a path, winding down the treacherous tumbling's of rocks and subterranean flora. You found a stream bounding down a slope of dark rocks. Your fingers idly trailed along the smooth cut stone that acted as stairs towards the heart of this cave.  You didn’t slip.  Nor did you feel any nervousness when a sound rose up through the music of running water. A whispering murmur that called to you. 

Almost there. It seemed to say.

A friend. 

Your friend. The one from your dreams that spoke of itself and the sweet home it made for itself down here.  Surrounded by soft moss and cool water. Comforted by the comes and goings of eager hikers that walked these trails. Listening to the world's gossip and excitement while happily residing in the depths of the mountain. Unseen and undisturbed.

But it called to you nonetheless. And you came just as you promised; a friend coming to visit a friend.  The stream brought you to a wide cavern. With a pool in the center and many small plants circling the crystalline water. The lights you were promised dangled from thin, pale vines that spiderwebbed along the sloped ceiling. Giving the wide cave a gentle blue glow as you stepped towards the water. 

You felt parched after such a hike. And the water felt cool against your fingers as you kneeled down beside it and cupped some into your mouth. 

It tasted sweet. Almost like honey. And you sighed as the discomfort of your hike started to ease.  The murmuring echoed through the cave and you sat yourself on a nearby rock. Slipping off your backpack as you looked out over the pool. 

Many eyes watched you, pale and completely pupilless, locked on you from a mound of mossy bark and fern covered limbs. 

It was huge. The presence you have felt for so many nights felt like a crushing weight now as your friend started to move closer. The water barely stirred as thick appendages rose from the calm waters and slithered along the ground towards you. 

You smiled. Reaching for a tentacle as it coiled along your calf and bathed your warm skin with its cool flesh.  You wore shorts today, given the heat of the day, and your friend seemed thrilled with how much skin was currently exposed.  The murmuring turned to whispers. Eager with anticipation. You felt a wordless voice enter your mind as the creature walked out of the pool on thick, muscular legs. They looked like trunks of trees, covered in more of that mossy bark like skin.  You tilted your head up as a tentacle brushed along your chest, circling your neck for but a second before retreating. Wherever your friend touched, a comforting cooling sensation followed. And after your walk up the side of the mountain it was a very welcoming change. 

That presence bloomed in your mind and your smile turned sheepish as a thinner tentacle slipped under your shirt and petted along your bare chest. You felt a curiosity grow through you. Not yours, but theirs. 

You couldn’t hide how warmed the smooth, velvety appendage made you feel. One of the thicker tentacles was resting between your legs. Nestling between your thighs as the others gently greeted and stroked you. 

And the creature breathed an amused sound into the cave as it felt your hips twitch. And you stifled a groan when you felt the muscle tense against you, causing friction. 

Clothes fell to the mossy floor in a messy pile. The tentacles were careful but impatient as they removed each piece of material from your body.  Those many eyes drank in every inch of newly exposed skin and a heated kernal of need rose up within you. 

You gasped as the vision vanished.  A tender tip of the creature’s arms stroked along your cheek, comforting and reassuring. Asking quiet permission as your friend drew back; waiting.  You nodded, smiling.  That’s why you came here after all. Visiting a friend who needed company more intimately than passing gossipers. 

And just like the vision, your clothes fell from your body in fluid, practiced motions. A familiar scene started to open up in front of you as your friend’s arms coiled beneath you and lifted you off the hard stone. They moved you to a more open space in the cave and you were laid down in a nest of soft moss and fern leaves. The glowing vines twisted and knotted between the crags of your bed, illuminating your friend as they settled before you. Their tentacles snaked over the edge of the nest to begin tangling between your limbs. 

The thickest of them all wrapped around your calves and gently spread your legs apart. You moaned as the tip of the appendage curled over your waist and slid between your folds. Clear liquid pooled from the tip and your hips pushed up into the rounded end as they started to fondle you.  How many nights did you and them fool around in your dream? Exactly like this? Pulled to you by their need and your loneliness, your once uneventful nights were soon full of tangled limbs and visions of pleasure. 

You would wake up panting and soaked, both in sweat and with arousal. Lost in the fog of the dream and coming back to reality. 

But here, now with your friend as they loomed over you, your legs spread and pushed up around your head as a tentacle prodded and rimmed your hole, you felt a wave of excitement come over you. 

Tangling with your heated anticipation as the tip against you pushed and your walls gave entry.  It felt like a great relief washed over you as they pushed deeper. The discomfort that has plagued you for days was finally relieved and you went limp against the nest as your body gave an involuntary twitch from the sweetened touch. Your friend must have felt the same because the slow rhythm rubbing along your slit faltered. 

Your mind fogged with a layer of desire and joy as more limbs petted down the back of your thighs and started to grope and fondle you. Twisting and touching along your bare chest as your back arched into the tangle of arms.

You gasped, mouth hanging open as your walls were stretched. Their murmuring was gentle and reassuring. A soothing contrast to the waves upon waves of eager anticipation that radiated from them.  Then the tip pushed deeper and you felt your walls welcome them. And you accepted the intrusion with a heavy moan.

They shivered above you. You felt the heat of your body burn against their cool skin and they enjoyed it. Loved how your hole so eagerly spread for them and how deep they started to go. 

Inch by careful inch, your friend filled you until your eyes squeezed shut and an uncomfortable tension pushed at your stomach. They halted, and a tender touch brushed along your cheek again; reassuring and comforting. 

They didn’t mean to push so hard. But your body felt so good, so soft and warm that they wanted to stay there forever. 

You relaxed after the thick limb began to pull out. But it was so slow it was torture, your moan lowered into a whine. 

They stalled. Those many eyes  watching you as you reached down and ran your fingers along their tentacles. Giving attention to the entanglement of limbs that snaked and petted along your waist and chest. You were almost entirely swallowed by them that you could barely move without them allowing you too. 

You felt small bumps and ridges slide along your palm. Your fingers were left slimy with the substance that oozed from the tip of their appendages.

Curiously, you brought your fingers to your mouth and gave them a small lick.  Just like the pool, the liquid was cool and sweet on your tongue. Like honey. Your friend purred as you stuck two fingers between your lips. And before you could react, a small tentacle wrapped around your wrist and tugged your hand away. 

Your lips were immediately filled with another thick tendril and you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. 

Your eyes bulged and you gagged as a small drop of the liquid slid down your throat.  A worrying whisper tickled your mind. A question, as the limb between your lips started to retreat. You hummed and relaxed your mouth, giving silent permission to continue.

Pleased, your friend pushed further and your eyes watered at the intrusion. But you licked at the velvety underside of the limb. Moaning softly as you tasted that sweet nectar which began to trickle into your mouth.  Your friend then started to continue to pull out of you. You whined again but they slowly slid from your hole, leaving only the tip, before slamming back into you with enough force that your body rocked and your eyes widened in surprise.  Whatever noise of complaint you tried to voice died very quickly as a pace was established. Rough and fast, feverish almost, as your friend purred above you. Your hips were lifted off the ground, angled in a way that folded you in half and your legs were spread wide and near your shoulders. 

Your chest was rubbed and squeezed, your peaked nipples teased by pillowy suction cups on the smallest limbs. Liquid pooling from the coils wrapped around you to ensure there was no restriction to the way they moved. 

Your lips were assaulted by the tentacle in your mouth, which coiled and rubbed along your tongue like a cold version of your own. Your friend shifted closer. Entirely enveloping you with their tentacles as they pulled you against their body. 

You felt yourself being lifted and pressed against their underside as if they wanted to feel you squirm and writhed against them. 

Your eyes closed as you lost yourself to the blinding pleasure. Your walls were stretched and you felt them knock against the deepest part of you, your womb near buckling under the onslaught of thrusts.

The whispering voice transformed into a whining growl that grated your ears. Somehow you knew the harsh sound was your friend’s moaning as they sprawled themselves over the nest. Crushing you against the soft floor as their body started to rut and flood your exposed body with that sweet cooling liquid.  You could feel your climax coming forth. Fighting the cool touch of your friend was a racing wildfire beneath your skin, ready to burst when their tip found something sensitive within you. A bundle of nerves that had you thrashing against your cocoon of petting limbs. 

Your friend cooed softly and your body was suddenly made empty as the tentacle slid out of you.  You cried out. Your frustration was muffled by the thick tongue like limb that you were currently sucking on. 

Amusement flooded your thoughts. And a feeling of patience trickled into your hazy mind.  You pushed against it, harshly sucking on the tentacle in your mouth as if you could coax your friend to reconsider. 

But instead of filling you again, your friend moved so all you could see was their underside. The wrappings of muscled limbs left you. You gasped and licked your lips as the tongue left you as well. 

Above you, your friend’s underside was like a shelled belly. Beautiful with intricate brown lines and plates of green; you would have admired them more if your body wasn’t currently screaming at the lack of touch and stimulation.  Your friend twitched above you and from a slit between the two back legs, something pushed between the thick shell like plating.  As red as candy and thicker than any of the limbs that had previously been buried inside you, your friend’s cock left its protective sheath and started to lower towards your spread thighs. 

The head of the length was flared and rounded nubs circled the wide tip. You licked your lips again. Your body clenching in anticipation and worry as the girth tilted, as if flexible like the tentacles before, and brushed over your sensitive clit. 

You groaned and spread yourself wider. Even going as far as sliding your hands down to your hole and moving your folds so their cock didn’t tug on anything. 

Appreciation melted into your mind and you relaxed against the nest as your friend’s hips dipped lower and the flared head disappeared between your thighs.  You felt the cool soft tip press against your entrance and you tried hard not to tense as they started to push into you. 

You gasped as your walls were stretched to their limit. Comforting murmurs filled your mind as you squeezed your eyes shut against the discomfort. 

But that’s all there was. No pain, just a slight discomfort as your body adjusted to this new girth.  You clung to the body that was inches above you. Holding onto your friend as they tenderly thrusted into you. 

Their clawed hands tore into the nest as they forced themselves to go slow. The images of their cock ravaging you, filling you with every inch of them to claim you; fluttered through your mind before they were snatched away by their self-control. 

Finally, you felt the flared head reach your womb and you were sure you felt the rounded nubs move and press against your walls. Like they were making a barrier against your cervix. 

They then started to move. Your back immediately arched as pleasure burst through your center. You cried out, gasping as your body was rocked again and again by your friend’s eager rutting. They could barely move inside you. The locked position of the flared head felt like a knot deep inside you, keeping you both firmly together. 

But still your friend desperately chased the pleasure they had to previously pause to properly enter you. 

And just as you started to adjust to the heavy sensation in your stomach, your friend shivered above you and the base of their cock bulged as something slid down the long length. 

You gasped, watching the egg roll down the thick length and your walls squeezed tightly around the new intrusion. Your friend thrusted harder than before. Pushing the rounded shaft deeper, forcing your walls to spread around it.

Your head rolled back as it popped inside and you groaned disgustingly loud as it settled deep within you. A heavy, warm bubble of liquid that rounded your stomach and jostled with every thrust from your friend. 

They growled above you as another egg left them and you grabbed the trunk like leg to brace yourself as the bulging intrusion rested against the first.  You reached down and started to rub your untouched clit. Sliding your fingers between your folds, wetting them on the cool liquid that your friend poured from their cock. You felt the hard lump where a third egg was currently flush against your body, begging entrance as your friend purred above you. You circled your clit, rolling your hips in time with your friend’s thrust until pleasure exploded forth. Your climax was what they needed to get the third egg into you. Your spasming walls and jerking hips gave them enough leverage to slide their third egg into your waiting pussy.

The purring increased until it was all you heard. Their cock twitched and you felt some sort of thicker liquid pool from between your legs. 

In your blind chase for pleasure, you didn’t realize the stimulation you were giving your friend. And your fall into bliss dragged them down with you, spilling their pleasure into your swollen hole. 

They didn’t move from their position above you. Still locked together, your friend murmured sweet whispers into your mind as you both caught your breath. 

White hot bliss sparked from your body with every lazy roll of their hips.  You couldn’t recall how much time you laid there beneath them. Writhing and moaning, lost in an overstimulated fog of pleasure and bliss.  Sometime during this hazy moment, your friend finally pulled out of you. You barely felt the shift between your legs, still snugly swollen with eggs.

You fell asleep not long after that. Finally coaxed into rest by your friend’s nuzzling touches. Their limbs massaged along your arms and stomach, as if soothing you into finally sleeping. 

[beargyu313]

Teach me all about your love language

It was supposed to be a chill night with friends and rosé, not you practically crying and begging Soobin to eat you out like he means it

Oops.

Tags: pussy eating, begging, desperation, cheating, forbidden romance, pussy drunk Soobin, hair pulling, some spanking,,, that’s it really

CW: the ending is kinda angsty :O

WC: 4.1k

A/N: Back with another TXT fic :),, this fic was inspired by my munch urges:( (hence all the begging hehe), hope everyone likes it<3

MDNI as always, this is a fictional work that is not representative of anyone mentioned in the story.

You don't know why you came to this hang out really. Soohyun said it would only be you and your other friend Karina. But of course she had to bring her boyfriend – Beomgyu. And since he was here Soohyun also decided to invite Kai, who she swears she isn’t crushing on, but you don’t believe her. And now you’re in your current predicament, fifth wheeling (?) and sitting on Soohyun’s couch in a dress that’s way too short and way too sexy to not even go out in. I mean really, if they wanted to go on a double date they should’ve just said so. But no, now you’re wasting a very sexy outfit by switching through the TV channels.

It's just past 9 p.m. and somehow you guys are already halfway through your second bottle of Rosé. The front door creaks open, and you barely look up, expecting maybe another friend of Beomgyu's or someone Soohyun forgot to mention. Instead, it’s him.

Soobin.

Your best friend's older brother, who hasn’t been around in months thanks to his new girlfriend who insists on spending every single minute with him. Disheveled hair, hoodie sleeves pushed up, car keys still in hand. He pauses in the doorway like he wasn’t expecting a full house. His eyes skim over the room, landing briefly on Beomgyu and Kai. His jaw ticks. And then

He sees you.

For a beat, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just looks. His gaze drops slowly and you can almost feel his touch on your exposed legs. Flustered, you slightly adjust yourself, crossing your legs over. You suddenly forget how to hold the remote. Or breathe.

“Didn’t know we were hosting tonight,” he says, voice low and dry. He glances at Soohyun, but his eyes flick back to you for a split second longer than they should.

Soohyun rolls her eyes from across the room. “It’s chill. Just a couple people.”

Soobin hums, noncommittal. Soobin hums, noncommittal. Then walks off toward the kitchen, tossing his keys onto the counter with a metallic clatter that makes Soohyun flinch.

She leans toward you a second later. “Ugh, he’s gonna say something. Come with me? Just in case he tries to act like Dad.”

You follow her, still gripping your cup, definitely not because you’re curious to see Soobin up close or whatever.

He doesn’t look up when you both step in. Just opens the fridge, grabs a water bottle, and unscrews the cap with one hand like he's annoyed it even exists.

“You know,” he says without looking at her, “I didn’t think you were the type to invite over a bunch of drunk guys while Mom and Dad are gone.”

Soohyun scoffs immediately. “Relax. Beomgyu’s with Karina, and Kai's the shyest person on earth. You act like I invited the whole frat house.”

Soobin finally turns to face her, but his eyes flick to you. And this time, he lets them stay for a second too long.

He tilts his head slightly, still speaking to Soohyun, but his gaze is on you when he says, “Still, you know how guys are. Anything could happen.”

“Soobin, chill,” you say, voice lighter than you feel. “Besides, I don’t think anything stupid's gonna happen.”

Soobin finally looks away, smiling faintly like he knows you’re lying.

“Sure,” he says. “If you say so.” And with that he leaves you guys, going upstairs. You swallow down the urge to follow him up. Seeing him and speaking to him after having not seen him for months, has made you realize just how much you missed him. It's not like you have a crush or anything, but the tension between you two always seems to build whenever you're left alone. Which isn't often and is even less often now that he has a girlfriend.

It's probably for the best that you haven't seen him, you should avoid him really, lest you embarrass yourself. And with that thought you pour yourself another glass of rosé, and begrudgingly return to the living room.

You do your best to shake it off, his voice, that look. But it lingers in your head like the rosé warming your throat. You try not to read into it. Like you always do. Always think he means something more when he talks to you like that, stares at you like that. You wish it didn’t make your heart race.

Back in the living room, Soohyun’s laughing too loud at something Beomgyu said, Karina’s half-asleep on the carpet, and you’re once again stuck hugging your drink like a lifeline. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, legs tucked under you, pretending not to check the hallway every few minutes.

And then you hear them. Footsteps.

Soobin’s coming back downstairs, his hair damp now, like he just stepped out of a quick shower. He’s in a black hoodie and gray sweats. Looking casual yet it doesn’t stop you from clenching your thighs together. You look up right as he passes the living room entrance and that’s when it happens.

His eyes catch yours. Linger.

It’s subtle, almost nothing. But he rakes his gaze over you slowly, like he’s cataloging everything you’re wearing. Bare legs, glossed lips, the way your top hugs your chest when you shift to sit up straighter. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod. Just looks. And keeps walking toward the kitchen again.

You hesitate. But your legs move before you can stop them.

You follow him into the kitchen, again.

When you step into the kitchen, he’s got the fridge open, looking like he’s deciding on another soda. He glances over his shoulder at you without turning fully around. “You run out of wine already?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

His eyes flick down to your legs again, then back to your face. You lean against the counter across from him, sip slowly from your cup, and cock your head.

“Your girlfriend must be blind if she let you walk around like that.” For a moment, silence. No smile. No teasing comeback. Just his eyes on you.

“You think she’d care,” he says, low and even, “if I let you look instead?”

You think your brain shortcuts in that moment, and now all you can hear is the if I let you look instead? looping in your skull. You laugh but it comes out too soft, too breathy.

“I didn’t say I was looking,” you say, voice almost convincing. Soobin raises an eyebrow, then shuts the fridge. “Right. Just happened to follow me in here. Twice.”

You open your mouth. Close it again. God, he’s annoying. And right.

He leans back against the counter now, beer bottle dangling loosely from his hand. There’s something unreadable in his expression, like he’s sizing you up. Not in a gross way. In a curious way. Like he’s finally trying to figure out if you’re really as innocent as you pretend to be.

Or if he’s safe to keep playing with fire. If his sister potentially finding out is worth having this moment with you.

“I thought you weren’t staying here anymore,” you say after a second, desperate to shift the energy even a little. “Soohyun said you practically live at your girlfriend’s place now.”

His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. “Yeah, well.”

You raise your brows, waiting. He shrugs. “She’s been... weird lately.” That’s all he gives you. No dramatic explanation. Just a tired, half-hearted answer, like he doesn’t really want to talk about it but doesn’t want to lie either.

“So... you’re fighting?”

He snorts, then drinks. “We’re always fighting.”

Your stomach flips at that. You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t care. But it suddenly feels like a door cracked open, even just a little. And Soobin seems to note the subtle shift in you demeanor.

He glances at you again. “Why? You worried I’m off-limits?”

You take a sip, eyes locked with his over the rim of your glass. “You were never on limits.”

Soobin smiles really smiles this time and it’s so devastatingly smug you want to smack it off his face. Or kiss it.

“You’re cute when you lie,” he says quietly. “Terrible at it. But cute.”

He steps closer. Not much, but it’s close enough that you can smell the soft scent of his shampoo, boyish but with undertones of something more, something that makes you dizzy.

You don’t move.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, eyes dropping to his mouth.

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Like what?”

You glance back up, all wide-eyed and flushed and still pretending to play it cool. “Like you know what I’m thinking.”

“I do.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but he tilts his head slightly, and that shuts you up real fast. Soobin’s voice lowers. “You’ve been looking at me all night.”

You swallow. He can see you trying not to react. “That’s not true.”

Soobin always thought you’ve always been cute when you lie. But this? The way you’re looking at him now, like you don’t want him to notice the way your thighs press together when he leans in, like your pulse isn’t visible in your neck, this is something else entirely. He’s never seen you quite this wanting and needy before, and it’s beyond exhilarating. Addicting even.

You’re flustered, and Soobin likes that. He likes the soft bite of your lip, the nervous way you tuck your hair behind your ear like you’re not trying to draw attention to yourself. Like he hasn’t been looking at your legs since the moment he walked in.

You try to speak, say something but he doesn’t even register what. It’s background noise to how hot you look, pressed up against the counter in that skirt, pretending like you’re not dying for him to touch you.

“Right. Just coincidence that every time I turn around, you’re staring at my mouth?”

You blink, caught.

God, you’re so easy to read. It’s cute, really. Dangerous. But cute. And he should walk away. He knows he should. You’re his sister’s friend. He has a girlfriend. But none of that really feels important when you’re right in front of him like this, pupils blown wide, breathing like you’ve just run a mile, practically trembling in that tiny little outfit like you want him to wreck you right here.

He watches you for a moment longer. Lets the silence stretch just enough to make you nervous. Then he leans close enough that you can feel his breath. He still hasn’t even touched you and that makes you on edge, anticipating his touch. You struggle to even your breath, but you know he notices the way your eyes can’t meet his intense gaze.

“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” he says, voice soft, confessional. “Always some excuse. Too tired. Not in the mood.” Your eyes flick up, searching his face.

“And I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want it,” he goes on. “How badly I want to taste someone again. Someone cute, someone who needs guidance, needs it just as badly as I do.”

You gasp involuntary, and it shoots straight through him.

He continues, slight smirk on his face as he leans in, lips almost touching, “I could eat it for hours,” he murmurs. “If you asked me to, it’s not cheating,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “Not if I don’t fuck you.”

He watches your lips part, the hesitation flickering behind your eyes like a dying match. You want to say something. Maybe a protest. Maybe a plea.

“All focus would be on you,” he says, voice dipped in honey and sin. “Your pleasure. That’s all this would be. Just me helping you scratch that itch you can’t quite reach.” His gaze drops, slow and deliberate. “I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already trembling.”

A beat passes. Then another. Your breath shudders in your chest.

“It’s cute, actually,” he adds, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Really makes me wanna help you feel good. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

Your brain is fogged, every thought slipping through your fingers like smoke. You look up at him, helpless. Instinct takes over before sense can catch up. And Soobin smiles. Soft, knowing, cruel. He can see what you're fighting. The need in your eyes, the slight part of your lips. He wonders how you’ll look when that control finally breaks, flushed, eyes glassy, mouth slack.

You speak, finally, but even your voice betrays you. “We shouldn’t do this, Soobin,” you whisper. “Soohyun’s gonna kill me. And your girlfriend— I really should leave.”

You try to step away, but he doesn’t budge. His tall frame shadows yours, blocking the exit like a decision you don’t want to make.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he murmurs. “You’re just letting me help you feel good.”

Then he leans in, fingers brushing against your hip, just enough pressure to make your skin twitch under his touch. Just enough to remind you how close he is. How much closer he could be.

“You want me to show you?” he says, voice a whisper against your ear. “What it feels like… when someone actually gives a fuck about your pleasure?”

You nod. Soobin pulls back, looking down at you as if trying to intimidate you.

“Use your words, baby.”

You swallow hard. “Yes.”

His brow lifts, unimpressed. “I think you can do better than that.”

Your stomach flips. His voice is calm, soft and annoyingly patient. A small part of you feels humiliated, begging your best friend’s brother to fuck you. But you stifle that feeling.

Your lips are in a subconscious pout as you look up at him, chest heaving and back arching, “Soobin, please,” you say, “I promise I’ll be good, just please-“

He steps back, his gaze unreadable. You actually whine.

“Come on.” His voice is quieter now, low and direct. “My room.”

You follow. You don’t even hesitate. Every step feels like your skin is buzzing, and when he opens the door and lets you in first, you nearly trip over yourself trying to get inside.

It’s what you expected his room to look like. Neat and minimal. No lights on except the glow from the hallway spilling in.

He closes the door behind you, slow and quiet, like he’s sealing something in.

“You always listen this well?” he asks, voice smooth and low.

You manage a shaky breath. “Only when it's you.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s nothing kind about it, you almost feel like he’s mocking you.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he says, stepping closer. “But I guess I’ve got you figured out now, huh?”

You stare up at him, throat dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He tilts his head, eyes raking over you, voice dropping. “No? Then why do you look like you’re about to fall apart, and I haven’t even laid a hand on you yet?”

Then he does, his big hands softly cupping your waist, bringing you close to him. Your legs wobble. He kisses you softly, you quietly moan into the kiss already wanting more. Your hands tangle in his hair, chest touching his. His hands travel over the curve of your ass, reaching the short hem of your skirt. You gasp when his nails rake over the plush skin, bunching the skirt around your waist.

Soobin lands a firm slap to your buttcheck and the sting makes you ache even more. You gasp, basking in the sensation.

You’ve never felt this needy, this horny from a single kiss. You feel tears prick at your eyes, the ache in your core becoming too much. You try to subtly rub your legs together, trying to find a way to relieve this pressure.

And Soobin must notice, because he finally, finally reaches out exactly where you need him. His hands are grasping your ass, slowly inching together and pulling the flesh. First stretching the skin and then pushing your ass checks together. The sensation feels amazing on your cunt, the slight pressure and dirtiness of it making you whine.

You push your ass out, further pushing yourself into Soobin’s big hands.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Just like that.”

Soobin kisses you slowly, almost indulgently, as if savoring the tension more than your lips. His hands skim over your waist, your hips, down to your thighs.

“Lay down Babygirl,” he tells you and you listen. You lay back against his pillow, skirt bunched up around your waist, and while he settles himself between your legs. You watch him, watch you when he reaches towards the pillow you’re laying your head on.

You lift your head up, allowing him to take it from you.

“Lift your hips,” he says and you oblige. Soobin puts the pillow underneath your hips and then he’s back to laying down between your hips.

“You look so pretty like this,” he tells you, voice deep and eyes dark, piercing. His hands caress your inner thighs. The light touch makes goosebumps rise on your skin and you shudder when he gently with barely any pressure brushes over your clothed lips.

"You're soaked through," he murmurs, voice low. With his middle finger he starts applying more pressure on your pussy, moving it over your clit with an unhurried pace.

“I can already tell you’re gonna taste so good, you smell so good,” he says, nuzzling his nose into your wanting sex. Your breath shudders out, “Soobin…”

“Soobine,” you whine, your hand reaches for his soft locks gently tugging, “stop being a tease,” you gasp.

He lifts himself up just enough so he can pull off your lacy panties. He sharply inhales when he takes them off, eyes fixed on your glistening pussy. You don’t notice him putting them in his front pocket.

You’re both breathing heavily and the dark and hungry look in his eyes doesn’t escape. Instead you try your best to memorize it for later.

He leans down to your inner thigh, lips grazing higher this time. Then his teeth catch the tender flesh of your inner thigh and he suckles in. Right below where you actually need him.

“Please,” you gasp, your voice cracking embarrassingly. But you’re too far gone to care.

“If I start, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking,” he says, voice heavy and lower than you’re used to hearing.

“Please, Soobin, please I don’t care—”

He hums against your skin. “God, you’re needy, aren’t you?” He kisses closer, closer. “Begging me like this… and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, I think I like like listening to you whine too much to give you what you want,” he teases, fingers exploring your pretty pussy, noting how the slightest pressure makes you hump into his fingers that are drawing circles onto your labia. He prods around your entrance and you can feel the wetness trickling down his fingers.

“Pleasepleaseplease-“ you beg, before he finally, finally tastes you. He starts off infuriatingly slow, flat tongue experimentally licking a couple of short licks.

You moan into his touch, arching your back into the pillow sitting under your ass. Soobin wraps his arms around you from underneath your thighs pressing his face onto your gushy pussy.

“You look so pretty like this, falling apart for me.”

Once used to the feeling of his flat tongue going over your clit he lightly sucks, groaning when you rub yourself against him. He pauses to kiss my thigh, adjusting it over his shoulder before his lips are back on me.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he says and the admission flusters you, you never could of imagined your fantasies actually materializing. You moan out loud when he sucks on your clit, tongue latching onto you. His middle finger is applying pressure around your hole, not sliding it in but rubbing all around it.

You try to stop the loud noises coming out, your hand on your mouth. Soobin  notices, “It’s okay, be loud. I want to hear everything.”

You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, “what about the others-“ you start, but the thought dies on your tongue when he flattens his tongue just right and you cry out, hands flying to his hair. “S-Soobin—oh my god—”

He can tell you’re getting close, flicking his tongue over your clit whilst slightly suckling on your clit. The feeling mixed with him pushing two fingers just past your entrance, one knuckle deep is enough to bring you closer to climax.

You practically hump his mouth, pushing his fingers in and out of you just he way you like it.

You gasp out before holding your breath in, “that’s my good girl,” Soobin mumbles pushing his two fingers fully into you. He hooks them, feeling around your velvety walls when you cum. Your walls pulsating against his fingers and you can feel him moan. He licks you clean, letting you come down.

You feel like your pussy is actually buzzing and pulsating and when you look down and see Soobin looking up between your legs you feel close again.

You whine, dropping back on bed when Soobin sharply sucks on you again, fingers moving in and out of you at a fast pace.

“C’mon sweetie, I know you can give me another,” he says, experimentally sucking on your clit in short, sharp intervals. The pleasure is so intense you feel tears building up in your eyes.

Soobin notices the glassy look in your eyes, and you feel him smirk against you. “Cry all you want. I’m not stopping till your thighs are shaking.”

And he keeps to that promise, ravaging you like a starved man until you’re gasping, pleading for mercy.

““I—I don’t know, I can’t think—just don’t stop, please…” You don’t even process what you’re saying when you feel your second orgasm building.

“Fuck, don’t stop Soobie, oh my god,” you moan through tears.

Your whole body stills, the intensity of the orgasm rendering you frozen. You don’t even realize your leg locked Soobin into you and he doesn’t seem to mind either. Patiently waiting for you to come down.

The room is quiet except for your breathing. Harsh, ragged, uneven. You’re still shaking slightly when he finally pulls away, resting his forehead lightly against your thigh before sitting back.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment. You keep staring at the ceiling, blinking away the tears still clinging to your lashes.

Then, quietly, “You okay?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “I think so.”

He brushes your calf with the back of his hand, gentle. “You were perfect.” You don’t say anything.

Soobin stands and disappears for a second. He comes back with a warm towel and helps clean you up, careful and wordless, as if to fill the silence with kindness instead of apologies.

Once he’s done, he lays beside you, careful not to touch you. He’s just… there, it’s starting to get awkward, so you force yourself to speak.

“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” you say, your voice nearly gone.

“I know.”

“But I wanted it.”

“I know,” he repeats, softer now. “Me too.”

You finally glance over. His eyes are on the ceiling, jaw tight like he’s holding back more than he’s saying. “I’m not gonna pretend this doesn’t make things messy,” you whisper.

He turns to face you now, leaning on one arm. “Messy’s better than pretending I don’t want you.”

You bite your lip, look away. “She’s going to hate me.”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not. But you’re worth it.”

Your breath catches. You want to believe him. But guilt creeps up your throat like bile, “I feel like a bad person,” you admit.

Soobin shifts closer now, just enough for his hand to brush yours. “You’re not. You’re not bad. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever touched, ever tasted.”

You shut your eyes. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll believe them.”

He’s silent for a beat. Then quietly, honestly he says, “then believe them. Because they’re true.”

You exhale shakily, caught between wanting to stay and knowing you probably shouldn’t.

“I should go,” you whisper.

Soobin doesn’t try to stop you. But when you sit up, he gently pulls your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss into your wrist.

“I’ll still think about this,” he murmurs. “About you.”

And as you slip quietly out of his room heart racing, stomach twisted, you already know you’ll be thinking about him too.

[bratbarzal]

The Secret of Us (LH43) 3/3

aka the sequel to let it happen

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

>PART ONE< / >PART TWO<

the pain of, the reign of, the flame of us

WC: 31k (I need therapy atp)

General Warnings: angst!!! did we expect any less for the final instalment of the epic highs and lows of this criminal situationship? (god bless the anon who sent me that line I think of it daily) cursing probably, inaccurate timeline of events regarding hockey and all but it's fiction just play along lmao, mentions of jack's injury, meddling friends, miscommunication final boss, hypocrisy final boss, jealousy and avoidance final boss and an ending 🙂

A/N: guys I wish I could put into words just how much joy writing this fic has given me, I have so much love and gratitude for the way you all responded to it. writing fic can sometimes be such a lonely and stressful experience in a weird way, especially something as long as this, and you guys turned it into this giant team effort and I felt like you were pushing me along the whole way!! this is such a corny a/n but I really love you all so much - thank you for being so kind to me, thank you for discussing every single element of this fic with me, thank you for loving (or hating lmao) the characters, and making them real enough in my head that they just flew onto the page. thank you to everyone who recommended this fic to anybody else, or who loved it so much that they went through everything else I've written and liked that too!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! I hope this final part is loved as much as the rest, and I can't wait to talk to you guys about it!! my ask is always open for lih/tsou discourse!! these two will live with me for the rest of time lmao but I do now feel the need to run and hide because I'm terrified to post this actually so hope you like it lol

You can’t remember the last time you ever felt so lost in your life.

You’ve always been someone that finds your way - lands on your feet, figures things out - because you’ve had no other choice, before. Forced to be independent before you ever needed to be, you can usually work your way out of sticky situations with minimal scarring.

But Luke Hughes has somehow managed to crush you beyond recognition.

You thought things were finally going well, you were taking this monumental leap into something more, kissing him like you’ve been denying yourself for too long, and then all of a sudden you’re struggling to get your words out, letting him assume the worst of you and running with it, because what other option do you have now, knowing that he doesn’t want you back?

You’re a little caught of guard at the initial rejection, but the words that follow make you speechless, entirely, gaping open-mouthed like some dumb-struck idiot as he tells you that he’s moving on, and you only want him because you don’t want to lose him.

And you’re so consumed by this wave of renunciation that you can’t even fight him on it.

And then he’s gone.

The silence that follows Luke’s departure from the porch almost makes your ears pop - pressure building and building to the point of eruption inside your head, and you’re so caught up in your mind that you’re barely functioning otherwise.

It’s below freezing out, a cold wind whipping at your cheeks, and every breath you take feels rough and textured like you’re rubbing coarse sandpaper at your chest cavity - you really shouldn’t be out here, exposed to such harsh conditions, but what does that matter when you would be hurting anyway, no matter where you are.

You don’t even know how you got here.

One second you were running through the house with the best news of your life and only one person in mind to share it with, and the next you were out in the cold - key moments from the night playing in your head like some horror movie sequence. 

Ellie’s warning of, he’s gonna crush you when he starts seeing someone and you get left behind.

The way she’s been keeping it to herself that he already is seeing someone, or speaking to her, at least, whatever that entails - because, the two of you speak. You speak every day. 

Seeing Victoria with her hands on Luke, sinking her claws into him while he gave her one of those cute, toothy grins - the kind that made his eyes gleam and crinkle in the corners. 

And then, I don’t want to be with anybody but you tonight, I promise.

How can anybody possibly hear that and not want to kiss him?

Sure, it was some weird, territorial spur of jealousy that consumed you and forced you to take that final leap, but it’s not like you haven’t thought about doing it before. Sat on your bed watching Wall-E on your birthday, the plush he had bought you tucked into the crook of your elbow and your hand brushing repeatedly against his in the bowl of popcorn. Or when he’d snuck out of your house the morning after, only just managing to evade being caught by your sorority regime and holding you against him with a kiss to the side of your head as the two of you said your goodbyes on the porch.

Does it really matter what the final catalyst was if the finished result was what you’ve both been wanting this entire time? Plus, it’s not like he hasn’t encouraged those feelings before - Mr Tell me that the thought of me even talking to another girl makes your skin crawl.

But that’s the problem. You’re probably too used to acting impulsively with Luke - doing first, thinking later -  and he’s starting to realise it, too, growing tired of your stretched out resistance and finally throwing in the towel.

We both have to find a way to move on.

Maybe it’s not what you’ve both wanted the entire time.

Maybe Luke hasn’t wanted it for a while - has wanted to move on and find someone new. See someone else - speak to her, or whatever.

God, you feel pathetic. 

A feeling that worsens when Ethan finds you, teary eyed and shaking - too consumed by your own humiliation to feel just how cold it is outside until he shrugs a jacket over you, holds it closed in front of your torso and peers down at you with nothing but concern in his chocolate eyes.

His mouth moves, but all you hear is muffled noise alongside the sound of your racing heartbeat, and you try to read his lips, but it’s hard to see through the blur of tears. His hands start rubbing at your arms, and the friction brings everything back into focus, a little. The cold night air, the cologne rubbed into the collar of the jacket, the voice of the caring boy in front of you.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” he mutters, “Let’s get you home.”

You nod wordlessly as you accept his help, a guiding arm around you that ushers you off the porch, helps you down the steps and pushes you gently to the edge of the yard until you’re walking side by side down the street. You sniffle, not even realising that you’re crying until you try to remedy the dryness in the corner of your lips and taste the salty tears that have fallen there, and you end up crying the whole walk, trying not to be obvious about it - arms wrapped around yourself and head dipped to watch your feet as they move along the sidewalk.

Ethan doesn’t try to talk it out of you, for once, which you’re grateful for, and he walks you all the way up to the front door, turning away without any prompt so you can fetch the key you hid under one of the plants before you left

“Thanks,” you mutter, once you’ve retrieved it, standing back up and watching as he spins back around. “For walking me back, sorry that I got upset and weird.”

“It’s alright,” he shrugs, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans to maintain some semblance of blood flow, the below freezing temperatures making it almost painful to breathe. “Lot of tears for a guy you’re not into, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, because what’s the use in denying it anymore. It hasn’t done you any favours this far. You fumble your key into the lock and shoulder the door open, leading him into the house with a silent invitation, thankful that he follows without any hesitation and seals the heat back in behind him. “Can I ask you something?”

“As long as it’s quick, I got a beer pong championship I need to retain, I’m on for a three-peat, kids in this town will be talking about it for years.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to hold you back from greatness,” you scoff, offering a lighthearted chuckle as you shrug off the jacket he had slung over your shoulders before. Luke’s jacket, you’re pretty sure, that in any other circumstances, you’d keep, but the smell of him is probably going to suffocate you if you inhale it any longer. You hold it out to Ethan, quirking a brow when he frowns down at the garment. “You’re off the hook, it was stupid anyway.”

“No, come on,” he prompts, “I was kidding.”

He blinks slowly at you, dark eyes warm and encouraging as he steps a little further into the foyer, leaning against one of the pillars by the door. He’s settled in, and he’s giving the kind of energy that it’s hard not to reciprocate - open and receptive to whatever it is that you want to talk about. 

“Do you guys talk about, like, girls and stuff?” You ask, brows creasing almost immediately at how dumb it sounds to even bring it up. God, you’re starting to hate what he’s turning you into. “I mean, like, if he was into somebody, would he tell you?”

His eyes go darker, somehow, amusement flashing through them as his lips quirk, and he can try all he wants, but it’s so obvious he’s biting back a smile. “He doesn’t have the track record for it since he moved away, no, but Luke’s a pretty private guy. Even when he was here, he was never really big on talking about that kind of stuff.”

“Oh.” You sigh, because great, you’ve just made an idiot out of yourself for no good reason - to Ethan, of all people, who’s been trying to eke information out of you all year. 

“Awful poker face, though,” he adds, “Like anybody could see from a mile off that he is into somebody.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better. If he isn’t talking to the boys about any girl he potentially is interested in, why would he tell you? Maybe you had been wrong, when Ellie brought up him speaking to somebody back in Jersey, maybe he wouldn’t have told you. Maybe he’s a pretty private guy, like Ethan said, and that privacy extends to you in the same way it does to the guys - where Luke keeps his cards close to his chest, just like he had back in summer, when the two of you were a thing. 

“Ellie told me that he was,” you lament, leaning on the pillar closest to Ethan’s, crossing your arms over your chest, “I didn’t believe her, I thought he’d tell me, but now I don’t know.”

“Is that what you’re upset about?” Ethan’s eyes narrow, “That he didn’t tell you?”

“I guess maybe he did,” You sigh, replaying his words over and over in your head. We both have to find a way to move on. I don’t know how long I’m supposed to wait for you to figure it out. It hadn’t been explicit, but the sentiment was there - like he was laying the foundations of something he’d be more ready to build onto at a later date.

Maybe this thing with Yasmin is early days, still. Maybe you put him so far off the idea of letting anyone else in on what could be a good thing - through fear of it all coming crumbling down, just like his relationship with you had done - that he won’t tell anybody until he knows for sure.

“I feel like an idiot.”

The idea of him letting go of his feelings just as you started to come to terms with your own hurts, but you can hardly be mad at him. He had been right - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that you weren’t willing to take things further again, and even though that was almost 6 months ago, now, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve withheld your feelings, since. You don’t even remember what you were trying to protect yourself from, because it can’t have been as bad as this.

“Maybe you should talk to him before he leaves again, tomorrow,” Ethan suggests, “I can try talk some sense into him if you want?”

“You’re good,” you decline, figuring you’ve done enough invading his privacy for the time being. You need to let him figure things out on his own, you think, instead of acting out of impulse and making everything explode in your face. “I’ll call him in the morning, thanks though.”

Ethan straightens up as he starts to get ready to leave, but just before you can say goodbye, he turns at the door. “He really cares about you, you know.” He tells you, “In case he didn’t tell you that, either. He can be an idiot, but he cares.”

“I know,” you breathe, smiling softly to try and reassure him - because if you do know one thing about Luke in this whole fiasco, it’s that he cares. Whether it’s too much, or not enough, you’re not sure, but it’s there, nonetheless. 

You thank him again, because you really are grateful that he walked you back, and that he was so willing to lend an ear to your stupid questions without making you feel entirely stupid for them, and grins back, boyish and sweet, before he leaves. 

The house is unsettlingly quiet - the rest of the girls either in bed or at the party - and you just want to go to bed, yourself to shut out the unbearable silence, but your room doesn’t provide the kind of escape you thought it might.

One of Luke’s sweatshirts is slung over the back of your desk chair, and even without it being there, you think you’d see him in every corner. He’s in your reflection in the bathroom, brushing his teeth by your side and nudging you out the way to spit the residue into the sink. He’s poking and prodding at your skincare on your vanity, reading the bottles and asking what they do. He’s sat at your desk, looking at your little calendar and telling you that you really need to take a break for yourself when he realises just how many spaces are filled in. And he’s in your bed, his scent in the sheets you’re yet to wash since he slept in here on your birthday - and even that isn’t giving you reprieve like it had the night before.

You can’t get to sleep at all.

And it’s probably morbid curiosity that will be the end of you, because as you lay in your bed, tossing and turning and trying to drown out your thoughts so that you can finally drift off - there’s some stupid, sabotaging part of you that thinks it’s a good idea to open up instagram. And then it seems reasonable to check Luke’s profile, knowing that he hardly ever posts, but heading straight to the accounts that he’s following.

You type her name before you can convince yourself how bad the idea is, watching as the results narrow down to just one with only a few letters, and you click straight through to the profile that remains.

It’s unassuming, initially. Her name is Yasmin Keating. Her bio suggests she’s a student, her location says North Carolina, and most of her feed is dedicated to her time spent decked in blue and white playing basketball at UNC. And she’s gorgeous. She’s athletic, and would probably understand all of his weird sports references more than you do, would probably understand his lifestyle, and the stress he’s under. She’s sociable, probably wouldn’t hide him away and make him feel like some dirty secret.

And one of her latest posts is tagged in New York, from a couple weeks ago. A carousel of photos, each as pretty as the last, and you hold your breath as you swipe through them for any sort of sighting of the curly brown hair you know too well.

The sighting doesn’t come, but as you scroll down a little, you find something just as bad. 

Liked by lhughes_06.

If you were hesitant to accept Ellie’s word for it, confused by Luke’s own reluctance to let you in, and Ethan’s shifty explanation of his best friend’s privacy, then this is the confirmation you need to finally accept the truth.

Luke is moving on.

And maybe you need to let him. 

When Luke wakes up the morning after, his head is pounding. There’s a relentless thud between his ears, and he swears his brain feels loose, like it’s rattling around his skull at even the slightest shake of his head.

He doesn’t think it’s a hangover - he’d had a few drinks, but not that many, and had ended up coming home a lot earlier than anticipated, his party spirit dampening as soon as you left, anyway. He’d fallen asleep with his phone in hand, staring at your message thread and trying to figure out if texting you would be a good idea, so maybe it’s staring at a screen for almost an hour that gave him such a headache, he thinks.

But all his usual remedies aren’t working.

He drinks a full bottle of water straight from the refrigerator, chugging the contents down until the plastic is squeezed to within an inch of its life in his hand, and manages to swallow down some Tylenol with it. He showers, letting the water spray directly onto his neck and shoulders to try and relieve the tension there, and spends a little longer than usual to try and wash the pain away. He even makes himself a decent breakfast to try line his stomach, but by the time 10am rolls around, he still feels like crap.

He is supposed to fly back to Jersey in the late afternoon, and as the hours tick on, there’s a panic that stirs within him - a feeling like he’s forgotten something, already, even though he doesn’t have to leave for a while. His bags were packed yesterday - he had figured he’d get ahead so that he isn’t stressing - and he doesn’t have to worry about returning a rental car, because he’s been driving his dad’s while they’re out of town and is supposed to leave it at the airport, anyway. He’s checked all the windows around the house, and the settings on the heater - there are no dishes in the sink, no clothes left in the washer or dryer, and it’s about as tidy as it was when he arrived last week. 

And it’s only when he checks his phone for what is probably the 20th time that he even realises he keeps doing it - realises what he thinks he’s missing.

You.

He probably would have been with you, if things didn’t blow up last night.

He’d have been at your house, or you’d have been at his, and you’d have kept him busy all the way up until the point he needs to leave. He’d have slept by your side, like he’s pathetically getting so used to doing, now, and would have woken up to your pretty eyes slowly blinking back at him. And he figures that’s why he felt off as soon as he opened his own, with the sun peering into his bedroom through the thin curtains, and the  slight chill that wracked through his body without yours to keep him warm.

You haven’t even text him - the last message on his phone being from Ethan, last night, after he’d dropped you off, one Luke had seen as he sat in the back of his Uber home, all desire to be around anybody swiftly drained as soon as you were gone. 

His hands start to shake the longer he thinks about it, and the more he remembers - pushing you away and watching you leave - and he can’t even rationalise it all, anymore. 

Summer might feel like a lifetime ago, but if that’s the case, then it’s a lifetime of Luke still wanting you. It’s months of trying to fan the flames of your affections, trying to keep the spark alive, despite all the ways you had told him it was long blown out. 

He knows. He’s always known that there was something left.

But he’s tired of being the only one who believes in it, anymore.

Jack doesn’t support him, his parents are none the wiser, his teammates barely have time for their own relationship dramas, let alone his, and the only person who had ever encouraged him to pursue more with you lives on the other side of the continent. 

But right now, the last remedy that comes to mind is a call with his oldest brother - one last ditch attempt to clear his mind before he flies back to Jersey and throws himself back into hockey for the last few months. 

He’s found himself calling Quinn much more while he’s been home alone for the past 10 days, with Jack busy with the tournament, and his parents busy watching them - he thinks there’s a common ground there, with Quinn, where he’s sort of detached to the point of novelty when it comes to Luke’s life. 

He offers a fresh perspective, gives unbiased advice - helps him make pancakes over FaceTime for the girl in his bed who isn’t his girlfriend, and doesn’t make snarky comments or push him to talk about it. 

And so he’s pressing on his contact before he can think better of it - waiting until Quinn’s face pops up on his screen, seemingly propped up while he makes himself a breakfast smoothie all the way over in Vancouver. 

“Lukey, what’s up?”

“Hey man, you got a minute?”

“Sure, let me just back away from the blender before I try to multitask and blitz my kitchen.”

He watches with a grateful smile as Quinn makes his way through his apartment, walking into the living room himself and throwing himself down onto the seat in the bay window.

“Surprised you found the time to call me, thought you’d be spending your morning at a certain sorority or something.” His older brother laughs as he lowers himself down onto the couch in his apartment, the view behind him that of a misty Vancouver, the sun barely seeping through the clouds.

It makes him feel a little closer, to see it - peering through the glass at the front of their parent’s house, himself, and looking up at familiar grey skies.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Luke frowns, hating the way his gut twists guiltily at the vague memory of last night - of your elation turning into evasion, and the way he still thinks he can taste you if he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip. “I don’t think she wants to see me right now.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I’m the problem?” 

“Are you not?”

“I don’t even know.” He groans, looking back on the evening with a lot more clarity than his beer-goggles had allowed him, before. “I sort of blew up at her last night about something, I had a couple drinks, and I think I was pretty harsh. She left the party early and we��d usually text by now, but I think she’s probably avoiding me.”

“You’re gonna have to quit being so vague if you want me to help you out, man.”

The look Quinn is giving is like the virtual version of a brotherly swat, a blank but bold stare at the screen that’s his own silent way of telling his little brother to just spit it out, already.

And Luke takes little convincing - despite all the months he’s held back from doing so. This is technically a boiling point, and keeping this whole thing between the two of you such a secret has done absolutely nothing to serve him, so far. He could really use the help, he thinks.

“We’re supposed to be friends.” Luke sighs, “Back in summer, we had a thing, like we were sort of, almost together,” he cringes as he says it, unable to think of a better way to lay it out. Sure, he’d spoken to Quinn a little about you, back then - had admitted to having a crush, at least, but he hadn’t shared much past that. And it’s different with his older brother, he thinks, on the other side of the continent, oblivious somewhat to Luke’s day to day, and just how much it probably involved you by now. He needs to explain it for it all to make any kind of sense. “Like we were hanging out together all the time, and sleeping together, and it sounds like a mess but it was perfect when it was just us.”

“Are you waiting for me to be shocked or something?” Quinn queries after a moment’s pause, quirking a brow with narrowed eyes pointed straight at the camera. “Because we all knew you were sort of, almost together, you couldn’t have been any more obvious about it if you tried. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Luke huffs out an elongated breath, the whole thing feeling like a waste of time, right about now. Keeping you hidden, abiding by your rules of saying nothing about whatever was going on between the two of you. What was the point in kissing you behind closed doors and rushing you back to your bedroom in the mornings if everybody knew, anyway? What could the two of you be, now, if you hadn’t held yourselves back? “I really fell for her, though. Hard. Like the worst hit I’ve ever taken in my life. And I fucked it all up by being stupid, and I said some pretty awful stuff about her that she overheard,” he winces, hating even looking back on that stupid conversation with Cole, not wanting to slip and indulge too much to his oldest brother about it through fear of valid judgement. “And it took her a while to let me back in, and she said that we’d only ever be friends, and obviously I want to be more, obviously I’m still in love with her, but she made it pretty clear we’d never cross that line again, and I can’t spend the rest of my life standing at the wrong end of a bridge I can’t cross, do you know what I mean?”

“No,” Quinn deadpans, “I’ve never heard anything so dumb in my life.”

“She kissed me, last night, Quinn,”

“Sounds horrific.”

“And I pushed her away,”

“Sounds idiotic.”

“You don’t get it,” Luke’s jaw tenses, glaring at his brother through the screen. “She only kissed me ‘cause she didn’t want me to kiss somebody else. She saw me with this girl she hates and I found her after, she was pretty upset.”

“Lukey boy,” Quinn chuckles, giving an amused, crooked smile on the other end of the call, “You’re so full of shit, the hot girl that you like kissed you, it’s hardly the end of the world.”

“Don’t be a dick, Q,” Luke scowls, trying to push past the flare of agitation that lights within him at his brother referring to you as the hot girl. Even he can see how hypocritical it is, but it’s instinct - he can’t exactly fight it.

“No, come on,” his older brother starts, straightening up where he’s seemingly reclining on the couch, a surefire sign that he’s about to give some sort of lecture. “You spend your whole summer obsessed with her, and God-knows how long before that, and you fuck up so monumentally that the girl doesn’t talk to you for like 6 weeks, and then by some miracle she lets you back in and you fuck it up again.”

“Jack said I should move on,” Luke huffs in response, some attempt at trying to rationalise how stupid he had been to push her away last night.

“Jack’s an idiot.”

“He said that she’s probably moving on, and he made out that it was all sort of one-sided, and you know how much him and Ellie talk, I figured it had to have come from somewhere-,”

“It came from him being an idiot,” He repeats, “And it must be contagious, because why would you not just talk to her instead of letting it all blow up like that?”

“I tried,” Luke whines, “We went to a game together last week, I asked her about dating and stuff,”

“And?”

Luke frowns as he tries to remember the crux of the conversation - you’d joked that you wouldn’t go to a hockey game on a date, that you hadn’t been going to games on dates, and it never really expanded further than that, his attempt too specific to the situation and not the wider issue. 

“I guess she said she wasn’t, but I probably wasn’t asking the right question.” He admits, blinking slowly as he tries to come up with any other reason why he had acted so irrationally the night before.

“So let me get this straight,” Quinn’s voice brings him back a little, shoulders stiffening in preparation of the verbal lashing he’s no-doubt about to receive. “You two spend a whole week together, like every waking second in her company when she’s not in class or with her friends, she spends valentines and her birthday with you, she tells you that she isn’t dating anybody else, she gets so upset about seeing you with somebody else that you find her almost in tears, and you somehow ignore all of the evidence that she is, in fact, into you, only to push her away because Jack implied she might have moved on?”

Well that sounds fucking stupid, Luke thinks. 

“But she-,”

“She what?” Quinn asks, raising an expectant brow. “She snuck you into her house all week, despite the fact we both know how strict those girls can be about having guys over? She spent every day doing things that were important to you, trying to learn about the things you like, hanging around your friends, coming to you when she was upset?”

“You don’t get it,” Luke huffs, regretting all the information he’d been sharing with his brother throughout the last week right about now - not realising the little parts would be pieced together and used against him like this. “She told me she only wanted to be friends, she told me multiple times, and she only ever wants more when she is upset, like I’m just there to comfort her, or something.”

It had been the same back in summer, initially - you only ever sought him out when you were agitated or emotional over something you wouldn’t talk to him about. You followed him up to his bathroom after seeing him with Victoria, you brought him upstairs to his room in the middle of a party after an argument with Jack - and he had been fine with it, at the time - encouraged it, even, trying to flare up your jealousy to prompt you to give in to him, taking whatever scraps of your affections you were willing to give - but this feels different. 

He can’t keep carrying on like this.

“Don’t you want to comfort her?”

“Of course I fucking want to comfort her,” he scoffs, because it isn’t about that. He loves you, he’ll always want to comfort you if you’re hurting or upset, but he can’t keep himself on stand by to be available to your methods of avoiding your problems only for you to keep pushing him away, otherwise. “But, I don’t know, there has to be a line, you know?” He sighs, “I have to put a line there before I fall any further and she pulls the rug from under me when she does start dating. Like she just saw me speaking to some girl she doesn’t like, and then she said she doesn’t want to see me with anyone else, but she still wants to be friends! I told her that we both need to move on, I don’t even know why, I don’t even think I want her to.”

“You need to talk to her, man,” Quinn frowns, “You need to tell her that.”

“That’s what last night was-,”

“No, last night was impulse,” he sighs back, “It was you after a few drinks, and both of your emotions at a high, and you blew up at her out of nowhere. Sure, she probably shouldn’t have kissed you, but you’ve got to give her a chance for her to think about what she wants instead of just telling her she needs to move on because she didn’t give you the right answer in the moment, Luke.”

You weren’t there, Luke wants to say, you don’t understand.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe an outsider’s perspective - someone like Quinn, who is fair and reasonable, who doesn’t let his loyalty to or protectiveness over his little brother cloud his judgement, who always understood the depths of his relationship with you before Luke could ever admit it to anybody - sees more than Luke could, himself.

“Go over, before you head to the airport,” Quinn says, his tone suggestive, but classically authoritative, “You don’t wanna leave it like that, trust me.”

“Yeah,” Luke breathes, “Thanks, man, sorry for dumping all of this on you.”

“It’s fine,” Quinn smiles back, crooked and familiar, bringing the kind of comfort Luke finds himself craving, sometimes, when his other brother is being a dick. “I’d rather you come to me than Jack, he just ends up making a bigger mess that I have to clean.”

Luke gives some attempt at a laugh that doesn’t quite seem right with how heavy everything else feels, and lets his brother carry on with his own morning routine with no more whining from him. 

He gets himself ready, loads his bag into the trunk, and makes sure everything is locked up and secure before setting off across town on a route he now knows like the back of his hand. He sits in the car, parked up across the street from your house, for 10 minutes - trying to think of how he can possibly clear everything up before he leaves - when he sees something that makes his breath catch.

You come out of the house, bundled in what looks like a bunch of layers and his sweatshirt on top, your backpack slung over your shoulder, and you’re smiling as you turn back to speak to someone following you out of the house. Even from as far away as Luke is, the sight of your smile calms something within him, but that calm quickly turns frigid as he takes notice of who is coming through the door behind you.

Ethan is wearing the same clothes as last night, his hair is shaggy and unkempt, and Luke recognises the kind of wry grin he’s flashing your way from back when the two of them lived together when he was in college. It’s the kind of smile that follows a phrase Luke can still hear in the back of his mind, as if it were last uttered to him yesterday, and not almost 2 years ago. I don’t kiss and tell.

And that swirl of panic comes back tenfold - fingers clenching against the wheel as he starts the car back up and drives off as quick as he can, not wanting to watch anymore of whatever scene that was between the two of you unfold. 

If he hadn’t regretted last night before, he sure does, now - because he understands you more than ever - 8 familiar words ringing around his skull like a siren sound. 

I don’t want to watch you move on, you had told him, pupils blown and lips swollen as you spoke, the surface of them still slick and pink from his bruising kiss. And being the idiot he is, he had encouraged you to do just that - had thought it would be what’s best for you both, what’s healthy and right.

But he doesn’t want to watch you move on, either.

And now it seems like he has no choice.

Trying to distract yourself from the fact that Luke is actively avoiding you is harder than you ever thought it would be.

You lived so much of your life before him that it really shouldn’t take a lot of effort to try and reignite some form of your old routine, but as the days pass by - and the conversation lulls, the texts dwindle into short responses, and the FaceTimes cease entirely - you think you might have forgotten what your world was ever like without him. 

You throw yourself back into your school work for a couple weeks, but it doesn’t really work the same as it used to, and you find yourself thinking about your future too much - about your grades, about NYU, about all the plans that involved him and now don’t seem as certain as they once did. You get back into the groove with your sorority responsibilities, spend a lot more time with your sisters, helping to plan the activities and events like you did a lot more last year, but you find yourself checking Luke’s game schedule more often than you should, trying to make sure nothing clashes even though he probably doesn’t care by now and he no doubt has Yasmin to support him instead of you.

And then you try to do things for yourself. You get back into your routine at the gym, you pick up swimming again and even volunteer on your one day off a week to teach a few lessons at the rec centre, thankful for those few hours you spend with a bunch of kids who just want to splash around and dive for the random items you throw into the deep end for them. 

You manage to find some semblance of balance, but he’s always in the back of your mind, and before you know it, weeks have passed - whatever spark you had left with Luke fading as they do - and the last text you have from him is from 5 days ago. You’d tried to lure him into a movie night, asking about his availability, and he’d said he would let you know. He never did. And that is what led you to tonight - going out to the movies instead of sitting on your bed and thinking Luke should be beside you, and you figured it was the safer option, going somewhere that you never went with him.

You even ran into Ethan while you were out - and where the initial sight of him might have previously made you a little nauseous just from the connection to Luke, the last few weeks have alleviated that, somewhat.

After Ethan had dropped you home that night of the party, you’d left your bedroom to find him hiding behind a corner at the top of the stairs while the rest of your sisters lingered around at the bottom. He had been wearing the same clothes from the night before, and was close enough to your friend Megan’s room to understand that he had spent the night there. And you know Megan well enough to know she probably kicked him out and left him to his own devices, too exhausted to try and sneak him out of the house, herself.

So you did the honours - you figure you’d gotten good at it with the amount of times you had snuck Luke in and out the week prior - and helped him navigate his way out without getting caught, leaving the house with him on your way to class. He’d offered to drive you as repayment, and you’d gladly accepted, and the two of you ended up speaking more often - finding comfort in the way you didn’t really have to hide from him, anymore. He’d seen a vulnerable part of you that you no longer had to cover up, and it had been nice to have someone else that you didn’t really have to pretend around.

The local IMAX was playing The Martian, one of your favourites - so what if it was something you watched with Luke all the way back in summer? And you’d just planned on watching the movie and going home, but bumping into Ethan had stretched out your plans a little. 

You’d both been hungry after the movie, despite the copious amounts of popcorn you ate and the giant soda you drank, and he suggested grabbing burgers. And then the burger place he drove out to was right beside an arcade, and he’d wandered in there first, really - you just followed - but you don’t regret it. 

You ended up having a lot of fun - the weightless kind, where Luke sort of slipped from the back of your mind. And it wasn’t even just Luke that slipped - it was the stress of school, of your finals coming up, of finding out your dad was going to be on vacation again when you were due to graduate, and you’d gotten into a fight with your mom about NYU and turning down the job you had lined up back in Chicago. It was all the things that you’d been bottling up now that you didn’t really have Luke to talk to, and forgetting them for even just one night was nice.

Ethan had dropped you home after the arcade, and left you at the side of the street in front of the sorority house with the stuffed animal you had won just for Ellie, because she’d seen the little duck in the back of the picture you sent to her of your whereabouts. 

And you’re just about to knock on her door when it swings open - Ellie’s eyes red and her cheeks puffy with fresh tears, alarm and panic in her features that immediately elicited the same in your own. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, heart seeming to thud to a dramatic stop as you watch her lips tremble and she ushers you into her bedroom.

“It’s Jack,” Ellie sniffles, “He got hurt, it’s pretty bad.”

“Oh, El,” you reach out to take her into your embrace, rubbing at her back as sobs wrack straight through her spine. “What happened?”

“He took a hit and went straight into the boards, I can’t bring myself to watch the replay, they’re saying on twitter that he passed out, and I can’t get a hold of anybody. Could you watch it for me? Could you tell me if he looks alright?” You hadn’t even realised there was a game on tonight - too consumed in your plans and your determination to have a night off from thinking about Luke to even check.

“Oh, I don’t-,” You break away, trying to think of how best to get out of it. You’re really not the best with injuries, and if it’s bad enough for her to be this upset, you have a feeling it’s going to make you feel sick. “Maybe I should ask Ethan to come over and watch it for you, I-,”

“Please?” She pleads, eyes round and welling with tears, a surefire way to get you to agree. “I just need someone to be honest with me.”

“Yeah,” You resign, holding out your hand for Ellie to give you her phone, seeing the video is already loaded once she’s unlocked it. “Yeah, alright.”

Ellie turns away with her hands covering her ears as you press play, and you watch as Jack skates toward the net, readying himself for the puck to be played towards him, not expecting the way he’s being approached from behind all of a sudden, and can’t bring himself to a stop before he’s colliding straight into the boards, the opposition player bumping straight into the back of him.

You try not to wince at the impact, at the way Jack’s body goes limp and he has to be turned over by the other player. You try to focus on the positives before you assemble your thoughts - he gets up, he can skate on his own, he isn’t bleeding anywhere - but it’s hard when you know him. 

It’s hard when, as much as you and Jack don’t really get along, you’re similar in more ways than you’d like to admit, and you know that seeing him express even the slightest bit of pain must mean he’s in absolute agony.

She said that she wants honesty, but you know Ellie - she doesn’t want to worry, you don’t want her to worry, not until she knows all the facts.

“He’s up, he’s skating off,” you tell her, glancing up and offering what you hope is a comforting smile, a slight twist of your lips that does little, probably, to hide your own concern. “I don’t think it’s the same shoulder he hurt last year.” You remember how much she stressed about that at the time - about his surgery, and the aftermath, and you’d been living with him back at the beginning of summer, enough to know which side he previously had in a sling, or which side he avoided doing much activity with in the earlier weeks. “It doesn’t look great, but at least he can take himself off the ice, right?”

Even from clips of the incident, you can tell how much it worries the people around him - players on the ice, fans in the stands, and you wonder for a second about Luke, about how it must feel to watch from the bench and have to carry on without knowing what’s happening. 

And now you’re worried about him. 

You hand Ellie’s phone back over, watching as she chews nervously at the inside of her cheek, spinning the device in her hand and fidgeting erratically.

“I’ll wait with you until we hear something,” you promise, placing a hand gently on her lap to try and stop her knee from bouncing. You hand the stuffed animal you’re still holding out to her, and she takes it with a limp smile that comes nowhere close to reaching her eyes. “I’ll get you a drink, do you want something warm to calm you down? I can make you a sleepy tea, if you want?”

Ellie nods, eyes glistening as she maintains that weak effort of a smile, and you smile back, an attempt at reassurance before you hand her phone back and head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re thankful it’s empty when you finally walk in, able to wait around while the water boils and try to calm yourself down. 

You know it’s selfish as soon as you start to think it - your best friend in pieces upstairs about her boyfriend being hurt - but all that flashes through your mind is Luke. That could have been Luke. How would you feel if Luke was hurt? How do you feel that he’s potentially, probably hurting now, even thought it isn’t him? How are you supposed to help him through this from so far away, with everything going on, afraid to even text him first, anymore? Would he even want you to?

 Your cellphone burns a hole in your back pocket, the urge to reach out is practically making your fingers itch, and you cast a glance to the clock that flashes on the little screen on the range. He’s probably back in his hotel, by now. Or he’s with Jack and the medical team. 

You could call him. Just so you’ve at least tried. Just so he knows you’re there if he needs you, and that the last few weeks of minimal contact mean nothing if there’s any potential of something happening to him.

Sitting around and dwelling on the fact that he hasn’t tried to call you is pathetic, you think. It’s self-centred and petty, and you need to be better than that. He deserves better than that.

So, as Ellie’s tea is brewing, you reach into your pocket, swipe at your phone with muscle memory and bring it up to your ear, waiting for the beep of his voicemail so that you can leave some sort of message, even if he probably won’t listen. 

“Hey,” his voice cuts at your spiralling thoughts, low and tired, more like a sigh than anything else, and your body straightens against the counter as you rush to respond.

“Hi,” you say, a weird flutter in your chest at the mere sound of his voice after so long. “I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

He doesn’t reply other than a little huff, and you’re sort of thankful for it - if he doesn’t reply, he can’t say something you don’t want to hear, like how he doesn’t want to hear from you.

“I just got back to the house and Ellie told me about Jack, I wanted to check on you.”

“Pretty late to be just getting back,” he murmurs, and you hear a little shuffling, like he’s moving around, before you hear the soft clasp of a door in the background. “You overstay your welcome at the library again?”

“No,” you breathe out a little laugh, leaning against the counter as you watch steam rise from the mug of tea sat on top. “I finally followed your advice, actually,” you tell him in the hopes that hearing that might perk him up just a little. “Ditched the books for a day, did a whole lot of not studying.”

For as long as you’ve been stressing about school, Luke has been trying to guide you towards some sort of balance - giving yourself a little grace to actually have a breather - and maybe your main stressor hadn’t been studying, this time, but he doesn’t need to hear that, right now. 

“Oh, really?” You can hear his smile through the phone, small but sure, and the sound of it eases a little of the anxiety swelling in the pits of your stomach. “You get up to anything cool?”

“Yeah, actually,” you stir at Ellie’s tea absentmindedly, hoping you’re offering some sort of distraction. “They were playing The Martian at the IMAX, I got all up close and personal with Matt Damon and his shitty potatoes.”

“Sounds like you had fun,” he snorts, and you’d like to think you can hear the soft semblance of a smile, even if his heart isn’t entirely in it.

“It was great, we went to go get burgers and play pinball after, which is why I’m so late home.” You sigh, only just starting to feel the exhaustion from it, hoping this sleepy tea does its wonders on Ellie so that you can both go to bed pretty quick. “I feel like I haven’t done anything fun like that all year.”

“Who’d you go with?”

“Just Ethan,” you scoop the teabag from the water and dispose of it, frowning as you realised you’ve somehow made this whole call about yourself, guilt seeping into your subconscious. “But enough about me, how’s everything with you? How’s Jack? Ellie said she hasn’t been able to reach him, which is why I thought you wouldn’t pick up.”

“Uh, they think they’re gonna send him back to Jersey,” Luke laments, “He’s gonna miss the game in Dallas, he’s convinced his season is over, so he’s pretty down right now. I think he’s about to give El a call and tell her.”

“What about you?” You bite your lip, hoping Ellie is occupied upstairs and you can stay on with Luke a little longer. This feels less charged than the last few times you’ve spoken - easier, despite the heavy topic - and you just want him to know that this sort of stuff is still on the cards. At least, you hope it is. “Can’t have been easy, watching him go down like that.”

“I’m fine.” The way he says it is short, obviously a lie, and you try to tell yourself not to take it personally. Luke never usually lies to you. Sometimes he doesn’t really talk about stuff, but he’s never hidden his feelings from you. But this isn’t the kind of thing the two of you have really had to navigate, before. Maybe it’s even the kind of thing he doesn’t want to navigate with you - maybe it’s something friends don’t navigate together. 

“You know you can talk to me if you’re not,” you assure him, in the hopes that he won’t shut you out. “I told Ellie I’d stay with her for a bit, but I can always call you after, even if you don’t want to talk, it’s been a while, I-,”

“I’m fine,” he repeats, even shorter this time, his tone clipped, and the silence that follows feels like it goes on forever. 

“Okay,” You croak after a moment, hesitance creeping up on you, again, all joviality from the previous conversation drained.

“I gotta go,”

“Luke, I-,” you don’t even know what you want to say, but there’s this voice inside that’s screaming to say something. To put up some sort of fight, to make sure he knows you want to be there for him. But this sudden reluctance is all consuming. It’s debilitating, even, and it overpowers that meek, unsure voice in a booming, unavoidable roar, that tells you he doesn’t want your help. He wants to move on, and you’re not letting him. And so all you can bring yourself to say, again, is “Okay,” like a whispered resignation. 

He mutters out some form of goodbye before he hangs, up, and you find yourself staring at the billowing steam rising from the mug of sleepy tea until a hand on your shoulder shakes you from your reverie.

“Was starting to think you’d knocked yourself out with this stuff,” Ellie huffs out a weak laugh as she steps up to the counter beside you, taking the mug by the handle and bringing it to her lips. You watch as she takes a sip, as the line of frustration between her brows smooths itself out, and her shoulders slump a little, relaxed and soothed. “Just spoke to Jack, he’s flying out to Jersey in the morning for further evaluation, said he’ll update me after.”

“Oh,” you shake yourself out of your own head, feigning ignorance as you cross your arms over your chest. You can’t tell her about your call with Luke, partly because you don’t know what Jack has told her to try and ease her worries, and partly because talking about Luke with Ellie fills you with unyielding dread every time, and it’s the last thing you need. “Does he have any idea what’s wrong?”

“Won’t know until tomorrow,” she sighs, “He thinks he’s gonna need surgery, though.”

“Shit,” you mutter.

“I think if that’s the case, I might ditch spring break and go spend it with him. Help him out while I can, you know?”

You nod, pressing your lips together. The two of you were booked on a trip to Cabo, your last spring break together as seniors, and a few of your sisters were going, too, so you won’t be on your own if she does have to ditch you. You can’t hold any resentment about it. 

You’d do the same, if it happened to Luke, you think. Not that he probably would want you to, anymore.

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he’s right about boundaries, and blurred lines. Maybe you’re taking things too far.

“Of course,” you try to offer comfort, a reassuring smile that doesn’t feel as authentic as you’d like and a gentle pat to her shoulder, hoping you don’t reek of condescension.

Ellie chews at the corner of her bottom lip, like she wants to say something else, but nods, instead, diverting her gaze as she sips at her tea. “I’m here for you too, you know,” she says, after a few seconds, eyes peering up carefully to meet yours. “If you need me.”

“I’m not the one with the broken boyfriend,” you chuckle softly, thankful for the smile she gives back, a little of the tension eased from your shoulders. 

The fact that you’re the one with the breaking bond goes unspoken, but you can tell Ellie is thinking it - it’s why she offered, in the first place, more perceptive of your situation with Luke than you probably give her credit for.

But you don’t want her pity - you don’t deserve it. You made your own bed with Luke, and all you can really do now is lie in it. He doesn’t want you anymore - not in the same capacity he used to, not like summer, whenever he cast a heated glance your way, and you’d feel it all the way through to your bones. You don’t think you’ll ever go back to that, it’s too late to get that back. You need to give him the space he so clearly desires, and maybe the two of you can find your way back to something resembling the friendship you had before you monumentally fucked it all up.

And maybe Ellie can give you the perfect distraction to do just that - focusing on fixing your relationship with her instead of investing all your efforts on a guy that no longer wants you back.

Luke knows it’s a selfish thing to say, but Jack’s injury has been hard on him.

For the second year in a row, his brother has had to end his season early, at the most crucial, cut-throat point as the team battle to make it to the playoffs, and Luke has had to shoulder a lot of the aftermath on his own.

There’s media, who are constantly asking him about it, waiting to trip him up, make him share something he’s not supposed to, or say something he doesn’t want to, and every time there’s a camera or a microphone shoved into his face, he dreads the social media discourse that follows. 

There’s commentators and people in the league themselves, providing a constant reminder that the Devils are at some sort of disadvantage, and have to work twice as hard to make up for everyone that’s slowly succumbing to the brutality of the sport as they finally near the peak.

There’s coming home to an empty apartment while Jack’s away getting his surgery, and trying not to worry or overthink what he’s going through.

And then there’s Jack himself, when he returns - a grouchy, bitter mess of a person who can’t see the wood for the trees, can’t focus on anything other than where he’s stuck, watching his team persist in his absence and wishing more than anything in the world he can take someone’s place - that the misfortunes that keep finding him lose track, just once - even though he would never want anyone else to hurt like that. 

And trying to juggle accommodating his brother's situation with his own is rough. Back to back losses following Jack’s departure, increased pressure on Luke as he takes on more responsibility within the team, and if you throw all of that in with the loss of his own coping mechanisms, Luke has found himself in a rut.

He isn’t sleeping the best, and he’s distanced from everyone - too in his head about seeing you and Ethan together to reach out to either one of you where he usually would - and he’s losing himself as the weeks blur by, and it isn’t until Jack mentions that Ellie is around that he lets himself think about you - about everything that happened in his bye-week, about how he’s been a pretty shitty friend to you, since.

“It’s spring break,” Jack says as Luke comes home to find him up and dressed for what seems like the first time since he got back from his surgery - struggling to shrug into a jacket while he only really has use of one arm. “She came out to spend it with me, gonna go over to her rental and watch a movie, you’re coming too.”

“Dude, I’m exhausted,” Luke huffs, throwing his keys into the bowl by the door as he watches his brother glare back at him, “I just want to go to bed, you don’t need me around when you’re hanging out with your girlfriend, I really don’t want to be seeing all that.”

“Lucky for you, there’s nothing to see,” Jack scowls back, “Ellie brought hell-spawn over with her, that’s why she isn’t staying here. Need you to work your magic as you seem to be the only one of us she can tolerate and I’m not in the mood for her bullshit.”

You’re in Jersey?

“I thought they were going to Cabo?” Luke frowns, too in his head about the fact that you’re in Jersey without telling him that he doesn’t call Jack out on how stupid he sounds, stopping in place as he watches his brother shrug in response.

“Ellie wanted to come out and see me, I guess she followed.”

And before Luke knows it, he’s driving the two of them over to the condo the two of you have rented for the week, and Ellie is answering the door with a giant grin on her face, cooing at Jack as she ushers them inside. 

He’s looking around like a madman until she tells him you’re in the kitchen, and that you’re gonna need some help getting the snacks and drinks together - and despite it only being a few feet away, Luke feels breathless as he barges through the door, like he can’t calm down until he sees you in person.

Your back is to him when he enters, but the commotion he makes is enough to draw your attention, and your eyes are wide when they land on him, and not in the way that he usually likes.

Something about this whole situation makes him uneasy - the weeks of minimal contact, the lack of closure, the way you’re looking at him like you don’t know what to say. 

You’ve never not known what to say, not when it comes to him.

“Hi,” he offers, because it’s the easiest thing for you to respond to, and the rest of the problems between the two of you are his own fault, so he may as well be the one to start to fix them.

“Hey,” you give back, the microwave pinging behind you, and you turn back to retrieve the bags from in there before you transfer them to the side. “I didn’t realise you were coming.”

“I didn’t realise you’d be in town,” he frowns, “Last you told me you guys were going to Mexico, your big senior spring break trip.”

That had been last month, and he has been a little distant since he left Michigan, but if you’re around, he would want to know about it. He can’t fathom why you’d be in the same city and not even tell him that you’re around. 

He also can’t fathom why you’d give up something you’ve been looking forward to all year.

“Yeah, well, Ellie wanted to be here for Jack,” you shrug, busying yourself by emptying the popcorn out of the bag and into a few bigger bowls. He can’t remember ever having a conversation where you didn’t give him your full attention, and he feels a little nervous as he watches you focus on anything but him. “And I want to be here for Ellie, she shouldn’t have to miss out on her last spring break.”

“You couldn’t have told me?”

“Thought you’d be busy,” you reply, still not looking his way, “You’ve been busy most times I’ve tried to reach out the past few weeks.”

He wants to tell you that’s different, but it isn’t. He’s been avoiding you, and it’s obvious to the both of you that he’s been using the distance as the perfect excuse. He technically has been busy, but it’s no more than he was before that night in Michigan, and he managed to make time for you then. Sure, he’s been on the road, and there’s been a string of some pretty shitty games, but he’d had the same in January, too, and the two of you still kept up texting, at least.

“I mean, I’m playing like every other day this week,” he pouts, “But I’d still want to see you.”

He watches as your brows knit together, your movements coming to a halt as you stand in front of the counter, still not sparing him a glance. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplate a response, and he wants to give you the time to think of one - doesn’t want to rush you again into saying something you don’t entirely mean.

He might have ignored Quinn’s instruction to clear up this entire mess before he left Michigan, but the rest of that conversation has still been weighing on his mind - about how he had been impulsive, and unfair, and he hadn’t considered all the ways you showed him things, without necessarily telling him. 

“There is this art installation I wanted to visit,” you tell him, hesitantly meeting his eye, “We could go together, if you’re free at all?”

“As friends?” He asks, because he can’t help himself, watching as your eyebrows raise a little, like you’ve just been hit by an unexpected impact.

“Yeah,” you nod, although you don’t look entirely sure. “As friends.”

And he hates how he can’t even withhold the disappointed sigh he gives, your own shoulders slumping as you notice the reaction, and you retreat a little into your previous distance, eyes darting down until he can no longer see your irises. 

“Maybe we should do something else,” he mutters, trying to push down the immediate need to backtrack when you don’t even respond, “You could come to a game, or something? An installation sounds cool and all, but that’s the kind of thing you do on a date, and we’re supposed to be moving on, right?”

“Are you?” You ask, peering up at him, again, “Moving on?”

He nods before he even realises he’s doing it, but it’s too late to stop before you notice, and all he can think about is the day he came back to Jersey, when he’d seen you leave your house with Ethan. All he can think about is losing you, and for some stupid reason, he thinks this is the only way to stop that. “I’m trying,” he shrugs, like he isn’t actively saying the most insanely stupid lie he’s ever told, “It’s what we said we’d do.” And he only says that to make himself feel better, he thinks - that you were only ever following the rules that he laid out for you, because it helps him to be delusional like that.

“Oh, okay,” you breathe, stepping back with a pained attempt at a smile and dodging his gaze, again, even quieter in your acceptance of his rejection, and it sort of makes him panic. “Yeah, it was stupid, this was stupid, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he frowns, the way he so quickly needs to correct you when you try to shrug him off coming by instinct, now. And he doesn’t like where this is going, now - misses the way you used to just roll your eyes and call him an idiot when he’d act like this, choosing the wrong path at every turn. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you call yourself stupid, and he has to try to reassure you. “It’s not stupid, it’s cool, it sounds like it would be fun, it’s just-,”

“Not together,” you bite back, “I get it.”

He sighs out your name, regretful and apologetic, “That’s not-,”

“Are you guys almost done in here?” Ellie huffs as she shoulders her way into the kitchen, features curled into a soft scowl as she stomps toward the counter, and Luke bites down on his tongue, fighting the sudden urge to tell her to go away. Her and his brother both have the single worst timing he’s ever known in his life. “Jack won’t shut up about how hungry he is." 

“Yeah, sorry,” you mutter, “We’re ready.”

And Luke steps back to let the two of you carry some drinks and snacks through to the living room, holding the door open for the two of you and trying to meet your eye as you slip past, his chest aching all over when you don’t. He grabs whatever’s left and follows the two of you out, watching as you sink down into one of the smaller loveseats, 

Jack and Ellie are taking up most of the couch, so he walks straight over to the seat opposite yours, an entire coffee table separating the two of you where you’d usually sit together, and he tries not to think about the last time you watched a movie - your birthday, when you’d been squished up against his side in your bed, the Wall-E plush he got you smushed between you as you watched the film, itself. 

The last time things had felt easy - the last time any of it had felt right.

And then he’d gone and ruined it.

Jack tees up Good Will Hunting, huffing and puffing when the remote isn’t working like he wants it to but refusing to accept anyone’s help on the matter, and Luke busies himself with his phone while it starts, trying to sort some tickets for his next game so he doesn’t let you down on that front, either, and every time he peers over at you, he thinks the tension grows, somehow, your jaw set and your eyes focusing only on the screen. 

He dips in and out of the movie, waiting for an update so that he can hopefully set about bridging the gap between the two of you tonight, and he only tunes back in at random intervals.

He’s seen it before, it’s one of his favourites, and he probably could quote it back to front without assistance, but certain parts have a new meaning when he really hears them, this time. 

Especially when it comes to a certain monologue, the comforting voice of Robin Williams ringing throughout the room as his character sits beside Will in the park, watching the swans and realising just how short Will’s perspective on life is. 

“If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favourites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy.”

He tries not to glance your way, his jaw tight as he blinks slow, recollections of waking up by your side flashing in his mind like something out of a dream. A blissful peace he hasn’t quite experienced elsewhere, his eyes flitting around your features as you slept, trying to study every inch of your face to commit it to his memory, never knowing if each time he got to experience it that it might be the last.

“I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell.”

He thinks of all those times he sought you out for his own personal comfort - after back to back games that drained every ounce of his energy, long stretches away from the comfort of his own bed, the constant comparisons to his brothers, and how he’d always come up short - but he was always first, to you.

Even when the two of you were caught up in the in-between, whatever you were before - friends, or something more - he always felt like a priority to you. Always wanted you to feel like a priority to him.

“And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her be there forever, through anything.” 

The night of your birthday, the light in your eyes when he gave you those gifts, the soft but beautiful curve of your lips as you told him he was your best friend. The way you were worried he’d get tired of you, and he had promised that he wouldn’t. 

“You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much.”

He hopes with everything in him that this isn’t the same - that he isn’t losing you. That his own immaturity and impatience hasn’t ruined the best thing he ever had in his life.

Because he does love you. He’s loved you for a long time, now.

Since the night of his cousin’s wedding, he thinks, when you’d opened up to him for the first time. Back when you laid in his arms in the dead of the night, your head on his chest and his arms around your body, and it finally felt like you were equals. Like he could stop chasing you, like you’d stop running.

He’s never felt the way he feels with you about anybody else. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t think he possibly could.

He doesn’t know why he ever made out like he could move on. 

But he’s too familiar with saying things he regrets, now. It just keeps happening. Mouthing off to Cole back in summer, agreeing to be just friends in the fall, telling you that he can’t wait around for you at the end of winter, that he’s trying to move on. 

Quinn was right, that morning when he called - he keeps doing stupid stuff out of impulse. Keeps letting his emotions get the better of him, and not giving you a chance to figure things out for yourself. 

When he finds the courage to glance your way again, he just about catches you before you look away - a blink and you’ll miss it moment where he’s not even sure if he imagined it, but he keeps trying for the rest of the movie, a lot more focused on the ending than he previously was on his phone.  

He thinks when it ends, and the credits start to roll, he’ll be able to find a way to ease the tension - to get you alone and talk it out, but his stupid brother opens his stupid mouth, and things escalate before he can even make sense of what’s happening. 

“Stuff like that just doesn’t happen in real life,” Jack huffs, giving his thoughts on how Will chose to leave and go after Skylar, despite their mess of a relationship and how much he hurt her before, “These big love confessions, this whole corny, I gotta see about a girl, thing, why wouldn’t he just be honest about his feelings in the first place instead of trying to sabotage himself? Would save them a lot of trouble.”

You scoff from your own corner of the couch, and Luke’s eyes dart over just in time to catch the distinct roll of your eyes, barely even sparing a glance to Jack as you say, “That’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack winces as he straightens up, Ellie frowning from under his good arm as she follows suit, and Luke feels his own shoulders stiffen in anticipation of an argument - Jack’s been riled up to have one since he got injured, and you’re walking straight into a trap without knowing it.

But you can handle yourself, he thinks, especially when it comes to Jack. 

Only something in you deflates when he looks again, the usual tenacity dissolving right before his eyes, and he watches as your gaze softens, flicking between the couple at the opposite end of the couch. “Forget it, doesn’t matter,” you mutter, your jaw set and your attention diverted back to the screen as the credits roll. 

“That’s what I thought,” Jack grumbles back, accepting the swat Ellie gives to his good side to tell him to reign it in.

Luke doesn’t know why he stays silent, the urge to speak up for you is so strong it’s making his fingers twitch, but you sink into your place against the arm of the seat and fold your arms over yourself, like you’re giving up entirely. 

“I was just saying, he’s a smartass, he’s hard work and she isn’t cut out for it, it shouldn’t be such a struggle to get somebody to open up, their relationship probably wouldn’t last a month once the movie’s over, if she even lets him back in when he goes to California, that is.”

Luke can see as clear as anything that Jack’s only using the film to vent his own frustrations - that he’s angry, and he’s exhausted, and he’s upset at everybody and everything - but he only understands that because it’s his brother. Because he’s known him his whole life. Because he gets where he’s coming from as a player - and Luke thinks he would be the same, if his season came to an abrupt end when he was on such a high, and all he’d known for the past month was loss and pain. He’d be angry, he’d snap at people, try to get them to hurt just a little bit so that it means he’s not alone. And it’s shitty, but he gets it - if his words were spoken to hurt Luke, he’d probably just shoulder the blow.

But they aren’t.

They’re meant to hurt you.

And when Luke looks over, and you’re staring at the wall with a distant, glassy look in your eyes, your lips twisted to stop them trembling, and your arms wrapped around yourself so tight that your shoulders are all hunched up, he can’t really bite his tongue anymore.

“You’re such a hypocrite,” he spits, eyes narrowing as they focus in on his brother, “You’re hard work, and you’re lucky Ellie isn’t running for the hills,”

“Whoa,” Jack frowns back, lips pouting as he diverts his attention across the room, “Chill out, man, it’s just a movie, I’m just saying my thoughts on it.”

“No one asked for your thoughts on it,” Luke scowls, “You’re being a dick for no reason, you don’t always have to spout your opinion on every little thing like it’s fact and shut down anyone who tries to argue with it.”

He expects to have caught your attention, seeing you move out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t expect for you to push yourself up and leave the room entirely, your feet padding softly against the carpet until the sound of them disappears completely, and the door to the kitchen swings closed behind you. 

“Clearly touched a nerve,” Jack mumbles, and even Ellie pushes herself off of him, rolling her eyes until she storms off after you. 

Luke almost wishes she hadn’t - wishes that he could be the one to go and comfort you, but after your conversation in the kitchen, before, he’s not sure if that’s what you would want. 

And he knows it’s his fault for this wedge that’s between the two of you, after pushing you away and telling you to move on and getting all in his feelings about you potentially doing so, leaving Michigan before the two of you could actually talk about it and neglecting to patch up the now gaping hole in your relationship - but he doesn’t know how to fix it.

He doesn’t know how he can sit around and pretend like everything’s fine.

“You really can be an asshole, you know,” Luke snaps at his brother, using the situation as a cover for the way he wants someone to tell him the same - wants you to say it, for you to tell him that he’s dumb, and an idiot, and that he’s hurting you. He doesn’t want you avoiding eye contact and sitting on the other side of the room and coming to Jersey without even telling him. 

“It’s not that deep, Luke-,”

“Seriously?” He scoffs, standing from his own seat and glaring down at Jack, his good arm sprawled across the back of the couch like he’s trying his best to make himself bigger, like Luke can’t see straight through the facade. “I get that you’re having a shitty time of it right now, but you don’t have to take it out on everybody else. You asked me to come with you to try and keep things from blowing up, but all you do is make digs at her for no good reason. I don’t get why you can’t just be nice.”

“I asked you to come with me because I thought you two were friends,” Jack lowers his voice, mindful of the fact that there’s only a wall that separates you and Ellie from the two of them, and he’s obviously on the verge of being in his girlfriend’s bad books after his behaviour. “She was annoyed about something before we even started the movie, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what when she won’t even look your way, Luke. I’m sick of you blaming me for her pissy attitude and not just having it out with her.”

God, he wishes Jack would just butt out of his business, for once.

Why can’t there be a middle ground between his unrelenting cynicism and Quinn’s blind hope?

If there was just one distinct voice for him to listen to, one clear instruction for him to follow, then he’d be able to make sense of everything swirling around his brain. 

He thinks that voice would probably be yours, and he’s going to fall apart if you keep it from him much longer.

“I think you two should go,” Ellie’s voice carries softly over from where she’s come back out of the kitchen, “You have that appointment in the morning, Jack, and you have a game tomorrow,” her eyes are cautious as she casts her gaze toward Luke, raising a brow as if pleading for his help in getting his brother out of the way.

“Yeah,” he mutters, cursing himself for not being the one to go straight after you, instead.

Jack doesn’t put up much of a fight other than his usual huffing and puffing as Ellie helps him into his coat, and Luke gives the two of them a second to say their goodbyes as he stands to the side, keeping an eye on the door you’re yet to reappear through. He wants to give you space - knows that he shouldn’t follow you in there to corner you again, but if you peek your head out, maybe he’ll feel a little less anxious. Maybe then there’s hope.

“Could you let her know I got her a ticket for the game tomorrow?” He asks Ellie before he leaves, “I can get you one, too, a couple of the guys from Michigan are gonna be there, I’d love it if she came.”

“I’ll let her know, Luke,” Ellie’s smile is apologetic, but it just makes him feel worse, and he drives him and Jack back to their apartment in the most uncomfortable silence of his life, his jaw set so hard it aches when he’s home, and he storms straight to his room with a dramatic slam of his door.

He opens up your text thread as he lays awake for what feels like an hour, staring at the keyboard and willing some sort of explanation to come to his head as to why he’s such an idiot.

And that’s how he ends up falling asleep, phone still clutched on his hand, and no further clarification on what the hell is going to happen with the two of you.

When Ellie had told you last night about Luke’s invitation to his game, it had felt like a no brainer at the time that you’d skip this one out. 

You don’t really know how many more knock backs you can take from him after telling him about the installation - an exhibit you’d seen online months ago, that would only be in town for a limited time following its success in Europe, and Luke had been the only person in mind you’d have ever wanted to go with.

But he doesn’t want to go with you.

He wants you at a safe distance, with distinct boundaries, and while you’re grateful for his attempt to try and lessen the blow of his rejection, you think foregoing the game entirely is the safest distance you could possibly wedge between the two of you.

As friends? He’d asked, almost immediately, like he was rubbing your face in it - like the mere thought of you wanting to go as anything more wasn’t even worth entertaining, anymore. And agreeing had been your last attempt to save face, because the last thing you were gonna do was put your heart on the line with his dickhead brother only one room away. You’re not that much of an idiot.

Plus, Ellie has taken your place - and she said some of the guys from college would be there, anyway. He probably won’t even notice you’re not there, just like how he’s managed to pretty much ignore your existence since he left Michigan.

And you can enjoy your first night of peace during your spring break, the others so far consumed by Ellie - not that you mind, all that much, it’s been kind of nice for the two of you to be away from everything, even though you’re within dangerous proximity to her demon boyfriend.

The rental she found is nice, too - the kind of place you could see yourself living in when you move over this way - spacious but cozy, with a giant TV that you can’t wait to watch your heart-shredding movie marathon on.

You set the space up as soon as Ellie left for the game, blankets thrown onto the couch, an array of snacks on the table, My Best Friend’s Wedding on the screen, and you’re about to settle in when there’s a harsh knock at the door, shattering your illusion of peace in an instant.

You grumble the whole way to the door, making sure the chain is on before you open it - all too aware you’re on your own in a city you aren’t entirely familiar with, and it would be just your luck to be murdered, probably.

But when you open the door, you almost wish it was a masked killer.

Jack Hughes stands on the porch, eyes narrowing as you peer at him through the crack in the door, his hip popped impatiently and foot tapping against the floor. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks, raising a brow as he huffs out an irritable sigh, “Considering I’m paying for the place, I really shouldn’t have to ask.”

You frown as you move, unlatching the door and giving him enough room to pass you without the risk of bumping your shoulder and agitating his. “I didn’t know that,” you mumble, annoyed even more so now that Ellie had chosen not to tell you that. You suppose it’s your own fault for not asking, but she of all people knows how you are about others paying your way. “That you were paying, I’ll pay you back if it’s a problem.”

“It isn’t.” He rolls his eyes as he stands in the room you thought was actually nice before he arrived, and now you sort of hate it. 

“Alright, well you didn’t answer my question,” you glare, “Why are you here?”

“I’m supposed to be checking up on you,” he says, rounding the couch before he throws himself down onto it, kicking off his shoes before he swings his legs up. “Usually when I have a headache so bad I can’t leave the house, watching the TV is the last thing I’d be doing.”

“Yeah, well, some of us are built different,” you scowl, “I’m fine, you can go ahead and crawl back to whatever pit you came from, I’ll let Ellie know you fulfilled your supportive boyfriend duties for the month.”

“Can’t actually,” he shrugs his good shoulder, reaching forward and grabbing the remote from where you left it. “Game’s starting in ten minutes, I won’t make it back to my place in time so you’re stuck with me for the next few hours.”

“Great.”

“Plus, Ellie didn’t send me, Luke did.” 

You don’t exactly know how to feel about that. Jack couldn’t be more obvious in his distain for you, and you couldn’t have made it any clearer that you aren’t his biggest fan either, so why Luke would send him of all people instead of just texting you and asking if you’re alright, you don’t know. Especially after the movie last night - Jack is the last person on Earth you would want checking up on you.

“Sorry he wasted your time, then,” you sigh, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“We both know you don’t have a headache,” Jack calls over his shoulder, “So you can give up the act. You’d really leave a guy in a sling on his own for hours? What if I need a drink?”

“That’s what your good arm’s for,” you smile, sardonically, a quick flash of sarcasm that drops as soon as Jack rolls his eyes, “So lucky that you have two.”

“Please?” He asks, uncharacteristically, the sudden shock of him actually being polite instead of demanding causing you to still, “I don’t like watching the games on my own, it makes me all tense, which makes everything hurt a whole lot more.”

And the sudden vulnerability from him seems to hypnotise you, huffing out a petulant fine and sitting as far away from him on the couch as you possibly can.

You’re leaning against one arm, and he’s leaning against the other, and the two of you sit through the build up and the first ten minutes in complete silence until he notices that you’re actually watching, unable to help himself from being a dick, apparently, and asking, “Do you even know what’s going on?”

“No, I just watch for the hot guys,” you scoff, “Thank god you’re not there to lower the average anymore.”

The genuine laugh he snorts out in response in unexpected, and you side eye him until you can feel his attention is completely diverted, the two of you settling back into the quiet until a play towards the end of the first period stuns the two of you.

Luke has the puck, and he’s going so fast you can barely focus, gliding in between the opposition seamlessly until he’s advancing on the net, and just as he’s about to shoot, a much bigger body slams into him, knocking him back until he collides with the boards and crumples over, and a sickening sense of deja vu creeps up on you so quick it makes you dizzy.

You watch the aftermath wide eyed, the whole thing blurring together as Luke takes himself off the ice, and disappears down the tunnel.

The game carries on, but you can’t move - you don’t even think you’ve blinked in a minute - and your mouth is still gaped open like an idiot, the inside of it drying so much that you feel it all the way down your throat.

“He’ll be alright,” you hear from the side of you, a hesitant, reassuring tone that you don’t think you’ve heard come from Jack, before. You turn your head to meet his eye, and his body is fully angled towards you, his gaze scrutinising and intense. “It’s just a knock, he’ll be back on after the intermission probably.”

“Reassuring coming from the guy who just had to have surgery after a knock.” You can’t help but snap back, little bite in your own inflection, but you ache from the tip of your tongue all the way down to your stomach. It didn’t look like just a knock - you’ve seen Luke take knocks before and never have to go off for medical attention - it looked way worse. And all they’re gonna do for the next 15 minutes is replay it over and over.

You feel sick.

“Lukey’s made of harder stuff,” Jack responds, the same relaxed lull to his voice. “That’s what my dad’s always said, anyway. Quinn would tell you the same, there’s something about him that always just bounces straight back, pisses me off a little sometimes, if I’m honest.”

You should probably know that better than anyone - for all the times you’ve pushed him away. But you’re starting to lose faith in that fact, a little. 

“I just don’t want him to be hurt.” You mutter, trying to swallow past the stinging at the back of your throat, gulp down the growing insecurity that maybe you’ve made him weaker, maybe, somehow, this too is your fault.

“My phone’ll probably go off during the break” Jack sits up a little straighter, gesturing out to his cell that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch. “They’ll text me as soon as they’re done taking a look at him. I promise they’d know by now already if it was anything serious. I’d have gotten a call, our medical team are seriously good, they can tell stuff like that in an instant.”

It might be the fact that you’re relying on Jack Hughes of all people for reassurance that forces the tears to start welling in your eyes, your view of him blurring a little - or maybe the fact that he’s actually wilfully giving the reassurance, but either way, you don’t really want him to see you cry.

You sit in an uncomfortable silence as you watch the rest of the period, fidgeting in your place on the couch and picking painfully at the skin beside your fingernails, and it’s only when the last few seconds tick down that you can see Jack shuffle himself in your peripheral, turning until he’s properly facing you again.

“You really care about him, huh?”

You try to blink away the remaining threat of tears before you turn, yourself, meeting Jack’s eye across the couch and trying to muster up some sort of strength to shrug off this awful feeling that you can’t shake. “I’m not the heartless bitch you think I am, Jack,” you denounce, “Of course I care about him.”

He narrows his eyes in a glare, and you can tell he’s biting his tongue, careful not to goad you into some disastrous argument that neither of you really want. Last night had no doubt scratched his itch to lash out at somebody, and you don’t really think you’ll manage a round two.

The two of you stay locked in a heated, silent exchange for a few extended seconds, his jaw tense and your teeth chewing at the corner of your mouth in anticipation.

“Do you love him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, like it’s instinctual at this point, and you wince, even, once the words come out. They feel wrong. They feel like a bare-faced lie. Like some foreign language you have no business even attempting to speak. “I’m hard work, you know that, he knows that, and I think I’m all out of chances to try and convince him otherwise.”

“He doesn’t think you’re hard work,” Jack replies, “Trust me, I’ve been trying to convince him of as much since last summer, and he refuses to listen.”

“He said it himself to Cole,” you huff, hating how quick the memory comes to the forefront of your mind, hearing him say those things about you like it was nothing, replaying them over and over in your head like they were everything. “I heard it, Ellie heard it, he said that I wasn’t the kind of girl that he would date, and that I wasn’t worth the hassle.”

“And I’m sure he told you after that he didn’t mean any of that,” Jack tries to defend, brows furrowing as he thinks of any way to get his point across. “People say stupid things in the heat of the moment, we know that better than anybody, you can’t seriously think he actually believes that stuff,”

“He had to have been thinking it for it to have been said in the heat of the moment, Jack, he didn’t pull all that stuff out of his ass. He always knew it wasn’t gonna work out.”

Jack sighs your name, his free hand rising to rub at his temple in exasperation, and you wait as he winces, your eyes darting to check for any uncomfortable movements with his shoulder - but it’s something else that’s bothering him. 

“I put those thoughts into his head.”

The concept isn’t surprising - you’ve always known Jack hadn’t liked you, always knew he was badmouthing you to whoever would listen, and snarking at you for the entire house to see. It’s what he’d done last night, using the movie as some sort of metaphor for just how fucked up you are, and everybody in the room could see it.

“I told him every opportunity I could get that you weren’t gonna work out, and that you were bad news, and you’d just mess him around until you got bored.” Jack admits, and again, you’re not shocked. He’d said as much to your face. You even thought you’d resolved this whole thing with him last summer, before everything went to shit, but he’s been off with you since then, so you have no doubt his sentiments have picked straight back up where they left off all those months ago. “And every time I did, he’d just tell me to go fuck myself. Still does. I tell him all the time you’re not good for him, and he just tells me I don’t know you. You’re like the only thing we fight about, and we live together for God’s sake, he’s messy as all hell and I don’t give him half as much grief about that as he gives me about being a dick to you.”

“You’re just proving my point,” you huff, “If I’m causing arguments between the two of you, I’m hardly the kind of person he should be keeping around.”

“He loves you too, you know,” Jack offers as rebuttal, raising a brow as if pushing you to fight back on the fact when you zero in on him. “He told Quinn when he was in Michigan. I got this huge lecture off of him about butting in on your business where I’m not wanted.”

You chew a little at the corner of your mouth, the sudden, inappropriate urge to laugh rising within you at the thought of Jack getting a telling off from his big brother. 

“I’ve been angry this whole time that he doesn’t talk to me about stuff when it comes to you, but I guess I’ve been giving him a good reason not to.”

And as much as you don’t get along with Jack, the thought of driving a wedge between them - between all of them - makes you feel like crap, so all you can do is carry on fighting him.

“He wants to move on,” you shrug, “And he said some pretty shitty stuff about me back in summer when Cole said he wanted to take me out, he doesn’t think as highly of me as he makes out.”

“You’re gonna sit there and tell me that if a girl came up to you and said they were gonna ask him out, you wouldn’t try and talk them out of it?” Like you didn’t storm off at the mere sight of him with Victoria at that party. Like you haven’t been spiralling for weeks over him liking some girl’s post on instagram. “That you wouldn’t feel like someone was trying to take something from you?”

Of course you’d feel that way, you think.

Luke Hughes might be the only person you’ve ever let all the way in, and if someone were to swoop in and snatch him from your clutches, you’d probably go insane.

You’d do anything you could to deter them - including using Luke’s flaws and self-doubts against him. You’d even stretch them to fit your agenda, exaggerating the depth of them to make sure you really put them off.

You’d tell them he can be really insecure - that he gets in his head about stuff, especially anything that can be considered a comparison to his brothers - and that sometimes it brings out something avoidant and petty within him. You’d tell them that he isn’t serious when he needs to be, and that, 9 times out of 10, he’s going to crack some awkward joke that doesn’t land and he doesn’t really know how to properly resolve tension. You’d tell them that he craves validation, and it can be a minefield sometimes to navigate his need for attention. 

You wouldn’t tell them that you love all those things - that he gives you this look when you stroke his ego that makes your heart stop, and that your sense of humour matches his like two perfectly placed pieces of a puzzle, and that he somehow manages to creep under your thick skin when you’re trying to stay mad or upset for no reason other than you think you need to. You wouldn’t tell them that he fills the exact same validation-void in yourself, and that the two of you balance each other out like two sides of the same coin.

And as much as the things he had said last summer crushed you - and for as many times as you’ve replayed them in your head over and over for the past several months since hearing them - you think you finally get it.

Jack Hughes is going to be the last person that you admit that to, though.

“We’re not each other’s property,” you protest weakly, instead.

“Oh don’t come at me with that bullshit,” he exasperates, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “I’m not saying he owned you, or that you own him, I’m saying the two of you put in way too much fucking work for someone else to reap the benefits of it.”

“You have a lot to say, all of a sudden, for someone who’s been trying to put him off of me for God-knows how long.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong about you.” He huffs, like it pains him to say it, “And maybe last night I was angry about something else entirely, and I took it out on you because I didn’t want to feel that way on my own.”

Oh.

If that’s as close to an apology as you’re gonna get, you don’t think you entirely mind it.

It makes sense, after all, you think. The two of you have always had this incessant need to rile the other up, and you were the easiest bait he had to make himself feel better.

If you’d had a month like Jack just had, you’d probably do the same.

“Why didn’t you go to the game?” He asks, and just as your lips part to respond, he adds, “And don’t insult me with the whole headache thing,” forcing you to press them back together. 

You sigh, weighing up in your mind if it’s even worth it to open up to Jack at this point. Sure, he’s making out like he finally sees your true intentions, but does it really matter anymore?

“He doesn’t want me there.”

“Of course he wants you there,” Jack frowns, features curling in confusion. “He got you a ticket, he invited you.”

“It was like a consolation thing,” You huff, thinking back on that conversation in the kitchen, where you’d mustered up the courage to cross some unspoken boundary, and he’d shut you down. “I wanted to do something else together, and he said it was too much, said we should be moving on. Blurring me into a crowd of thousands is the only alternative, apparently.”

Jack snorts out some muffled noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and you glare at him as you wait for him to clarify whatever the hell sort of response that was. “You’re both as annoying as each other, you know.”

“Whatever,” you pout, shuffling your body to turn away from him again as you fold your arms over your chest like a petulant child, “He wants to move on, so I’m giving him the space to do that. I’m done with it.”

You don’t know who you’re trying to convince, but you should know better than to think that would ever work on him.

“Right,” Jack snickers, “So done with it that you’re sat here almost crying at the thought of something happening to him.” You scowl, then, because what’s the point in trying to soften your reactions if he’s just going to be an asshole about it. “He’s fine, by the way,” he shakes his phone, then, giving a blurry glimpse of a message thread you can’t even read.

And you thought good news would have lessened the pressure in your chest, this pulsing, swelling feeling that grips at your heart like a vice at the thought of him being hurt - but it doesn’t really go down, at all.

Luke said he wanted to move on. He said he wanted to be friends, and that the two of you should stop blurring the lines.

So why is he sending one brother across the city to check up on you? And why is he telling the other that he loves you?

You weren’t entirely lying, before. 

You are done.

And the only way you think you can ease this pain now is to talk it out, with him, once and for all. 

Trying to talk to Luke is harder than you ever thought it could be.

Texting him seems out of the question, as stupid as that sounds, but when you open up your messages to try, you’re faced with weeks worth of one-word responses that put you straight off - the thought of him shutting you down one more time almost toppling you over the edge of insanity.

And you could call, but it fills you with the same sort of dread. The last time the two of you spoke on the phone had been when Jack was injured - when you’d offered to be there for him if he needed you and he’d sort of snapped at you.

And sure, emotions were high, but things haven’t really been the same since that conversation. They haven’t been the same since the kiss, but there’s a part of you that doesn’t really want the burden of all the blame on your shoulders for once.

There have been countless opportunities for the you to clear everything up, but there have been chances for him, too, and you’re starting to think that maybe the two of you are far too content to let each other suffer instead of actually communicating your feelings like adults.

And after you spend the whole day after the game you missed dwelling on that fact, you’re grateful for a little reprieve when you get a text from Ethan, in town to talk about his own career, who wants to go out for drinks to toast to everything - to spring break, to your NYU acceptance, his devils contract.

He drops a pin for a bar in Hoboken, and you and Ellie make your way down together, meeting up with him and a few of the other guys to celebrate, and it’s the first night in a while that you feel like you don’t need to stress about anything.

You manage to push Luke to the back of your mind for a while, sat in a booth beside Ethan as he shows you pictures of the apartment he went to look at a couple days ago, his plans to move over here coming a lot sooner than yours, but apparently the building have vacancies coming up in the fall, and the two of you talk about how weird it is that you’re gonna be close, again. 

You’re joking with him about his hookup with your sorority sister Megan, threatening to bring her over as your roommate and giggling into your hand through a drunken buzz, when the one person you’re trying to forget for a second appears out of nowhere, standing beside the booth as he looks down at the two of you with an unfamiliar sadness in his eyes. He looks a little run down, dressed in a hoody that stretches across his shoulders, and donning a baseball cap that’s probably supposed to keep his presence lowkey. 

“Lukey boy!” Ethan exclaims as he stands to greet him, the two of them doing that brotherly fist bump and hug that all guys do, “Thought you were too beat to come out!”

“Changed my mind,” he shrugs, eyes glancing back at you. “You mind if I sit?”

“Nope,” you shrug, nodding to the opposite side, where he slides in, and his knees knock against yours under the table.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Ethan tells him, winking over at you as he backs away, your eyes wide as you watch him retreat before you look back at Luke, the silence around you almost visible in animated ellipses that dot in the space between the two of you.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” He asks, tone surprisingly bitter as his eyes darken, and you feel your defences build despite them usually being so weak in his presence.

“We’ve always been friendly,” you frown, “Since when are you so rude? What happened to hello, how are you?”

“I don’t know, probably since you started avoiding me,” he juts out his bottom lip, leaning into the back of the booth and stretching his hands out on the surface, “Hard to stay nice when you come to town without telling me and send Ellie to a game I specifically invited you to.”

“You told me you didn’t want to hang out with me,” you scoff, uneasy with how quick this entire conversation is escalating. You’re a little tipsy, but there’s no excuse for how he’s so quick to snap at you. 

“That’s not what I said and you know it,” he huffs.

“No, I don’t know it, because you’ve been avoiding me too,” you bite back, “Why are you being such a dick all of a sudden?”

“You kissed me,” he leans forward onto his elbows, eyes dark under the shadow of the bill of his cap, and you feel a shudder run through you at the intensity behind his gaze, at the memory the mere mention of it invokes - combined with the rasp in his voice, it’s taking everything in you to fight the urge to do it again. “It was barely 3 weeks ago, and now you’re here, without telling me, and you won’t talk to me, and you’re all buddy-buddy with Ethan all of a sudden-,”

“You pushed me away,” you snap back, eyes narrowing to mirror his, “You told me I was making things harder for you, and that I should move on, and then you started avoiding my calls and sending one word responses to my texts, you don’t get to sit there and be an asshole to me just because I’m hanging out with somebody else.”

“So that’s what this is,” He points over to where Ethan is lingering at the bar, no doubt flashing those puppy-dog eyes to the girl behind it, a charming grin cast her way as you can see her blush from all the way across the room. ”This is you moving on?”

“Ethan and I are just friends,” you frown, watching as Luke’s jaw tenses in response, clenching at either side of his face in a way that would usually turn your mouth dry. “I’m not moving on, we aren’t dating.”

Luke’s eyes are stormy when they meet yours - strained and serious as he weighs up your response. “Neither were we.”

The next breath you take is sharp and jittery, gaze still fixed on his from across the table - and despite the proximity of your bodies, him leaning forward, and you just about doing the same, and the urge you had mere seconds ago to close the gap between you, you couldn’t feel any further apart. 

You see his hands shift in your peripheral, long fingers picking at the label on Ethan’s empty beer bottle before his gaze shifts down - guilty and withdrawn. You can’t look away, though - you need to properly look at him, you need to try and see some lifeline you can cling to, here.

He’d pushed you away back in Michigan. He’s been distant, since - too busy for calls, too avoidant for any attempt at a lengthy text conversation. He’s irritated, now - even if he won’t say as much - you can tell by the heavy set of his jaw, and the way his eyes narrow whenever Ethan is too close.

“What were we, then?” You ask before you can think better of it, before some internal part of you convinces yourself that his answer will only serve to hurt you. You’re not going to get anywhere by holding back, anymore.

He’d drank from that cup all those months ago back at that party. Never have I ever been in love. He’d looked you in the eyes as his lips pressed to the red plastic, and he’d watched and waited for you to respond. 

And everything that happened after that will never erase the memory of that heated look in his eyes - piercing straight through the flames in the middle of your circle of friends, burning into the very depths of your being and warming you just enough for the months that followed. 

All the talk about being only friends, of getting any other feelings out of your systems one last time and pretending to rinse them away - it was that night out in the yard of the hockey house that kept things alive, you think.

Knowing that somewhere down the line, despite everything you put each other through - despite the insecurity, and the jealousy, and the pain - he loved you, and he might possibly be the only guy who ever has. The only guy you ever want to.

“Friends,” He frowns as he continues to pick at the sticky paper, tearing the corner until it starts to peel, briefly glancing up to meet your eye as he asks, “That’s all we’ll ever be, right?”

You gulp, your own gaze dropping to the surface between you, eyes tracing the rings of condensation on the table left behind from the chilled bottles. 

“I don’t know if I’m good at being friends,” comes out somewhat instinctively, your brows furrowing as the circles your eyes were mapping seem to hypnotise you into unprompted vulnerability. “I’m having a hard time moving past what happened last summer, I think,” you admit, a rattling breath following, hesitant to do so but needing to get it out, to make him understand that none of this is easy for you - letting him go and moving on isn’t some minor thing he can simply suggest to make things better. It’s not possible. “I feel like it’s always in the back of my mind when I’m with you, like I can’t let it go.”

Spilling secrets by the fountain at the country club, kissing in his car when he’d pick you up from work, pulling over on some deserted side road where no one could see, splashing at him in the lake, the sun rays bouncing off the water and bringing out the sea-glass shade of his irises. Trying on stupid disguises in the thrift store at the mall together, his hands on your waist as you danced together at his cousin’s wedding, defending you to his brother whenever Jack tried to pick some stupid fight with you.

It all plays like flashes from a movie at every given opportunity - the second you give your mind a chance to wander, it travels straight back to those weeks spent in his company, to a time where you’d shared a connection so intense that it permanently altered some deep, previously untouchable part of you. 

“I thought that I could just push it down,” you sniffle, “I thought that being friends might help me forget, but I can’t, it just feels harder.”

He mutters your name, softer and quieter than before, but the intention is there to say something as a rebuttal, you can tell by his tone.

You don’t really have much fight left in you, though, not anymore.

“And you were right, back in Ann Arbor, it’s not fair to you.”

“That’s not what I meant-,”

“It is,” you resign, “I don’t know how to be your friend, I don’t know what I want anymore, and I can’t keep pretending and making everything worse for you when it would just be easier if we,”

“If we what?”

“Stopped.” You croak, every muscle in your throat working to resist the words from actually working their way up and coming out. “Whatever it is that we’re trying to be, or trying not to be. So that you can move on, like you want.”

You chance a quick glance up, vision blurred by a thick wall of tears, and meet his startled gaze.

“Is that what you want?” His voice shakes a little as he asks, breathy and reluctant - like he’s bracing himself for your own response to hurt.

It doesn’t really matter what you want, you think. You’ve long lost any right to fight for it - not when it comes to him. You had your chance in summer, to open up about all the things you were starting to feel, and you chose to push them down. You don’t even know why, anymore.

You really thought there would be something left to salvage of your relationship with Luke - something to cling to so that he couldn’t push you away, something that got the two of you back on track, especially after talking to his brother, last night - but now that you’re here, everything just feels wrong. It all feels like a stab in the dark, like you’re no longer familiar with the boundaries of what is or isn’t okay with him, and that leaves you feeling lost, again. Like even the slightest attempt to bridge the gap is one giant wasted effort.

And you know all too well where this feeling gets you - too afraid to put your heart on the line, you hide it away, lock it up and throw away the key so that no one can even attempt to get to it again. 

He doesn’t want to hang out one-on-one, away from the safety of using Ellie and Jack as a buffer. He doesn’t want to watch movies like you used to, or talk on the phone, or even be within 5 feet of you, it seems. He’s annoyed that you’re close to his other friends, he’s annoyed that you’re around at all, you think.

He doesn’t want you anymore - he shuts down every thought of being anything more, and he can talk all he wants about blurring lines and still being friends, but you know how this plays out. 

He wants to move on, he’s said so too many times now for you to discount it or try and find a work around. And when he moves on, and he finds some other girl, like Yasmin, or even Victoria, who doesn’t push him away, or make his life hard, or knows how to express her feelings without saying or doing the wrong thing, he’ll have no use for you. 

His brothers will like her, and he’ll show her off to his teammates, and their relationship will expand beyond a phone screen and the distant, foggy memory of something more. And it will be easy.

And he deserves that.

He deserves so much more than you’ve ever been able to give him. Maybe if you saw that sooner this whole thing wouldn’t be such a mess. Maybe if you’d been more accepting of your blossoming feelings in the summer, and you hadn’t been so insistent on maintaining control, everything wouldn’t have spiralled so far out of reach. 

Ellie might have seen your interest, Cole might have turned his attentions elsewhere, and Luke would never have said those things about you to try and deter him. And then these last few months would have been easier, too. Your walls would have long been knocked down, your defences weakened, and you’d have just let him in like you’ve always wanted to.

And Luke wouldn’t have gotten tired of trying, just like you predicted all those months ago.

“I think your brother was right, the other day, about the movie, and people being hard work. I want you be happy, Luke, and you said it yourself, I can’t make you wait around for me to figure shit out, you have enough going on without me making you feel like this.”

You feel a shift when you look at him again, a slump of his shoulders as he leans back into the booth - something like resigned acceptance - and you can’t help but be reminded of the exchange that started this whole ordeal.

Him on the other side of a booth in the restaurant at the country club, a hopeful gleam in his earthy irises and his chest puffed out in what you remember thinking seemed like a facade of arrogance, with something much gentler beneath the surface. Things had been much lighter then. Playful and easy. And you don’t think it’s been like that for a long time.

You did that, you think.

You sank into the dark, murky waters of your own insecurities and you dragged him straight down with you - and now it’s time to set him free.

The silence that follows your words is awkward, maybe for the first time ever with him, in a way that makes your skin itch with a prickly heat. You had been so intent on speaking to him, before, and now all you want to do is leave so that he can’t stretch this out, or leave so you don’t have to sit here and watch him not even try. You want to run. Scream. Cry, even. Do anything but wait around for him to agree.

“I’m sorry,” comes out croaky, and broken, and you blink out the tears that blur your vision, feeling them run their course the whole way down your cheeks until you swipe them away from your jaw.

“Me too.” 

You want to tell him he doesn’t have anything to apologise for. You want to tell him that you’re the problem, and that you shouldn’t have led him on for as long as you did - but you don’t really want to keep going in circles with this conversation.

You just want to go.

And you couldn’t be more thankful when Ethan comes back, oblivious to the tension between you and his best friend, pushing another bottle across the table and sliding into the opposite side of the booth, right next to Luke.

“So, Lukey, are you gonna let us in on all your favourite spots around here for when we’re both back in the fall?” He slings an arm over the back of the booth, falling naturally above Luke’s slumped figure, and you straighten up in your own seat.

“I’m gonna go find Ellie,” you say, shuffling out from your own side, smiling meekly when Ethan frowns at you, not even daring to look Luke’s way. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

And then you walk away, because that’s all that’s left to do - and when you find Ellie, she takes one look at you, and she knows.

Eyes welling with tears, lips trembling - a mirror image of the girl she found back in your shared room that afternoon of her party, back in the summer - and she ushers you out of the bar and holds your hand the whole way back to your rental, your head on her shoulder as you try not to sob in the back of a taxi. 

For all the times people in his life have called him an idiot, Luke has never felt as stupid as he feels right now.

Watching your teary eyes from across the table, able to do nothing but stare back at them, speechless and spineless as you finally throw in the towel, as you finally admit what you’ve been holding back this entire time.

That you can’t move past what happened in summer.

That this whole time, you’ve been trying to distract yourself from how much he hurt you, how much he fucked up, and all he’s ended up doing is hurting you again. 

I feel like it’s always in the back of my mind when I’m with you, you had said, like I can’t let it go.

Like he can never take back all the stupid shit he said to Cole when he was jealous and immature - like he still can’t handle those sort of emotions when he’s around you, and he lashes out when you don’t even deserve it, all because he can’t handle seeing you with anybody else. 

He doesn’t even know why he came at you so quick.

All he remembers is seeing a photo on an instagram story of the guys at the bar, of seeing you and Ellie crouched in the front, carefree, giant grins etched into your faces, and all of a sudden he was walking in.

And you were smiling so sweet, your nose scrunching up and your body shaking with laughter as you sat beside Ethan, absolutely no space between you in the booth, and he had felt something ugly consume him before he even had a chance to realise what was happening.

And now you’re gone, and his heart is pounding in his chest, and the sound of your soft voice uttering one final apology is echoing around his head.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asks from beside him, leaning forward until he appears out the corner of his eye, and Luke shakes himself out of the trance you put him under. 

He mutters your name, and Ethan’s head tilts in confusion until Luke asks, “Are you into her?”

“Into her?” Ethan’s eyes widen in alarm as he almost chokes on a sip of his beer. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, a pathetic attempt at nonchalance that he can tell doesn’t land as soon as he does it, “You looked close when I came in, and she said you went to the movies together the other week. Got food after, sounded like a date to me.”

“Interesting observation,” he scoffs, “Considering all you two do together is watch movies and eat.”

Luke frowns, especially when he looks over properly, and Ethan is smirking at him. He feels like he could throw up. “She’s my friend,” he says, although he supposes that’s not really true, anymore, but he’s sick of having to explain it to everybody. “I’ve told you like a million times.”

“Mine too,” he snickers, and Luke can feel his blood start to boil a little at the implication that your relationship with Ethan might at all be similar to your relationship with him. “She’s a cool girl.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees, a nauseating sense of deja vu washing over him, soaking him to the bone in remorse.

She’s a really cool girl, Cole had said, back toward the end of summer, really funny.

He feels the same swirls of panic stirring in his chest, a stutter to his heart rate that has him holding his breath to try and correct it, somehow. 

“We’ve just been hanging out a little more the last few weeks, ever since I took her home,” and the mention of that night back in Michigan makes him feel worse - that swirling feeling evolving into something sinister, catastrophic, even. He’d upset you and you’d turned to Ethan for comfort - you’ve continued to turn to him, since. And Luke had really left you no choice but to do so, so upset at the thought of the two of you together that he shut you out, entirely. “I guess we got closer throughout this year, but it’s mostly been in a group, like at parties or whatever. She’s a lot different to how I thought she’d be, especially when it’s just her, we get along.”

“Yeah,” Luke breathes, monotonous and slow, because he can’t really muster much else.

He could probably cry, if he thinks too hard about it. Could probably break out in a sweat and hyperventilate, and all that’s stopping him is the nails digging into his palm to keep him grounded to reality.

He had you, he thinks, back on that porch outside the hockey house, and he let his own fragile ego get in the way, once again. Just like back in the summer, when he had you, and let this panic and jealousy consume him, turn him into something ugly and cruel, saying things he never meant, or never had any right to divulge.

“I think uhh,” his jaw feels tense as he speaks, like something in him doesn’t want to carry on, but he fights past it, “I think a lot of people have the wrong idea about her.”

“How do you mean?”

“People judge her based on what they think she’s like, but they don’t really get to know her.” He relaxes back into his seat, a little, trying to alleviate the growing tension in his spine. “I’d say she doesn’t really let them, but people don’t try hard enough. It’s like you said, she’s really cool.”

“Funny, too.” Ethan smiles a little, and the look in his eyes brings the essence of tears to Luke’s, almost.

“Really funny,” he agrees, pushing through the way his throat feels like it’s closing up, lips twisting up into some attempt at a smile. “Really quick, not even just telling jokes but like, she can just read every situation as it’s happening. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation where she hasn’t made me laugh, even if she’s trying to bite my head off or something or I’m not really in the mood to be laughing.”

Ethan nods along, like he could possibly understand what Luke means - but maybe he can, Luke worries. Maybe that’s what you’ve opened his eyes to, while the two of you have been growing closer this year with him being none-the-wiser to your budding relationship.

“And sure, she’s snappy, but she’s like,” he pauses, a breathy chuckle as he fights the swelling of his chest, now, too, “the most caring person I’ve ever met. You feel it, too, even when she is biting your head off or whatever, she’s doing it because she thinks it’s just as much fun for you as it is for her, and she just wants to keep you hooked. And sure, it takes a while for her to warm up, but when she does it’s like, I don’t even know, man, like her smile,” another pause, and Luke smiles a little more, himself, the upturn of his lips coming so naturally that he can’t tell he’s doing it until his field of vision narrows a little, “She has this smile that’s all slow and cute, and I swear it could thaw ice or something corny like that.”

“She’s got a cute smile,” Ethan agrees, but the way he’s looking at Luke makes him feel a little too seen, and so he straightens back up in his seat before he can sink any further. “Not sure it’s worth losing one of my closest friends over, though.”

“You wouldn’t,” Luke gulps, trying to swallow past the growing lump in his throat at the mere thought of you and Ethan together, a feeling that’s achingly reminiscent of how he felt about you and Cole - sick to his stomach. But this had been the problem before - thinking he has any sort of say over how you move forward with anyone that isn’t him. “I just want her to be happy, I know you’d look after her.”

He’d told you to move on. He’d told you he couldn’t wait around for you to figure things out. He’d shut you out, forced you to close yourself off to him, accused you of only wanting him when you think you’re losing him to someone else - and here he is, falling apart from the inside out, once again, at the mere thought of you with anybody else.

He’s a hypocrite, and he hates himself for it - he’s going to lose you because of it. Maybe he already has.

“You’re an idiot,” Ethan scoffs, mouth curving up at one side in amusement. “You’re seriously gonna sit there and say you want me to ask her out? You want me to date the girl you’re very clearly in love with because at least I’d look after her?”

“C’mon, E-,”

“Like she needs looking after?” Ethan’s dark eyes narrow as he levels Luke with an incredulous glare. “You know if she heard you, she’d beat your ass, right? Trying to auction her off like some sort of prize, are you insane? I swear to God, the two of you are borderline painful, you’re as bad as each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I honestly thought you were both just being oblivious, or something, but it’s like you’re actively trying to sabotage yourselves, you need to talk to each other, you need to tell each other how you feel.”

“I know that you slept with her,” Luke blurts out, eyes wide as Ethan’s face curls up in horror, “I saw you come out of the house with her the morning after the party,”

“Whoa-,”

“And it’s fine. Not that either of you need my permission,” Luke scoffs, “But I’m not blind, E, she was with you the night Jack got injured, too, she was smiling at you tonight like she hasn’t smiled at me in forever, I just want her to be happy, and if that’s not with me-,”

“I slept with Megan,” Ethan interrupts, “The night of that party, I dropped her off like you asked, I went back to the house, and I hit up Megan because we were hooking up for a while before she got all crazy on me. You remember her, right? The girl with the tattoo of her cat?”

“You were hooking up with a girl who had a tattoo of her cat?” Luke frowns, distracted momentarily until he realises what’s happening.

“She’s in the same sorority,” Ethan scoffs, “What you saw was her sneaking me out of the house because I got stuck upstairs and Megan wouldn’t help me.”

“But the movie, and the pinball,” Luke fades a little, brows furrowing as he tries to piece together whatever the hell he’s managed to fabricate between you and Ethen this entire time - weeks of avoiding you for nothing.

“We just bumped into each other at the IMAX, she seemed a little down, so we hung out after. Like friends do. Like you’d probably know, if you talked to her. You really thought that either of us would do that to you? That girl is crazy about you, Luke, she pretty much cried the whole walk home because you didn’t tell her you liked her.”

“She what?”

“Kept asking me if you’d said anything about being into anyone, she was being all cryptic and weird, I tried to imply you were into her, but clearly it didn’t help.”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, muttering repeatedly as he remembers that night, remembers what Quinn had tried to tell him, remembers everything from the past 6 months, all at once. He runs two shaky hands through his hair, trying to squeeze at his skull to stop the influx of regret that’s starting to vibrate in there, incessant and relentless, like it will never go away. “I need to go after her.”

Luke pushes gently at his best friend, frowning when he doesn’t budge. 

“E, I need to apologise to her, I need to talk to her,”

“Tomorrow.” Ethan advises, “Her and Ellie knocked back like a whole margarita pitcher together, you don’t want to do this when she isn’t in the right state of mind.”

Wrong.

He wants to do it as soon as he physically can.

And he’ll do it on the hour every hour until you’re sober, he thinks. 

“Trust me,” Ethan pats at Luke’s leg, a brotherly gesture that does little to calm his nerves. “Take tonight to think about what you want to say, and say it tomorrow.”

Luke hates that he’s right - just like Quinn had been right all those weeks ago.

He can’t do this out of impulse.

He needs to do it right.

When Ellie knocks on your bedroom door the next morning, she’s merely a fuzzy blur through your puffy eyes, and you can barely muster a smile as she walks in with a cup of green tea and a slice of toast for you.

“Thanks, El,” you croak, voice thick with sleep, and maybe dry from the salty rim of the many cups you drank from last night - or the way you cried for maybe an hour until you eventually drifted off.

Ellie had been your literal shoulder to cry on when you got home, letting you sob and finally release months worth of pent-up frustrations as she listened, taking it all in while she stroked a gentle hand through your hair.

You told her everything - about halloween, and christmas, watching movies over FaceTime and spiralling over them alone in your room after he hung up. You told her about texts that made your knees go weak, and calls that lasted until the early hours of the morning, and sleeping in Luke’s arms when you finally saw him in person. You told her about the gifts, and opening up to Luke about your family, and kissing him on the porch back at the hockey house.

Then you told her about the aftermath. About distancing yourself from him to let him move on, about him distancing himself from you because you’re too much of a mess for him to make sense of, and then about that conversation in the bar - about finally letting him go.

She just let you air it all out until it exhausted you - tucked you into your bed where you sobbed into your pillow for a little longer, and promised to talk more in the morning.

And you suppose that’s what this is - breakfast in bed, a soft smile sent your way as she lowers the tray onto the sheets in front of you, muttering a short, you’re welcome, as she perches herself on the end of the bed.

The two of you make a little small talk as she watches you eat, concern in her eyes and hesitance in her posture, and you figure you must have freaked her out a little too much last night - probably still freaking her out, now your face still swollen from all the crying.

“I’m sorry about last night, El,” you sigh once you’ve swallowed your last bite of toast, pushing the plate away. “I feel like such an idiot, you get a free pass to say I told you so, or whatever.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” her lips twist, unsure and uncomfortable, as she shuffles against the footboard. “It wouldn’t be right after what I did.”

“What you did?” You frown, “What do you mean?”

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Ellie shrinks away a little, face scrunching in anticipation of some poor reaction, and all you can hear is the persistent thudding of your heartbeat - still reeling from last night, a little. “I was just trying to help.”

“Help with what?” You blink slow as you watch her, eyes drawn to the way her lips twist and turn, tugged between her teeth as she tries to work through whatever it is she wants to tell you.

“It was sort of Jack’s idea, initially,” she starts, “I mean, I guess I took it a little too far, but he’s the one who brought it up-,”

“Ellie-,” you warn, the anticipation of it all only making things worse.

“He thought if the two of you felt like you were losing each other to somebody else, you’d realise you actually wanted to be together, and you’d stop forcing the whole friend thing and make the next move.”

“I don’t understand-,”

“He said he tried doing the same thing last summer, when he was being an idiot about asking me out. He took some girl from the club on a date, picked someone that he knew you’d find out about, but I guess you never did, ‘cause you’d have told me about it and I’d still have a dent in my head from where it would have hit the roof.” The nervous chuckle she gives does very little to lighten the mood.

“Right,” you nod along, muttering out the affirmation despite the fact that you’d done the complete opposite. 

You never told her about Jack and Jessica, the girl from the club last summer - who you and Luke had spied on in the earlier days of your scheming. It was for her own good, though. You didn’t want to hurt her over something that clearly wasn’t worth her time. Jack was being an idiot, that much was obvious at the time - even without the context you now have that he was trying to get caught - and so you feel less bad about lying about the whole thing.

Although, your eye starts to twitch a little at just how ridiculous this whole thing has started to become.

“So he pushed Luke to date this Yasmin girl for the same reason?”

“Not exactly,” Ellie winces, “I think he tried to get him out of the house one time just to test the waters, but nothing ever came of it. And then Jack got busy with the tournament, and Luke came out to Michigan, and I felt like I had to take the reins a little.”

“Take the reins on what?”

Your tone must unintentionally reflect just how tired you are of this whole thing, because Ellie cowers a little, eyes glassy as she skirts around what it is that she wants to say.

“I need you to understand that I felt really bad about the whole Cole thing, okay?” She says, “And then ever since summer, you haven’t really been yourself, you know? Like you don’t wanna come out anymore, and you’re letting school get to you, and you don’t talk to me about stuff, even when I know that it’s bothering you,”

You look down, your own lips pressing together to try and ease the tension elsewhere in your jaw. 

You have been a little more reserved, but it’s not entirely because of how your summer ended. And it’s not like you weren’t coping, entirely - you just weren’t running to Ellie like you normally might have. 

Maybe it was unintentional, the way you had shut her out, even since the start of summer, but that doesn’t mean it would have affected her any less. Guilt starts to nip away at you from the inside out, her meek response heightened when you lifted your gaze back to watch her. 

“And I just thought maybe you needed someone to look out for you, to give you a little nudge in the right direction, I didn’t realise it would have made things worse.”

A nudge - just like the kind of nudge you and Luke were supposed to be giving her and Jack last year. 

You’re starting to get a headache with it all, the way you seem to have come full circle in the worst possible way - where the universe throws you Ellie and Jack of all people to try and gain some semblance of order to your life.

It’s tragic.

“What are you even saying?”

“There is no Yasmin,” she blurts out, “I made her up.”

You blink slow, feeling as your face slowly contorts with confusion - lips turning down, brows scrunching together, little creases forming in the side of your nose. “No,” you mumble, shaking your head as she stares, wide-eyed and panicked, back at you. “I saw her instagram. He liked her pictures.” 

“I’d imagine that was just some random girl he follows,” she shakes her head with a grimace, “Dumbass likes every post he sees on his feed, I think.”

You gape back at her, your eyes widened in shock and your heart racing in your chest, because what the fuck?

You’ve been pushing him away this whole time to move onto a girl who doesn’t even exist?

“And I know I should have told you sooner, but I got swept up with all of the Jack stuff, and I,” her lips tremble as she stares back at you, apologetic and regretful. “I didn’t realise how bad it got between the two of you. I didn’t know it would end up like this, I was just trying to make things better again.”

You stare down at the empty plate at the bottom of your bed, and all of a sudden you can feel every swallowed bite swirling around in the pit of your stomach. “I feel sick.” You slur out, pushing yourself up off the bed and stumbling towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you fall down against it, and you can hear the soft patter of feet as Ellie follows behind.

“I’m sorry,” she cries through the wood, “I know that I should have known better than to interfere, but I just-,” she hiccups then, and you resent just how much it affects you, guilt and shame swirling around with the nausea. “I wanted my best friend back. You haven’t been the same since summer.”

And you sob, yourself, because you know that’s true.

You’d admitted it to Luke, last night, when you had told him you didn’t think you could ever get over it.

And now you’ve lost him.

You can’t even blame Ellie, either.

She had planted the seed, but you’d been the one to water it - constantly avoiding having to have a difficult conversation with him until everything boiled over, until it was too late.

You could have talked to him at the party, the night you kissed him. You could have told him there and then that you loved him, because you knew it as sure as anything, but you didn’t. You could have told him at any point since then, and you never did. Because you were scared, and insecure, and weak.

Ellie calls your name from inches behind you, soft and shaky, and the thought of ruining everything with her too is too much for you to handle. 

You need to get out of the bathroom, need to get out of the house, need to get away period. 

You just need space, and you know exactly where you’re going to find it.

Luke has never been more thankful for a day off in his life.

And he’s never been more proactive in one, either.

One of the biggest joys usually comes from turning off his alarm the night before. No morning skate, no practice, no training, no meetings, no game to prep for.

There’s just you, across town, thinking he doesn’t care enough about you to stop you giving everything the two of you have up.

So his alarm had stayed on, shrilling beside his head at 7am, and he shoots right out of bed, not even putting it on snooze for four times before he gets himself up.

He makes breakfast, eggs and avocados on toast, brain food as his mom might say, and starts to think about what he’s going to say to you - making notes on his phone like it’s some dumb presentation - until he feels satisfied that there’s enough of his heart in it to actually make an impact.

He’s done letting his emotions control him.

The two of you are going to figure this out, and it’s going to work out - he’s sure of it. He has to be. 

And just as he’s about to leave, Jack appears from his room, also dressed and ready to face the day, quirking his brow at the abnormal pep in his little brother’s step.

“What the hell’s got you so jumpy this early in the morning?” He asks.

“If I tell you, I don’t want to hear a lecture about it.” Luke huffs, because this is the last parade he would ever let his brother rain on, and he’s kind of worked himself up to the point of delusion. Jack just nods in response, and Luke can’t help the giddy smile that breaks out right before he says, “I gotta go see about a girl.”

Jack’s eyes widen, and Luke feels like he’s been punched in the gut when his lips quirk up, preparing himself for the blow of being laughed at by his own brother.

But what Jack says, instead, is even weirder.

“Let’s go then.”

And Luke practically stumbles over himself to get the two of them to his car, the weight of his brother’s approval pushing him further than he ever wanted to admit that it could, his entire body buzzing as he drives them over to the rental you and Ellie are staying in, and he tells Jack about his plan on the way.

He tells him how he’s gonna get you out of the house, gonna take you on a walk, somewhere, where the two of you can finally talk things out, and he’s gonna tell you how he feels. He’s gonna let you speak, gonna give you the time you need to figure things out - he’s gonna lay his heart on the line, and he’s gonna be a man and let you decide whatever it is you want to do with it.

You say you can’t get over the summer, but you don’t understand how much he regrets it, how much he loves you, how he’d never hurt you like that again. And if you turn around, and you don’t feel the same, then he can do whatever you want, but at least he’ll know he tried - at least you’ll know what you mean to him.

Jack gives him pointers, like he’s ever gonna take love advice from a guy who took like 3 years to ask his girlfriend out, but Luke just nods along with a smile on his face, too in his head with the hope that this could finally be it.

And that hope carries him all the way from one side of Jersey City to the other, airy and light, until he’s knocking on your door and waiting for you to finally open up for him - and all of it drains from him the second he sees Ellie’s teary fave on the other side. He’s too confused by the situation to notice when Jack brushes past him to comfort her, and he finds himself looking around for you again, that light, airy feeling growing heavier by the second.

“Calm down,” he hears Jack coo, “It’s alright, what happened?”

“We got into a fight,” she sniffles, “Or I don’t know, a disagreement, I guess. I was gonna give her a little room to breathe, so I went to my room, and then she left, and she’s not picking up her phone.”

Luke feels the colour drain from his face, a dizzying wash of panic flooding his system that causes his chest to swell. He reaches for his phone before he even realises what he’s doing, fingers knowing the way straight to your contact and pressing on it within seconds, the call reaching voicemail before he even lifts the device to his ear.

“It must be off,” he frowns, the swelling worsening with every second that passes. “She just left? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“She was pretty upset,” Ellie tells him, tears welling in her eyes as her face twists with guilt, “I really, uhm,” she runs a hand through her hair as she turns away from him, taking a few pacing steps to distance herself, “I really fucked things up, I think.”

“Fucked what up?” Luke asks, following by instinct to close the gap, trying to get her to look at him just to get a read on the severity of the situation. He’s witnessed a couple of your arguments with Ellie - mostly minor irritations that you come to him to talk you through, and it’s never been bad enough for you to get seriously upset over it. Not like this. And Luke has known Ellie for a long time, too - had seen all the ups and downs of her relationship with Jack before they ever got together. He’s never seen her like this, and dread pools in the pit of his stomach. “What happened?”

“I uh,” she takes in a trembling breath, staggered and shaky and doing little to make him feel any better as he hears it. “I thought I was helping. I thought she just needed a push, or something, like someone to guide her-,”

Luke can’t imagine a world where you would need guidance on anything. Headstrong and self-assured, he can’t picture what on Earth would make Ellie assume you would need her to push you.

“I swear, I thought I was doing the right thing. I wouldn’t have gotten involved, especially after summer, you know, I felt really bad, and I just wanted to try and fix it somehow, but she never tells me anything, so I didn’t realise she was kind of getting there on her own and I think I just made everything worse.”

The mention of summer makes him wince, Ellie’s words all merging together into one long, confusing blur of excuses that don’t quite make sense, but this has to be about him, somehow, he thinks - because you would have told him about anything else happening in your life, something else that might have happened in the summer. 

Ellie felt bad about the whole Cole thing - that much seems obvious. Lending her efforts to him asking you out, being the catalyst to the whole thing blowing apart from the inside, out. But how could she ever possibly fix that? Especially considering he was the master of his own downfall, in the end.

“What did you do?”

When Ellie’s eyes meet his, they’re flooded with remorse, round and watery and it does little to quell the panic continuing to rise within him.

“I told her you were seeing somebody else.”

Luke feels time stop, his heart coming to a screeching halt, and all thoughts wiped from his brain until all he can hear is your voice, soft and small and vulnerable as you tell him, “I don’t want to watch you move on.”

“I just thought she needed a wake up call, or something, like if she thought that there was the potential that you were moving on she might have finally realised that holding back this whole time was doing more harm than good, but I don’t know what happened, she just shut down, after-,”

“After what?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t know why, he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to both questions he poses Ellie’s way. “When did you tell her that?”

“Before the party back in Michigan,” she gulps, “Before you left.”

Luke stumbles back a little, hands finding purchase on the back of the couch, needing something to steady him, to ground him before he spirals out of control. 

“Jack told me that he’d been trying to get you to move on, that he took you out with the guys, that you were just flat out rejecting the idea of even speaking to somebody else, and I just thought-,”

“You knew about this?”

“No,” Ellie is quick to defend him, quick to take responsibility, for once, “Well, sort of, but he told me not to do it, and I didn’t tell him that I did, so he’s not to blame, here. I thought if I just said that you were moving on then she wouldn’t have believed me, so I made somebody up, but I guess you’re following some girl with the same name on instagram, and you liked a couple of her pictures, and last night she kept saying that you don’t want her anymore, that all she can think about is how much she loved you back then, but you don’t feel the same,”

I’m having a hard time moving past what happened last summer, I think

He thought you meant the Cole thing. He thought you meant you couldn’t look past his mistake. 

I feel like it’s always in the back of my mind when I’m with you, like I can’t let it go.

You weren’t talking about the bad stuff.

You were talking about the rest of it.

And now all Luke can hear in his head is little snippets of conversations from the past few weeks. I want to, which he now sees as an admission of your feelings when he had asked you to let him in. Are you moving on? After he had turned you down for that art installation, wedging an insurmountable gap between the two of you while you assumed he was seeing some other girl. He’s hard work and she isn’t cut out for it, and the way you so quickly gave up when it came to Jack’s stupid outburst.

All of that had been with idea of him already having moved on. 

All of that, and you still refused to do so, yourself.

Oh no.

“I was just trying to help, Luke, I swear, I just wanted to help her. She just lets things pass her all the time, for as long as I’ve known her, she gets all in her head, and she doesn’t let people in, and she was doing the same with you, and I just wanted her to take something for herself, I wanted her to win, I didn’t realise it would become this huge mess-,”

“Stop,” he huffs, because he can’t let her blame herself, not entirely - he made a mess of this, too. He’d jumped to conclusions, after the kiss. He hadn’t let you speak, hadn’t let you come to terms with what you were feeling. He’d misunderstood your intentions and jumped down your throat, and let his own hurt in the situation stomp all over yours. He hadn’t talked to you, despite all the times he had been urged to. 

“Where would she go?” He asks, trying to shake himself into action. “Does she have any other friends around here, did she mention anywhere to you that she might escape to?”

“No,” Ellie whines, “She only came here for the first time in October, the only places we mentioned were lunch spots, I don’t think she ran off in tears for a bagel. The only person I could think of was you, but you’re here.”

Luke wracks his brain through the last few conversations the two of you had - and all he hears is the multiple opportunities he had to clear everything up. The multiple attempts you made to bring things back to normal - to bridge the gap he had forced between the two of you.

Movie nights, coffee shops, the game the other night, the art installation.

The art installation.

“Did she bring her laptop?”

You can’t really pinpoint where your obsession with space started.

It’s probably somewhere between laying awake at night, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars your dad had stuck to your ceiling, and a field trip to the Henry Crown Space Center - and the two memories are probably a lot more linked than you care to think about, both providing distractions when you needed them the most in life, but you’ve never experienced anything like this.

You’d found out about this exhibit on TikTok of all places, putting the you in for you page to work when you first started seeing it on your feed, saving every video that came up. Destination Cosmos originated in Amsterdam from what you could find, and you’ve wanted to go for years. It feels like fate, almost, that it would be in New York for one week only while you’re just across the river for spring break, and missing out on it would have been your biggest regret since coming out here - which considering the events you’re actively trying to escape from, is probably saying a lot. 

Maybe if you’d have sold it a little better to Luke than just being an art installation, he might have come with you. Maybe if you’d done a lot of things differently, he might have come with you.

As you stand in the centre of the universe, projections of everything you’ve spent your whole life admiring only from afar, chasing something you still don’t understand, you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt in your life.

It’s overwhelming, almost, how lost you feel now.

On your own, in the middle of an exhibit you’ve been dreaming about for years, in a city you don’t really know, but are going to be moving to before you know it, with all other aspects of your life imploding in calamitous fashion around you. The way the images flash across the walls - stars, planets, nebulae, supernovae - make you feel like you barely even exist, and you hate it. 

You’ve never felt so alone, so afraid of what comes next, and all you want is for someone to reach out and shake you until you don’t feel it anymore.

And when somebody actually does, when the soft but familiar mutter of your name brings you out of your reverie, and a gentle grip forms around your wrist, you gasp, yanking your hand away like the touch burns.

You have to be dreaming, you think.

There’s no way you haven’t slipped into some sort of coma, or something.

Maybe you missed a low ceiling somewhere on your way into the exhibit, hit your head and knocked yourself out.

Because there’s no other explanation for how Luke Hughes could possibly be standing before you, in front of the most beautiful backdrop of glistening constellations, other than you imagining the whole thing.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, taking in his frantic form - chest heaving with rushed breaths and his baseball cap askew, probably from where he keeps taking it off to run his hands through his hair. 

“I uh-,” he pants, blinking slow as if you’re just about coming into focus. “I came to see about a girl.”

You blink back, brows pushing together as he takes another step, “What?”

“Good Will Hunting,” he clarifies, “Declarations of love, I know you hate them but I uhm-,” he frowns, cringes, even, like he’s thinking better of doing this already, and you wait with bated breath for him to string his thoughts together. “I’m doing this wrong, I think.”

“Luke-,”

“I was trying to think the whole way here of some sort of speech, like one giant combination of all the soppy, cheesy movie quotes you love so much. Y’know, like, uhh,” his bottom lip juts out as he takes a second, and all you can do is watch, “Like a megamix or something.”

“A megamix?”

“Yeah, like a little How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, a pinch of Notting Hill, just this huge shit show of the corniest garbage you’ve ever heard in your life.”

“Sounds great.” You frown, a little lost on how he went from declarations of love to corny garbage in a matter of seconds. 

“Probably would be,” he nods as he takes another step, and you fight the urge to retreat, your feet staying firmly in place and your arms wrapping around yourself in some twisted protective stance. “But all I can think about is that one scene in When Harry Met Sally, y’know, when she’s all frizzy and crying on her bed, and he’s there to comfort her?”

“I don’t really remember,” you mutter, although you have a vague recollection. “I only watched it that one time and I was a little distracted.”

“I watched it 8 times.” He tells you, “Could probably talk you through the whole thing.”

“You don’t have to-,”

“So Sally’s just found out her ex is engaged,” he starts, anyway, and you don’t even have time to question why the hell he watched that movie 8 times. Once was enough to scar you for life. “And she’s like sobbing to Harry, and saying all these things about how she was just a transitional person, and she thinks something’s the matter with her, ‘cause her ex never wanted to marry her.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“She says, I’m difficult,” he mimics her voice, somewhat, a soft smile curving at his lips as he recalls the scene, “And Harry tells her, you’re challenging, and every time I watch it, I think of you.”

Ouch.

He must see the way your face drops, because he takes another step, and the distance between the two of you is so small now that you could conceivably touch without reaching - if he stopped making out like you’re a problem, that is. 

“‘Cause that’s when they kiss, right?” He asks, and you nod, hesitantly, because you sort of remember it a little better, now. “That’s when he realises how deep he’s into this thing with her, and how right he was that they could never be friends.”

“I guess so,” you pout, your chest clenching at the mere mention of your friendship - the one you had denounced only a day ago, and are still very freshly mourning the loss of. 

“And then I think about the other night, about what Jack said.”

You’ve already gone through this whole thing with Jack, you really don’t want to do it, again. Not here, not now, especially. “Luke-,”

“He shouldn’t have said any of that stuff to you, and he was being a world class dick, but he was sort of right,” he tells you, a crooked smile cementing itself into his features as he reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear as it falls forward, leaving you to watch in confused silence as amusement flashes across his irises, despite the fact that it’s not remotely funny. “You are hard work.”

“Did you seriously come all the way out here and hunt me down just to tell me that?” You scoff, something within you switching as you unfold your arms and reach up to push his hand away. “That all I do is make your life hard, you don’t think I already know that?”

He grabs yours, instead, intertwining your fingers despite your resistance, and smiling even deeper. “When did I ever say I want things to be easy?” He challenges, his other hand rising to the opposite side of your face, cupping at your jaw and lifting your face until your eyes meet, “I love that you’re hard work.” And just as you scoff, just as you try to argue such a ridiculous statement, he continues. “It makes being with you and you letting me in all the more rewarding, like I earned it. I’d like to think that I did, too. I’d like to think we’ve come really far from where we started.”

You gulp down the urge to tell him you agree, still a little confused by this whole speech, where one second he’s comparing you to a sobbing emotional wreck, and the next he’s suggesting you’re sort of a nightmare. Still confused by how he found you in the first place, but it feels too late to ask, now.

“Ellie told me about Yasmin,” he says, and you swear the way your heart skips a beat is wishful thinking, your mind praying that the ground will just swallow you up. You were embarrassed enough without him knowing about it, too - that you got all in your feelings about some girl that never even existed, enough to end up ruining everything with him over what turned out to be nothing. “And Ethan told me about Michigan, about how you were upset that I didn’t tell you how I felt.”

What? You’d been upset he hadn’t told you about Yasmin, who you now know doesn’t exist, not-

Oh, Jesus Christ, you think, too embarrassed to even react. Ethan had been talking about you. 

Anybody could see from a mile off that he is into somebody.

“It doesn’t even matter-,”

“Don’t do that,” he pleads, desperation flashing across his eyes, stunning you a little into submission. “Please don’t do that, not about this.”

“Luke-,”

“I love you.” He says, voice sure and steady, a little louder than he’d been speaking before but you can’t really find it in yourself to care. “I’m in love with you. I don’t think I’ll ever not be in love with you. And there’s no Yasmin, there’s no Victoria, there is nobody else and there never will be. That’s what I came all the way out here to say.”

That’s a little better than whatever the hell he was saying about a megamix, you think. 

“That there’s only you.” He’s still sure, but quieter now, like a whisper that’s only meant for you to hear. “That I love you, and it matters.”

He’s giving you this heated look, like he can see every single cell of you - like he loves every single cell of you - eyes dark and intense, and you can’t look away, too entranced by whatever hold he now has over you - barely able to even form a cognitive thought, let alone voice one.

“I love that you’re weirdly nerdy about space,” he maintains a hold on your cheek, his touch soft but his presence solid, and uses his other hand to gesture around you, to the spectacle around you - to the vibrant projections of planets on walls that seem to extend light years right around of the two of you. “And that of all the places in New York you’d even want to go during your last spring break, this was the only place on your list. And despite that, somehow I’m the dorky loser out of the two of us.”

You feel your lips quirk up, still gazing up into his eyes, your own wide and watering as you watch him continue.

“I love that you never mind spending time with me, even if it’s just watching movies, or watching hockey, or eating, and you always know what food I like, even though you complain that I eat more than any human should. I love that I never feel too much for you, or too little, or too loud, or like I’m not saying enough. You call me an idiot all the time, sure, but you never make me feel like one.”

Everything around you turns into a blur, now, beyond trying to blink away your tears as they slowly start to trickle from your lower lashes, Luke’s thumb coming to swipe at your lip when one settles there, offering a soft smile that makes your heart melt in place - this warm, sticky sensation spreading between your ribs.

“And I love the way you look at me,” his voice is so soft that it makes you feel boneless, and you think if he didn’t have a hold on your face you might just dissolve into nothing, “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who actually sees me.”

You love that about him too, you think - the first tangible thought you can muster as he does his best to turn you into complete mush in the palm of his hand. 

“I love that you make the 600 miles between here and Michigan feel like nothing. Like I miss you all the time, but you always make it seem like you’re here, even when you’re not, as stupid as that sounds.”

It doesn’t sound stupid. Not at all. It’s crazy how much comfort Luke has given to you just through a phone screen for the past 5 months, like he’s been with you the whole time, all those worries about your relationship being too weak to withstand the distance that you had at the end of summer dissipating almost instantaneously.

“And I’m sorry I keep giving you reasons to think otherwise, but I’ve never felt this way about anybody before. I love you so much it makes me crazy, and it makes me do stupid things, and say shit that I don’t mean, but I mean this, I need you to know that, as insane as this whole thing is I’ll say it all again and louder if you need me to.”

Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, the trembling breaths you take to try and alleviate it providing very little relief, and Luke watches you with bated breath of his own, wincing a little in anticipation as he waits out some sort of response.

You reach up to the hand that rests on your cheek and peel it from your skin, fingers clasped around his palm and tugging it away carefully until you can bring it down. You step just a little closer - close enough that you’re looking up, close enough that you can place his hand against the rampant thudding in your chest, and hope that the proximity of him now helps calm you - helps build the kind of courage it takes to stand in front of the person you love and lay your heart on the line, like he just had.

“I love that your version of a declaration of love starts out as you calling it a corny garbage megamix,” you tell him, hesitant but hopeful, like you’re testing the waters, watching as his eyes start to well up too and relief wracks through him in a visible shudder. “And that you watch some movie 8 times on your own because it makes you think of me.”

He huffs out a breathy chuckle, the smile that takes over his face is unwavering and it spurs something courageous within you, fingers intertwining with those on his free hand and smiling straight back. 

“I love that every text you send me is a triple text,” you snort, “Like you couldn’t possibly just type out a paragraph, you have to send me every single thought as it passes through your brain. Like I’m the first person you want to come to about anything and everything, it makes me feel like you value me, it makes me feel good. And I love that you make everything lighter, and easier, and you never let me sit in my feelings, or let anybody make me feel bad.” You think of all the times he has defended you - to Jack, to yourself, even. He’d been so sure of you getting into your graduate program, more than you had ever been, and the stress around the whole thing seemed to dissolve whenever he was around. He’d backed you up when Jack went on his weird tirade at movie night, and has apparently been doing so the whole time Jack’s tried to sabotage things between the two of you. “Even if you do agree that I’m hard work.” Your lips twist in amusement as he dips his head a little, but you understand what he meant - where he was going with what he said. 

“I love that you make me second guess myself,” you tighten your hold on him a little, “And you make me think differently, think better. I don’t feel afraid or unsure when I’m with you, not about the real stuff.”

He tightens his hold, too, readjusts his fingers where you’re clutching at them until he can move your hands to your sides, pulling back until you’re touching, almost, chest to chest. 

“And if you asked me a year ago if I ever thought I’d want the boy I love to hunt me down in a dorky space exhibit, I’d have probably curled up and died from embarrassment at the thought,” you snort, “But I wanted to be here because it reminded me of you. Because you call me a dork, but you never make me feel like one, either. And because I used to want to feel like nothing when I thought of this stuff, but now I know that I don’t want to feel small, or insignificant, or unimportant,” you’re so close now that your voice is like a soft hum, stretching up on your toes and untangling your fingers from his for them to find purchase on his chest, helping you balance better. “I want to feel like I matter, and you’re the one who taught me that I do.”

You break eye contact only to watch the slow roll of a tear down his cheek, one he doesn’t even bother to wipe away, not afraid to show just how much it means to him for you to say all of that stuff back. 

“I love you, Luke,” you almost-whisper, but the lack of volume does little to lessen the meaning behind the words, and your eyes drift back up to meet his, “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

“Can’t believe you just outdid my own corny declaration of love.”

“Consider yourself megamixed.” 

“Shut up,” he laughs, the sound rumbling all the way from the depths of his chest and into your lips as he presses his own into them, fingers curling around the back of your waist as he pulls your body flush to his, and you think you see the swirling stars even when you close your eyes, a bright burst of colour consuming your brain until it’s all that you feel.

You kiss him without a single care in the world, forgetting that you’re in the middle of an exhibit, and that people might see, or stare, or think that you’re crazy. You love him, and you’re done hiding just how much.  He kisses you back the same, with intensity and intention, like he’s trying to cement all those wonderful words he said to you before into the core of your being. 

When you pull apart, slow enough that you barely separate at all, you watch as he smiles, swollen lips curved all the way up, the slight flash of teeth, cheeks balling up and his eyes creasing in the corners, and you feel your face mirror his, your noses pressed together and your hands still clutching at the shirt on his chest.

“Y’know,” he breathes, a slight rasp to his voice, “I was kind of right about one other thing.”

“What’s that?” You ask, backing away to give the two of you the slightest bit of breathing room. 

“This feels like the perfect place to take somebody on a date.”

Your smile deepens, somehow, big enough to ache a little, and when you rush and stumble out of sheer instinct to kiss him again, his hands are primed to catch you. 

And they don’t let you go for the whole 90 minutes you spend exploring the exhibit, where the two of you learn all new things about the universe and everything beyond it, and for the first time in a long time - the first time maybe ever - you let yourself believe that everything is going to be okay from here on out.

School might be hard, but you’ve worked almost the whole way through it with an end in sight, and a you’re building a life for yourself that you’ve never been so excited to live. 

Your parents might be shitty, and they might not show up when you need them, but you have other people who do. 

You have Ellie, who, for all her faults, has always been there to fall back on. She lets you spend the summer with her, with all intentions to have you stay the whole time, even if the two of you ended up elsewhere, and lets you impose on the holidays - shares all her traditions and never makes you feel like you don’t belong there. She cares so much about you that she goes a little crazy, but you think you’d rather have it that way than not at all.

You have Ethan, and you have Quinn, who both refused to fall for everybody else’s misconceptions of you - who encouraged Luke to persist when you gave him a million reasons to give up, and who were both in your corner without you ever even knowing about it.

And you maybe even slightly have Jack, who was just trying to look out for his little brother, like he’s so used to doing in all other aspects of Luke’s life, and who was willing to admit he was wrong despite how much you know it pained him to do so.

Everything in your life leading up to now might have jaded you a little, might have skewed your perception on what it meant to be loved, but you have Luke, now, to clear it all up. 

Luke, who is dorky, and unserious, and loud, and uncoordinated, and acts out of impulse sometimes in ways that hurt you, but cares about you too much to ever leave you behind. And that, yes, he’s someone who doesn’t leave, but he’s also someone who comes back - who keeps showing up for you despite you giving him a million reasons not to.

Luke, who persistently slips in through the cracks of your long-caged heart and cements himself a place so deep in there that you’ll never get him out - you won’t ever want to.

Luke, who you love, and who loves you back, and who tracks you down in the next state over with a bunch of ridiculous movie references and makes you regret ever telling him you were freaked out by declarations like that, because you’ve wasted far too much time now trying to convince yourself you were a cynic.

Luke, who told you all the way back at the beginning of summer exactly who he was - who he was always going to be, and you were just too stubborn to listen. 

Luke, who is, and always has been, inevitable.

When spring turns to summer, you find yourself back where it all started, your eyes fluttering open at the familiar sound of tyres rolling across the gravel driveway of the lake house, sun beaming harsh enough through the windshield that you have to squint against it, and your heart hammering in your chest.

It’s been a few weeks since you last saw Luke - when he’d surprised you at your graduation, and had helped you box up all your stuff back at the sorority, and the anticipation of a promise he’d muttered into your lips on your last night together has been the only thing keeping you going while you were back in Chicago with your mom.

The whole summer, he had promised when he invited you to stay, and I’ll even be your chauffeur again. 

The thought of coming back to the place you fell in love, with the boy you fell in love with, and getting to experience the beauty of it all through eyes that finally let you truly see it makes your heart do little somersaults in your chest - a feeling that’s only exacerbated when you climb out the car to see Luke sat on the stairs leading up to the front door, waiting for you.

You feel the weight of his crooked grin even from a short distance away, a warm, gooey sensation spreading throughout your entire body as you run straight for him, ditching Ellie to get out the car on her own time and leaping into his arms. 

You press frantic kisses wherever you can reach, and he holds you up so that you don’t fall, your legs wrapping securely around him as his glorious laughter rings out into the air around the two of you - your lips against his cheek, and his jaw, and his forehead, his nose, his eyes, even, and finally his mouth, where he matches your enthusiasm like he’s been waiting the whole time to do so. 

“You missed me, I take it.” He chuckles, lips moving against yours as the words fall between your lips, and you hum back, kissing him again as a response. 

“Get a room, that’s disgusting,” you hear the bitter scoff of Jack as he brushes past the two of you and heads straight for Ellie. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Luke mumbles as he carefully lowers you back down until your feet touch the ground, “I got us a room, I even put some things in there for you, do you wanna go see?“

“What about my bags?”

“Your bags can wait,” he smiles coyly as he grabs at your hand - tugging until you’re following him into the house, and up the stairs, a layout you could still follow with your eyes closed. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache in the best way, a stupid, lovestruck grin taking over your face as he guides you towards his room - your room too, now, apparently, and holds the door open for you to walk in.

It’s pretty much exactly how you remember it, the big window looking out over the pool at the back, the lake in the distance, and a soft breeze causing the curtains to flutter gently. 

There’s the bed in the centre of the room, where you slept for the first time beside him, the same navy sheets, and you bet they still have the same soft linen smell to them, the same detergent kept in the laundry room downstairs. There’s the dresser to the side, where he once kissed you so stupid you never thought you’d think straight again. And the en-suite, where you first taken things a little too far with him, not that you regret any of that now.

The summer you’d spent so long trying to squash down is here now, larger than life, impossible to suppress or forget. And the boy beside you is the same. 

You can’t fight the smile as you turn to him, his eyes glinting back at you the same way they have ever since that day in the exhibit, a light in them that you don’t think will ever go out.

“What did you put in here for me?”

“Nothing, it was just an excuse to get you up here,” he chuckles, advancing on you before you even realise he’s doing it, hands sneaking around your waist until you’re pressed flush to his body, and he’s dipping his head to kiss you again. “But if you want to go shopping later, we can get you some stuff. Make it feel more like your room, too, add a feminine touch, or whatever.”

“A feminine touch?” You scoff, grabbing at his t-shirt and turning the two of you until you can push him down onto the bed. “You gonna let me paint the walls with rainbow sparkles?”

He scoffs, thighs tensing as you lower yourself onto them, straddling his hips and grabbing at his hands so that they can’t hold onto you like he wants. “If that’s what makes you happy,” he smiles up at you, dorky and adorable. 

“I’m happy,” you tell him, leaning in and kissing him slow, and sweet, unable to help when your lips curve up where they are pressed to his. “I will put one feminine thing on the list, although I don’t know anywhere around here that might sell them.”

“What’s that?”

“Pink fuzzy handcuffs,” you smirk, leveraging your hold on his wrists to lift his arms and press them back down into the bed, heart racing at the way he looks up at you - like you’re the entire universe. “So I can tie my pretty boyfriend to our bed.”

And then you lean forward again, pressing the curve of your lips back to his, revelling in the way his laughter ripples out into your mouth - swallowing it down until it swirls like petals in the depths of your stomach, cinematically swept up by a soft breeze, dancing and falling in slow motion.

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

“Definitely.”

A/N: guys I could hardly warn you above for the cheesiest ending you'll ever read in your life without spoiling the whole thing, but if a guy professed his love to me at destination cosmos, I'd melt into a pile of water slime or something. this is honestly so wild, and probably repetitive, and might feel rushed and insane towards the end, but I feel like it needs to be, because these two are insane.

I hope you guys are happy with this lmao, I've had a lot of fun torturing you the past few months!! a lot of LIH callbacks in this final chapter, if you can pick them out ily, it really feels full circle, and like the right ending for both of them, so I'm praying you guys enjoy it as much as the rest!!

Ending this series is bittersweet, because I truly do adore these two idiots, they have a place in my heart forever, and if they have a place in yours, I would welcome any asks/conversations about them in the future!!

Again, thank you. I don't really know how to end this without being a blubbering mess at how much I love you all for getting me here!!! Being able to finish something like this, and be genuinely proud of it, isn't something I've ever done before I came on this site, and your support of my writing, whether it be LIH or OYS or anything else, brings me so much happiness I can't even describe it.

[jayhyunglover]

Homewrecker

Pairing : Caleb x reader

Synopsis: him being lowkey jealous over your fictional crush

Content: slightly suggestive , kissing , Eren mention , fluff, crack fic

A/N : A big thanks for @erensfeed for feeding my delusions (now I am on my way to lit up candles and pray so he can be real) .Edit: I wrote this in physics class then went about how does 8 inches of dick fit inside because of how long that is with my guy classmate 💀💀

“And she was like : “no Eren shouldn't have betrayed Zeke like that” and I was like: “ girl have watched the same show ? He didn't have any other choice” you continued to ramble about your latest hyperfixation while Caleb's eyes were glued on you , often giving you a small nod to show you he was listening and paying attention.

“I was actually so mad like why are you calling my man a mass murderer! I mean he kinda is but he did it for his loved ones isn't that romantic?” your voice was filled with exasperation and disbelief as you threw your hands in the air but Caleb wasn't listening anymore his mind fixated on 2 words.

“Your man?” He cocked one elegant eyebrow at you . You tilted your head slightly to the side puzzled by his sudden change in mood.

“Yeah, I mean he's dead so I guess that makes me a widow” you chuckled but Caleb wasn't having it , not only you called that Eren guy your man but you considered him as your husband. What does that make him?

You let out a small gasp as you felt your back hit the mattress  followed suit by Caleb's large form looming above you .

“Does that make me the homewrecker?” He asked in a short puff of breath against your neck.  

You wriggled beneath him , the heat of his breath making your skin tingles.  

“Dunno” you shrugged with a smile that made his frown deepen. Your eyes sparkling with mirth at the prospect of your usually composed boyfriend jealous of a fictional character.  “Are you jealous?” 

He let out an half hearted laugh before kissing the tender skin of your exposed neck.  The small brush of lips was enough to make your heart melt and your pulse to quicken  

“Jealous?” Another tender kiss was placed on the top of the valley of your breasts “hardly, after all..” his hand bunched the material of your shirt to leave another kiss on your stomach before raising his head to gaze down at you “I am the one who get his wife writhing under me every night” he whispered hotly against your skin . 

Your cheeks flamed bright red , your eyes bulging out of their sockets as you kicked him off you with a scandalized “Caleb!” 

He laughed heartily before climbing back on top of you to rest his head on your chest so you could play with his hair . 

“You're still a homewrecker though” you voiced out after a while fully expecting him to fuss but he just shrugged 

“Doesn't matter , I'd hide you far away so he wouldnt be able to find you” he murmured against you, his words muffled by your chest . 

“You're gonna pull a mother Gothel on me?!” Your cocked an eyebrow at him , your lips stretching into a wide smile.

“Hmm but I'd never leave you alone” he raised his head from your chest to look down at you , his lilac eyes filled with adoration and unwavering devotion “I'd always stay by your side” he whispered before pecking your lips .

“Always, you little unfaithful wife” he teased earning a scowl from you but it quickly melted away when you felt his tongue tracing the seam of your lips , his hands cupping your cheeks to deepen the kiss.  

"Always"

[popironrye]

❣️ Judge Me ❣️

❣️ By My Blorbos! ❣️

I've had many many fictional crushes over the course of my life. But there are a few that have stuck with me. Comfort characters, if you will. :3 Characters I enjoy and crush on, but also get a great deal of joy out of seeing.

So I thought it'd be fun to lay out some of them for complete internet strangers to see. Whether to agree with my tastes or question my upbringing, that's up to you XD

Gonna say now, this is a tag FREE FOR ALL! I don't know who to tag specifically, but I want ALL my mutuals to share your f/os too.

I wanna see everyone share their own fictional crushes/comfort characters.

The Vampire Bois from "The Lost Boys": ⚰️🩸

Ardeth Bay from "The Mummy": 🦂🗡

Crowley from "Good Omens": 🐍🍎

Teddy Lobo and Dracula from "Renfield": 🦇🐺

Karl Heisenberg from "Resident Evil 8": ⚙️🚬

Victor Creed form "X-Men Origins-Wolverine": 🐾💀

The Creature from "Lisa Frankenstein": 🪓🪱

The Captain from "Hellsing": 🌑🔴

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - seo changbin (2nd to lose)

-> pairing : changbin x fem!reader

-> words count : 3,4k

-> genre : smut, gym crush

-> warnings : changbin is whipped for you, semi-public sex, teasing, dirty talk, praising, protected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering, a little bit of degradation + the way i'm depicting changbin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

Hyunjin loss made Changbin very confident in his chances to win this bet. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and he knew he was able to contain himself. When he was in a situationship with someone, he was insatiable. But it wasn’t the case right now, problem solved.

Or at least, problem solved until you enter the equation. You’re the only thing that could lead him to lose and the only reason why he has been going to another gym since November started. Because he knew that if he saw you, he was screwed. You were always teasing him. You were always wearing shorts that rode up your ass with every move you made. You were always ending up letting go of your shirt and exposing your breast in a sports bra. You were always asking him to help you in a way that he had to touch you. And all of that will, without any doubt, bring him to his breaking point. 

So he avoided the gym he usually got to in order not to give in. He missed your body, the way you looked at him as if you wanted to devour him, your habit to bite your bottom lip just after teasing him. He missed you. But he couldn’t take the risk. And moreover, you never mentioned it. You never clearly told him that you wanted him like he wanted you. Maybe he was being delusional from the start and that was only him. But he was not ready to have this conversation now, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. He had always been respectful and he planned on standing by that. 

Tonight, though, he really needed a good session at the gym. It was late, very late. He just got out of the studio, and he wanted to clear his mind. He needed it, in fact. And since it was not your usual schedule, Changbin thought you wouldn’t be there. But you were. And now, he couldn’t really turn back and run away. You saw him. 

He closed his eyes, wondering if he would be able to survive this. Because as soon as your eyes landed on him, you smiled brightly before approaching him. Now that he was seeing you after only a week, Changbin was starting to understand how important you were for him. Yes, he had the biggest crush on you, but not just because of your body. You were kind, careful, and he felt safe with you. Somehow, you were always able to make him talk and comfort him about anything and everything. He wanted to take you out. But he also wanted to bend you over one of the bench and fuck you dumb. 

“- Hey Changbin ! It’s been a long time ! How you doing ?”

He gulped, trying to compose himself. Your voice was doing things to him he didn’t want to think about right now. 

“- Yeah, I know, sorry for not warning you. Been busy these days…

- Don’t apologize, it's fine ! Well, I’m gonna let you work out but… I’m happy to see you again, kinda boring without you.”

You laughed at your own words, sending him one of these looks that made him feel like he was a chocolate cake you wanted to eat until the last crumbs. You came back to working out, and so did Changbin. But honestly, he spent most of his time staring at you. He almost forgot what you looked like, all sweaty in your gym clothes. And he wanted nothing more than to tattoo this sight in his memories forever. 

Changbin hoped you’ll let him work out in peace for once, it was already taking him all of his self-control not to get hard just staring at you. But you didn’t listen to his silent prayers. You came to him, like every other time before that, asking him to help you out with your stretching. He just knew it was more teasing. He knew that you would find a way to get him hard, like every time. But he gave up, like every time. 

He followed you to the place where you left your bottle of water and your towel, watching you sit down and spread your legs before leaning in between them, waiting for him to push your back. Changbin took a deep breath before placing his hands on your skin, feeling it warm under his palms. He held back the urge to let them wander to your breast, and just applied pressure to help you go further. And of course, you left out the dirtiest moans while doing so, playing it as if it was only a sign of your struggle. But Changbin knew. He knew that was just another way of teasing him. Suddenly, he standed back up on his feet, his hands leaving you. 

“- I- Um… I have no more water left, I’m just going to fill it up in the bathroom.”

And with that, he escaped as quickly as he could, not noticing the proud grin on your lips. But he clearly noticed that he was getting really hard just because of you making some suggestive sounds. Gosh. Why didn’t he just skip the gym tonight ? Changbin took some minutes to calm down, or at least, trying to do so. But all he could think about was your fucking voice, moaning his name and begging him. So, yeah, it was pretty difficult to cool down under these circumstances. 

When he finally found the courage to come back to you, you were doing some other stretches. A one that exposed your ass to him. And he immediately got hard again. Changbin sighed. He would never hear the end of it, but he had wanted you for too long and the frustration started to really annoy him. So he said your name, asking you to come with him to the changing room because he “had a problem”. 

“- So what’s the matter ? What do you ne-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt your back hit a cold surface and soon enough, his hands were next to your head, preventing you from leaving. Your eyes dived into Changbin’s ones. They were darker than you've ever seen them, and it turned you on. 

“- Changbin ?”

Your hesitant tone made him unsure of what he did for a second. Maybe he misunderstood your behavior ? But you stared at his lips a little bit too long, and he knew he was totally right. 

“- Don’t play dumb baby. We both know that’s what you wanted for the longest time, isn’t it ?”

You shivered at his low voice. It did something to you. His voice, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw was clenching as if he was holding himself from saying or doing something. 

“- And what will you do about that, hm ? Shut me up ? I would love to see yo-”

Once again, he didn’t give you the chance to say another word. But this time, he interrupted you with his lips. They crashed on yours, and he kissed you hungrily, as if he wanted to do that for years. You moaned in the kiss, letting go of all the tension that builded up in your body. He added his tongue to the mix, leaving you breathless. You could have come only from the feeling of his hot mouth against yours, of his big hands on your waist pushing you onto his hard cock, still covered by his shorts. 

“- Stop teasing now, or I won’t be kind. 

- Don’t want you to be kind Binnie… Want you to be rough.”

He groaned at your words, gripping on your waist and spinning you around, pushing you while kissing your neck until your knees hit the bench behind you, sitting down on it. You raised your eyes to see him setting himself between your legs, spreading them wider with his knee. He was so fucking hot. And all you knew at this moment was that you wanted him. So bad. 

“- Then suck me off. Now.”

You watched him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help glaring all over the room to be sure no one was there or hearing your conversation. It was late, and you were probably the last ones here, but still, it was not 100% sure.

“- You… You sure you want to do that here ?”

Seeing the panicked look on your face, Changbin prepared himself to be the pervert of the year in your book. 

“- Y-Yeah… I mean, only if you want it too. We can just forget what happened if you want. I’m fine with th-

- I’m more than fine with that, just wanted to be sure you were.”

This time, you cut him off, but he’s not going to complain. Not when you were smiling at him while undoing the knot of his shorts. Not when you were sliding his clothes down his thigh and looking at his cock with adoration. Not when you took it in your hands and licked your lips as if you wanted to eat it. 

“- So big… Knew you'll be…”

Changbin groans once again and lets his finger play with your bottom lips, the one you always bite when you tease him. This time, it’s his thumb that you bit playfully, making him want to bury himself deep inside you right now. You let go of his finger and put your mouth to a much more useful activity. 

You started by just licking the tip of his cock, tasting him for the first time and almost moaning at the feeling. You wanted to do that for so long, and you were far from being disappointed. So you licked him all over, wetting his dick until it was practically dripping with your saliva. And just when Changbin was about to tell you to finally take him in your mouth, you did it. He growled and threw his head back, putting a hand in your hair, grabbing it firmly and making you moan around his cock. 

“- Keep going baby… You’re so good at this…”

As an answer, you started to bob your head on his dick, taking more and more of him in your mouth with every thrust. Soon enough, Changbin was only able to groan and moan under your lips, tongue and mouth, having just enough self control not to bury himself deep in your throat and cum right there. That’s why he forced you to let out of his cock, grabbing you by your hair and he could have come just seeing the fucked out look on your face, saliva smeared all over your chin and eyes shining with lust. 

“- Take off your clothes.”

You didn’t think twice before obeying, standing up in front of him and throwing away your sports bra, your shorts and your panties. In another situation, you would have felt exposed and ashamed. But with the way Changbin was looking at you -  like he wanted to devour every part of your body - you could only feel confident. 

You slid your hands under the hem of his shirt, grazing his firm abs with your nails. You saw him shiver distinctly under your touch as you helped him throw away his last piece of clothing as well with a smile. You could drool over his body for hours, but you would have time for that later. For now, you just wanted to feel him in you. And even if you were really turned on by the situation, it was risky and you had to be quick. So you kissed him again, bringing him with you to the cashier until your back was pressed against it. 

“- Turn around for me baby, hm ?”

It wasn’t a real question, and you were far too gone to register the fact you were going to fuck with Changbin in the changing room of the gym. No, this was thinking material for tomorrow morning. For now, you just did what he asked you to, whining when you felt his strong hands gripping your waist and his hard cock sliding against your wet folds. 

“- Can I- Is it okay if I-”

Changbin had to take a deep breath before going on with his words. It was already unbelievable for him to have you bend over for him like this, maybe he was pushing his luck.

“- Shit- Can I fuck you ?”

You giggled at his words, as if your wetness and all the noises you were making since the start weren’t enough to indicate him you were more than okay with fucking him, that you wanted it for a long time now. 

“- You’re sweet… Yes, you can fuck me Binnie, you don’t know how much I’ve dreamt about it…”

Changbin was glad you couldn’t see him right now, because he knew from the heat that was eating them up that his cheeks were red. His cock twitched at the thought of you, dreaming about him fucking you. Was all of that even real ? You opening the cashier next to you and searching in your bag until you handed him a condom made him come back to reality. It was more than real, and Changbin didn’t want to miss a single second of it. 

“- How long have you been keeping that with you ? 

- You wished you knew.”

He chuckled and proceeded to put the condom on his dick, making you shiver in anticipation. You were waiting for this since the first time your eyes landed on him, and it was finally happening right now. Changbin didn’t let you much time to think about it before pushing one finger in you. He didn’t expect you to be this wet though, nor did he expect you to moan and rock your hips against his hand. 

“- Please… Don’t tease Binnie…

- I- Don’t you need prep ?”

This time, you chuckled and glared at him upon your shoulder, just to appreciate the way his face was expressing his feelings ; surprise, yes, but mostly lust. And that turned you on even more, if that was even possible. 

“- No, just want your big dick inside me…”

Changbin growled before removing his finger and quickly replacing it with his cock, making you moan and closing your eyes shut. The feeling was so good, too good. It was overwhelming, in a way that made you want to fuck yourself on his dick until you both came. And you did exactly that, not noticing how tense the man behind you was, how deep his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips. All you were feeling now was him.

“- Changbin… Fuck- You’re so good…”

However, you felt Changbin hands gripping so hard you just had to stop moving, even if it was a literal torture to feel it inside you and being unable to move. You whined, almost sobbing because you needed him, you needed to feel him deeper and deeper with each thrust. But he didn’t seem to be eager to do that. 

“- Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight baby.”

You gasped at his firm voice, and you couldn’t help your walls clenching around him. His voice did things to you, it was a physical reaction, but it was enough to make him groan again. You stayed still even if it took all you had in you not to rut against him to try and get some friction. What you didn’t know was that Changbin was overwhelmed by the feeling of you. He needed a moment to calm down or else he would cum right now. And he wanted your first time together to be as good as possible for the both of you. 

“- Bet you’ve been keeping this fucking condom with you since the first day. Wanted me to notice you and your dirty mouth, hm ?”

You wanted to answer, but all that let out your mouth was moans as he started thrusting in you so hard you thought you would crash in the locker in front of you. Changbin was buried deep inside you, that was the only thing on your mind. 

“- Already going dumb for my dick… That was all you wanted all along, being all nice and kind just to get me there…”

You wanted to tell him something, to tease him too, but you couldn’t. You were only able to whine and moan his name as he kept moving in you at a steady path, rubbing this particular spot that got you to cry out quickly.

“- Changbin ! Fuck- So good…

- I know baby, you feel so good too… Wet and tight just for me, taking me so well.”

Your moans were enough for him to tell you were enjoying this as much as he was. Changbin was trying to sound composed, but he was on the verge of losing his mind just because of you. You were making him dizzy ; your warm cunt, your ass jiggling with every thrust, your moans of his name like in his wet dreams. All of that was driving him crazy, and adding the fact that he hadn't cum since eight days now, he knew he wouldn’t last long. 

But Changbin was determined to make you come before him, wanted to hear your fucked out noises first. So he sneaked his hand to your clit, rubbing it as roughly as he was thrusting in you. And then, you were losing your mind over him. 

“- Gonna- Shit ! Changbin… G-Gonna cum… Please…

- No need to beg baby, you’re gonna get it.”

However, it stroked his ego so much, knowing you were this intoxicated by him, maybe as much as he was by you. Changbin sped up his moves, both of his dick in you and his hand on your clit, making you come in a matter of seconds. He didn’t last long either, immediately losing it when he felt your cunt clenching so hard around him, moaning your name as he continued to thrust into you through both of your orgasms. 

The moment he pulled out of you after you both calmed down a bit, you started to put on your clothes back. Changbin felt his heart dropping to the floor. Maybe he was just fooling himself all along ? Maybe you just wanted a quick fuck ? Maybe you were regretting it ? Maybe you didn’t want to talk to him ever again after this ? He felt bad. Really bad. But he was also feeling like it was his only chance to finally ask you out. If you rejected him, he’d go bury himself six feet underground and would never come back here. But what if you said yes ? If he was standing a chance, even a little one, he wanted to take it. 

So he called your name as you were putting your shoes back on, as if you were really ready to get out and never think about this again, which made Changbin even more nervous if it was possible. But he had to do this. It was now or never.

“- Do you- Do you want to grab coffee with me ? We… We could like talk and hum… It could be fun, I think.”

He knew he sounded terrible and awful, and he could already hear Seungmin making fun of him for it. But for now, he was waiting for you to answer, the knot of anguish in his stomach tighter than ever.

“- Is it… Will it be like a date or something ?”

Changbin's eyes widened at your question. You were thinking he just wanted to do this with you once and go with his life like nothing happened ? He could never. He was already too into you to go back. 

“- Y-Yeah ! I mean, if you want it to be a date, then, yes.”

Your warm smile made the knot disappear, and the second he felt you pecking his lips innocently, his heart starting to beat faster when you looked him in the eyes. 

“- Then I’ll wait for you outside.”

You turned around and got out of the changing rooms, your bag on your shoulder and a bright smile on your lips as you closed the door to let him put his clothes back on. At this precise moment, he knew he didn’t give a fuck about the bet. No, he didn’t care when Minho teased him about it, saying back to him his latter statement, when he told everyone he would win just yesterday. No, he couldn’t care when he had you. And he would happily spend the rest of the month fucking you and loving you.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[energ00n]

Hey, Jazz anon here. Before I begin, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I was way too confrontational in my original ask because I was angry at the time, and as such I think it muddied my original point about tactness I was trying to make lol.

I'll try to keep this as short as I can, but I'd also like to go in more depth than my original ask so that I hope my point is better understood.

The point I was trying to make is that the writing choices we make in our narratives will always be indicative of the real world since we are real people writing from our own experiences. It doesn't matter what the setting is, or that "they're robots!," especially if we are dealing with a character that has parallels with the real world like Jazz. As such, it's very easy to fall into stereotype pitfalls when writing since everyone has been exposed to media that pushes stereotypes. I think we should ask ourselves why we are putting an unequivocally black character in a situation that is similar to real-world stereotypes of black men being used as an obstacle or road block in a relationship.

That is to say, I don't think you're racist. At all. I don't know why you said that I accused you of racism since even in my original spiteful anon I specified that I didn't think you were intentionally leaning into negative connotations about a black character. I just wanted to make you aware, but I admit, it was a poor explanation.

I'm going to address a couple quick points here that I have seen:

-"you just don't like jazzop!" No? Jazzop is unironically one of my favorite ships right now, which is why I want it to be portrayed well.

-"the AU isn't about racism" That's true, it's not. But that doesn't take away Jazz's blackness either, so I don't really see why the setting would change that.

- "Why did you not bring up Megatron?" I originally considered doing that in my original ask, but I was mainly too lost in the jazz sauce to include it in my original ask. But you said it yourself: Megatron is black, and as such, we should also be writing him with the same tact that Jazz deserves. I could divulge into the way that black men are similarly written to be hyper possessive in fiction, which also rubbed me the wrong way, but my ask is getting way too long and I think that it all ties back to educating yourself on common harmful tropes directed at black people.

I really hope this doesn't come off as pretentious because that was the furthest thing from my intention. Also sorry if I scared you with a freakishly long ask, I just wanted to have a dialogue properly. Thank you

I just woke up and my brain my be straying but I do commend you for coming back to expand upon your point. However you’ve still yet to answer my question: What tempting Jazz did to Orion?

If you’ve read my work beyond a few words, you’d know by now that this “love obstacle” doesn’t exist. Do you see your partner/crush having friends as an obstacle? Are you projecting? Jazz doesn’t “steal Orion’s away” (Doesn’t count if you turn off your brain and read everything through 3-word tropes). Not once did he take the initiative. It’s Orion who understandably wanted to hangout and catch up, it’s Orion who wanted to borrow the visor and took it before Jazz answered, and it’s D who suddenly views Jazz as an opponent upon sight. The whole thing wasn’t about Jazz being a home-wrecker, it’s about D and his emotional constipation, his insecurities.

Now that you actually mentioned Megatron, it’s extra ridiculous. Megatron, not TFO Megatron, MEGATRON, has been perceived as an angry possessive mf for years before TFO came along but the only thing you got out of it is this how we’re badly portraying black men. At this point I have to ask why are you so obsessive with racial stereotypes to such an uncomfortable degree? Did you think the movie was racist for making Megatron so aggressive and eventually became the villain too? You had to have because I’d start thinking you’re playing pick and choose.

I think I’m slowly seeing how you view things anon and it’s… pretty gross. You view them as their races before they’re characters. You diminish characters’ personalities, motivations and values just because they’re black-coded, you wouldn’t have a damn issue if I flip the table and draw SG!Orion being grossly possessive. To your own logic, black-coded characters should never be intense or have strong emotions, they should all be mild-mannered and I think that has a much more disturbing implications.

I want to clarify there’s a time and place where characters can really be used to harm folks of the minority group, like shit, I’m Asian, I know how it goes. But is this really the one? Really?? This AU? This AU even before I actually delve into its actual topic of racism in the story?? Dang.

I’ve said it a hundred times and I’ll say it again, I do not like cheap tropes, leave alone racist stereotypes. And you’re sitting here accusing me of not only tactless writing but also indulging in this ugly thing that’s not even a part of my culture. It’s not fun. You didn’t directly call me a racist but really, if you can conclude that Jazz was being portrayed as a picture of racial stereotypes from the handful of time he’s actually appeared, I can easily take how the previous ask pinned me as someone ignorant to my racism. Easily.

I think it’s high time we parted ways, anon. Clearly my story isn’t for you and I personally don’t want you around. I hope you’ll find a different media you’re more comfortable with

[taintandviolent]

Bliss ; Oz Cobb x Reader

summary: After trying a new drug at a nightclub, you lose your friend and run into someone else.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.5K | female reader, canon divergence (this kind of warps the events of episode 3 a teensy bit and uhhhh sorry about that, it's all in the name of spice), drug mention (fictional Bliss), technically mild dub con cos reader is hiiiiiiigh as shit but she's very into Oz, grinding, hook-ups, mentions of arousal (both parties), semi-public oral sex, blowjobs.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my last oz fic!! wahooo!!!! here's another, because i'm still obsessed with him! not beta-read or anything... just had to get this out. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“Open your mouth, honey…” 

You extend your tongue, obediently. The nameless (but very pretty) woman puts a triangle of translucent red candy on the meat of your tongue, and you draw it back in, sucking on it. It’s slightly sweet and melts straight away, leaving a slimy, almost syrupy finish on your tongue. You swallow it down, and look over at your friend, who had taken the Bliss before you had. 

It only takes a few minutes for it to hit and when it does, your entire body feels like it’s floating, your nervous system is buzzing happily while your friend’s eyes are glazed over, a delighted smile on her face. Everything seems to sparkle like the glitter that you’d dusted your eyelids in. “Holy shit…” 

“Yeah,” you echo, equally as shocked as she is. The feeling is indescribable, and you immediately understand why it’s called Bliss. You can’t recall the last time you’d felt this… elated. You’d smoked, you’d done ecstasy, but this… this was something else entirely. 

The two of you collide, crushing your bodies against each other as the music throbs in your ears, thumping in your bones. Your hands explore each other’s exposed skin, tasting it with your fingertips. You’re dancing with her, your ass in the crook of her hips… and then you aren’t. The presence is suddenly gone from behind you. You spin around, searching for her face in the crowd. You spot it as she turns to wave at you.

“I’ll be back!” She shouts, nodding excitedly as she disappears into the sea of people. “I’m going upstairs!” 

Even though you’re still riding the high, you don’t particularly like the concept of being alone. You try to chase after her, turning left and right to avoid the shoulders of other patrons. As you pass them, you see other people indulging in the same drug that is coursing through your system. It’s a collective high, you think to yourself, smiling. How cute. 

Finally, after meandering through the crowds for a few minutes, you spot a small staircase and make a beeline towards it. Your limbs feel jello-y, and you nearly stumble as you take the stairs one at a time. Just as your foot hits the last step, you hear a stern voice calling out to you. 

“Hey-hey, sweetheart.” A man gets to his feet, limping slightly as he takes a step towards you. His voice was heavy, commanding. Even in your intoxicated state, you could tell you were interrupting something. Fuck. Your head sweeps from side to side as you search for your friend. 

Oz takes another step towards you, watching you closely. You were a cute little thing, all dolled up and pretty, just how he liked ‘em… but you didn’t belong here. 

“This ain't an open invitation. You lost?” He nods his head, his scarred lips turning into a frown. 

“I…” You slurred, blinking slowly, a dreamy smile on your face. “I lost my friend… she said she was going upstairs… is this not… is this not upstairs?” 

He heaves a sigh, and seems to mutter an expletive under his breath. “Nah, doll, this ain’t upstairs.” 

You blinked again, pressing the back of your palm against your lips. You pause to shift your small purse back up onto your shoulder. “Shit…” 

Your eyes unfocus and focus again. The man in front of you is big in every way describable. Broad, tall, and his aura… it swallows you whole. He looks rich, dressed well. Dark hair peeks out from over his slightly unbuttoned shirt. You hum. You’d like to blame it on the drugs but you’ve always had a penchant for older men. Especially ones that looked dangerous… and he looked dangerous. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry…” A girlish giggle tumbled out of your throat. “I’m… oh god, I feel so good, I’m sssso sorry to interrupt your…” 

“You take somethin’?” He narrowed his eyes and nodded once. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, looking into his dark eyes. “That red candy… you got any more of that?” You perk up at the idea of prolonging this feeling.  Oz smiled at that, his gold teeth glinting in the light. An example had fallen right into their fuckin’ laps, and Zhao could see it firsthand. Your tongue jutted out at the corner of your mouth, and swept along your top lip, euphorically. He couldn’t help but stare, feeling the heat of arousal grip his loins.

“Gentlemen,” he said, diverting his attention before he stared too fuckin’ hard at you, his accent heavy. “As I was sayin’, Bliss is the new craze. The second it hits the streets, they’ll be bustin’ down the doors for it.” 

He steps out from behind the table and ambles his way over to you. Standing next to you, he’s even taller. You tilt your head back slightly to look – no, to gaze up at him. His face is aged, and deeply scarred – the biggest one disfiguring his top lip – but it’s hot. This guy’s been in a few, and you’re sure he’s got some stories. 

You giggle again, an absolutely delirious sound, and press your hand on the breast of his suit jacket, tracing tiny little circles on the fabric. “Hi…” 

He smirks, feelin’ like that cat that got the canary. A pretty little thing, whacked out on Bliss, fawning over him in front of Zhao and his gang? Priceless. Oz turns his head, nodding to one of the guys sitting at the table. 

“You think on our deal, and I’m gonna’ take care uh’ this one, huh?” 

You visibly preen at the fact that he’s leaving his meeting to ‘take care’ of you… whatever that entails. He could’ve just told you to fuck off, but instead he takes you by the shoulders, steering you back towards the stairs from whence you came in true gentlemanly fashion. As he guides you down the steps carefully, you look behind you at the booth to see the men, all solemn, watching you as you go. Just as they disappear over the wall, you see one of them lean over to discuss something with the others. 

God, his hands are fucking big on your shoulders.   

“Sweetheart – where’s your friend at? You can’t be wanderin’ ‘round this club like this. It ain’t–” 

“I’m safe now…” You lazily murmur, pressing your body against him. He’s wide and warm and you want to press yourself into him until you disappear. “What’s your name, big guy?” 

He swallows a lump in his throat. Your tinier body pressed against his has him feelin’ things he shouldn’t be feelin’, especially seein’ as he’s in the middle of one of the most important deals of his career. The crowd is undulating around the two of you, dozens of hands outstretched towards the ceiling as though it were heaven, sweaty bodies smearing against other bodies, washed in a bright red light. The song swells in your ears, its heavy beat forcing your hips to grind against the man in front of you. 

“We should dance. C’moooon. What’s your name?”

“Oz,” he says plainly, steering you around a corner, through the throngs of people. He’s in the middle of a deal, he has to keep reminding himself of that. This ain’t the time to pick up a new dame.

You repeat his name, drawing it out like a moan, hoping it sounds as good as it feels on your tongue. Another giggle, and you reach up to stroke the side of his face. “C’mon…. Dance….. With me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel him pitch back slightly, stiffening against you. You reach up and wrap your arms around his broad neck, pressing your breasts flush against him. The warmth of his body immediately penetrates the thin fabric of your satin dress, seeping into your clammy, sweat-streaked body. It doesn’t occur to you that he’s not much of a dancer. 

“Sweetheart, c’mon.” He looks over your shoulder, prayin’ that your friend will show up. You’re making it harder and harder to focus. “Where’s your friend at? Huh? ” He’s persistent. You try to frown, but your smile is too strong. 

“I don’t know, silly… I said I lost her. That’s how I found you…” Your hands are still wrapped around his neck, tugging as you let some of your body weight fall, sliding against the front of him. He has no choice but to put his hands on your hips, to hold you up slightly. The touch has you reeling. “What’s she look like?” 

You ignore his question. Besides it’s not like describing her in a sea of people who match the description will help him locate her. 

“Don’t you wanna’ touch me, Oz…?” 

That hits him and he looks down at you with a glimmer in his eye that wasn’t there before. Fuck. Guy like him? Doesn’t get this kind of attention all too often. So yeah, of course he fuckin’ does. And he is touchin’ you, with his large hands still planted on your soft, satin-clad hips, but that’s not in the way he wants. He licks his lips. It probably ain’t you talkin’, it’s the Bliss.

The music swells again, and you spin around in his grasp, pressing your back against the curve of his stomach. He makes a fist in front of your dress, gathering up the fabric just enough so that his fingers can graze the smooth skin of your thigh. It’s so soft… feels so fuckin’ good underneath his hand. Immediately, like a child that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he lets go, and shifts himself against your body again. God damn. 

You whine at the sensation, open-mouthed and dizzy. Every ounce of Bliss that was coursing through your system had you feeling better than you’ve ever remembered… and you were grinding on some hot older guy? Win-win. 

Your hips continue to sweep back and forth across his body, dipping your hips back to grind against his groin. You feel movement against your ass, and he eases himself into your soft, plush cheeks, forcing more friction. 

“You ain’t thinkin’ straight, doll.” He says into your ear and his hand moves back to your hips, adjusting you. He thinks about movin’ his hand between your legs, fingers teasing at the mound of flesh there. Your soft panties are hardly there to begin with, so the contact would have you both reeling. He knows could feel the outline of her, and you could feel the warmth of his fingers. 

But he doesn’t, it ain’t right and for all he knows, you could sober up and be horrified by your choice. It wouldn’t surprise him any. 

The warmth of his body is enough to arouse you, and you draw the side of your lip into your mouth and bite down, feeling a blush start down your neck. People are grinding on each other all around you, measly amounts of fabric impeding any actual fucking – what’s another pair?

“What? About you?” you say, looking out into the crowd, watching as others are doing the same. You lean back, pressing the side of your head against his chest, and close your eyes, letting the music take you wherever it needed to.

He mutters a yeah; you feel it vibrate in his throat. 

You spin back around and the action puts Oz’s hands on the meat of your ass cheeks. He doesn’t move them, despite his previous thoughts. You snort, dismissing his insecurity. He says nothing, only looks at you, studying the features of your face. 

“Ohhh, I get it.” You nod slowly, closing your eyes slightly. Your finger taps his chest a few times, punctuating your disapproving revelation. “I get it, you think I’m too fucked up to know what I’m doing, is that it?” 

One of Oz’s hands leaves your body to come up and grip your chin, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip just enough to expose your teeth. You lean into his grasp, reveling in the feeling of his hand on your face.  He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. It’s plush and waxy underneath the pad of his thumb, which leaves a glittering streak of lip gloss on your cheek.

“Nnooo…. It’s cute that you care… but no, the red candy –”

“Bliss,” he interjects, making sure you remember it. The more people that know it by name, the better. 

“ – Bliss, okay, yeah. I’d hit on you without it.”

Oz considers that, his tongue darting out to lick his lips again. He squints at you, assessing your sincerity with a hint of intrigue. 

That second of consideration is all you need apparently. You’re craning your neck towards him, your heavy-lidded gaze dropping to his scarred lips. You bite your own, and inch closer – close enough that you can smell the scotch on his breath. You tilt your head to wordlessly indicate to him where you’re headed, and he looks at your ever-approaching mouth with a restrained sort of longing. His hands are still on your waist, which you take note of. 

“Hey! There you are!”

Hearing your friend’s voice, you immediately pull away from him, though he’s a little slower to let go of you. He seems less concerned with being caught; probably a by-product of his lifestyle. You turn to your friend, smiling sheepishly. She eyes the man behind you, quirking a single, defined brow. The apprehension is visible on her face. 

“Heeey. One sec,” you say, before spinning back to Oz. “Give me your phone.” 

You expectantly hold your hand out in front of him, opening and closing your palm a few times. 

“Oh, c’mon, I know you’ve got a phone. You’re not that old.” 

With a slightly perturbed sigh, he leans to the side, his hand slipping into his pocket. He retrieves the phone and holds it out to you, almost guiltily. 

Hastily, you create a new contact before returning the phone to him. 

“Text me if you don’t believe me. Or text me if you do believe me and are curious.” You lean up onto the toes of your heels, and whisper in his ear. “Just text me.” 

With that, you reach behind you, grabbing at the air until your friend’s fingers intertwine with yours. She grips your hand tight and yanks you away from Oz, pulling you into the undulating crowd until you can’t see him anymore. She wastes no time, and immediately drags you back to the dance floor, finding the same woman who gave you Bliss the last time. You both dish out more cash and suck down the crimson shard before both of you are consumed by the drug and the need to dance. 

You run your fingers through your hair, lifting it off your shoulders. “Fuck, I feel amazing….” 

Only an hour passes before your phone vibrates in your bag. Licking your lips, you pull it out. It’s from an unknown number… Gotham City area code… but you know exactly who it is. A pleased smirk curves its way around your glossy lips. 

It reads: You still here?

Yea lol. Are you? Your hips continue swaying back and forth to the beat. 

Yes

You suck on your bottom lip for a moment, mulling over what you want to do. You’re apparently taking too long, because the typing bubble pops up again. You smirk to yourself and run your free hand through your hair, touseling it. You quickly thumb out a string of messages; you’re much faster than him.

Meet me at the bathrooms in 10 

Mens

There always too many girls in ours 

Oz doesn’t reply. 

“Girl, I’ll be back!” You shout over the music. Your friend’s attention snaps to you, looking perplexed.

“Where are you going!?” 

“I just gotta’ meet up with someone!” 

The realization dawns on her and her eyes widen. “Shut up…! Is it that guy from earlier?!” 

You nod. 

“Are you serious?!”

You nod, looking proud. Your friend screws up her face, not withholding how she felt about him. 

Sandwiching her face between your hands, you pull her head down for a loving forehead kiss. “You need to broaden your horizons, baby doll!”  

And with that, you plunge yourself into the crowd, gripping your phone in your hand. A neon sign in an archway guides you to your destination. By the time you get to a vantage point where you can see the bathrooms, you spot Oz; already there, his scarred face illuminated by the glow of his phone. He looks worried, like you aren’t going to show up. After slipping your phone into your purse, you close in the distance. With a smirk, you move your hand towards him, reaching out to touch his forearm. 

“You missed me, huh? Tell me you missed me…” 

“What is this, a fuckin’ – “ 

“It took you a fucking hour to text me, baby. You were thinkin’ about me, weren’t you?” 

“Maybe I was.” 

Oz flattens his palm against the door, giving it a hard push until it opens. You duck underneath his arm and after casually checking your makeup in the line of mirrors to your left, fling yourself into the first open stall. Oz follows, lumbering in after you. It’s a tight fit, but you’re about to give him some breathing room. 

You drop your purse to the ground, and promptly get to your knees, the cold tile floor chilling them as you do. Oz stands tall in front of you, his chest heaving with each breath. His head drops to his chest, leaning forward slightly to look at you over his stomach and he chuckles breathily, looking almost embarrassed.

“Hoh shit… you ain’t fuckin’ around, are ya?” 

You shake your head as your fingers crawl up his thighs, step by step, until you get to his waist band. You unlatch the closure and reach inside the folds of fabric, finding the small zipper with your fingers. A slow, teasing tug pulls it down and you look up at him, a wanton grin on your lips. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his bottom jaw hangs slack, his brown eyes watching you with an intensity that reveals something deeper. 

“You don’t do this very often, huh?” 

He doesn’t answer, but his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Shit, sweetheart… you do though, dontcha’?”  “Enough to know what I’m doing.” Your reply is sharp, and you punctuate it with a curt nod, swiping the pads of your fingers across his underwear to tease his quickly hardening dick. You palm the outline, rubbing it softly. Your thumb finds the tip, teasing it through the layer of fabric. Above you, Oz is still watching you intently, committing all of this to memory. You chuckle through your nose, and lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the hardness. 

“Lemme’ see what I’m working with…” you murmur, before reaching up to the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down harshly underneath his balls and freeing his cock. Framed by a thatch of black hair, it bobs heavily in front of your face, clear beads of pre-cum already leaking from the slit. You breathe hotly, causing it to twitch slightly. He pitches forward, bumping the tip into your lips and leaving a string of pre-cum stretching from your bottom lip to his dick. You lean back, just out of reach and laugh, watching as his expression contorts. You beam, pleased. The smile is mischievous; you love giving head because of the power it gives you, quite literally holding it in your hand. 

You bring your hand up to his dick, wrapping your fingers just underneath the tip. The girth is impressive, even here. With a smirk, you tighten your grip and drag your thumb over the head, bringing some of that luscious pre-cum down onto his shaft. You drag your fist away from your face, watching as the skin slickens underneath your fingers. With a clang of metal against metal, Oz grips the side of the stall tight to steady himself. You haven’t even put your mouth on his dick yet, and he’s already acting like he’s going to topple over. 

“Easy, Oz…” 

Your tongue stretches out past your teeth, flattening over your bottom lip. Taking hold of his cock hastily like a toy, you slap it wetly against your tongue a few times to rile him up. It works; his breath hitches in his throat and he drops his head back against his broad shoulders. His body temperature is rising, even you can feel it rolling off of him. It’s a nice contrast to the chill of the bathroom. 

You swallow once, relaxing your throat before leaning forward to wrap your lips around the cockhead. Your tongue, still flat, massages the underside of his cock as you push your head down onto him, not stopping until your nose reaches his pubic hair. Oz can’t help the sounds that tumble from his mouth; low, tight groans and a string of expletives as you deep throat his cock. His free hand comes down to the back of your head, caressing your tresses and he lets out a deep sigh, adjusting to the warmth of your mouth. You feel the tension in his grip and know that he’s fighting the urge to grip your hair, controlling the speed at which your mouth pleasures him. Your blood is buzzing in your ears, hazy with arousal. 

You pull back and he inhales sharply as you open your mouth wider before diving back down, letting the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag and your eyes snap shut, tears welling at the corners. 

“That feels so fuckin’ good. Shit, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks cave as you suck him off, bobbing your head back and forth. 

“God damn, that mouth uh’ yours…”

You pull off his cock with a wet slurp and look up at him, dizzy with lust, before reaching up behind your head. Your smaller hand closes around his large hand, forcing him to make a fist in the soft strands before trailing over his wrist, fingers catching on the metal of his gold bracelet. “It’s okay, Oz. You can pull my hair.”  Your tongue darts over your swollen bottom lip, lapping up the taste of him. “Pull it, baby. You’re doing so good…” 

The comment is both a reprieve from his fat cock bullying your throat and a genuine statement. You see those dark brown eyes of his disappear under his lids as they roll back in his head, incapacitated by lust. He growls deep in his throat. Having been given direction and permission, he meticulously begins gathering it up into a ponytail, scooping all the tresses into the curve of his palm. While he does, you lazily lick at the sensitive, reddened head, teasing him further. The action practically makes his hands shake, but Oz manages to grip your hair tight and takes it upon himself to jerk his hips back against your face, sliding himself back into the warm, suctioned confines of your mouth. You nod against his cock, your nose brushing against the hair that greets you. 

You want to tell him that he can fuck your face, but he’s already found a rhythm of bucking his hips into your mouth, so instead of words, the bathroom is filled with the muffled music from outside and the sloppy, wet sounds currently coming from your throat. You walk your knees out a little farther, giving yourself room to slip your hand between your thighs, and into the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties. 

You feel every part of his body tense. He’s close. You know it, he knows it. You push yourself further onto his cock, until your gag reflex activates again, and Oz immediately pulls you off, backing his hips away from your mouth. Your eyes fall to his cock; the tip is glossy and reddened, almost purple, and is leaking profusely. It twitches once and you reach forward to stroke the length of it with your middle finger. 

“You gonna’ swallow that load, sweetheart?” 

With your throat sticky with his arousal, you swallow before speaking. “You wouldn’t ruin my makeup, would you?” 

He grins and chuckles, shaking his head softly. “Nah, doll. I wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it. Open up.” 

You do. You open your mouth wide, and let him ease his cock back inside until it hits the back of your throat again, relaxing the muscles as best you can. Your finger moves from circling your own sensitive, swollen clit to delve into your wet cunt. You let out a little moan around his cock.  Closing  your lips around the shaft, you begin bobbing your head again, waiting for him to take control. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t. He doesn’t, and the hand that’s tangled in your hair goes slack, letting the strands fall back against your neck. This close to an orgasm and he doesn’t absolutely wreck your mouth? He’s got a whole suitcase full of kinks you’d like to unpack, but now’s not the time. With a crooked smile, you bring your free hand up to the base of his dick, stroking into your mouth while your tongue lets the tip grind against it. As he groans and grunts above you, you continue fucking yourself on your own fingers, pumping them in and out of your slick, dripping cunt. It doesn’t take you long to feel that first warning clench.

“That’s it, don’t fuckin’ stop, don’t fuckin’ stop–”

One of his hands comes to rest on your shoulder, gripping it tight. His thick cock twitches in your hands and you brace for the oncoming orgasm. A few more languid pumps, and he groans loud enough for it to echo against the tile walls. His grip tightens on your shoulder as spurts of hot, white cum decorate your tongue and the back of your throat. As promised, you swallow. And swallow again, and again. The heady taste of his cum brings you to the edge, and the heat reaches its peak between your legs, which snap shut at the sensation. Your cunt flutters around your fingers, arousal leaking out onto them. 

You pull off his cock, swallow again and collapse slightly against his groin. His hand finds your head again, petting your hair tenderly. As you both come down off the high, there’s nothing but the distant sound of music and your ragged breaths.

Finally, you slip your arm into the handle of your purse, and albeit somewhat awkwardly, you pull one foot underneath you and push up, getting to your feet. Once Oz sees this, he helps you, lifting you carefully. Once you’re standing in front of him, you reach between your legs again, and gather your finishing with two fingers.  

“Open up.” You repeat, in an almost mocking tone. Though his expression paints a story of confusion, he parts his lips slightly, just enough for you to slide two of your fingers inside. You swipe the slickened fingers over his tongue, back and forth until the slick has coated the muscle. Finally, you withdraw your fingers, watching wordlessly as Oz sucks the intoxicating taste of your orgasm down his throat.

“Thanks for that, Oz.”

“Feelin’s mutual, doll. Feelin’ is fuckin’ mutual.” 

[talesof-old]

weakness | r.l.

pairing(s): remus lupin x plus size!fem!reader, background poly!marauders x reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, don’t look too closely at the grammar i wrote this in one sitting, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, remus cums in his pants, poly relationship mention, i really think that’s all; not proofread or edited

a/n: it’s a crime i’ve never written for one of my first fictional crushes of ever

word count: 1k

masterlist

remus is distracting, as always

There were several things you liked to pretend didn’t affect you.

The daily weather. Despite your adoration for storms and the feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, it cast a gloomy mood over you all day. You never could shake the way it cast you far into the depths of your mind.

Bad sleep. The too familiar feeling of grogginess and misery clawing at your twitching eyelids until it drove you mad was enough for anyone to lash out.

Remus Lupin. You liked to pretend he didn’t have any power over you, but if you were honest, he could do just about anything and you’d be falling to your knees. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual.

Your heart pounded as Remus’ large hands found purchase on the soft meat of your thighs, fingertips digging into the plush skin. It was his idea to stop by his dorm before heading to the library. Now you watched him with greedy eyes and a hammering heart. “You seem quite eager, love. Should I be concerned you’ll steal me away from my afternoon plans?”

His answering grin was enough to have you swooning, his cheek resting against your knee to nudge your legs apart. “Can’t say I’d mind.”

You complied, scooting forward until your pussy was exposed to him. Remus pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. His big, honey colored eyes made brief contact with yours before they dipped low.

In a matter of seconds his left hand was parting the lips of your cunt and he swiped a dangerous tongue over the folds. You whined, jolting at the sharp pleasure as he sucked and licked like a man starved. Your hands wove through his brown curls. He hummed at the feeling. You choked on a moan, a breathless laugh tumbling past your lips.

“You’re insatiable.”

He chuckled, the vibrations shooting through your nerves like lightning. You gasped, tugging on his hair, entirely unsure if you could handle it if he continued. His nose bumped your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily, an ache forming in between your hips.

Remus kept up his actions, his tongue occasionally dipping into the warm heat of your cunt. Your eyelids fluttered, a quiet moan following.

“Please, Rem, please-“

He pulled away, chin shiny and lips twisted into a mocking pout. “Can’t handle it, dove?” You whined, tugging him up toward you. He groaned softly as he stood, knees cracking and body sore. You leaned back on the bed, giving him room to climb on top of you. He pressed a messy kiss to your lips as he did so. You deepened it, hand reaching to grip the side of his pants and tugging him closer. He gave in, erection rubbing against your aching cunt. He groaned into your mouth.

“Wicked little thing.” You smiled shamelessly.

He pushed himself up and lifted your skirt hem, fingers tracing your soft skin before dipping into your wet cunt. Your legs tensed before you melted at his touch, body trembling as he thrusted his middle finger in and out of you, motions slow and steady. Remus’ hard on rubbed against your hip in time with his thrusts. You let your head fall back as your moaning changed in pitch.

Remus’ lips attached to the skin of your neck, sucking hard on your sensitive collarbone. His thumb swiped over your clit; the sound that left your mouth was half moan, half gasp, some weird garbled mess that under any other circumstance you would’ve been embarrassed about.

“Got my dove all fucked up with just my fingers. What would the others say if they could see you now?”

Your walls involuntarily clenched at the thought and your fingers latched onto the sheets beneath you. They were surely wondering where you two had wandered off to by now. A part of you wanted to see what would happen if they caught you now.

“Oh you like that, do you?”

A broken moan fell from your lips just as he sunk another finger into you. Your thighs trembled against his arm as the heat in your lower abdomen grew. The relationship had been open for ages now, an unconventional polycule you didn’t care to explain to anyone.

Remus chuckled at your response, choosing to trace circles over your clit instead of pressing further. Your body tensed as he added a third finger into your cunt, the tingling stretch enough to have your toes curling. You gripped Remus’ wrist with your left hand, bucking into his hand, his calloused palm scraping against your clit.

A lewd, not quite scream echoed through the room. Remus raised a brow at your still tight grip and quickened his pace, keeping steady attention on your clit. Your body tensed.

“I’ve got you, dove, I’ve got you.” He pressed his upper body against yours, a whisper in your ear to help ease you through your climax. Your thighs trembled as the knot between your thighs tightened. His clothed dick was still rubbing against your hip as he tilted his head up and caught your lips against his, his tongue swiping across your lips. You could hardly kiss back. Your mind was too far gone, caught up entirely in the feeling of his fingers knuckle deep within you and his thumb, oh Merlin his thumb-

You moaned against his lips as the knot tightened further and then released. His own movements grew more frantic, the scratchy fabric of his pants irritating your skin as he drew closer to his own end. Your climax washed over you in waves. With your eyes squeezed shut and your thighs clamped around his wrist, you rolled your hips to ride out your orgasm. It faded slowly, leaving you boneless and limp on his bed. You whined as he withdrew his fingers. A graphic squelch followed as you came to, eyes half lidded as you took in the wet spot on your hip and Remus own satisfied expression. You giggled.

“They others are gonna be so miffed when they see us.” He shook his head, dipping down to kiss your collarbone.

“We could hide away from ‘em, get some time alone.” You rake your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his scarred brown skin. Your clothes were already ruined, really. You could feel the wet spot beneath you. Remus knew the exact moment you decided to cave, body sinking deeper into the mattress.

“Maybe they’ll join us.”

+++

[theswissgirl]

from here on until forever - Demetri Volturi

Demetri Volturi was the first ever guy I had a serious fictional crush on on, like it was bad there were so many scenarios I created in my head but there was one that repeated in my head like a never ending movie

And I'm going to write it now

a timeline through the movies like key moments from each film (that obviously features him and my own plot) and the relationship is slowly going to build from there.

And I plan on posting it in parts so New Moon is part 1.

Character:

Name: Evangeline Swan (picture her as you want)

Sister: Bella Swan

status: human (will be changed)

Vampiric ability : seismic sense (later on)

Mate: Demetri Volturi

word count: 3.7k

and obviously all credit to the author of The Twilight Saga and everyone involved in the process of the movies.

___________________________________________________________

New Moon : The Start of Forever

You were sat in the yellow sports car which Alice Cullen had hijacked and was operating with dangerous speed towards the city of Volterra, Italy, where you knew nothing good was going to expect you when you arrived.

Lush green fields of grass and trees could be seen in your peripheral vision, there was something so scarily calming about it. But of course, Bella was too busy bouncing nervously in the passenger seat to admire the scenery, holding onto the dashboard harshly "I'm guessing you didn't rent his car?" she asked Alice.

You snickered quietly.

of course she didn't

"I figured you wouldn't be opposed to grand theft auto" Alice replied swiftly, briefly glancing over at Bella, who was beginning to look a little nauseous from the curves and pot holes in the road, "Not today" Bella rushed out.

Suddenly, you noticed Alice's eyes begin to glaze over and your curiosity was engaged, she was having a premonition.

Bella caught wind immediately.

"What? What do you see?" Bella asked her vampiric friend, a small hint of anxiety in her voice as she slowly feared for the worst and she had a bad feeling her vampire boyfriend had set some sort of plan in motion.

"Alice, are you okay?" you asked her, speaking up for the first time in a while.

Alice brushed you off, "They refused him" Alice said, narrowing her eyes in concern.

"Sooo" Bella pushed.

"He's going to make a scene, show himself to the humans" Alice said, glancing at both you and Bella

"that can't end well" you mumbled, meeting Alice's eyes in the mirror and having your thought confirmed as Alice nodded her head in agreement whilst keeping a steady eye on the prevailing road conditions ahead, steering the wheel smoothly and precisely.

"No.. when?!" Bella's voice was sharp with angst.

"He's going to wait until noon, when the sun is at it's highest" Alice let out a small gasp as her vision came to an end, making you think that she saw something upsetting.

You may not have liked Edward for all the shit he put Bella through, but you weren't the kind of person who would wish suffering on anyone.

"God Alice, you gotta hurry"

"There's Volterra"

___________________________________________________________

Bella rushed off to save her boyfriend through the sea of red coats, as per the tradition of St. Marcus day, celebrating the expulsion of vampires. You however, stayed with Alice and looked for a spot to leave the stolen vehicle.

Alice turned to look at you seriously as she covered every inch of her exposed skin, which was mostly her face, "Evangeline I want you to listen carefully to me, when we get to the castle do not do anything to attract attention" she said, looking you straight in the eyes.

you nodded wordlessly, worry growing within you as you sat still in the backseat of the car and feeling it come to a halt just behind the massive castle where the Volturi resided.

You weren't going to question her, you were about to step into the layer of vampires and you wanted to do everything in your powers to come out alive.

"Come on, let's go" she said and climbed out of the car, prompting you do the same and following behind her as she navigated through the areas covered with shade.

Time felt like it passes too fast as you were suddenly in front of a door with a very old and wooden looking latch "remember what I said" Alice said suddenly before breaking the latch and opening the door, stepping inside and you following right on her tail.

"Come guys, its a festival, you wouldn't want to cause a scene" Alice said smugly, whilst you awkwardly tried to close the door behind you but giving up after 2 seconds when the stupid thing did not want to listen.

Suddenly, your movement froze and you felt like the small hair on your skin was beginning to dance on the back of your neck, making an intense shiver run down your spine before spreading all over your body like a tsunami devouring anything in its way.

You looked up to find the source of this sensation, skipping over the beautiful old and italien structure when your eyes finally settled on a blonde man, dressed from head to toe in black. What actually caught your attention was his blood red eyes and how hauntingly captivating they were, even more as they met yours.

"Enough" a set of footsteps could be heard clacking on the ground and you watched as a young girl approach, pulling her hood from her head.

"Jane" Edward said quietly, acknowledging her presence.

As Edward's voice registered in your brain, you snapped your eyes away from the beautiful blonde individual and averted them to the ground, a small blush growing on your face in the process.

"Aro sent me to see what was taking so long" the girl, Jane, said and looked over Bella and you with bright and bloody eyes, not as beautiful or inviting as the other ones, before she turned around and began walking back to where she came from.

"Just do what she says" Alice whispered to you as you began to walk alongside her, your breath hitching in your throat as you walked past the blond vampire again, even more so when he started walking next to you.

Your heart was having a personal fiesta in your chest, the pace it was pumping at made you think you were about to fall to the floor from cardiac arrest, and it was all because of him.

Butterflies grew rampantly fast in your stomach, your fingers trembled as almost irresistible itch to just "accidentally" touch them to his was difficult to shove aside and your entire body felt like it was coming alive

And no words had even been exchanged yet.

After an elevator ride with a charged atmosphere, you found yourself walking down stone made stairs, the staircase being dimly lit by the light just outside the door.

You tuned out the small conversation Edward and Bella shared, choosing to primarily focus on not tripping and making a horrible first impression on the beautiful you may or may not already have a crush on.

You felt your neves growing as the more you felt like you approaching the belly of the beast that were the 3 king of the Volturi, especially since Alice told you the stories of what happens those who are exposed to the world of vampires of if you betray it.

The receptionist greeting you as you walked out had you snapped out of your thoughts and your eyes, on their own accord, flittered back to the breathtaking individual who walked beside you.

But the off-putting thought? she was human.

"is she human?" bella asked not-so-quietly, looking at Edward in his fancy red robe which you thought looked ridiculous on him.

"Yes"

"Does she know?"

"yes"

"Then why would-" Bella cut herself as realization dawned on her, "she wants to be".

"And so she will be" a shiver went down your spine as you heard him speak for the very first time, and it made your heart palpate faster. His voice was the right amount of deep and adorned with an english accent, making him all the more enticing.

You felt like there was an invisible cord pulling you with a prepostourley strong force towards him, and the more you tried to heed Alice's warnings about the Volturi, you find yourself beginning to lean more and more in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, a hand snaked its way across your back and settled itself on your waist, tracing small and delicate circles on whatever exposed skin was accessible to him. Almost as if to assure that you won't be hurt as long as he was there.

And the surprising part? you felt safe with him.

"Or dessert" Jane said and you found yourself being glad that you were protected.

Jane pushed open two gigantic wooden double doors and walked into a massive throne and of course, on two majestic chairs sat the 3 volturi kings.

Aro, Caius and Marcus.

Aro seemed to be excited.

Caius was glaring at visitors with annoyance and anger.

Marcus looked... well, rather somber.

Alice had tried to grab your arm and make you go in the same direction as her, the beautiful was quicker and pulled you closer with whilst moving to somewhere in the back of the room and away from the action.

Bella sent you a questioning glance, wondering what you were doing but you had no answer for her so you just shrugged your shoulders and smiled reassuringly at her.

"What a happy surprise! Bella is alive after all" Aro said, his tone chipper as he clapped his hands together, a little too chipper for greeting someone who knew about the existence of vampires...

"Isn't that wonderful? I love a happy ending" you watched Aro approach Bella and Edward, biting your lip in anxiety as your sister was dangerously close to having her life ended.

You weren't aware of it, but your hand subconsciously grabbed ahold of his sleeve and squeezed the material tightly in your grasp.

Aro grabbed ahold of Edwards hand, "they are so rare" he said before his eyes widened and glazed over and it reminded you of when Alice experiences one of her visions .

"La tua cantante, both of the swan sisters" he said, eyes flickering over to you in an instant with newfound curiosity bright in his eye before he decided to make his way over to you.

"My dear Demetri, it seems as though you found your mate" He said, stopping in front of you and looking you dead in the eye, making you shift a little closer to you to seek safety.

"So thats his name, Demetri. Suits him beautifully" you thought yourself.

"Yes my lord" Demetri said, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly but enough to make you crave more and be closer to him, even if you didn't understand why you wanted to close to someone who eats your kind for breakfast.

Aro's eyes go to you and you freeze, you couldn't decipher that look in his eyes, curiosity but combined with something else and you weren't sure if you wanted to know... or witness.

"Their blood appeals to you both" he started and you noticed a change in his facial expression "it makes me thirsty" you froze and moved closer to Demetri almost automatically.

"Aro can read every thought you've ever had, with one touch" Edward interjects, his voice making you startle in surprise and your gaze went to him, seeing that he's had his eye on you and Demetri, as well as Alice and you sent her a small smile to let her know you were okay.

Aro turned to look at him "you are quite a soul reader yourself, Edward. No, you can't read Bella's thoughts" he glanced at Bella another time "fascinating"

"I would love to see if you are an exception to my gift as well, would do me the hohor?" Aro extends his hand to Bella and you watch her take a tentative step forward, placing her hand in his.

You watch with nervousness and anxiety as Aro lowers his head and closes his hand, most likely trying to rifle through her memories one by one but he won't be successful, you knew that.

"Interesting" he pauses.

"I see nothing".

Maybe that was a good thing.

Aro takes a few steps backwards, interlacing his hands in thought "let us see if she is immune to all our powers" he says and an unsettling grin grew on his face as he looks at jane "shall we, jane?" and you could swear your heart leaps into your throat and panic consumes you.

"No please don't" you breathed and surged out of demetris hold and towards your sister but strong arms wrapped around your frame in an instant and coiled tightly, immobilizing any movement and leaving you thrashing to get away.

"No" Edward growled and lunged at jane, only to freeze on the stop and his body begins to contort painfully, as if his body was being squeezed into a little ball and he falls to his knees.

"Stop" Bella demanded with a fearful tone "no please stop" she pleaded and tried to run to edwards side but was stopped by Jane's brother, Alec.

"Stop, just stop hurting him please, please" her voice grew louder every second that edward appeared to be in more pain, his face completely strained as he fought against the onslaught waves of pain Jane sent in his direction with one steely eyed glare.

"Jane" Aro said that Jane obeyed instantly, stopping her ministrations against edward.

"Go ahead, my dear" aro said eerily softly and suddenly, Jane looked at Bella with excitement.

"This may hurt just a little" she said calmly and you began thrashing in demetris hold again when you realised what was going to happen

"please let me go" you pleaded quietly as you watched Bella prepare herself, a look of determination in her eyes and much like a python, the more you moved in his arms, the tighter he held you to him "please calm down mia cara, she won't come to harm" he whispered softly in your ear, his voice warm and somehow comforting and it sent shivers down your spine.

Aro lets out a laugh and claps his hands "Remarkable" he breathed "she confounds us all".

"So, what do we do with you now?" then, he looked at you.

"With both of you?".

you huddled closer to demetri at the threatening glint in Aros eyes, almost doing it instinctively.

"You already know what you are going to do Aro" the oldest and kind of depressed-looking spoke up first with a monotonous tone in his voice, as if this whole ordeal bored him.

The blonde king spoke next "They know too much, they're a liability" he said before glancing at you "the younger swan will be spared as she is Demetri's mate, but she has to be turned" he demanded and your stomach tightened with dread.

did you want to be changed? were you really willing to throw a whole chapter of your life away to be with someone you met an hour ago?

Aro sighed wistfully "thats true" he agreed before casting a glance to a burly vampire, giving him a look "Felix" was all he said and Bella was released from Alecs grip

only to be flipped so she was standing protected behind Edward and he lunges at Felix, tackling him to the floor with ferocity and then you felt a rush of wind, suddenly feeling cold.

You looked to the side and saw that Demetri had a hand wrapped around Alices throat in a vice-like grip, not letting her escape and you frowned, she must've tried to intervene.

But with Demetri guarding Alice, you felt exposed and unsafe in a room full of vampires which would easily kill you if given the command, damn you really got comfy in his arms.

Every time edward was slammed into the marble floors, small and tiny cracks grew along his skin, like a porcelain vase that was beginning to shatter and you winced as the cracks and tears grew louder.

And then Felix had him in a headlock, ready to tear off his head and bella let out a cry of desperation "Please, no, no, please, plese!" she cried and aro gave the command to stop felix, hearing the plea in her voice "kill me, kill me, not him" she rushed out and inhaled shakily.

your head turned faster than a cobra striking its pray, you couldn't believer her words, how easily she was willing to give up her life for the man she loved but what about you? were you at the center of her priorities too?

"Bella no, don't say that" you breathed and fought the rising tears as you went to stand by her side but you only got a glare from your sister, so this is what it came to be.

Suddenly becoming a vampire didn't seem like the worst idea.

Aro stalked towards bella with slow and deliberate steps, a confused yet a look of awe in his eyes "how extraordinary, you would give up your life for someone like us, a vampire, a soulless monster"

shivers went down your spine and a burning sensation tingled by the back of your head, you turned your head to look and saw demetri had his eyes trained on you whilst still having focus on keeping Alice captive with is hand wrapped firmly and tightly around her throat.

Guilt consumed you when your first thought was not centred around Alice and her safety but rather the man who had the potential to cause her harm if she so much as she attempted to squirm and break free, the thought of that was enough to get you to turn your head and focus on Bella and Edward again.

But all you then saw was a blur wizzing forward and slamming into another member of the Volturi and you quickly realised edward pounced on him, most likely to protect bella.

(skipping ahead)

Edward was spared from being destroyed and stood with Bella once again and Demetri stood by you again, an arm wrapped securely around your waist.

"let us be done with this, heidi will arrive any moment"

the old and frail-looking king spoke up as he stood up slowly "thank you for your visit" he said slowly with a deep rasp in his voice and then then the blonde king spoke up.

"I would advise that you follow through with your promise soon, we do not offer second chances" he said with a sneer on his face, emphasizing the word "chances" to make it sound more menacing you were sure.

Demetri let go of you momentarily to open the giant double doors and led you and the others out of the throne room "goodbye my young friends" Aro said from behind but you did not once stop to think to turn around, you just kept walking and followed demetri.

"Nice fishing, heidi" you heard demetri say and you looked up, a beautiful vampiric woman in a red dress walked past your group with a sea of tourists following right behind her, mumbling curiously and admiring the architecture of the palace and it appeared as though they were completely oblivious that they were being lead to their deaths.

maybe it was better that way, a quick and swift death.

"yes they do look rather juicy" Heidi replied and sent a smirk in his direction and an emotion that mimicked jealousy (or actual jealousy) rose within you, did she have thing for him? but you shook those thoughts away.

and then the screaming and shouting came.

you froze and wanted to turn around to observe what was happening but demetri snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him "don't look its not for the faint of heart, mia cara" his soft voice met your ear and heat rushed down your spine at the close proximity, the effect he had on you making you slowly forget.

A few minutes later and you were outside, the warm sun beaming down on you and you welcomed it without hesitation, breathing in the fresh air and relaxed.

"It's time we go home" Alice stood next to you, a hand on your shoulder as she gave you a soft smile.

you bit your lip in thought, eyes flickering over to demetri.

for whatever reason, the thought of leaving him was like going through a heartbreak and it was like your whole body was protesting and fighting hard against it, leaving him felt like a gloomy cloud was descending upon you and your world would shrouded in darkness.

"2 seconds alice" you told her quietly and stepped over to demetri, your heart hammering violently in your chest.

"what happens now?" was the first thing you asked him as you looked up at his beautiful face, his beautiful red eyes looking down at you with a certain softness and fondness you didnt think you'd ever on a vampires face.

"We will be together again, and I understand that you must return home" He spoke with understanding as he delicately placed his hand on your cheek, stroking the skin softly like you were the most precious thing he had in his possession.

Which is kind of true given your human nature and his vampire.

a sad and small smile rose on your lips as you subconsciously leaned into his touch, his hand burrowing itself gently in your hair "I look forward to it" you whispered before stepping back, his hand falling from your head and you immediately missed his touch.

"we'll see each other sooner than you think, mia cara"

"this is only the start".

and with that, you turned and left with the others and you were damn sure that you wouldn't ever forget him.

_____________________________________________________________

still new at this, hope its nothing too bad

[fanon-elio]

By your side.

Part 5

Summary: You are the CEO of a big company and hired Lycaon as your personal attendant, however it seems that your wolfish butler has developed a crush on you. So while you and him were on a business trip, both of you were forced to confront your growing feelings for eachother.

Tag: Red Letter (Nsfw)

Minors DNI

Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional and is not canon. You are responsible for the content you consume, so if the following warnings trigger you, you may read at your own risk.

Warnings: Smut, oral (giving+receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, unprotected sex, pinning, biting(like a lot), a bit possesiveness, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, reader and lycaon are dirty minded, lycaon is a service top, mentions of blood, shower sex, some small fluff.

(Please inform me if I have forgotten any)

Other warnings: lowkey my first fanfiction, so bare with me here. (T^T)

This part is once again a bit longer than the others.

This fic contains a lot of scenarios written in Lycaons pov cuz i eat this shit up for breakfast

I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Honestly i really gotta do some self-reflecting after this part. The fact that my mind was actually able to come up with something so grafic shocks me a bit.

Once again, this part contains explicit sexual themes. Minors DNI!!

Enjoy!

"Master, please allow me to make love to you" Lycaon was suprised by his own confidence.

He hoped he hadn't misjudged the situation. The seconds of silence between you two felt like hours, but he kept eye contact with you. Finally you spoke, barely above a whisper "please do" and he let out a sigh of relieve as he dove straight back to kissing you, unzipping your dress as he did so.

He felt immense satisfaction course through his veins like hot lava when he drank in the sight of you as his clawed fingers found the clasp of your bra. You put a hand on his shoulder, gently halting his actions, he looked concerned for a second, wondering if he had overstepped a line already "Is something the matter? We can stop if y-" he started but you interrupted him "no I want to continue it's just" you reached for his cheek again and he leaned into your touch "I just want to make sure this is what you want too, I don't wan't to preassure you into anything, to make you feel like you owe it to me" he chuckled as he gently grabbed your hand, slowly guiding it from his cheek down to his exposed chest.

His fur was as soft as silk as your fingers ran over his pecks, down to his abs, and stopped at his clothed crotch. You blushed as you felt his straining errection through his pants "I hope this is enough of an answer" he replied playfully, groaning as you gave his bulge a little squeeze.

He stood up suddenly, leaving you confused for a second, but when he pulled you to the edge of the sofa and got on his knees, his intentions became very clear to you. He hooked his fingers under the straps of your panties as he once again found your gaze, silently asking for permission to continue - to cross that line.

You nodded, and he pulled your panties off, gently spreading your legs. His mouth began to water when he looked at your pussy, his tail thumping against the ground to visualize his growing excitement as he licked your inner thigh. Slowly getting closer to where you needed him. You yelped a bit when he moved your legs up to your chest, gently holding them in place. Your eyes remained fixxed on him, shivering a bit when you felt his breath against your exposed sex.

He started slow, planting a tender kiss against your clit before licking a long stripe up your folds, immediately making you see stars, his groans of satisfaction turning you on even more. He circled your clit with his tongue before spredding your glistening folds, pushing his tongue inside. You let out a loud moan and it made his cock even harder as he ate you out like a beast starved, feeling the way your walls moved around his tongue. You tried to move your legs, wanting to wrap them around his face, but to no avail. There was no fighting his iron grip, all you could do was watch him as he tongue fucked you, sometimes pulling out to suck on your clit. He felt you twitch with every movement of his tongue inside your pussy, completely lost in the act of pleassuring you "Lycaon wait I'm close" you said but it didn't fully register to him. He pushed your legs down harder, practically immobilizing you as he picked up his pace.

He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to cum all over his tongue, he wanted to make you scream from pleassure. And so you did, as your orgasm hit you full force. You burried your fingers in Lycaon's hair, pulling him even closer to your pussy as he obidiently swallowed everything you gave him. You shook as he continued to lick your puffy folds, seemingly to pussy drunk to think straight "Lycaon wait" you almost sobbed, but he didn't seem to hear you, continuing to suck on your overstimulated clit. "its too much" you said, gently pulling on his hair to get his attention. Finally he seemed to return to reality, ceasing the assault on your poor cunt. "Apologies, it seems i got carried away" he responded and you pulled him up by his collar so he was ontop of you, crashing your lips against his and tasting the remnants of your climax on his tongue. "OK, your turn" you responded, motioning him to get up and sit down.

He felt nervousness bubble up again as you positioned yourself between his spread legs. His tail continued to thump excitedly against the sofa as you unbuckled his belt. "May I?" You ask and he swallowed "you may" he responded, giving you the permission you needed. You pulled his pants down, freeing his cock from its confines as it slapped against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened as you took in his sheer size "please, don't force yourself to take it, i don't want you to hurt yourself" he replied, feeling a strange sense of pride as he watched you marvel at his cock. "Can I still try?" You asked him so innocently, carefully wrapping a hand around his shaft, and who was he to deny you what was yours "its all yours" he replied, gently caressing your head, hissing when your tongue made contact with the head of his cock. His gaze never left your form, carefully watching all of your movements as you tongue ran over his weeping tip. He let out a moan when you put it fully in your mouth, and that gave you the confidence boost you needed. Slowly you swallowed his full member, trying not to gag as he moved down your throat. Lycaon was in awe as he watched you, you actually managed to take him completely, his cock twitched in response to his suprise, and he thinks he has fallen even harder in love with you. Slowly you bopped you head, circling your tongue around his member "are you alright he asked?" Through heavy breathing "I'm ok don't worry" you replied and he gritted his teeth when you began pumping his cock with your hand. You knew he was close, and you were ready to get payback for earlier.

You picked up your pace, fondling his balls with one hand, while the other continued to stroke him as you sucked on the head of his cock. His moans got louder, and you could hear his claws tearing through the material of the sofa "wait master I'm- " he started, and you used the oppertunity to take the reigns "cum" you comanded and he threw his head back, obeying immediately. Thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock while you mercilessly continued to jerk him off, his moans only adding fuel to your fire. Slowly he came down from his orgasm, twitching a bit when you gave his cock an experimental squeeze, noting how hard he still was.

It seems your Wolf was not yet done for the night, the thought of which excited you.

He looked at you "how do you feel?" You asked him "amazing" he responded, still trying to catch his breath. You once again stradeled his lap, gently grinding on his still overstimulated cock. You yelped in suprise when he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. He carefully layed you down on the soft sheets before he got on top of you again. He looked at you with a pleading expression, and you raised an eyebrow. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you wanted to hear it out of his mouth "what do you need, tell me" you said, and he leaned foreward, whispering into your ear "please let me fuck you" you gripped the sheets as he gently nibbled on your ear. You summoned all the courage you could muster "go on then" you said, moving your head to the side to give him full access to your shoulder and neck. He looked at you for a moment, as if questioning if you ment what he was thinking. You gently carassed his jaw, cautiously sticking your thumb into his maw, tracing his bottom fangs as you confirmed his thoughts "make me yours."

It was as if a switch was turned in Lycaon's head as he once again pinned you down, licking over the tender flesh of your neck.

Words can't describe how badly he wanted this.

He carefully opened his mouth, and you shuddered when you felt his canines ghost over your skin, an apology left his lip before he dug them into your shoulder. You yelped as you felt him suck on your skin, the small sting of pain making you even more drenched than before. He licked over your fresh bite mark, the taste of iron strong on his tongue as he gently carassed your thigh as another small apology for biting you so hard. Even though he secretly hoped it would leave a permanent mark.

You got on your hands an knees as he carefully brought his cock to your pussy, his tip nudging at your entrance. Your hands twisted into the sheets in anticipation, something he seemed to notice "tell me if it hurts and I will stop immediately" he said and you nodded. Your mouth fell open as you felt him slowly penetrating you, inch by inch "half way in already, almost there" he spoke through gritted teeth, your pussy having his cock in a strangle hold already.

Finally he bottomed out inside you, hitting that spot that turned your vision to static. You felt so deliciously full, and were embarassed by how close you once again were, even though he just put it in. Lycaon, ever so attentive, seemed to realize without you having to voice it, keeping still to give you time to adjust to him. He felt like he was in heaven, your pussy felt so warm and soft around his throbbing member.

He wanted to make you cum on his cock, to pleasure you even better than earlier, better than how you've ever been pleasured before. He wanted to fuck you so good that you'd never desire anyone else but him.

You wiggled your hips, giving him the sign to start moving. Slowly he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, your eyes started to water at the corners. You couldn't believe your luck that this was actually happening, and neither could he.

Lycaon gently carassed your back as he picked up his pace a little. He reached one of his hands down, taking one of your breasts in his hand. He was messmerized by how soft it was as he started to play with your nipple. His hand continued to trail down your body, finding your clit as he rupped gentle circles against it. He stopped for a moment, carefully repositioning himself, as he pressed his chest to your back. He sucked on your other shoulder, finally giving you all the hickeys he wanted to give you for so long. He wanted to litter your body with hickeys, you'd look so pretty covered in them from head to toe.

He felt you clench around him, it seems you were getting close again. He picked up his pace again, the squelching sounds of your cunt filling the room, fully capturing his attention. Your grip on the sheets tightened "faster please, it feels so good" you called out to him, and he wouldn't make you ask twice "as you wish master." He laced his fingers with yours as he started plowing into you at a volatile pace, your voice filling the room as you screamed his name. He already loved the way it sounded on your tongue, but hearing you scream it drove him almost mad. "Your cock feels amazing oh my god!" You praised, and he felt your pussy squeeze his dick harder, you were about to cum. "Please bite me again" you pleaded brokenly, tilting your head to expose you other shoulder, and he obliged, plunging his teeth into your tender skin. His tail wagged violently as he thrived on you allowing him to freely mark you like this, mark you so everyone knew you belonged with him.

You brokenly cried out his name as you came again, soiling the bedsheets beneath you, and he halted his movement, moaning at how tightly your cunt was holding onto him as he gently rubbed your clit through your orgasm. Lapping on your shoulder, he waited for you to come down from your high before gently speaking up "are you ok? Do you need a break?" He asked you, carefully running his hands up and down your thigh "please don't stop, you haven't cum yet" you told him, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze "fuck me more please" you asked him, and he smiled at you, pressing a loving kiss to your neck "anything for you master."

He pulled out of you and you wanted to object, but your words got stuck in your throat as he turned you on your back, and put you into a mating press before quickly entering you again "please scream my name some more" he asked politely before continuing his volatile pace. His cock was so deep inside you, you could feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix with every punishing yet delicious thrust. It almost made you go insane, it didn't take long until you came again. You screamed out his name again as you came on his cock, your release squirting out, and drenching him. You could hear his balls slapping your ass while he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and the impossible tightness of your cunt, sloppily kissing you to swallow all of your noises. He broke the kiss, and licked the tears off your face, thinking how pretty you were even when you were completely fucked out.

Lycaon couldn't tolerate a mess, but he started to love making a mess out of you.

He buried his face in your neck again, feeling himself slowly getting closer to his own climax. He felt his balls tighten as he started to moan louder, notifying you that he was going to finish soon "please let me cum in you y/n" he pleaded, and you let out an especially loud moan after you heared him call you by your name "let me breed your pussy please" he pleaded again, burying his head in your neck, desperate to fill you to the brim with his seed. You crossed your legs behind his back just above the base of his tail, catching his attention before you whispered in his ear "breed me Lycaon" which completely send him over the edge. After a few final strong thrusts, he pressed his cock as deep inside you as he could, drowning your womb with his cum, as your Name kept falling from his lips like a sinful chant. You felt the warmth of his seed as he throbbed and pulsed inside you. Your gaze landed on the Wolf thiren above you, mesmerized by his expression, by his half lidded eye, and his parted lips as he tried to catch his breath, revealing his pearl white fangs in a silent snarl. Clearly he enjoyed himself just as much if not even more than you did.

Lycaon himself was almost drooling from the sensation as he continued to pump his cum into your fluttering pussy. This was by far the most intense orgasm he has ever had in his entire life, nothing could ever compare to it. Especially not his hand when he would stroke himself to the thought of you underneath him like you were right now. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he came down from his high. You could feel his cock still throbbing inside your cunt, realizing that he was still painfully hard despite having cum twice already. He grabbed your hips before gently sitting both of you up, you brokenly moaned as his cock sank deeper inside you. You took in his disheveled appearence, it instantly reminded you of that night as you voiced out what you've been thinking the entire time "you're beautiful", your voice barely above a whisper. Lycaon let out a small whine as he started to slowly thrust up into you, kissing you apologetically as he tried to muffle your screams from being overstimulated. "I'm sorry, just one more load I promise" he told you, his cock squelching through the load he had already filled you with. He took one of your nipples in his fanged mouth, his canines gently tracing against the sensitive bud as he sucked on it "I'm close" you told him and he kissed you again. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, a mess of teeth and tongues as you both chased your final releases for the night. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stronger than any other orgasm you had earlier, and you stopped thinking. Your head couldn't form a single coherent thought, and in the heat of the moment you opened your mouth, biting Lycaon's shoulder as hard as you could. It caught him off guard, and he grabbed your ass as he mercilessly impaled you on his length, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind as he repeated the same sentence over, and over "I love you y/n". Finally he let out a loud moan filling you once again to the brim with his release as you clamped down on his cock, milking him for all he's worth. But it was too much, and his cum slowly dripped out of your pussy as it ran down his pulsing shaft. Both of you breathed heavily as he looked at his shoulder, small red spots forming from your bite mark, and that was the moment he knew he had to marry you, no questions asked.

He gently layed your exhausted body down into the unsoiled sheets, wanting to get up in order to clean you both up, but you stopped him "stay" he turned his attention to you "we can clean up tomorrow" you said, your voice heavy with sleep, and exhaustion. He smiled lovingly, carefully lying down next to you as he pulled you into his soft embrace, his length however remained buried in you. He kissed your head, thanking you for letting him share this experience with you as the sensation of his soft fur slowly lulled you to sleep.

---~---

Sunlight found its way through the parted curtains. Slowly your eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep as your eyes fell on Lycaon, the Wolf thiren himself was still fast asleep. You reached a hand up, first caressing his cheek, and then slowly moving up to his ears, gently petting them, and gushing over how incredibly soft they were. You moved your hand to scratch behind his ear, and he let out a satisfied little grumble as his hold on you tightened ever so slightly. You heared his tail thumping against the mattress as you intently listened to the little sounds he made, only to be interupted by a familiar stretch as you felt his cock harden again. You stopped for a moment unsure of what to do now. You didn't want to wake him, he deserved his rest after how well he had fucked your brains out last night. Your hand ran down his chest again, gently groping his peck as you moved lower, letting your hands run over his defined abs. You bit your lip, slowly moving your hips while your hand continued to roam his body. You looked at his expression, noting how he furrowed his brow to the sensation of you fucking yourself on his morning wood. He moaned quietly as you tried to take him even deeper, moving your hand around to first run down his back, and then mischeviously grabbed a handfull of his ass.

You eyes fell on his eyepatch, and his muzzle, as you realized that he hadn't taken them off before he fell asleep. You couldn't help your curiousity from invading your mind, wanting to once again see him without them. Only this time you wanted to look at him properly. You pondered if you should ask him about it once he woke up, not realizing that the moment you thought about was just upon you. You halted your hip's movement when you felt his hand grab your thigh, gently kneading it "I wish you a good morning as well" he spoke, his voice low and filled with sleep. "M-morning" you said, feeling a tad bit embarassed that he had caught you red handed like this, even though you've been playing a risky game from the start, knowing that the sensation of your velvet walls could always break his slumber. "Sorry" you apologized, and he huffed feeling like teasing you a bit "what are you apologizing for master?" He asked, kissing you on the crown of your head. "You know... for..." you said, hoping he would understand what you ment without you having to voice it. But he deleberately played dumb, something you noticed "I'm sorry it seems I don't quite follow" he said, and you shot him a little glare "I'm sorry for... grinding myself on you" your face now almost the same shade of red as his eye. Truth is, he had been awake for much longer than you, silently admiring you. As he felt you fucking yourself on his dick, he had no intention of stopping you, why would he? You were just so precious.

He lifted your head with his fingers, kissing you deeply. You moaned as your tongue moved against his, wanting to continue grinding against him, but his firm grip stopped you. You hoped that he'd once again fuck you stupid like last night, the fire in your stomach igniting, and setting your nerves ablaze. But Lycaon had other plans, as he broke the kiss, and slowly unseathed himself, you moaned at the sudden feeling of emptiness. You made him aware of your discontent, wanting to keep going but he just smiled, and pressed another kiss to your head before he got out of bed.

He was teasing you, you knew it. Sure, you were suprised that he had it in him, but you also knew that this was a game both of you could play. He scratched the back of his neck as he made his way towards the bathroom, he turned his head wanting to give you another glance. Instead, stopping dead in his tracks as his eye fell between your thighs again. He watched as his cum began to slowly leak from your core, and he could feel a tinge of discontent shoot through his brain, a feeling he could neither describe nor pinpoint. Its supposed to stay inside, he thought as he watched you reach down to your pussy, scooping up his release on your fingers, and pushing them back inside your heat. His mouth watered again as he watched you finger yourself, while you watched his hand gently stroking his once again erect cock. Suddenly you stopped, and he fought with himself not to pummel you, but instead he cleared his throat, realizing that he had totally fallen for your trick. "We should get cleaned up" you said, closing your legs and breaking his trance "right" he responded shortly, making his way over to you "one moment I'll help you" he picked you up gently, carrying you to the adjacent bathroom.

He put you down on your wobbly legs, as you held onto the sink in order not to fall over. Unfortunately neither his nor your bathroom had a bathtub, both having admittedly very spacious showers instead. He turned the shower on, holding his hand under the water to set it to the right temperature, hoping that it wasn't to hot for you. Against popular beliefe, Lycaon very much enjoyed hot showers and baths in contrast to the Ice he operated with in combat. You watched him as he got on one knee, reaching out one of his hands for you to take, patting his left thigh with the other as a silent invitation for you to sit on it. The warm water, and Lycaon's hands felt good as he gently massaged your sore body "last night was beyond amazing" you spoke, leaning your head against his shoulder "I'm very glad you enjoyed it" he replied, and you could hear the smile on his face.

You once again noticed that, dispite being in the shower, he was still wearing his eyepatch and muzzle. "Can I ask you something" you started, running your hands up and down his soaked back "of course, anything" he replied, rubbing your bodywash on your back. "Can you take your those off?" You asked, running a finger over the leather of his muzzle. He halted his movement for a moment, and your heart hammered against your rip cage. "Of course you don't have to if you don't want to, I didn't mean to pry" you rambled, thinking that your curiousity had offended him. Lycaon however thought that it was now well enough time that he would show you, to place the same trust in you that you placed in him. He put a finger to your lips, gently shushing you before he sat you down in front of him. His fingers moved to undo the clasps of his eyepatch - to remove the last wall he had build up.

He put both to the side, now being fully exposed to you, not just physically, but also emotionally. "Just be warned that it is rather... unpleasant to look at" he said. You gently took his hand in yours as you looked at him "May I?" You asked, and he nodded, understanding what you ment "please do" he replied as you moved your hand towards his face, gently brushing his hair to the side to take a proper look at him.

His left eye was rendered shut indefinetly as it was covered by a giant scar, another smaller cross shaped scar having its place on his right, atop his muzzle. He studied your expression, trying to discipher it, as your fingers traced over his scars. Normally he would have recoiled, not even he himself touched it often, the memory of its creation still too painful for him to fully confront. But your touch felt... nice, very nice. His voice broke the silence as it bounced of the shower walls "I want to tell you about me" he started "I love you, and you deserve to know..." he carassed your cheek "...to know who I was." You stayed silent while you listened to him, rubbing soothing circles on his hand as he spoke. He told you about his criminal past as a thief for Mockingbird, his then partner, the betrayal, and about how he chose to leave this life behind to change for the better. His gaze wandered down to his legs, and he swallowed thickly. It has been a long while since he had last talked with someone about this part of him. "I- uh... in regards to my legs" he stammered, his discomfort about the topic clearly written across his face. You reached out to him, giving him a peck on his nose, the sudden act of affection making him halt his explination "I'm so proud of you" you said, caressing over the small scar on his muzzle "and I'm grateful for the trust you place in me, I swear I'll honor it" you place a hand on his mechanical knee, the water had made it warm to the touch compared to the metallic coldness it normally displayed "if you're not ready to talk about it yet, that's absolutely alright" his ears dropped a little in dissapointment, less towards you and more towards himself "I'm sorry" he said quietly but you just caringly shook your head "there is no need, I feel very happy that you told me about yourself" you replied, and leaned in close, letting your lips ghost over his "I love you too Lycaon" your lips connected with his, a kiss so gentle and so full of love Lycaon feels all his worries melt away in the warmth of the moment, and your affection. He deepened the kiss his tongue finding its way once again into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, a sound that he loved so much "you're eager" you said after breaking the kiss to catch your breath "is it alright if we continue where we last left of?" He asked, kneading your inner thigh with his hand. His cock once again stood at full attention, ready and eager to please you, just like him. You gently took his length in your hand, running your thumb over his, already precum leaking tip "i'd love to" you said giving it a few pumps "If you let me suck you off again" you told him, a mischievous smirk on your face, an expression he actually mirrors "if you let me eat you out again" he replies.

a few minutes later, Lycaon stood in the shower, leaning himself with his arm against the shower wall, shielding you from the downpour as you sucked on his cock. His free hand gently combed through your hair as your tongue ran over the head of his cock. He couldn't help but think of how you had sucked him off yesterday, the image of you taking his cock balls deep was still fresh, and remained so unbelievable hot to him. Would you do that again if he asked you? "Master wait a second" he placed a hand on the top of your head, gaining your attention "what's wrong?" You asked, and his hand returned to comb through your hair "everything is alright, I would just... like to try something if you're alright with that" you perked up at his proposal "absolutely! What did you have in mind" you asked him, teasingly slapping his dick against your cheek, enjoying his reaction as he watched you "can you do it like yesterday?" He asked, and you understood. Of course his reaction to you deepthroating him yesterday hadn't been lost on you, and you smiled up at him "of course" you said, rubing his stomach. Without further ado you took him back in your mouth, enjoying his moaning as you once again shoved his impressive length down your throat. You let out a little noise of surprise as he slowly started to move his hips back, and forth "I'm sorry, is this ok?" He asked, you giving him a playfull thumbs up as he gently facefucked you. He ever so slightly picked up his pace, and you knew he was gonna cum soon "I'm going to cum soon master" he warned you, originally wanting to pull out before he climaxed, but before he could you reached around him, grabbing the base of his tail. A little yelp escaped him as he looked down at you, understanding the look on your face instantly. He nodded in a little silent "ok" before he started moving again, his breathing becoming more rugged with every thrust "I'm coming" he said, flooding your mouth. He looked at you as you swallowed his load, completely starstruck and in awe.

You were beyond perfect.

He gently removed his still twitching member from your mouth, leaning down to capture you in a sloppy kiss. Tasting his release on your tongue just like you had done yesterday, and it drove him feral. "Your turn" He said, breaking the kiss, and made you stand up "wait, my legs are still weak" you said but he told you not to worry before he leaned you against the wall, putting your legs on either side of his head before diving between them without warning. He wasted no time lapping on your folds, and sucking on your clit, your moans only seeming to encourage him more. You were close, and grabbed a fistfull of his hair, grinding against him as you came closer, and closer to the edge. But before you could finish, he pulled away, giving your inner thigh a little bite. You looked down, making eyecontact with him. Originally you wanted to ask him why he stoped, but he spoke before you "please look at me when you cum" he said, licking your inner thigh. You nodded in agreement, and he dove back between your legs, continuing his assault. Finally you toppled over the edge as you came, once again grabbing a fistfull of his wet hair, grinding yourself against his face. You moaned loudly as you watched him swallow your release without breaking eyecontact. You let go of his hair, gently smoothing it down as a silent apology. He placed a small kiss against your clit, and you shuddered "May I continue please?" He asked you while he carassed your thighs "yes you may, but not in this position" you breathed out, and he obliged. Carefully laying you down in the shower. He gently took hold of your hips, elevating them to bring your pussy closer to his mouth before he started to once again pleasure you with it. In this lewd position you could see even more clearly what he did to you, as you watched him tonguefuck you again. Dispite all that, he kept eyecontact with you, gobbeling up all the expressions that your face made as he worked your body. You didn't last long "I-I'm gonna cum again!" You said, reaching for his hand to hold onto. He laced his fingers with yours as another orgasm hit you, some of your release dripping onto your chest. Lycaon carefully lowered your hips before getting on top of you. Your eyes remained fixed on him while he licked up the remnants of your cum from your titts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth to suck on it. He ran his tongue over your left nipple before he released it with a popp, and switched his attention to the other "do you wish to continue?" He asked, pumping his cock which you noticed "yes I do" you replied. He gave you a quick kiss before sitting back, making you straddle his lap, his cock twitching against your cunt "this way you can direct the pace" he told you. You grabbed behind you, taking his cock in your hand before guiding it to your entrance. Slowly you lowered yourself on him, his own eyes entranced by how your pussy swallowed his member "just a little bit more, you got this" he told you before your hips met his. His dick now fully sheathed inside you again.

You carefully started bouncing on his cock, holding onto his shoulders for support as you moaned in unison. You threw your head back in pleasure, and he found his attention once again drifting to your beautiful breasts. The way they bounced up and down seeming to hypnotize him, as he leaned foreward to once again suck on your left nipple, kneading the other one with his hand. Your pace slowly stagnated, and he looked up at you "do you need a break master?" He asked concerned, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you took. You leaned foreward, brushing his hair to the side again before placing a gentle kiss on his scar "I ment what I said last night" you spoke through deep breaths "you're beautiful" you carassed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. You then leaned foreward to whisper into his ear "so please, ravage me again like you did last night."

You yelped in surprise as Lycaon grabbed your ass before abruptly standing up, with you still impaled on his cock. He pressed you with your back against the shower wall, kissing your forehead before he spoke "your wish is my command" with that he fucked into you at a brutal, and demanding pace, the small drops of water that came out of the shower head bounced right off his back. "You make me feel so good, so happy" he babbled, already completely pussydrunk as he ground his cock against your cervix, wanting to make you scream his name again. And that you did, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, as if he would vanish if you let go. You burried your face in his neck, telling him over, and over how much you loved him, his tail wagging in pure ecstasy at your declaration. "I-I'm close, I'm close again!" You cried out to him "I'm close as well" he whsipered in your ear "do you want me to pull out?" He asked, licking over your neck, feeling how quick your pulse was "no, please don't pull out!" You said, his moaning getting louder at your pleading "please cum inside me again!" he picked up his pace even more, hammering his cock into you.

If you wanted him to fill you pretty pussy with his seed again, who was he to deny his perfect mate her wish.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by a familiar sensation on his shoulder, noticing you biting him again. His heart swelled at the act of you marking him - making him yours.

And this time he followed your lead, as he leaned in, and bit your shoulder again, his fangs punching right through your tender skin. The overwhelming satisfaction shooting like electric currents through his veins, as he fully indulged in his instincts. The little voice in his head repeating the same word over, and over.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The sting of pain sending you over the edge, clawing you hands in the fur at the back of his neck as you clamped down on his dick. Lycaon moaned loudly, still needing a little push for his own climax. He felt his balls tighten again as he fucked you through your orgasm, finally arriving at his own. After one last final thrust, he fully burried his cock in you, filling your womb with pulse after pulse of warm cum. He felt a tad bit light headed as he kept filling you with so much cum, it oveflowed from your poor abused cunt and splashed against the tiles of the shower.

Both of you remained in this position for a while, breathing heavily while you slowly recovered from the intense orgasms that had ravaged your bodies. You held eachother close, as Lycaon ran his tongue over your bite mark, licking up the small pearls of red forming on it "I can't feel my legs" you chuckled, and he followed short. He slowly pulled out, sitting you down on the warm tiles of the shower before kneeling in front of you "I'm sorry, it seems I've bitten you to hard" he carefully ran his wet fingers over your wounded shoulder, still silently marveling at how it looked on you. You leaned your head against Lycaon's chest while he carefully cleaned you, apologetically kissing your bite mark. "Are you alright?" He asked you, his hand running up and down your back. More so to soothe his own concern. "It's quite alright" you respond, being cut off by the grumbling of your stomach "just very hungry" he chuckled again "I will prepare breakfast as soon as we're cleaned up."

After getting both of you, and the shower cleaned up, he turned off the water. He opened a window to rid the bathroom of the steam the hot shower had filled it with, wondering how much time had passed while you two had indulged in eachother. Looking around he noticed the small droplets of water clinging to the walls, the mirror, and the furniture. A small drop of water fell on his nose, sighing as he noticed the condensed water dripping from the ceiling lamp. He definetly had some cleaning to do before both of you departed tomorrow.

His eye fell on your tired form in his arms, and he smiled.

But that had time, right now he wanted to make sure you were alright. After drying both of you off he placed you back on the bed, scavenging the room for his boxers while you had once again drifted off to sleep. Lycaon made his way towards the living room to pick up his pants he had abandoned there yesterday, his eye falling on the stains on the sofa cushion, and the carpet. Those stains were by no means difficult to get rid off, the problem was the big claw shaped tear in it, the wadding starting to pool out of it. He cringed, running his hand through his hair as he wondered how he would explain the damage to the owner.

--~--

Part 4 ->

To be continued ->

I hope you enjoyed this part. It was definetly shocking to me that my mind was able to come up with something so grafic, but life is to short to think about if something is cringe or not. Lastly I want to inform you that I'll probably close this Story off with a shorter epilogue. After that I will upload a masterlist with all parts on my Blog for easy accessibility. In the coming days I will inform you about the projects I have planned for the future. I hope you stay tuned for that.

-Elio

[nakylvr]

here are some of my personal hcs, jay! expand on them if you want to:)

spidey megs def exposed her identity multiple times to no avail; nobody ever believes her because she’s unserious

spidey megs would definitely use her powers to her advantage in her daily life, she’s honestly very reckless. it’s really surprising no one’s caught her yet.

spidey megs tends to try to solve conflict by trying to reason first before fighting–it usually never works but the thought is appreciated by sophia ( who i headcannon would be her ned in a sense )

spidey megs has trouble with her dyslexia on missions, so much so that everyone just gives her a transmitter and hope to god that it works. last time she tried to read up on the villain beforehand she got her ass beat😭

spidey megs likes to promote fanart, fan fictions, fancams–really anything about spider woman despite it being her. it makes her look like a lesbian weirdo superfan.

spidey megs is definitely a loser. when she gets a crush, her powers go haywire😞 one time she was walking behind you on her way to class and accidentally got stuck on the staircase into the building. ( she had to ditch her shoes and her socks )

spidey megs is always posting on her personal account in places she should not be at. it really begs the question why nobody ever believes her, esp when she’s on the side of the empire state building 💔

when spidey megs did interviews, she stuttered a lot. it was to the point that reporters just covered the rescue and skipped it entirely. it is like that to this day.

spidey megs does dance trends after fighting villains if she’s not bruised up too much. ( her favorite is wall dancing )

as a girlfriend, spidey megs goes for grand gestures, using her alter-ego to show how much she loves you. you want flowers? yeah, she’s using superhero status to get you flowers from greece. you want thai food? completely authentic–she’s going there for you right now. you want a letter? good. after she’s done with this robber, a love letter will appear on the side of a building, proofread before by sophia so it’s perfect. only the best for you, she’s a loser in love.

spidey megs is the type of girlfriend to web somebody that was bothering you to a pole. if there ever is a need for a fight, trust and believe she’s beating ass for you.

spidey megs is really clingy. she’s taking you with her almost everywhere if she knows it’s gonna be safe. even though she wants you with her all the time, she doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt.

you’re giving spidey megs massages and first aid all the time. when you come into the picture, sophia is overjoyed that she’s got less of a workload. megan doesn’t ask for them, not wanting to be too selfish and bother you, but it’s only when you gently coax her into laying down and convincing her she’s okay that lets go.

spidey megs convinces you and sophia to bring speakers to her next big fight in new york, asking you to give her a “theme song.” it was join us for a bite. it became a meme. she’s still pressed about it–the song coming up in her edits and in her personal life makes her so irritated😭

spidey megs is loaded after becoming officially affiliated with the avengers. but before that, she was the broke-as-fuck college vigilante. she totally asked to hold 50 from sophia to buy you things, promising to pay her back. ( she didn’t and never will )

also bonus, when spidey megs first enrolled in college, sophia told her she should take up martial arts or contact sports to explain why she was always looking beat–in short, megan takes jiu jitsu and does wrestling. she also still takes dance as well, just for the flexibility! ( it’s where she meets you😊 )

angst moment: when you die because she couldn’t save you in time, she puts up the mask for a while. she’s in a mix of disassociation and disbelief, refusing to believe that you are truly dead until she’s forced to come face to face with your killer again: this time with sophia’s life on the line.

it’s only then that she chooses to get back into hero life, wanting to honor your memory, and save others from suffering the same fate as you and her.

with love, 🐠

YES GODDDDDD SPIDEY!MEGAN I LOVE YOU SO BAD 💔💔💔 this is all so real i have no words nothing to add ITS BEAUTIFUL and i will be stealing for future spidey!meg fics if thats okay 🫶