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#i liked it better when they were just the group of 5...
afterglowkatie · 2 days
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'i love you' | k.c.c.
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kyra cooney-cross x reader | 3.8k | 5 times someone else realises kyra's feelings for you and the one time kyra realises (or 5 times someone catches Kyra looking at you)
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. i started writing this while writing the last part, i couldn't help it. it's super fluffy and yeah i hope you all like it!
‘Oh what, you change your number now Kyra,’ Katie teased as soon as Kyra appeared on the pitch to start training, ‘Going for the clothes shrunk in the wash look too,’ Katie laughed out while Kyra rolled her eyes and gave her a little shove. Kyra knew what she was getting herself into when she put on your jumper instead of her own. She just couldn’t help herself, wanting to stay wrapped up in you any chance she could get. 
‘I couldn’t find mine,’ Kyra mumbled, shrugging slightly, looking down, suddenly finding the ground suddenly more interesting. Before Katie could tease Kyra any further, you had come running out of nowhere and attaching yourself to Kyra’s side.
‘There’s our number 32,’ You looked up at Katie, eyebrows furrowed confused at her comment until she pointed at her own number then at Kyra. It all made sense when you saw Kyra was wearing your jumper instead of her own. The small smile that was creeping on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Katie and now Caitlin who had appeared at a similar time to you.
‘Oi, where’s yours? I’m freezing,’ You tugged at your jumper while looking at Kyra. Kyra’s face lit up when she realised that she could give you hers since she definitely did bring her own with her just in case.
‘I’ll go get you mine,’ Kyra wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side trying to keep you warm while you both walked back to the locker room. 
‘What happened to not having yours?’ Katie’s voice travelled the small distance you had walked away before making her comment. Kyra shot Katie a glare over her shoulder and continued to walk the two of you away from the other two who were now laughing at Kyra and sharing a knowing look between them, ‘Steph’s gonna love that’ Katie commented towards Caitlin, sarcasm heavy in her voice, they both laughed walking off to join others.
It didn’t take long before you were running back out onto the field for training telling everyone how you were the better number 32 and mimicked Kyra every now and then. Kyra couldn’t keep her eyes off of you throughout training. The way you looked wearing her number she wished she could keep you in it not ever wanting to give you your own back any time soon. Making a note of how she’s going to try and get you to wear one of her jersey’s the next time she has the chance. Kyra’s stomach flipped at the chance of getting to see you with both her name and number on your body.
She also couldn’t help but chuckle whenever you ran around. You had to roll the sleeves of Kyra’s jumper a few times since it was a tad too big on you, even then the sleeves would still roll back down past your hands. It was almost a hazard but neither of you wanted to swap jumpers or take them off any time soon. 
Kyra just watched on, a smile permanently etched into her face, ‘She’s so cute,’ A comment that was whispered quietly that was only meant for Kyra to hear had she been alone.
Katie overhearing the comment and watching the way Kyra’s eyes softened every time they met yours, she knew Kyra’s feelings for you before Kyra even realised them. And then that’s how Caitlin, Vic and Teyah all knew but promised each other that it would stay within that little group. Though from then on Kyra was never free of any teasing from those four. They quite enjoyed watching their friend turn red at the mention of you.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
‘Ky, stop cheating!’ You exclaimed when you realised Kyra was using the reflection of the window’s on the bus to see what cards you had in your hand. You were confused why she wasn’t putting down certain cards until you noticed her glance passed you. You were sat together by yourselves passing the time with different kinds of card games while you were on your way to an away game in Manchester.
‘Oh stop pouting, all’s fair in love and card games,’ Kyra couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic you were pouting, definitely putting it on to try and make her feel bad and give in to let you win the next few rounds to make up for it. But it never did work on Kyra. 
‘Oh yeah? And where’s the love? Hm?’ You crossed your arms trying to stay focused on your pouty and serious act, hard to not break out in a fit of laughter.
‘Please, you know there’s plenty of love right here,’ Kyra joked, laughing and pointing her finger between the two of you. All you could do was roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away pretending to shuffle the cards to hide the way your face flushed slightly. 
‘You know how you said there was plenty of love? Yeah well not right now,’ You huffed after having lost yet another round. Even without cheating, Kyra was still beating you. You made up how she must’ve had psychic abilities but she was quick to shut you down and make fun of how you have the worst poker face and she can read you easily.
After your little outburst you both settled down, deciding to watch a movie on your phone, ‘You really do make a great pillow, Ky,’ Kyra chuckled softly at your comment, letting you get even more comfy against her shoulder. Kyra had her arm wrapped around you, gently rubbing and drawing circles against your arm. That plus the fact you could never stay awake during movies, meant you were out fast asleep within minutes.
Alessia noticed that the corner the two of you were in had quietened down quite a bit. Turning her attention she saw you fast asleep on Kyra’s shoulder. Kyra’s feelings for you being more than just what a best friend would hold was painfully obvious. Though it felt like it was more painfully obvious for everyone that wasn't either you or Kyra.
It wasn’t hard, Alessia wasn’t sitting far from either of you, so she could see things from afar. Like the way Kyra would glance down and just look at you instead of the movie, the smile that was only ever directed towards you. She would have to stifle a laugh every time Katie or someone else was a little too loud and Kyra would try to send them an intimidating glare before making sure you hadn’t woken up yet.
‘Tiny and Kyra…’ Alessia turned to Viv and Beth making sure to talk quietly so no one else could overhear. 
‘They’re cute but it’s frustrating watching the two of them,’ Beth contributed, commenting what Alessia was also thinking and anyone else who had noticed, ‘Kyra’s the most obvious, the protectiveness is bordering being disgustingly cute,’ 
‘Do you think Steph will notice?’ Viv piped up
‘I love Steph but I think that’s where Tiny gets her obliviousness from,’ The three of them laughed loudly at Beth’s comment, earning them a glare from Kyra.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
‘Yeah, girls night!’ You screamed when you were leaving Steph’s apartment. You, Steph and Kyra were on your way to meet up with your fellow Aussies that also lived in London. A time when you were all free on the same night was definitely something worth celebrating.
‘A bit excited are we?’ Steph joked knowing you had been talking about this night all week. Honestly you just liked having a reason to go out and drink your weight in alcohol when you also had the next day to recover from the night. 
‘Loser,’ Kyra knocked into you playfully but joined you in singing and talking Steph’s ear off the entire way to the bar. You cheerfully greeted the girls when you arrived, Sam passing you a shot and a pint as soon as you joined.
‘You’re supposed to be the good influence but I think you’re the worst out of all of us,’ The girls laughed along with Steph at her comment towards Sam. Several drinks later, you were laughing at something Mackenzie had said while trying to hold yourself up against Sam, the three of you attempting to dance.
The others had found a small table to gather around, talking amongst each other. Kyra had tuned most of them out, occasionally nodding along looking like she was paying attention when in reality you had her full attention without even knowing it, ‘Ky…Kyra, earth to Kyra,’ Charli was trying to get her best friends attention noticing she wasn’t paying any attention to what she was trying to tell her. 
Charli rolled her eyes following the direction Kyra’s eyes had been set in, ‘You know she’s not going to magically disappear, right?’ Charli pushed at Kyra’s arm, suddenly bringing her back to being aware of her surroundings. Cheeks instantly heated up when Kyra realised she had been caught staring at you, quickly making sure Steph or Mini had caught on either.
‘I wasn’t staring at her, there was a girl behind her,’ Kyra mumbled out an excuse, trying to be convincing, causing Charli to laugh loudly, bringing attention from the other two their way.
‘You’re a terrible liar,’ Just as Steph was about to open her mouth to ask, you bounded over draping yourself over Kyra’s shoulders, smiling ear to ear and giggling to yourself.
‘Ky, come dance,’ You whined out, trying to pull Kyra up from where she was sitting but almost falling into her lap instead.
‘Are you sure you can?’ Kyra laughed, putting her hands on your waist to help steady you, ‘What’s wrong with dancing with those two,’ Kyra nodded towards where you had just come from, a playful smile on her lips.
‘They’re boring, I wanna dance with you,’ You gave Kyra a pout you knew she couldn’t resist and in an instant Kyra was up with you grabbing her hands and pulling her towards the dance floor. Kyra’s hands on your waist, an attempt to keep you upright and close while you get lost in the rhythm of the music. The two of you smiling and laughing at each other.
‘Yeah go dance with your girl,’ Charli mumbled into her drink watching Kyra get dragged away by you. Charli’s comment went unnoticed by Steph but not by Mini.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
‘Harper!’ You said excitedly as you watched her run towards you when she spotted you and Kyra. You both had gone to support your West Ham friends, being able to see and spend time with Harper was an obvious bonus. Harper ran straight to you and you picked her up, setting her on your hip. 
You smiled at the toddler, ‘Boo West Ham, right Harps?’ You and Kyra both laughed when Harper aggressively shook her head and crossed her arms.
‘No! Go West Ham!’ Refusing to stop frowning and smile until you also said it. You rolled your eyes but gave in to the two year old yelling it loud, earning some side eyes but to you it was worth it to see Harper smile and laugh. 
Kyra recorded the interaction between you and Harper instantly putting it on her instagram story, smiling to herself at some of the comments she got from your teammates. Kyra had been more active on her socials recently, granted it was whenever the two of you had gone out or spent time together. Her recent photo dumps had slowly started to contain more and more of you.
There were the fans that had started speculating that there was potentially something going on between you and Kyra, and then the others that were defending the fact you were just best friends. Either way it didn’t bother Kyra, she just wanted to be able to capture and share certain things about you that made her smile.
Still holding Harper since she refused for you to let her go, never beating the allegations of you being Harper’s favourite even more so since she only gave Kyra a hug as long as you were a part of the hug too. The hug with the three of you definitely ended up on social media fairly quickly.
Mini eventually found the three of you, getting caught up in conversation. Conversation that the toddler on your hip found boring so she tugged on your shirt to get your attention pointing towards a little blanket on the ground that had some markers and books. You separated from Kyra and Mini sitting down on the ground with Harper. 
Kyra and Mini didn’t notice your departure until they saw the two of you sitting on the ground, markers surrounding you while you let Harper colour in the few tattoos you had on your arms. You were a walking colouring book for Harper.
‘They’re so sweet together even if we’re constantly trying to get Harper to understand she can’t just draw on everyone,’ Mini and Kyra both laughed.
‘Yeah they’re both cute,’ Mini smiled looking at Kyra, the comment from Charli the other night and the unmistaken look of love in Kyra’s eyes, it was easy to spot Kyra’s repressed feelings for you.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
‘You’d think Tiny Catley was the only one out here,’ Alanna made a slight comment when passing by Mackenzie when the game wasn’t in play, ‘Whenever there’s a stop Kyra’s always looking around to find Tiny,’ Alanna went back into position when the ball was about to be thrown back in. The rest of the first half it was more obvious to Mackenzie since Alanna’s comment. If anyone was paying that close attention to Kyra they would find her actions almost comical. 
At half time Kyra was quick to be the one to hand you a water and a gel before you had the chance to grab it yourself. If anyone questioned it, not that they would since it wasn’t completely unusual, but if they did Kyra could just brush it off since it was the olympic qualifiers and she wanted to make sure the Matilda’s best forward was hydrated and ready for the second half.
‘Didn’t know I had my own personal servant,’ You joked, smiling and thanking Kyra for the water she had handed you, ‘Let’s go Ky! You gonna assist my next goal?’ You nudged Kyra slightly, laughing a little.
‘So so humble you are,’ Kyra chuckled, her arm slightly grazing against your own.
‘I mean, you do call me our best forward right,’ You raised your eyebrow at Kyra. She was caught off guard at your comment, she had said that but it wasn’t to you, ‘People tell me stuff,’ You shrugged and jogged away from Kyra into position before the start of the next half. 
Kyra almost did assist you and you almost did get the hat trick that you wanted. Only problem was the bad tackle the opposition threw your way. You were on the right, close to goals and about to take the shot when the opposition came running into you. A mistimed tackle causing them to catch your ankle instead, the opposition falling into you causing you to fall forwards. 
You were lucky to have missed falling into the goalpost and instead landing right beside it. Though you were unlucky to land on your elbow the way you did. Pain shooting through your right arm, as well as radiating from your ankle that had been stood on. You didn’t know what part of you to hold on to, all you could feel was the pain radiating through your body. You laid on the ground trying to catch your breath and getting the strength to move.
As soon as Kyra witnessed what happened to you all she saw was red. Kyra just saw you on the ground and the defender walking away seemingly unharmed and she couldn’t control herself. It was like there was no one else around, the full stands and all the players nearby were completely blocked out. 
A sloppy, mistimed and reckless tackle that had you injured also had Kyra shoving the defender full force. The opposition stumbled back, a mix of anger and confusion towards Kyra. In a matter of seconds, that one shove from Kyra had started a small fight between the two. Alanna was the closest and quickest at pulling Kyra away before it got more heated.
‘Look I know you like her but you can’t leave us a player down,’ Kyra was still too worked up to properly process Alanna’s words, only knowing it was an attempt to get Kyra to calm down. 
‘Did you see that?’ Kyra exclaimed, putting her hands up in frustration, ‘That was just so poor and so bad and now she’s,’ Kyra’s voice trailed off when she turned to look at you again, a frown etched onto her face while her eyes showed a deep level of concern for you.
‘Kyra,’ Alanna put her hands on the younger girls shoulders getting Kyra to look at her, ‘You let the refs deal with it, which they are, what she needs from you is to be able to stay out here and finish this game. Finish it for her. You know she’ll be sat there watching the rest too stubborn to let anyone make her get proper medical attention straight away,’ Kyra closed her eyes for a minute letting herself calm down and take in what Alanna was saying, ‘You don’t want her to see you get sent off for something stupid like that,’
Soon enough Kyra returned calm and focused. More focused on you then she was of the defender that had hurt you. Clapping along with the rest of the stadium once you were back up on your feet and getting helped off the pitch. 
‘Show them the real wrath of Kyra Cooney-Cross for me,’ Is all you said to Kyra when she went to make sure you were okay while you passed by her.
A few days later it was confirmed that you had broken your ankle. Kyra had stayed with you the entire time throughout each appointment and scan, even being able to stay longer with you in Australia before making your way back to England. It wasn’t an ideal time for you to have gotten injured, though you both are thankful it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Though it still wasn’t ideal, you’d finally worked your way into the starting XI multiple times recently for arsenal. 
The length of time you were going to be missing games for had started to cause some old insecurities to rise within you again. It was hard, you were finally able to start properly showing arsenal what you had to offer them and then it felt like it was all taken away from you. You didn’t let your insecurities show for a little while. But sitting out at the games watching your teammates, it was getting harder to keep it down.
Kyra started noticing that you weren’t quite yourself at the moment, it would’ve been hard for her to miss it. Especially with how attentive she’d been and how supportive and helpful. Steph had joked that she might as well just move in with how much time she’s spent at Steph’s apartment helping you with whatever you’ve needed. Wanting to make sure your recovery went as smoothly as possible, wanting to make your life a little bit easier right now.
You were being driven back to the apartment and Kyra couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were. Sure you hadn’t been yourself recently but being as quiet as you were now was definitely worrying. As soon as you made it to your bedroom Kyra went to ask if you were okay but the way you threw your crutches to the ground, she instantly got her answer.
‘Ky,’ Your voice was small and cracked a little. Not being able to keep how you were feeling down any longer you broke. Tears flowing freely down your face. In a heartbeat Kyra had wrapped her arms around you, letting you sob into her shoulder. She managed to manoeuvre you so you were both now sitting on your bed, Kyra against the headboard while you laid your head on her chest.
‘Sorry Ky,’ You mumbled once you had calmed down a little bit.
‘Hey, no. No apologising, talk to me. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?’ Kyra’s voice had always been comforting for you, she made you feel safe.
‘I’m just worried Ky,’ You started, voice small and fingers tracing over the logos of Kyra’s hoodie, ‘What if this puts me back to square one? I’ve worked so hard recently and what if it was all for nothing because of this stupid injury. What if they realise that someone else is way better and then I’m back to just being a sub. Like I know there’s nothing wrong with that but I enjoy playing,’ Kyra listened intently while you rambled on and let out all of the thoughts that had been eating at you for a little while now.
‘Like you said, you’ve worked so hard and that hard work isn’t going to be forgotten. Everyone knows and even now can still see how hard you’re working. The lengths you go to, to support the club and everyone every single game and training and bonding night, none of it goes unnoticed. You’ll be right back as a starter in no time. You’re my star girl at least,’ Kyra whispered the last part and you smiled small at her words.
‘Thank you, Ky,’ Letting Kyra’s words sink in, she always knew the right words to say to get you to feel better. Kyra definitely knew you better than anyone else knew you, she even knew you better than yourself, ‘Kyra,’ You trailed off.
‘What’s up?’ Kyra furrowed her eyebrows at the way you had hesitated.
‘Can- can I have your hoodie?’ Kyra smiled relieved, she didn’t even think for a second before she peeled her hoodie off leaving her in just a sports bra while she put her hoodie over your head.
You hummed in appreciation and got even more comfy against Kyra. Being wrapped up in Kyra and her hoodie, it was perfect. Kyra put a movie on, fingers massaging your scalp. You fell asleep against her pretty quickly having worn yourself out with your breakdown earlier. Kyra couldn’t help but take a photo of you laying against her chest wearing her hoodie. 
The longer Kyra looked at the photo and then down at you, the more her stomach flipped and the faster her heart raced. Her breathing picked up a little, but not drastic enough to wake you up, while the realisation had come crashing down on her.
She looked at you one more time, smiling at how peaceful you looked and how much she enjoyed having you in her arms, ‘I love you,’ Kyra had said it so softly, but now she had actually voiced her feelings for you. Finally making it real for herself and no longer suppressing her feelings for you.
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twisted-gremlin · 3 days
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So I wanna say
I HC Vil absolutely analyzes people based on their clothing choice, how they stylize it, if they are wearing makeup, how often they use it, how much, etc.
The man is an actor, so I'm sure he would be sure to have authentic characterization based on clothing, makeup, and how one takes care of their complexion and how often they do it.
Im sure he profiled everyone that came in for auditions.
Chapter 5 and 6 spoilers:
Ruggie profile: I feel like he easily saw that Ruggie was only in it for the money, the way his body moved, the way he acted, the way he has dressed. He was dressed for an easy escape, the rolled up sleeves and pant legs with the open jacket to easily take off. The clothing hangs off of his body, so it may be a hand me down or second hand from a previous Savanaclaw student (maybe Rook?). His gym uniform is put together quite well for speed, so for running, to do something and flee easily.
Epel profile: he appears to be feminine (maybe even born female but identifies as a male), he wore his ceremonial robes improperly. He is clearly trying to act more stereotypically masculine, aiming to be a stereotypical masculine man, physically and mentally. He doesn't like anything about his own physical form. So Vil decides to show him what true strength is, knowing ones own weaknesses and strengths, and useing them both to your advantage
Ortho profile: Ortho would dsfonately be hard to read due to him being a robot and haveing yet to fully come into himself as a liveing being. He probably saw how all the movements were just copies, not authentic, not something he could be. (He would go on to do this work with Ortho in the Second Fairy Gala)
Lilia profile: Lilia was clearly excited to take this chance and do what he couldn't have done before. Like Ruggie, his uniform is more loose and made for more speed. Except he radiates more michift than malace, or neediness. He seems to want to stand out and be his own being while being apart of something he cares about. His dancing movements were quick, elegant, rigid, hesitant, and not what he asked of.
Ace profile: Ace seems to be dressed for a mix of offense and Defence and good durability, good for a basketball player. The coat around his waist could show that if needed, he can break the rules and is very adaptable too as well as being a casual thing/takeing the sport a little bit seriously. His dancing wasn't the best but it was clear that he trained with Jamil and Kalim to do better. So he knows where to go to get what he needs to improve on and will listen aswell. He seems enthusiastic about joining the group aswell.
Deuce profile: has a bit more bulk, but dosent have the sleeves on the arms of his gym uniform so probably more ready for a fight and long distance running. He is dressed well put together, looking like a good role model (like what ortho says in the White Rabbit Fest: Deuce is the kind to dress for the job that you want) when dancing he is probably the most rigid but also went to Kalim and Jamil for help with performing so also seems to be willing to get help when needed. Witch is good for his goals
Kalim profile: so first of note would be the tattos, we have only seen him and Leona have any (so far, who knows if Deuce or someone has a secret one) so it may be a sign of status here. He has rolled up pants as to not trip on the legs while doing something, very short sleeves and a sweater. He is clearly not as miscivious as Ace in this regard, so it's much more of a casual thing for him/takeing sports seriously. His band is less frilly and has nothing hanging off of it, so it's clear that his perferd activity is breakdanceing, perfect and well adaptable for Vils means
Jamil profile: Jamil, much like Kalim is dressed for break dancing, but the arm bands also suggest he plays basket ball. He is clearly much more disciplined than Kalim while performing witch would show why Vil chose Jamil over Kalim(witch would be a first and make Jamil very happy).
When Vil has the SDC crew stay with Yuu and Grim, it's to help make them understand a poor liveing condition that could easily happen to anyone, to help engage that bit of kindness towards others who may need it. Like Yuu and Grim at that time.
I'm sure it served as a bit of a wakeup call to everyone there, including himself, and helped drive them to win in a way.
After their loss they still decided to donate to Ramshakle and repair the building.
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mangostar · 2 years
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NOOO WAY LOVE LIVE IS DROPPING A  NEW GAME !!!!!
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The Walking Dead seasons from best to worst (in my opinion):
1. Season 5
2. Season 3
3. Season 4
4. Season 1
5. Season 2
6. Season 6
7. Season 9
8. Season 11
9. Season 10
10. Season 7
11. Season 8
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fleshdyke · 1 year
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exploding my math teacher with my mind rn
#theres so many layers to the trish lore#i do not want to call her my math teacher so i am calling her trish. get fucked#like first things first i used to be ‘friends’ with her daughter in like grade 2 and 3 bc we were the same age#but also her daughter like. bullied me.#and she goes to my school now and ive only been in one class with her last year and afaik she’s nice enough now just annoying#and so i’ve been to her house a couple times. i have been in my math teacher’s house when i was like 7#and her husband is a cop btw. bc of course he is#anyways she treats us like actual 4 year olds despite literally never having taught any younger than grade 9#and she gave us 4 pages of work each with like 30-50 questions on them and they were all really complicated. ON THE SECOND DAY#and then i laughed at a thing my friend said yesterday one (1) time and two boys were like. quietly talking at the back of the class.#and other than that it was completely silent. but she went on a tangent about how this is an academic course and she expects better for like#5 minutes. like girl first of all we are teenagers what did you fucking expect. were you wanting perfect maturity and professionalism from a#group of 16 year olds. and also she’s been teaching hs math for over a decade like girl you should know this by now…#OH ALSO when i was friends w her daughter my mom talked to her yk bc thats how parents work when youre little#and this mf woman somehow looped my mother into a PYRAMID SCHEME#LIKE…#rambles
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roaringroa · 11 months
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just saw a goat in the park???
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indecisivemuch · 4 months
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Look at me
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)
Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)
Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.
Word count: 4.8k
“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.
It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.
It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 
It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 
Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 
You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.
One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 
Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 
Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.
For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.
You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 
Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.
Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 
Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.
Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 
The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 
Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.
“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.
You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 
Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.
You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 
Yet, he was not there anymore.
~~~
Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..
“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.
“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:
“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 
~~~
Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 
You deserved better. 
“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.
“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 
“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.
“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.
Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 
“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 
“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.
“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.
“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 
His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 
“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.
“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.
“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.
“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”
“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.”
“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.
“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.
“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 
When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 
“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.
Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 
“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.
“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.
“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”
“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.
“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.
You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.
The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.
“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.
“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”
“You punched him quite hard.”
“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 
“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.
“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 
“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”
You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.
“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 
“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”
“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?
“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.
“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.
He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 
"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.
“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 
“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.
“What moves?”
“Uhm—the physical contact?”
“I thought you were just touchy.”
“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”
“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”
“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”
“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.
“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.
“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.
“Kiss me, Luke.”
And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.
You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 
“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”
He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.
“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.
“Will you be mine, sunshine?”
“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”
“I have always been yours.”
——————————
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stevieschrodinger · 8 months
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 1: Kyle
All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could… 
And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.
But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…
The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.
leah: How's Tinder going? 👀
You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:
you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!
Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.
Mia joined not long after with her own opinion. 
mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!
“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.
The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.
You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…
You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.
Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.
leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!
Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.
Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.
Right.
Right.
Right.
Right.
Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.
Right.
Right.
Right.
“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.
You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.
leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.
Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll. 
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“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.
Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio. 
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His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part. 
Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.
Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.
Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀
The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?
you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure. 
Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.
Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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spencereidluver · 6 months
Text
D is for Diana
summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
_____
With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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thinking about that time I was at some kind of diversity and inclusion thing that involved discussion in small groups and one straight girl said she really wanted to be a good ally but sometimes there were some things she just didn’t know and was too afraid to ask for fear of accidentally being offensive. and as the only queer person in this 4-5 person group I said well go ahead and ask me, I don’t care if you accidentally use the wrong term right now or whatever, it’s better to talk about it and learn something, I love talking about queerness and I’ll answer the best I can. and she just looked so nervous and in the end wound up refusing to ask for fear of causing offense. and it wasn’t just the group setting, I’ve known straight people to act similarly even when it’s just one on one
and just. you guys. this is what purity culture and the “if you don’t know something you were never a real ally in fact you’re a bigot in fact you’re worse than bigots because you pretended not to be one” attitude does. how can our allies be allies if they’re scared to talk to us? to ask questions, to make mistakes, to learn? can we please bring back the idea of “in good faith”? there’s way more to say here about identity politics and virtue signaling and acting like language is more important than action but I’m too tired for that right now
please feel free to add to the discussion (regardless of if you’re queer or not), I would love to hear about people’s experiences with this and if others feel differently about it
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months
Text
Fake Boyfriend - p1
Pairing - soft!rafe Cameron x virgin!femreader
Summary - you lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.
Warnings - please note there will be individual ratings on each part. But I’d like to keep it 18+ because there will be smut eventually.
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The party was in full swing, you could hear the music from the Uber two streets away. Combing your fingers through your curls, taking a quick glance at yourself through the rearview mirror. Giving the driver an awkward smile when he shamelessly checks you out.
“Seriously y/n, you can’t keep dodging the questions around why you still haven’t had a boyfriend” your best friend pipes up from next to you, your cheeks blushing when the driver's eyes widen. “Shut up!” You exclaimed, taking a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop outside the house.
You wasted no time and darted out of the vehicle, fixing up your shorts. You opted for a chic but casual look of a tight black strapless top and red linen shorts. You didn’t look back to see if Kelsie followed behind you because not even 5 steps later she’s pulling on your bicep, annoyance floods your veins as you stared at her in silence. “Come on babe, I’m not trying to make you feel bad I just genuinely don’t know how the hottest girl in the outerbanks has never been fucked”.
Once again your best friend has embarrassed you in front of an audience, running your hands down your face in anger. You could already hear the whispers, you stormed away from her in silence. You were rounding the corner of the kitchen within moments, slinging back shot after shot. Trying to dull the embarrassment that sat low in your stomach, Kelsie stood beside you in silence. She knew she had crossed a line then by blurting out you were a virgin, so she didn’t stop you when you poured yourself a large cup of cherry vodka.
“Actually Kelsie” you slurred, jabbing your finger into her shoulder. Her forehead creased in the middle, slightly excited to hear what her best friend was about to admit to. “I do have a boyfriend”.
You're not sure why you're lying, but it just slipped off the tip of your tongue. It was easy to lie to her, she lived on the opposite sides of the country. She had no idea who any of the people were on the island unless you introduced her to them.
You watched the corner of her lips turn up into a smile, her hands shaking beside her as though she’s about to squeal out in delight. Your eyes quickly roam your surroundings searching for a suitable male. Your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron who was standing with his usual posse, beers in hand and laughing at whatever they found funny. “Yeah, I have a boyfriend and his name is- Rafe” you state, you catch a few people turn your way at his name and raise their brows.
Rafe wasn’t one for girlfriends, he was more of a one and done kind of guy. So really you should have thought of someone better, Topper was a better option. He was always chasing after some poor girl and being let down constantly.
“Introduce me then” she edges, her eyebrow arches you in question. She nudges you out of the kitchen, your feet are walking towards where Rafe stood. Throwing back your drink in a hurry, hoping the alcohol would numb your brain from this horrible situation that was about to unfold.
“Go on” Kelsie states, crossing her arms in front of her small chest. You know she thinks you're lying and you were, but no way are you going to let her find out.
You clear the back of your throat and step into the group in front of you, they all look at you but don’t say a word. Looking you up and down in question and then looking behind you at your friend.
Rafe’s eyes meet yours and you step in front of him. “Please play along” you beg, he doesn’t move away from you. Your cupping his face and pressing your lips to his, the alcohol had definitely number the anxious butterflies which had now been replaced with something different, you couldn’t quite explain the feeling.
Rafes arm wraps around your waist and his fingers wrap around the nape of your neck, you're unsure why you let his tongue slip into your mouth. You were actually quite enjoying the kiss before your best friend tapped you on the shoulder breaking the kiss up.
“So this is the boyfriend? Damn y/n didn’t take you for the PDA kind of gal” she joked, she dropped her hand out for Rafe to shake. Before you could even say anything he was shaking her hand and giving her a soft smile.
Your eyes wander around the room. The only people looking were his friends, they looked confused but kept their mouths shut and sipped on their beers in amusement.
“Nice to meet you” he said, you had never actually heard his voice before and it was sending shivers down your spine or was that his hand causing the shivers? You hadn’t realized his hand held you by the small of your back. You couldn’t believe you were getting away with the lie. It all felt too easy but that came crashing down instantly when your best friend decided to ask questions, you really hadn’t thought this through.
“So why did you wait all night to tell me you had a boyfriend? I’m your best friend!” Kelsie questioned, you could see the hesitation behind her eyes. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t believe but she also just wanted to know why you’d keep it from her.
“Well my dearest best friend Kelsie, you wouldn’t shut up about it and honestly I wanted to drag it out as long as possible so I could see your face when you saw how gorgeous he is” you state, grabbing Rafe by the jaw and pecking him on the lips. His fingers dug into your hips pulling you closer to him, your own arm wrapping around his waist.
“Well shit! You got a boyfriend! Fucking finally! Hallelujah!” She shouts, jumping up and down on the spot in pure delight. You're not sure why she’s always been obsessed with finding you a boyfriend, or why she really wanted you to get laid. “Honestly 22 and never had a boyfriend shocking!”.
You just about died on the spot, the redness creeped up your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. How many times was she going to embarrass you tonight?
You could hear his friends chuckling under their breaths and whispering but Rafe didn’t budge, you couldn’t bear to look at his face.
“So how did you two meet?”
You're about to tell her we can do proper introductions another day and that we should enjoy the party because she goes back home soon but to your surprise Rafe leans down and kisses your cheek.
“This one got stuck in a lift in my fathers building. I watched her through the security footage and had to get the fire brigade in because the poor thing was hyperventilating”.
Your brows crease in confusion, that has actually happened to you recently but he wasn’t around and you were sure his dad didn’t own the building.
“Anyway I was there when it opened and comforted her and we just clicked” he says, looking down at you with a smirk. He sends you a quick wink and looks back at your best friend who looks like she is about to burst out of excitement.
“How could you keep that from me!! Omg y/n you have a lot of explaining to do!” She exclaimed, pulling you away from Rafe. “I need to steal her away, nice meeting you!”.
You let her drag you away but not before turning around and mouthing thank you to Rafe who nods his head in acknowledgment.
You spend the next two hours making up lies and throwing back more shots, your head feels heavy now and you stabilize yourself by leaning against the fridge. Kelsie has run off to dance to some song with another one of your friends who showed up, you couldn’t stand straight so opted to stay back.
You were so deep in thought you didn’t feel the person moving you away from the fridge and into a seat, your eyes looking around to find Rafe sat next you.
“Oh hey boyfriend!” You laughed, patting his solid chest and ogling him shamelessly. “Hey girlfriend”.
The words send goosebumps all over your skin, tingles running down your legs. You give him a soft smile and accept the bottle of water he hands you.
“So I’m going to take you to a room upstairs because I don’t trust any of these guys especially as you're just about floating off that chair, we can talk in the morning”.
You're nodding your head and letting him scoop you from the chair, your head nuzzles into the crook of his neck and the moment his foot hits the first step your out like a light.
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love-that-we-were-in · 2 months
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lighting the fuse might result in a bang
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pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 
“Why aren’t you ready?” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 
“Fancy a rematch?” 
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 
“How many beers have you had?” 
“Three, I think?” 
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 
So you say it anyway. 
“I bet I could outdrink you.” 
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?” 
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 
“Are you going to?” 
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?” 
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes. 
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 
“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 
“We can share.” 
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 
“You’re on, Castellan.” 
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore. 
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 
“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 
“Seriously?” 
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
763 notes · View notes
ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
Note
the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)
Oof fuck yeah 😎
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)
He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.
And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe
You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs
He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm
“You have any idea what you’ve done?”
“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance
“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”
“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,
“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”
(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)
After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door
Consequences, love
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
The least restraint out of all of them tbh
He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team
As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers
You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest
“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys
“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building
“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”
He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you
By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished
John Price:
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-
John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you
So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.
Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.
He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited
You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’
If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.
And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.
He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom
The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable
You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand
‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’
He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.
And serve you he did.
7K notes · View notes
ilythena · 3 months
Text
𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 || 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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★SUM when you decide to break up with your boyfriend, you never thought you’d end up sleeping with his enemy.
SMUT!!!! Fem reader, one night stand turned lovers, oral (F and M receiving), sloppy make outs, cheating (reader and her bf are cheating on each other), mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t actually happen, hangover sex, creampies, phone sex (readers bf calls and they pick up mid deed), Jack doesn’t give two shits lmao, he’s kinda switchy???, “I can treat you better than he can” trope, reader is a celebrity but her personal work is not mentioned, use of y/n, unhealthy relationships, Jack does not live with Luke in this fic, readers ex boyfriend is not named and can be whoever you’d like it to be.
WC of 3.2K, not proofread 😥
♪ Practice - Drake
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“All I want to do is go out and you’re already acting like a bitch.” Your boyfriend says as he buttons up his shirt
“You promised this time we would stay in.” You said from your spot in the room as he shifts his eyes to look at you from the mirror and his brows furrow “so what? You want me to be inside all the time and be boring? I have a social life I have to keep up with, y/n. You can either stop being a pain in the ass about it and come with me or stay here by yourself.” He says as he walks out the room and with a heavy heart you follow him outside.
Sitting in the passenger seat silent he drives you both out to some random club with random people and quickly ditches you without even saying goodbye
Your boyfriend immediately left you in the corner as soon as you both got there, and there you were standing there like you knew you would be. Everyone's drinking and smoking who knows what and it makes your skin crawl at the fact that you have no clue who your even around right now.
"Hey beautiful. What're you doing here alone?" Some random creep says to you and you have to physically hold back from cringing into your skin, the alcohol evident on his breath.
"Sorry, I'm not looking for anyone" you say and quickly down your drink to move to the dance floor to get away. Bumping into strangers you realize the alcohol kicks in quicker than you thought it would. Eventually finding your boyfriend and rolling your eyes at the way he’s obviously flirting with another girl, you quickly realize you’re gonna have to find another way home tonight.
Trying your best to forget about your shitty excuse of a boyfriend, you very quickly start to dance with some random. Though the lights are extremely dark, you could tell he was handsome.
Told you he’s seen you around before, and than he’s been plotting on you for a while. His offering of a drink somehow turnt into you grinding against him and in the blink of an eye you’re stumbling into his apartment, drunk and insanely horny.
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Lightheaded. That's the only word you could use to describe how you feel so early in the morning.
Forcing your eyes open you see the man who’s name is apparently Jack laying on your chest-knocked out asleep. You sigh and grab your phone to check the time: 5:30 am, you have a few notifications from the group chat you and your friends share; most of it just your friends being they’re usual crazy selfs with your other friends entertaining it.
Your hand finds itself into his hair, stroking it while he lets out quiet snores against you. The buzz from the alcohol must've followed you into the next morning cause you still feel so relaxed, head spinning but in a good way. You feel jack shift against you to pull you closer and you look down at him.
His eyes are on you now, mumbling a "good morning" while his hands run down your back and he presses a kiss on your collarbone. The action makes your heart flutter and you whisper "good morning" back to him, hand pushing the hair out of his face while he scoots up to lay his head in the crook of your neck.
“Jack, I really shouldn’t be here-“ “I know you have a boyfriend, pretty girl. I don’t care about him. He doesn’t deserve you.” He cuts you off with a mumble of the last part and you’re stuck in minor shock
You don’t protest his statement knowing that he was right. If your boyfriend can have some fun why can’t you?
You two have simple conversation, him asking what time it was and how you were and you responding. You scrolled through instagram seeing yet another picture of your boyfriend leaving the club with some random woman and he watched silently while rubbing his hands onto your waist. He suddenly hums and makes small pecks into your neck, kissing around until he finds a spot that makes you breathe a little heavier and leaning your head to the side so he can get better leverage at the spot.
"What're you doing?" You whisper, curious but making no effort to stop him. "Kissing you." He replied blankly, mumbling small praises in between the kisses. You move his head so you could kiss him on the lips— sloppily but passionate. He pinches your sides to make you gasp so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning into the kiss.
He moves a knee between your legs so you don't close them, moving your shirt up so he can kiss down your torso until he gets down to your pants. He looks up at you; asking with his eyes if he can remove them and you nod. He wastes no time taking your pants off and removing your underwear, dick twitching when he sees how wet you are.
'''S all for me?" He mumbles into your thigh and you nod again, breath hitching in your throat. "Use your words." He says, kissing up and down your thighs-both arousal and nervousness pooling in your stomach at the sight of him kneeled down in front of you. "Yes. All for you." You say, and you could barely get another word out before he begun to lick a stripe up your slit.
An audible gasp left your mouth while a groan left his, and your hand—that was previously holding your shirt up—flew to his hair and gripped onto it for balance.
"Why didn't you tell me you tasted so good?" Jack said, words coming out slurred due to him not bothering to stop the attack on your pussy. "H-when was I supposed to tell you tha- oh my god." you said, words getting cut off when his tongue circles your clit.
He's really eating you out now, head mushed between your thighs, licking and sucking every part of you his tongue can reach. You don't know how he became so alert so quickly, he just was damn near asleep barely even half an hour ago. The feeling becomes too much, you squirming around and him grabbing both of your thighs to bring you back to him, mumbling a "stay still for me" into your core as he continues.
It's only a few more moments until you get closer to the edge, whines and moans increasing in pitch as Jack inhumanly speeds up. " Jack, I'm close" you whine, and he just hums as he continues. Your thighs closing in on his head as you cum and him groaning, trying to practically drink it before you have to forcefully remove his head from your pussy. His eyes are low, filled with lust and you're panting, trying to catch your breath.
“I’m not done with you, pretty. Let me fuck that loser boyfriend of yours out of your head, hm?” He says as he drags you closer to the middle of the bed, near his now hard dick that was now very obviously poking through his shorts.
The fact that he’s not wearing a shirt makes this process much easier, as all he had to do was slide down his shorts and kick them off. You’re staring at him and you don’t know what to think right now, he’s huge. He looks at you for a brief moment before smirking, “you like what you see?” He says and your face gets a little hot when you realize you’ve been caught. He spits down into his hand and gives you a little show, jerking himself off and teasing his tip on your slit.
“I wanna suck you off” you suddenly blurt out and he can’t help but chuckle a little. “Next time, lovely. If I don’t fuck you right now I think I might explode.”
“Jack please don’t tease me” you whine and he kisses up from your collarbones to your ear, and whispers a beg for it into your ear. “Please, please, put it in. I need to feel you.” Was all it took from you before he put a hand next to your head and he was pushing himself into you.
He pushed in slowly, part of it wanting you to get you to the stretch, but the other part of it was for him to not cum quickly. “You’re so fucking tight y/n, god.” He groans out and you moan out when he finally bottoms out inside of you.
Jack doesn’t waste any time pounding into you as you quickly grab onto his shoulders for support. “Oh!” You cry out and he grunts in reply, “so fucking wet too. This turn you on? Having a real man take care of you like this.” He says as he grabs you by your chin so you can look at him and you sob out a yes for him.
“Feels so good, Jack. So full of you, fucking me so good” you whine out and he lets out what would seem to be a quiet whimper “keep talking to me like that and I’m definitely not gonna last long, baby.” He licks his thumb and brings it down to your clit to rub it in fast, tight circles that makes your jaw drop and your toes curl.
“Oh fuck! Jack!” You say as your back arches off the bed and he puts his other free hand on your back for support. “Come on baby, let go for me. Cum on this cock.” He whines into your neck and with a few more thrust you were creaming all over him. He keeps going and you quickly get overstimulated while he holds your hips down into the bed
“Just a little more, pretty. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard into you. Fuck.” He pants out and like he said, after a few more deep thrusts, he cums inside of you.
He gently lays on top of you as you both catch your breaths and come down from your orgasms. He kisses your temple and whispers about how he’s going to run you a bath and bring you some water.
“What am I going to wear? And as much as I would love to stay here I have to go home.” You whisper and he tells you not to worry about it, that you could take one of his shirts and he’ll take you home his self. You don’t object when he carries you to the bathroom and sets the water temperature to warm.
Begrudgingly getting out of jacks car and giving him your number, you grab your keys and walk into your very empty apartment. Usually you’d be upset, however this time you’ve never been more grateful. You wash your face and put on a movie to lay on the couch and rest.
You’re rudely awoken when your boyfriend walks through the door at 11:30 am and you don’t even bother to ask him where he’s been when you know exactly where he was.
“Hey babe.” He says and you hum a small “hey” back to him. He doesn’t even know you didn’t come home last night and you plan to keep it that way.
“What’s up with you? All relaxed.” He says and you shrug “I was taking a nap…” you say and he side eyes you. You don’t usually sleep unless he comes home but he lets it go as you were probably tired.
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It’s been a few weeks of you and Jack sneaking around while your boyfriend doesn’t have a clue. And a part of you feels bad about it but then again he’s cheated multiple times and you’re simply not in love with him anymore.
Tomorrow, your boyfriend has a game against the New Jerseys devils which excites you because then you get to see Jack again.
“Why are you so happy to go? Never seen you this excited to see me kick some ass in a game before.” Your boyfriend chuckles as you mentally groan and put on a fake smile “just happy that I get to see my boyfriend play.” You lie straight out of your teeth, well not really. You are watching your boyfriend play, just not him. he smiles at your statement. “You know, recently you’ve been acting different. And honestly, I love it so much. You’re so much more calmer and it just makes me happy that knowing you regained that trust in me.” He said and you didn’t even respond. Just smiled like you didn’t know what was happening
“Only thing that’s pissing me off is that Jack kid” he says and you freeze. “…What do you mean?” “I mean like, he’s just some pretty boy who thinks he’s the shit. Thinks he can do whatever he wants and tonight I’m gonna beat his ass in this game tonight to show him who’s boss.” You don’t say anything once again and you’re left with your thoughts while your boyfriend flips through the tv to find a channel to watch.
By the time you left the house, your boyfriend was already on the ice getting ready to start his match. You’re about to sit down next to your friend when a text comes through your phone.
Jack 🤍
Come meet me after the game.
You shoot back a 👍 before putting your phone down and talking with the girl beside you.
It was obvious who was going to win. A devastating game for your boyfriend with a 4-0 to The new jersey devils but a celebratory one for your affair partner. Your boyfriend doesn’t even look at you, just gets in his car after taking off his gear and goes home. You don’t even care anymore, and after you see all the boys leaving the opposite teams locker room, you text Jack asking if it was okay for you to come to his apartment and he immediately sends a yes.
You walk into the place and immediately you’re hugged by him, which sends butterflies to your stomach and a bright genuine smile to your face.
“Missed you, gorgeous. Saw how I kicked ass out there?” He says as he pulls away to look at your face and you smile even harder “I did! You played so good, super proud of you” and he gives you a deep kiss as you both giggle.
“You have to stop! What if you leave a mark?” You whisper laugh and he nips at your ear “don’t care anymore. Let them know how much I love you.” He says and you suddenly feel flustered “Jack….” “Y/n. You don’t have to be with him anymore. I can take care of you so much better than he can and you know that.” He says with so much seriousness in his voice that you’re left speechless
“Jack-“ “I genuinely love you. seriously. I want to be with you.” He says and you have no words so you just kiss him again. The kissing turns into him pinning you against the wall and the grinding and groping is very evident.
“Take all this off baby. I need you right now” he says as you’re quick to push him down onto his couch. “Not this time. It’s your win. Let me take care of you” you say and he whispers a fuck while his eyes run along your body.
You take off your top and after a few minutes of kissing and grinding, you drop to your knees and he lets out a gasp of pleasure at you palming him.
You unzip his pants and he’s breathing heavily, anticipating what you’d do next. You spit onto his dick and roll your hand around it for a few strokes before giving gentle kisses to his tip.
“Baby don’t tease, thought you were taking care of me?” He whines out as you giggle “I am. Be patient for me.” You say and his next words fall flat on his tongue as you start tonguing his head.
Finally granting his wish, you dip your head down and take him fully down your throat. Your cheeks pulling in to suck him tighter while your head dipped up and down. A groan of surprise leaves his mouth as his eyes immediately become hooded.
“Fuck, angel. Such a nice mouth you have on you” he groaned out. But his muttering and whining was quickly cut off with the way you sloppily put your tongue on his balls
“Holy shit. Oh my fucking god baby. You’re incredible” he moans out as you continue to jerk him off while popping of on his balls out of your mouth and moving on to the one beside it.
You took him back into your mouth and your hands worked around what you couldn’t reach, the head of his dick kissing the back of your throat in a pleasureful burn and you can feel tears swelling in your eyes when he gently grabs your head and begins to start fucking his full length down your throat.
His moans and whines become more desperate every second and it’s obvious he’s close to cumming. Although you’re enjoying your time here, your phone suddenly starts ringing. It’s your boyfriend. Jack groans out partly in annoyance and in pleasure and then he gets an idea. “Wanna show your boyfriend how pretty you look when I cum down your throat.” He almost cries out and you moan around him “please baby, can I pick up the phone at let him he- oh fuck, let him hear how well you take me?” He says as he struggles to keep his composure with the way you’re deepthroating him, cutting himself off with his own moans
You hum in approval and Jack doesn’t waste any time picking up that phone and putting your boyfriend on speaker.
“Hey. Where are you-“ and all that’s heard is a loud gag through the room and the sloppy noises of your mouth on jack’s cock.
“Fuck baby. Keep going please. I’m so fucking close, oh my god.” Jack says as he throws his head back, face flushed and neck red as you hold his hips down and begin bobbing your head up and down again.
“Y/n?! What the fuck is happening?! Who is that?!!” Your boyfriend frantically says as Jack takes the phone. “She’s a pro at sucking dick. Honestly I have no clue how you could even let her out of your sight” Jack grunts out and hangs up the phone, not even wanting to bother with him right now.
A few more bobs of your head and Jack is cumming down your throat. Chest heaving as he does so. “Oh fuck, you’re so perfect, holy shit.” He whines out and you’re determined to clean him up completely, continuing to suck him off until he was completely finished
“Fuck- you trying to kill me over here? God” he says with a small laugh as you finally pop off his dick, catching your breath.
As you and Jack bask in the afterglow, your boyfriend is blowing up your phone and before you can reach for it, Jack stops you.
“You don’t need to worry about him anymore. You’re mine now.”
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Who Builds Theseus' Ship?
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This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.
In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:
Halsin.
For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.
He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:
The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.
As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.
Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)
I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.
It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.
And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.
Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.
(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)
Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".
Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."
The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:
That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.
Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.
And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
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