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pairing: racetrack higgins x reader
summary: race has been flaking on dates more and more. you think he’s cheating until he shows up bloody, bruises and in a hero costume, one evening.
warnings: blood, cursing, description of stitching
a/n: ending is a little meh and i couldn’t think of a title. i’ll try to revise it later.
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Race is rushing to your table from the restaurant, tugging on his jacket in a hurry. Your head titled in slight confusion.
“Race…?”
Race snapped his head towards you. The apology written all over his face masking the urgency. “My uh…mom called.” Race explained hurriedly. “She—fell down the stairs and I gotta go to—”
He’s been doing this often, but you shouldn’t throw out accusations. Just be a supportive girlfriend. “Hey, hey—I get it. Make sure she’s okay.” You spoke sympathetically. Your hand on his arm rubbing it comfortingly.
Race gave you a weary smile. He hates leaving you early on dates especially when you look so pretty in your outfit. He felt terribly guilty. You got dolled up for him and he had to go…
“I love you.” Race kissed you quickly and ran out of the restaurant.
Does he though?
You’re sitting at your desk, mindlessly moving the swivel chair side to side. Thoughts running through your head. The events of the day replaying itself out. You were supposed to be studying for your test, but…you can’t help but think about the date.
It’s not the first time Race ended a date early because something important came up. The first time it happened was because Albert was throwing up a lot. Then it was Jack needed him ASAP for a project and so on.
You’ve seen this happen to one of your friends; literally watched the events unfold before you. Your friend’s girlfriend kept canceling dates or leaving earlier because of something that came up. Turns out the girl was hooking up with some other guy behind your friend’s back.
Race wouldn’t do that, right? The sweet, charming guy that brings you little trinkets that remind him of you? No way in hell would Race cheat.
You scoffed just thinking about Race hooking up with another person. So, you rationalized these thoughts, it was late and you were thinking about this too much, overthinking it. Your mind is just making up stuff to keep you awake to study for your exam next week. That’s right.
Suddenly, a quiet creaking from your window grabbed your attention. Your curtains had been closed since you’ve got home from the spoiled date. You grab the nearest blunt object to throw. The dark figure on the other side of the window, slid it open.
A soft groan escaped the figure. It never occurred to you it could be your roommate. Your sleep-deprived, adrenaline filled brain screamed at you, “Robber, thief, murderer, stranger danger—!”
So, you threw your blunt object as soon as you caught sight of a head. A small yelp escaped your lips. You prayed to whoever you wouldn’t die tonight. You haven’t even finished re-watching Superstore yet.
The figure tumbled into your apartment, catching the object without even looking. “Get out, get out, get out!” You shouted and threw one of your textbooks at the person like they were a bug on the walls.
The figure caught it again and quickly put their free hand up. “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt ya’!” The figure stated quickly as they saw you holding a second book. “Please, stop throwing things.” You shrunk behind the book you held like a scared child.
“Who—?” You asked nervously. Intricate details of webs on the costume. Red and blue colors. A spider sewn onto the chest. It is a dead give-away. One of their hands was pressed against his abdomen. Blood oozing out, soiling their costume. Holy fuck. Why was Spiderman in your room? How did he even get here? Did he just stumble upon your apartment? Oh god, and he is hurt.
“What—?” Before you can even ask a question, Spiderman tugged off his mask. Soft blonde curls damp with sweat. Blue eyes filled with exhaustion and affliction. A sheepish smile on his lips.
“Suprise.” Race said dryly.
He thought it’d be better for you to know now instead of later and…he doesn’t think he can catch another book.
“Oh my god—Race!” You launch out of your desk chair to the blonde. Panic running through your veins, your hands cupping his face like he’s fragile. Then it clicks, you realize it isn’t anyone’s blood and wounds, it is Race’s. Race is hurt—how can he just…how?
Your boyfriend. The man who can’t stand spiders, especially daddy long legs, is Spiderman. Spiderman. The fucking vigilante swinging around New York. Is this why he ends dates early? Because he is Spiderman?
You don’t want to believe it, but Race is right here in front of you. Your blue-eyed lover subconsciously leaned into your warm touch. “M’okay.” Race mumbled and kissed the palm of your hand. The comfort of your touch distracting him from the pain. “Just…need your help patching up.”
You went into overdrive. The information you learned was overwhelming. How long has he been doing this? How bad are his injuries? Will he be okay? There are so many risks to this. Spiderman? How can he do what he does?
Your hands were too afraid to touch his upper body as you looked over him. “God…oh—how did..? You’re bleeding a lot…and you look so tired and….how bad is—? I don’t know what to do—! Fuck…you’re bleeding a lot. That wound is huge and—”
“Hey, sweetheart.” Race grabbed your attention from your stupor with the nickname. “Calm down. I’ll walk you through everything. Can you help me to the bathroom?”
Your eyes soften, but his words don’t reassure you. “Mhm.” You pressed your lips together, the worry evident in your eyes as you helped Race to the bathroom. He leaned against the counter.
The first aid kit is under the sink. Race is peeling off the top half of his suit. A wince escaped him as the spandex stuck to his large gash. He ripped it away like a bandaid causing you to cringe. There is dried blood, sweat and dust all over his toned body—which you will not admit you stared at a little too long.
“I would’ve done this myself, but—it hurt to swing any more. I mean, it felt like my body was being torn apart.” He softly said, trying to decrease the situation on why he was here in this getup. A soft blush on his face. It is clear he still felt bad about earlier that evening.
Only a man like Race would blush when he has a gaping wound in his side. “I don’t need your excuses—I just need to help patch you up.” Your eyes hardening after you take a shaky exhale.
Questions and thoughts racing (hah.) your mind. Was this convenient or was this pity for earlier? This is kind of ridiculous—you were dating Spiderman. Race is Spiderman. He could’ve told you—said something so you wouldn’t think the worst of the worst. So you could help him from hurting himself further.
“Okay.” Race nodded slowly. He noticed your snappy comments. He masked the worry and guilt. “Douse a rag in rubbing alcohol and—gently clean my wound, please.”
Race walked you through the steps of how to clean a wound. Your boyfriend had bit into a rolled up hand towel to muffle his agony. Tears brimming his eyes at the stinging. Luckily, the bleeding stopped. It looked slightly less gross than it did before, and it was done quickly.
Your annoyance, anger dissipates for a moment. You look at your boyfriend who removed the hand towel from his mouth. “I—I don’t know how to stitch.”
Race nodded, his head glistening with sweat from the enduring the pain. “You know how to sew though. Just—sew.” He mumbled.
“Race…that—that’s not the same, I can’t just—why don’t we go to an actual hospital? They know better than you or I.” You tried to rationalize.
“Can’t.” Race shook his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “I can’t—my blood work and genetics are fucked—please, sweetheart.”
Race begged softly. It seem the blood loss got to him. “I need you to do it. Please. I trust you. Please.”
You grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Okay…” You say almost inaudibly. Race brings your hand to his lips, a silent thank you. Just like before, Race has a rag in his mouth. Hand gripping your shoulder. His eyes closed shut as your dominant hand delicately holding a needle. The other was on his side. Race shivered at your touch. “Don’t move to much, okay?”
Race hummed in agreement. You pressed the needle to one end of the wound and punctuate the flesh. Race’s hand gripped your shoulder tightly, muffled sounds of pain escape him. You try to get this done quickly. In and out, through and through.
And pull.
You watch the wound close up together seamlessly. It sealed like a piece of cloth and look up at your tired boyfriend. His head immediately falls on your shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered and kissed your neck once or twice.
Your eyes soften. You take Race’s face in your hands and bring his head in front of you. Lip quivering now that you finished stitching up your boyfriend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I—”
“Race, you’re Spiderman—and I didn’t know! You made me think—think that…” Your voice is shaky, overwhelmed with a number of emotions. Race is Spiderman—he could die at any point.“you were cheating—what if you didn’t come back from fighting a villain? I don’t want to go to a funeral. I can’t—not when it’s the love of my life.”
“Oh, Y/N…” Race hugged you tightly despite the pain blooming in his side. “I’m not going anywhere, or dying—god, I wouldn’t even think of cheating on you, y’know that?”
A few moments of silence.
“Help me.” He mumbled and put his arm over your shoulder. The two of you exit the bathroom. Race was doing a little bit better than before, but you still had to support his weight. You both sit on the bed, Race taking your hands.
“I wanted to tell you, more than anything in the world, but—” He paused. “But…I couldn’t let you get hurt or worse for knowing about me.”
His voice cracked slightly. “If—if you got killed because of me…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I just—and what if you thought I was a freak. I—I can climb of walls for fucks sake and have a sixth sense—” All of the thoughts that kept him up at night spilling out.
“Race—you’re a superhero, shut up.” You stated bluntly. Sometimes Race just needed to hear things as is. You grabbed some joggers he left here and gave it to him. You were no longer anger or afraid, just tired. So tired.
A soft sight escaped you. “You’re tired, I’m tried—this conversation should be for tomorrow.”
Race’s lips parted slightly to retaliate, but a wave of exhaustion hits him. He changed into the grey joggers and got into your bed. You gravitate towards his body heat and bury your head into the crook of his neck. “My boyfriend is a goddamn superhero.” It sounded more in awe. You leaned up to kiss his lips. Race kissed back with a little more passion than intended. Race and you fall asleep in each others arms, knowing—
—at least for tonight, that everything will be okay.
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billy the kid x wife!reader |It's christmas day and you're panicking to make the perfect gingerbread men...while Billy goofs and teases around you|
"wheres the fucking molasses?"
Billy let out a hearty laugh at your state, hair tied high and apron a mess, wooden spoon covered in flour as well as your face
you open drawers aggressively with your brows furrowed, lip tucked in with your teeth as you try and look for the-
"molasses!!"
your smile returns as you hold the jar high, quickly turning back to your working station as you eyeball the mixture in your bowl
"love, I think you're workin' too hard"
Billy says with a smile, as you beat the assortment of spices you glare up at him
"once these damn gingerbread men are done, I'll relax." you say through gritted teeth, you hear a chair squeak back and suddenly arms are around you
"or, you can relax now" he adds, kissing up your neck as you start to lean back into him
"no! I need to get this done" you whisper, hunching back over as you start to kneed the dough with your hands
you sprinkle flour on the wooden counter and gave Billy a slap of dough before starting to roll your half on the counter
"now I'm a part of this?" he whines and you grin up at him
"yes, dear. now roll that out and start gettin' the shape" you giggle, getting a butter knife as you cut the shape of your ginger men
"oh, honey. be prepared for the worst lookin' gingerbread men you've seen." he shakes his head with a crooked smile before spinning the knife and cutting a resemblance of the shape
"billy! you used like- half of the dough just for that one!" you couldn't contain your laugh as he held up his enormous cookie
"nah, yours are too little dear" he says proudly as he places it on the pan
soon, they're out of the oven and resting on the stove, you've slapped billy's hand away at least four times as he tries to sneak a taste
you sprinkle sugar over them and pick one of your creations up before biting down on it
"mmm...yay! They aren't horrific, Billy!" you grin and he snorts a laugh before picking up his humongous...'cookie'
"I'll be the judge of that, love" he winks at you before biting it, his blue eyes imminently widen as he quickly talked with his mouth full
"this is delicious!"
you giggle and he scarfs down the cookie, picking you up with your messy apron and spinning you around before kissing all over your face
"don't let me bother you when you're cookin' again! this is a masterpiece!" he exclaimed
"nah, I think you're barkin' helped me focus" you smiled and he kissed your cheek again
"merry christmas, doll"
"merry christmas, cowboy"
an: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! I just made gingerbread for the first time and was thinking about him <3333 anyways, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday!! i love you all so much! mwah! ❤️🎄🎅
Hey guys…I’ve been thinking of re-writing FFY for a bit. The way I’ve went with the fake dating troupe is kind of weird and I think there’s not enough strong plot points in my story. Overall, it’s not my best work. But if I do a complete factory reset, chapters would take longer to upload + I would changes a lot of things.
ANY FEEDBACK would help me, specifically about FFY. I would love to become a better writer and do this series justice.
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FEIGNING FOR YA’ - luke castellan x fem!reader
KISS THE GIRL - luke castellan x reader
CAN’T CATCH A BREAK - luke castellan x daughter of demeter!reader
THE TALK - luke castellan x daughter of dionysus!reader
WHAT IS LOVE? - luke castellan x fem!reader
GHOST IN THE WIND - luke castellan x fem!reader
FIRST LOVE - past!luke castellan x reader
ROMEO AND FAIR JULIET - biker!luke castellan x reader
FESS UP! - luke castellan x reader
COLUMBA - luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader
TOO LATE - luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
PARAMOUR - college!luke castellan x fem!reader
A SAD SONG - luke castellan x daughter of apollo!reader
LOVER AND A WARRIOR - clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader
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Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir
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pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: in this lousy town, panic was the only thing remotely interesting. well you know what they say, you only live once. yet…dodge seemed to have nine.
warnings: mentions of almost dying, a little ooc dodge
a/n: rewatching panic so…writing for one of my favorite cowboys. realized it might be a little similar to one of my other fics, but oh well
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You only live once. That was the motto you tried to live by. Albeit, the motto was stupid and could get your ass landed in jail sometimes.
The motto was how you were able to get the Dodge Mason to go out with you. It was how you were able to jump the cliff during the first challenge during Panic. It was also how you were disqualified during the third challenge.
Breaking and entering was not your forte, nor was avoiding the batshit, crazy Spurlock’s traps. You fractured your arm running from the bastard with a personal item of his. Fearing for your life, you tripped, dropped your item and ran—praying you would get out with no bullet holes in your body.
Your will to live trumped over your desire to have any real fun in this town.
You thought it was pathetic for not being able to keep your item in your hand long enough to advance. Your boyfriend was just thankful you were alive.
Yet, when he landed himself in the hospital after the fourth challenge—the mindsets switched.
“Promise me, you’ll be careful?” You spoke the night of the fourth challenge. Dodge and you were on his couch watching whatever movie was on.
“Yeah, ‘course.” Dodge agreed, looking at you. His arms wrapped around your body tightly. Dodge leaned down and kissed the top of your head.
His reassurance provided you a little more comfort than before, yet with Panic—expect the unexpected.
No one expected the local haunted house to burst up in flames, nor for a few Panic players to end up in the hospital cause of it.
“You are a goddamn liar, Dodge Mason!” You accused your boyfriend the minute you stepped into his hospital room.
Dodge jumped slightly at the sound of your tone, blankly staring at you. You attempted to hit him to get your point across that this was serious because he was just looking at you. Staring like everything was fine. He landed himself in the hospital because of a stupid fucking cash prize.
“Don’t do that. Don’t wanna hurt yourself more.” Dodge warned with stern, yet soft voice. He caught your casted hand before you could do any real damage to him or yourself.
“You gave me a goddamn heart attack.” Your hands tensed up and sat down on his hospital bed. “The fire—I didn’t know if you or Heather or Nat were okay,”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Dodge let go of your cast. He quickly looked around for a cop or any staff member. “I was reaching for a clue in an outlet and next thing I know, lights out. I didn’t even know there was a fire.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Electrocuted?”
“Electrocuted.” Dodge laughed slightly like he couldn’t believe himself. “I think my heart stopped.”
“Don’t joke like that.” You gave him a pointed look.
“I’m being serious!” Dodge gave you his signature boyish smile. “You know how you compare me to a black cat? I just used one of my nine lives.”
“You’re stupid.” You failed to hide the grin creeping up on your face.
Even when you were supposed to be angry at him, he never failed to make you smile. “I mean it!” Dodge exclaimed. “I’m at eight lives.”
The two of you went silent, just beaming, grinning at one another. As the silence grew, the smiles faded. You were the one to speak up first. “What do you think will happen now with…?” Panic.
“I don’t know. It’s just a minor setback and we’ll finish this. It won’t get canceled.” Dodge admitted and laid back in the hospital bed.
“Dodge…you landed yourself in the hospital because of this stupid game. You could’ve suffered something worse than blacking out—what if something happened internally?” You stressed. “And—and you still want to risk your life for what—?”
Dodge interrupted. “For Dayna…” A small pause.“…and for you.” Dodge added quietly.
“You don’t gotta win for me.” You whispered to him. “If it’ll get you killed, don’t win for me.”
Dodge opened his arms and reluctantly you laid next to him. His arm snaked around your waist, soothingly caressing it. “What if it’s like third times a charm? You get hurt during Panic again and you land yourself six feet under—?”
“Have a little faith in me.” Dodge hummed and looked down at your face. “I promised you I’ll be careful and smart about things. I won’t break those promises.”
You gave him another pointed look, knowing you won’t be able to convince him to stop. “You just win for Dayna.”
“Justice for Dayna.” With the arm wrapped around your waist, he held up one finger as he spoke about his motivations to win. “Getting out of this shitty town for you.” Another finger went up before he kissed your head.
“I think I’ll be fine in this lousy town if you’re here.” You shifted your head to look up at Dodge.
“And those dreams of wanting to see Italy?France? Spain?” Dodge asked softly.
“Pipe dreams.” You smiled dismissively. “Just something to keep me going.”
“You know the pot this year is huge. Once I win, I’ll take you anywhere you want. Out of state, out of country, out of world. Anywhere.” Dodge promised.
“That is a large if, Dodge. Gonna pay for that with a few of your lives left?” You teased him.
“Darling, I would do anything to make your dreams come true. Even if it means paying with my lives.” Dodge kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, eyelids, chin, jaw. You giggled as he left butterfly kisses on your face.
“Dodge—Dodge, stop it!” You giggled, but he silenced your protests with a kiss to your lips. You could feel him smiling.
“Forgive me for losing one of my lives?” Dodge asked as he kept kissing and kissing—knowing the answer. Your angry and worry simmered long before he could even ask for forgiveness.
“You get hurt again and I’m going to kill you.” You threatened, trying to keep your composure.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Dodge mumbled as his lips met yours. He made the same threat when you broke your wrist.
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lorenzo berkshire x reader? where it is just fluffy and both of them are hopeless romantics and the slytherin gang is getting annoyed with how much they are pining?
BTW LOVE YOUR WORKS!! SERIOUSLY YOU WORK SO INCREDILY HARD YOU DESERVE A LOT MORE THAN HEARTS ❤️❤️
masterlist
To be a Slytherin is to simultaneously want for everything and give up nothing. You wish for the top grades of your classes, but skive off studying to hang out with your friends. You desire glory, but ignore the burden of playing by everyone else’s rules. And, most pressingly of all, you want Lorenzo Berkshire to love you, but never want to say a word to him about it.
It is the wanting, you think, that will finally do you in. You want Lorenzo more than you’ve wanted anything before. Every conquest before this, every clutch at a legacy, all fades to grey in the face of a boy like that. And what a face indeed– you’ve seen it smile at you, wink across a crowded room, whisper your name under a caught breath, and you never want to stop looking at it, at him. You have known Enzo since you were small. If all goes well, you’ll be with him until you’re old and grey, too.
The problem with Lorenzo is that he’s your friend. It would be easier if you had never known him at all, you think. If he was a stranger, you might never have fallen for him in the first place. You could have seen him walking down the street, admired him momentarily, and then been able to move on with your life. Once you met him, though, you couldn’t help but love him. You were trapped from the day he introduced himself.
If he was a stranger, even if you did love him at first sight, you wouldn’t have been afraid to lose him. You could have offered up a pickup line like Pansy or Astoria on any boy they thought halfway decent, knowing that the price of rejection would only be a lost opportunity with someone they didn’t care about. Your friends can laugh in the face of boys they would normally ignore, but you can’t pretend you don’t think about Lorenzo. That would be even more impossible than being able to give him up.
This, in the end, is what stops you from confessing your feelings. If Enzo liked you back, he would just smile at you like he does when you get a perfect score on a project you did together for school, or when you choose to walk next to him instead of anyone else in your emerald friend group. He would love you, and you would know it, and for once in your life, the thought of Enzo hooked on a girl wouldn’t cut you to the core because that lucky girl would be you.
If, however, Enzo didn’t feel the same, that would change everything, and make what had once been glorious a terrible thing indeed. Everyone says that you can ‘just be friends’ with someone even if a schoolgirl crush is one-sided, but they’re lying through their teeth. Lorenzo would slowly but surely drift away from you, and instead of running to him on bad days and long nights, your only comfort would be the ghost of the time when he used to trust you unconditionally.
Telling Enzo you loved him could destroy you. Lorenzo is your best friend, your favorite. He knows you better than anyone here, holds more of your secrets locked away in his chest than even the girls in your dorm. All of your secrets, that is, except one, the worst of them all: even when Enzo offered you the best friendship in your life, you only ever wanted more. Call it a Slytherin’s fatal flaw, call it greed or ego or anything you please, but in the end, no amount of self reflection will save you from the fact that you have finally craved more than you could ever have.
Enzo may not know, but your friends apparently caught on a long time ago. They say it’s insane how he hasn’t picked up on it yet, then pause and look at you with these know-it-all stares. You’re aware that you’re rather hopeless, as Blaise put it one day after getting sick of you daydreaming about the boy you’ll never have instead of working on the Transfiguration essay the two of you were supposed to be completing together, but if you could cut off your feelings, you’d do it in a flash.
The only problem, of course, is that it’s impossible to get your heart unstuck from Enzo. He’s ridiculously charming, always offering you his coat or scarf whenever there’s even the slightest hint of snow, or just so happening to take you by the hand whenever he needs to show you something. He’s flirtatious, but never insufferable. Confident, but never cocky. He walks the fine line of being larger than life and coming off as far too much, and he does so perfectly. You’ve never met a boy like Lorenzo Berkshire before, and at this point, you doubt you ever will.
This does, unfortunately, tend to mess with your head more than a little. It’s one thing to dream of floppy dark hair pushed back to reveal a brilliant smile, or deep brown eyes that always search the crowd for you, but it’s another thing entirely to have to deal with all of his charm turned towards someone else. You’re not completely unrealistic, you know all too well that Lorenzo is perfectly capable of falling in love with any other girl at this school, you just can’t seem to convince yourself that such a thing would be okay.
For instance, just this morning at breakfast, you walked into the Great Hall with your friends to find Enzo already there, avidly talking up a girl from one of your classes. His eyes were alight with enthusiasm, and when she made him laugh with what was no doubt a terrible joke, your entire body felt consumed with desperate jealousy.
You must have lost track of what you were saying, because Pansy had followed your line of sight to see Enzo still locked in conversation with the girl. She had sighed dramatically, and turned to you with an exasperated expression that is slowly becoming quite familiar the more you vex her with your inability to get over your feelings. “Don’t tell me you’re lovesick again. Are you physically capable of going more than five minutes without thinking about Enzo?”
You feel your face heat up and swat her on the shoulder. “Feel free to say that any louder, maybe he’ll hear you.”
“Good,” Pansy mutters, “Maybe then the two of you could finally talk to each other about this.”
Theo swings by, grinning. “Are we making fun of Y/N for her crush on Enzo again? Good, let’s do it some more.”
You turn to him, eyes wide with surprise. “Theo, you insufferable git–”
Theo leans away when you try to swat him, too. “Don’t shoot the messenger! I’m just trying to help you two, I swear it.”
“You’re doing a right awful job of it,” you tell him, pushing closer to him so you can exact your vengeance.
“Hey, hey,” Theo complains, “Don’t hit me too hard now, your loverboy is looking.”
You whip back around to see that Theo is right, Enzo has gotten up from where he was sitting to walk over to your group. This time, though, he looks distinctly annoyed, and whatever good mood he was in while he was talking to the other girl has evaporated from his face. His eyes keep cutting between you and Theo in quick, curt movements, and his hands are tight at his sides.
You move away from Theo unconsciously, like you’ve been pulled into Enzo’s orbit. Lorenzo manages a weak smile to you, then allows Draco and Blaise to coax him into a discussion of the upcoming Slytherin Quidditch game. You’re left to stumble back to the Slytherin table with your friends, constantly glancing over your shoulder in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he might look back at you even one more time.
Pansy and Theo take seats on either side of you, exchanging hopeless glances over your head. “At this rate, I don’t think they’re ever going to make it,” Theo says gloomily.
Pansy snorts. “Have some faith, Theo. A miracle might happen.”
A miracle would be lovely indeed. Forget turning water into wine or getting all of your end-of-term exams cancelled, you think your brightest hope for a miracle would be Enzo actually feeling even half as strongly about you as you do about him.
You end up floating through that day much as you do any other, zoning out in lecture to think about the boy seated just next to you. Although your little group of Slytherins tends to sprawl across the back rows of any classroom, Enzo always seems to pick the desk right next to you, no matter who he walked in with or what conversation he’s in the middle of entertaining. It’s like all thoughts of sports or other friends go right out of his head the second he gets the chance to sit by your side.
By the time the last class of the day rolls around, you feel just about ready to give in. Whoever scheduled History of Magic in the late afternoon was absolutely insane. In the dark room, lights dim and windows half shuttered, the overwhelming urge to sleep presses in on you, unavoidable and all too compelling. You try to pay attention, really you do, but the material is so dry and Binns is so boring that closing your eyes even just for a few seconds is far too tempting.
The only thing keeping you from passing out is the uncomfortable desk in front of you. You’d think that decades of students falling asleep in this class would have worn down the surface at least a little bit, but the hard edges of the desk keep poking into you, keeping you from relaxing completely.
Enzo laughs quietly after you rearrange yourself for what feels like the hundredth time that class period. “Trouble falling asleep? I thought Binns would have knocked you out half an hour ago.”
“I’m almost asleep, I just can’t get comfortable,” you complain. “This desk is harder than a rock.”
He grins, then shuffles closer to you. Both of you share one long table meant for two students, so Enzo isn’t barred off from you by individual desks. Sitting together on one bench as you are, Enzo can reach out and pull you against his side. “You can fall asleep on me,” he says, “I’d like to think I’m much more comfortable than a desk.”
You giggle faintly. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he tells you. “One of us should be able to get some rest, at least. I’ll wake you when it’s over, don’t worry.”
“Never,” you assure him, but already sleep is coming to claim you. Leaning against him, your head tucked against his shoulder, the last barriers to your slumber have been removed. You can just sense his arm curling around your waist, keeping you close, and then you’re asleep at last.
It feels as if no time at all has passed before Enzo is gently shaking you awake at the end of class. “Sleep well?” He asks, grinning.
You sit up slowly, absentmindedly rubbing one hand against the side of your tired face. “Very.”
Enzo smiles, then adjusts your tie, which has become slightly lopsided during your slumber. “You still look tired. It’s cute,” he tells you, then freezes slightly, as if he hadn’t meant to give that little detail away.
You arch a brow. “You think I’m cute, Enzo?”
“Very,” he admits. “Cuter still when you’re cuddled up beside me. You’ll have to do it again soon, I’m afraid.”
You laugh. “I think I can arrange that. Only if you call me cute again, though.”
Enzo’s smile broadens. “Sweetheart, I’ll tell you’re pretty and gorgeous and anything else you want to hear. It’s all true, anyway. Oh, and to answer your question, I feel the same way.”
You frown as you reach down to grab your bag, ready to leave this class at last for something a bit more exhilarating. “Huh? What question did I ask?”
Enzo winks as he helps you pick up your books. “You might want to be a little more careful what you whisper when you sleep. And if I wasn’t totally clear, I like you too.”
You stand stock-still. Of all the things to admit when you’re asleep on Enzo’s shoulder– but from the way he’s still smiling at you, you realize at last that he doesn’t mind it, not at all. In fact, judging by his little confession just moments ago, Enzo actually likes you back. It’s not something you had allowed yourself to fully contemplate before, but maybe you should reconsider. After all, the two of you have kept your feelings secret for long enough. You certainly have a lot of missed opportunities to catch up on now.
harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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pairing: college!luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: three times luke was there for you instead of your current boyfriend and the last time you let your boyfriend treat you like shit
warnings: cursing, jealous, bad bf behavior, unsolicited actions, boxing, bad bf gets shit rocked, cheating, alluding of reader cheating (they aren’t), kissing, fluff
a/n: wanted to take a break from requests and ffy to write this, still debating on rewriting feigning for ya’
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I. TIME MANAGEMENT & SUPPORT
You knew dating the president of a fraternity would render him busy, most of the time. More often than not you’d get texts of excuses your boyfriend, Nate McCormick, explaining why he couldn’t make it to events and shows you planned.
It was a given and you didn’t want to blame Nate for his lack of presence. Being a fraternity president was time consuming with fundraisers and parties and…other things. You weren’t too involved in Greek life.
Even the off chance Nate did show up, he never showed out. Sure, he’s a little tired from planning events and he tells you he’s proud, but he never stays for long, not really caring.
It was like your things were a bother to him, but when you didn’t show up to one frat event—he’d get all pissy.
Luke was on speed dial for this exact reason.
For example, the students in the business course had a mock competition with each other to prepare for future competitions. Your group earned third place amongst twenty-five other groups.
The professors held an award ceremony with trophies and certificates. Nate met you after the ceremony and gave you a side hug.
“Hey, baby—you did good! It’s good.” He didn’t get the event to well. A call pulled him away, eventually causing him to leave the event entirely. He seemed almost happy.
You watched his shoulders sag in relief as he walked away with some quick excuse. You thought him whisper into his phone “perfect timing, dude.”
And now, you stood alone; staring at your boyfriend’s text.
Loml<3
Had to go, some fuckwads fucked everything up.
3m ago
Busy.
Always goddamn busy when your things came up.
You weren’t alone for long, thankfully, when Luke walked over; away from his conversation with Silena and Clarisse (it was like he was waiting for the perfect moment to talk to you).
You invited Luke to the ceremony and he showed out (at least someone did). He presented you a small bouquet for your achievement despite his protests on your group receiving third instead of first.
“Listen!” Luke held up a red solo cup during the after party. No one listened, too busy dancing and getting drunks from their accomplishments.
“What are you doing?” You hid a laugh behind your hand, trying to get him to back down from his toast.
“No, no—I must!” Luke smirked. Your small group of friends paying attention. “You should’ve won first and you will win first at nationals! I, for one, am very proud!”
His chocolate brown curls bounced back as he finished off whatever was swirling in the red solo cup. Clarisse, Silena, Chris and you raise your cups and copied his movements.
A small blush rose to your neck and cheeks (because of the alcohol, mhm). You smiled at Luke. “We will win first and I’ll dedicate the win to you.” You joked.
“You better!” Luke ruffled your hair.
Ding!
Loml<3
Otw home, goodnight baby
See you tomorrow, champ
Now
You ignored the texts as you celebrated with Luke’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, singing “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO with Clarisse and Silena, and celebrating a mock completion. You didn’t want support later, it was better in the moment.
II. ADVANTAGE
“Listen, baby—this doesn’t concern. It’s—it’s frat stuff.” Nate gave you a small smile and squeezed your thigh under the table. The guy was engrossed in a conversation with his friends. It was like he was on a date with his friends.
You wouldn’t be surprised.
“Just sit there and look pretty, alright?”
That hit an already tight nerve.
You see—when Nate invited you out to dinner, you idiotically thought that it would just be you and him.
Y’know, to make up for the times he’s bailed out of your school events—or left you stranded at dinner dates (which meant you had to pay for both of your dinners). But, hey! You didn’t mind Nate’s friends joining you for dinner.
Nope. Not at all.
And all this shit kept building and building up. Honestly, when was he ever going to really make it up to you.
You picked at the salad he ordered you—when everything blew up. His hand inched higher and higher on your thigh, beneath your denim skirt. The nerve of him.
Nate and his friends were startled when you stood up, slamming your utensils on the table and gave them a curt excuse to use the bathroom.
So, here you were, leaning against the black marble sink, calling Luke to bail you out of here. He was on speed dial. The lavender incense soothed your frustration.
“Hey, what’s up?” He picked up after two rings. His voice slightly raspy, but it was smooth like a vinyl record.
“Are you busy?”
“Kinda—I’m out with Chris and the Stoll brothers right now.”
“Okay then, nevermind—”
“No—no! Do you need something? What is it?”
“It’s fine, I can call Clarisse instead—”
“Y/N. Are you okay?”
You took a deep breath. It felt like too much to ask for him to come pick you up when he was hanging out with friends.
“Are you okay?” You paused, weighing your decisions silently. Go back to Nate with him getting handsy in front of his friends or go back to your dorm and sleep in comfortable clothes. The latter felt like the better option.
“Can you come pick me up? I do not want to be here right now.”
“Yeah—yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
The line disconnects and you send Luke your location. Nate was too preoccupied with his friends to notice you leaving the restaurant, not so discreetly (you ran into a waiter). Yet, you somehow made it to Luke’s car.
“Are you okay?” He asked. His eyebrows knit with concern as his fingers drum against the steering wheel.
“Just drive—drive, drive!”
Luke almost hit another car listening to your urgent commands. The honking horns from the car behind you stopped eventually, after the driver flipped you off and shouted a spew of curse words. Luke and you look at each other. A pause of silence, before you burst out in giggles and laughs.
“Icecream?”
“Icecream.”
Nate<3
Venmo me $10 for the salad
10:29 pm
Absolutely fucking not.
III. JEALOUSY
So, your boyfriend apparently did have eyes. Not for the effort you put into your appearance or your appreciation for him, but in other men.
Not in a romantic way, but in a jealous way.
Yeah, yeah.
He hardly paid attention to you and even if he did—he always wanted something. Sex, money, the list goes on and on. You’re sure, as of late, he could give a rat’s ass where you’ve been.
Yet, when Nate showed up, unannounced, while you were having a movie night with the girls and Luke (he begged to do face masks with everyone) jealousy was the most prominent thing on his face and not those hideous eyebrows.
You remembered predicting his thoughts. “Why is she hanging out with another guy?” “Bastard wants my girl?” “I’m the only guy she needs.”
So, this is how you found yourself in an off-campus gym with Silena because Nate had to prove he was better than your best friend.
Interrupting girls night.
Nate slipped on boxing gloves whilst Luke leaning against the ropes. Your boyfriend has never boxed before, but he could fight. Your cheeks pink with embarrassment. It was stupid—this was stupid. You are not doing anything romantic with Luke.
Nate should’ve tried to give more a shit in the relationship if he didn’t want you hanging out with your best friend all the time.
“Baby, can you do this?” Nate pouted and displayed the velcro strap on his boxer.
You sucked it up and strapped the Velcro strip. Nate looked at you like he was expecting something else. A good luck kiss.
With the shit he’s pulling. No.
“His fragile masculinity is bruised.” Silena commented quietly, hiding a giggle behind her hand.
“It’s stupid.” You mumbled irritated. Silena and you found some vacant chairs to sit in. “He has to drag me here when he knows I have plans. I’m sorry we can’t go to the flea market now—”
“It’s okay.” Silena reassured quickly. “I’ve been waiting for your boyfriend to realize he’s an idiot.”
(Spoiler alert. He will never)
Nate was really insistent on no head gear. It had something to do with messing up his hair. A gym employee was refereeing the match. He blew the small silver whistle for it to start.
Nate spewing phrases similar to “you think you can just take my girl?” or “she wants me, bro.” Shit like that. Silena watch you hide behind your purse in embarrassment, because what the fuck?!
Neither guys wanted to throw the first punch, that was until Luke mentioned where his gloves were positioned.
“Hey man, you really should keep your arms up near your head.” A helpful tip.
Then—then Nate threw the first punch.
“You keep your arms up!” Nate mocked in a baby voice.
It was sloppy, had no form, and swung in anger. You observed as Luke dodged it with ease; isolating his torso in a way that it felt like a dance.
Compared to Luke, Nate kept his hands guarding his chest. He’s shifting weight foot to foot, breathing like a bull who saw red. Your boyfriend threw another punch, aiming for Luke’s face. Luke responded with protecting his face—taking the brute of the attack on his forearms.
Luke’s body moved fluidly like water when he retailed with his own punch. He isn’t swinging recklessly like Nate did. His movements are processed. Outputting a certain ton of his strength.
The tips of your ears heat up, turning pink underneath your hair. You’ll admit, your eyes are following Luke the whole time.
Since when did Luke box?
Luke is steady on his feet, keeping a rhythm with his punches. Nate could barely block them, getting hit a few times. You watch his torso shift to dodge and advance. The black compression shirt Luke wore was doing things—like the fabric was made to twist with his body.
You’re taken out of your stupor as you watch the bright red boxing glove collide with Nate’s cheek. Your boyfriend was thrown off his balance and landed on his ass. You winced knowing it stung despite the padding. The whistle blew, calling quits to the the match. Luke won.
“No harm, no foul. You okay?” Luke asked, silently giving the “I told you so” look about protecting his head. The curly haired boxer took off a glove to offer a hand an help Nate up.
Nate didn’t take it. In a millisecond, you watched your boyfriend throw his whole body weight into the punch.
The punch colliding with his face, hitting Luke’s eye, nose and cheek at the same time.
“What the fuck, Nate!?” You shouted in disbelief, standing up to enter the ring.
The employee blowed his whistle again, pointing Nate towards the doors. “Bitch.” Nate spat and you pushed him. He was out of his mind, but he looked at you like you were the crazy one.
“What the hell, babe!?”
“The fight was over. That was uncalled for!” You told your boyfriend firmly as he was getting pulled out of the ring and kicked out.
“Why are you defending him?” Nate scoffed and held onto the ropes just to argue. “I got hit too! I got hit and you’re defending this dickwad?”
“You hit him when he was trying to help you!” You argued and left the ring to make him see his wrongful actions.
“He mocked me—hurt my face and you only care for him.” Nate accused. “What? Are you sucking his dick?”
The fact he mentioned something so lewd and outlandish had steam blowing out of your ears. “Cool off, Nate. Control that fucking temper.” You demanded. “You know I would never cheat.”
“You’re with him all the time, babe! I wouldn’t be surprised.” He was actively being pushed out by employees. “I’m your boyfriend! I’m your fucking boyfriend!”
“Sure, don’t act like it.” You grumbled.
The bell on the door rung. Nate was kicked out. You swiveled on your heels and found Luke nursing a bloody nose. Silena handed him her some paper towels.
Apologies were on the tip of your tongue waiting to come out. Luke watched your face go from frustration to guilt. “Don’t worry.” Luke reassured with a grin. There was blood in his teeth. His left eye was tearing up due to the contact of the boxing glove.
“Luke, that wasn’t right for Nate to do.” You mumbled and crossed your arms.
“No.” You could hear the ‘but’ in his tone. “But, it was partly my fault. I was riling him up.”
“By telling him to protect his head?”
“Yeah. Men like him hate being told what to do, but I was concerned for his safety. Honest!”
Silena deadpanned and grabbed her purse and yours. “Green is not a good color on your boyfriend.” Silena mentioned and you sighed.
Luke grabbed your hand, squeezing it to get your attention. He still had that charming smile you’ve grown to love. “Besides, he hit like a girl. He just got lucky and popped a blood vessel.”
IV. THE FINAL STRAW
Out of sight, out of mind.
The quote from Euphoria resonated with you well. It was ironic you were dating a Nate too.
Your boyfriend and you were playing hopscotch on the line of a messy breakup. Lately, arguments were the only thing happening when you saw him. You wanted him to apologize for the accusations he made. His ego too big for him to stoop down to that level.
So, the girls and Luke took you out partying to distract you from relationship troubles. Luke insisted and begged that you let him come because he had nothing to do. It was a lie.
He just liked hanging out with Silena, you, Clarisse and Thalia because of the vibes.
You could feel the bass of the music in your chest when you and the others walk up to the house. Pretty much, you’re thrown into dancing, drinking and games.
Nate is the furthest thing from your mind.
It’s an Alpha Ki party, which meant no Nate tonight or at least that’s what you thought.
You were dancing with Clarisse. The body heat in the room making a thin layer of sweat gloss over your skin. Alcohol buzzed in your veins. It made you feel good, but now you were thirsty.
You had a clear enough head to decided water for your next drink instead of your usual alcohol. “I’m going to get water!” You yelled at Clarisse over the loud music and wormed your way through the crowd.
Digging through the cooler, beneath the beer bottles, cans and chunks of ice, you found your treasure. You’ve never been more relieved to feel and drink cold water.
You took a break to drink your water before leaving the kitchen to join Clarisse again when you saw him.
He was in your sight, which meant he was in your mind.
The worse thing about it was he was shoving his tongue down another girl’s throat, grabbing her ass. What was he even doing at another frat party when he was supposed to be monitoring his own?
Angry, heartbreak and devastation consumed your beating heart. After everything…everything—you did for Nate. From being a supportive girlfriend to dressing up more for him to paying for his dinners to reassuring him about his frat events to—everything, everything you did. All the one sided bullshit you did blew up.
Your body moved without a second thought. Hands moving to unscrew the water bottle cap and suddenly, Nate was soaked (you tried to avoid the girl as much as possible). His clothes wet. So weird, wow.
“You bitch!” Nate exclaimed in irritation, shaking his hands of water droplets. He looked at you like you killed his mom.
You shook your head. He didn’t get to be angry—he cheated, not you. “You are a cheating fuckwad, Nate!” Putting it into words he understood.
“You’re paying for my clothes. You ruined them!” Nate stepped closer to you, pushing the girl he was making out with aside.
“Start paying for your own shit! I’m not your mom, I was your girlfriend” You threw the empty water bottle at him and stormed out of the party.
Your heart was being squeezed so tightly you couldn’t breathe. Tears stinging your eyes, no doubt ruining your mascara.
It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be crying over your, now, ex-boyfriend. He treated you like shit.
You couldn’t help it. You loved him. You had to of. You made excuses for the shitty things he did and never broke up with him. It hurt to see him kiss another girl. The icing on the cake.
He used you because that’s what men like him do.
You barely recognize another pair of footsteps behind you, so angry with yourself for crying. Was it normal to cry over someone so shitty?
“Hey. Hey…” The familiar voice soothes you and soon your met with his eyes. Twinkling like the stars. His arms wrap around you, comforting you. Luke was always around when you needed it. Which made him the perfect boyfriend.
“I should’ve known. I should’ve known he would do that!” You reprimanded yourself. Words muffled in Luke’s shoulder.
Luke frowned at that. Love can make someone do crazy things, including blinding one’s faults. “God, he was such a dick!”
“Yeah, almost all the letters are in his last name.” Luke quipped and pulled back from the hug to wipe away your tears. “Just missing the ‘d’, god, sex with him must’ve been horrible if he was missing the ‘d’.”
You laughed through your blurry vision at his corny joke; his attempt to make you feel better. The whole cheating fiasco sobered you up and now, you noticed how close Luke was to you. “Listen, he’s going to regret treating a beautiful girl like shit, okay?” Luke reassured.
Your heart beat a little faster. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Always, sweetheart. Every damn day.” Luke admitted sheepishly with a grin and kissed your forehead.
Your ear turned pink beneath your hair. Was it right? To be so close to your best friend, to think about him in that way when you had a break up minutes ago.
You stare at him, not saying anything. No words were desperately trying to claw its way out of her mouth. Then, your eyes slowly shift to his lips: pink, thin, kissable.
It’s a bad idea, right?”
But, this is the most sober you have been all night. “You…” You knit your eyebrows, finding words to say. “You’ve always been there for me. Like nobody else, saved me countless of times for my ex…”
You want to cry, expressing this after the whole Nate situation. You cupped his cheeks with your hands. “You’re so handsome and—and…I think I’ve been thinking this for a long time.”
“God, how awful of me.”
Luke gave you a sympathetic look and put his hands on your wrists. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to your pulse point that caused even more pink to bloom across your cheeks. “I will…I will do everything McCormick couldn’t do for you.” Luke promised, and tucked a piece of hair back.
“You already have.” You whispered and pressed your lips to his. They were like magnets itching to connect. Luke’s hands slid down to your hips, rubbing tiny circles into the bone. You hands pressed against his chest.
This, this was what a kiss was supposed to feel like. Nothing dull or quick—but thought out with sparks flying everywhere.
“I…I’ve liked you, for a really—really long time.” Luke admitted blushing slightly. “I mean since the first day we met, I’m sure.”
“I don’t want you to think this is a rebound thing.” You mumbled and he kissed you sweetly, dispelling the thought right out of your head.
“I know it’s not. You’re just finally realizing your feeling for me because I’m so awesome.” Luke joked, but it made you waiver your doubts in an instance. “I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll be a better boyfriend than him.”
“You already are. You already have…” You repeated and kissed him again. It was true, Luke had practically been your boyfriend on the side when dates with Nate weren’t working out. He cheered you up, brought flowers to your event, and made you feel less guilty about the boxing match.
The two of you parted after a little bit. Foreheads resting on one another. “How about…we ditch this party, get the others and have another movie night?” Luke suggested.
“You just want to do more face masks.” You accused jokingly.
“I do not!” You could feel hit grin, so close to your face. Luke wrapped a strong arm around your waist and guided you back to the party. He was going to retrieve your friends.
“Do too.” You retorted and pointed at his smile.
“Okay, maybe I do. Can we do them?” Luke pouted and faced you.
“Fine.”
Luke’s grin widened. He celebrated walking back inside to retrieve your friends. He wanted you to time him. A motivation thing, you guessed.
The timer stopped at ten minutes and fifty one seconds when he came out of your house with Clarisse, Silena and Thalia.
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CHAPTER 4
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: experiencing your new found freedom with luke and co (why does he smile at you like that?)
warnings: not proofread! slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, aged up! pjo charcters, parental expectations
a/n: so guess who lied about being back…do you guys forgive me?
series list | next
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When Luke introduced you to just a sliver of what actual freedom, you yearned for more.
Freedom wasn’t running from the cops and partying every night. Freedom wasn’t skipping class just for the fun of it. Freedom wasn’t doing batshit crazy things under the excuse of “free will”.
Freedom was, to you, having fun—being a normal young adult without worrying about your parents’ opinion.
Between the last month and a half of classes, Luke made it his personal mission to let you fully experience your freedom. Though it was proving to be difficult.
Everytime you did something that would cause your parents to turn their faces away in clear disappointment, a nagging feeling pulled at the back of your mind.
For example, this weekend Luke, you and a couple of others went out to a house party. You were dancing with Luke when you felt guilt linger at the back of your mind. To party so carelessly knowing your parents would be disappointed—part of you wanted to forget their opinions and judgement. The other part of you wanted to tone it down at the party; lessen their disappointment.
It was like the devil and angel permanently moved to your shoulders to torment you.
Which is why you were about to do this.
Was it stupid? Yes. Will you get hurt? 100% Did you trust Luke enough? Somewhat.
“I want you to decide what you want to do—not for the sake of your parents or me or our friends. Make this choice because it’s what you want.” Luke called you late, one night. His voice firm, unwavering.
You wanted this.
Alcohol buzzed in your veins; temporarily silencing the devil and angel. The guilt that crept up on you was gone. You weren’t so far gone you couldn’t tell from left and right, but just enough to not feel guilty about anything.
Again. Was it stupid? Yes.
Will you get hurt? Maybe.
Did you trust Luke? Without a doubt.
Chris, Clarisse, Silena, Luke and you, the usual group, were kicked out of study hall, for disturbance of peace or whatever. Classes were canceled due to AC going down and you were going to study? This must’ve been a sign from the universe. Which led the group to a lake.
Now this was “public disturbance”
Tucked beneath the dense forest on the outskirts of campus, laid a cool lake. With the coming of summer sun, this had been a crucial hangout spot.
Would your parents freak about you jumping into a lake with gross bacteria and possible diseases? Absolutely.
Your childhood consisted of more “inside” activities. Rather than playing outside with your friends, scrapping knees, and such—you had the read a book on the couch as the clock ticks drove you insane.
Silena and you stood on the edge of a decently high ledge. Luke was swimming below. He had already tested the depth of the water. Chris’ speaker lit up in different colors as it played the song. His arm around Clarisse as he held a beer.
“Ready?” Silena turned to you. Her cheeks pink due to alcohol consumption.
“Ready.” You squeezed her hand.
The beat dropped. Silena and you jumped. The cold water engulfing you. The rush felt terribly addicting to you, sobering you up all too quickly. Yet the giddiness of it all provided a different high.
You broke through the surface and arms wrapped around your waist to keep you afloat. You weren’t the strongest swimmer. A laugh erupted from the depths of your soul as Luke wrapping an arm around his neck. His smile matching yours. The sun beared down on the lake, glittering the water’s surface.
Since when did he smile like that? Like you were the only person in the world. Like you were the brightest star in the sky.
Clarisse’s shouts of protest pull you out of your head. Chris is carrying her bridal style, a shit eating grin on his face as he jumps in with her. The afternoon was wasted away at the lake, sunbathing, swimming and drinking.
Your head buzzing with dopamine as you walked to Chris’ car. Luke insisted you wore his dry t-shirt. It was baggy and your wet bathing suit would affect it less. He insisted and made the lame excuse of it being boyfriend material 101.
His t-shirt smelled like him. A mix of sandalwood and vanilla, but you could hardly think about it when the windows were down, blasting music. The perfect summer vibes. Your heart beating fast due to the excitement and not anything else.
You hadn’t noticed at the time, but alcohol did more than just silence the angel and devil.
Whatever you had that afternoon, the freedom mixed with the alcohol and pure, raw happiness, you wanted to experience more of it. A time where you can forget about your parents’ and aunts and uncles future judgmental stares and rude comments.
“Y’know, I appreciate you toughing this out with me.” You spoke up one night.
Luke took you out to help you experience more of your newfound freedom. Which actually was just stargazing on the roof of his car.
Well…you supposed it worked. You didn’t care for your family’s opinion at the moment, even though you knew they chastise you for hanging out with the “bad influence”.
“I’m still in it for the trip, sweetheart.” Luke teased. His eyes darting from each star in the sky to your face. You were oblivious to his gaze, focused on the constellations above.
“I mean it. This fake dating must be a huge strike to your charming lady killer aura.” You sat up on your elbows, speaking in a joking tone. You hardly noticed he was looking at you already.
“Yeah, puts a real damper to my chick magnet having a fake girlfriend.” Luke snorted and sat up.
“You’ll be free soon enough.” You rolled your eyes.
A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You’ve been best friends since freshman year. It was only natural this would happen and besides there is no feelings attached. A little revenge and you still keep your friendship. A damn good deal if you every had one.
This was something you wanted to do. You had to do. To show your parents you won’t take their crap, to show they you’re grown up.
You shout with enthusiasm. Your body sticking out of Luke’s sun roof. The wind catching in your hair as the warm yellow lights of the tunnel illuminated the space. You felt free and unrestricted and awfully happy.
The best feeling in the world.
“I want a turn after!” Luke shouted, knowing the wind was too loud for you to hear.
“No way!” You did hear him.
Windows were down, blasting music.
“C’mon…” He pinched your leg.
“Stop!” You squealed.
You loved the feelings that swarmed in your heart. Only for it to end when red and blue lights and loud sirens were heard. Luke and you knew the consequences of the recklessness, but as you pulled over, you couldn’t help but share a couple of laughs—like teenage girls caught doing something bad.
You’re quite happy you’re in this with your best friend and no one else.
Making new memories with no romantic feelings attached.
It was the best. The best.
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GUYS PLEASE—I NEED NEED A SLIME TUTORIAL OF THIS
Audra McDonald stars as Rose in the Broadway revival of Gypsy (Majestic Theatre, 2024)
Stop this is so cutee— historical au is on my mind rn
Can you do an historical fiction Au kinda like Brigerton or Reign about Luke Castellan tying or undoing your corset with tension since he’s not really supposed to be there
-if you decide you wanna do it I hope you enjoy the prompt have a nice day
just twist it, that’s it. tie the knot and you’re finished. that’s it. as simple as that.
so why the hell aren’t your fingers doing the same thing as your brain demands? you’d tied a million knots in your life.
whether it was your shoes, or children’s shoes, your friend’s corsets, ties, ropes, and far more. but why did you always struggle with your own corsets?
with a huff, you release both of your hands and drop them to your sides frustratedly. you glance in the mirror, gaze following the falling strings but ultimately ending on a figure in your doorway.
you jump and turn your body, clutching a hand to your chest just where your breasts threaten to pool out entirely.
“need help?”
you glare at luke. while on any other occasion you may have been delighted at the sight of him, tonight was not one of those occasions.
tonight, you would dance and dine with the continents wealthiest men to search for a suitable husband. your secret lover was not one of those men. in fact, he hadn’t even came from this continent. he was born elsewhere.
whether he was or not, he was not eligible to be tied to your family according to your parents.
“you cannot be here.” you drop your hand as he walks towards you.
“I know.” luke smiles and grabs onto the discarded strings of your corset. “I thought you’d have learned after I taught you to tie.”
you cross your arms over your chest. “I can’t see what I’m tying. it’s not as easy as it appears.”
“ah. excuses.”
“you’re not supposed to be here. if my father finds you standing with me while I am in this state he will have your head on a stick.”
“I’ve seen you in less. he wouldn’t like that, would he?”
you scowl and remain silent as luke’s fingers work to finish off the last few laces.
he decides to fill the gap of silence since you are choosing not to. “your door is locked. your father is downstairs negotiating with a man in a suit.”
“he could come up at any moment. or nephile will! she’ll report you back instantly!”
“I’ll bribe her.”
“luke,” you warn. “you will not bribe my maid.”
“of course not.” with a last tug of the ends of the strings, luke ties off the end in a knot, and letting his grand finale be a kiss upon your bare shoulder. “do you have more to dress?”
you nod and point to the thin remaining dress that covers the corset. it’s a crimson color, perfectly complimenting your hair in the way luke admires. it was cut low along the neckline, with flowing skirts you knew would be a pain to carry and walk in.
luke takes the dress into his hands, unzipping the back and ushering you to slip into it. with his simple accommodations, it’s as easy as pie to put on. once comfortable, he zips the back up, holding your hair to save it from the wrath of getting caught within the zipper.
“turn around for me.”
with obedience, you turn, smoothing out the front of your dress subconsciously. luke’s hands place on your upper arms where the sleeves had not reached.
“you look magnificent. like a goddess. it’s a shame I will not be taking this off as well.”
“it’s not too much?” you reach for your necklace on the vanity, unclipping it and tying it around your neck, letting it fall between your breasts.
“no. you’ll have success tonight.”
“I do not want success. only for this night to end.”
“I know.” the circumstances were unfortunate for the both of you. luke brushes a strand of hair from your face before cupping your jaw, his other hand slivering around your waist.
you reach up on tippy-toes and press a swift kiss to his lips. “you have to leave.”
“I know.” by your jaw, luke pulls your mouth back to his for a longer, lingering kiss. it’s far less innocent that the first, but it equally has you forgetting your worries as your brain goes fuzzy.
you fist his shirt within your hands to keep your knees from giving out beneath you. luke swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, asking silently for access inside the warm hollow of your mouth.
you’d say yes under any other situation— but you knew the moment his tongue was down your throat you’d never make it downstairs.
so you pull away with a rose blush and a shake of your head. “come back tonight. at midnight. my mother never lets parties last longer than that.”
“I will wait.” luke kisses each of your heated cheeks. “good luck.”
you’d need it if you were to last three hours with wetted undergarments.
— I enjoyed this prompt a great amount thank you anon <33