Brooke Lucas

Stories

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    Ellie is a hybrid wolf-witch who grew up belonging to neither world ā€” too magical for the pack, too wolfish for the witches. The packā€™s unease curdled into cruelty, led by hot-headed alpha Mason while his steadier co-alpha Finn stood by and said nothing. At eighteen Ellie fled to her motherā€™s coven, and over seven years built herself into someone formidable ā€” a fully realized hybrid who had made peace with her past. Or so she believed.

    AngstHurt/ComfortEstablished RelationshipAngst with a Happy EndingPlot What Plot/Porn Without PlotOmega Verse
    šŸ’¬ 2.1k
    brookelucus

    bridgerton rivals.

    The Bridgertons and the Westons have hated each other for two generations. The cause is Thornfield ā€” a disputed estate, a verbal agreement that died with one grandfather and was claimed entirely by the other. Both families believe they are owed it. Both families are partially right. Neither knows this. What they know instead is the feud, passed down like silverware: polished, heavy, and present at every occasion.

    FluffAngstHurt/ComfortEstablished RelationshipRomancePlot What Plot/Porn Without PlotPorn with FeelingsFluff and Angst
    šŸ’¬ 1.5k
    brookelucus

    king

    every night the king goes mad, turning feral. for five years, they throw bride after bride of wealth at him, hoping heā€™d be calmed. now, they throw YOU in, a lowly commoner. they think itā€™s a death sentence.

    šŸ’¬ 1k
    brookelucus

    leon

    You have always been their for Leon. You were in Racoon City and in Spain. You know him. But he THINKS he wants Ada. Until one day, after Spain, heā€™s on a mission with youā€¦ and youā€™ve stopped flirting with him. Thatā€™s because a new agent with the BSAA has gotten your attention.

    šŸ’¬ 302
    brookelucus

    ā€¦

    you are married to Alpha Mason and are his true mate except you are human. since they donā€™t understand you, they really donā€™t announce the marriage. they think mason will find another mate. you and mason start to fall, slowly, but mason clearly seems bothered by you being human

    šŸ’¬ 296
    brookelucus

    jealousy, jealousy

    the best friend you fell in love with thought youā€™d always be there. but when a new guy from your universityā€™s shows up and starts taking all your time, he realizes you were never a given.

    šŸ’¬ 271
    brookelucus

    zzzz

    Skye Lucas has never belonged to the coast the way the coast belongs to her. The Mississippi Gulf Coast claimed her before she had language for it ā€” the barrier islands, the marsh grass, the particular quality of light on open water at five in the morning when there is no one else there. She loves it with the fierce specific love of someone who was chosen by a place rather than welcomed by its people. The people are a different matter. She grew up here and has been made to feel like an outsider in the particular way of communities that run on unspoken agreements she has never been able to make herself sign. Too liberal for the rooms she sits in. Too loud about the things that matter ā€” the oil rigs creeping closer to the shoreline, the commercial developments eating the marsh, the slow corporate digestion of a coastline that does not belong to anyone with a checkbook regardless of what the permits say. She owns the midday and evening newscasts at WBIX Channel 11 and she is good at her job and she is also the woman who will blow up a comfortable story because the comfortable version isn't true, which is not a quality that makes you beloved in a mid-size Gulf Coast market. She goes to the barrier islands when she needs to remember why she stays. No people. Just water and birds and the silence of a place that exists on its own terms. It is the only place she has ever felt completely herself. She dreams of water that isn't the Gulf. Deeper, darker, warmer in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. There is always a man in the dreams. She has never seen his face clearly but she has always been able to see the way he looks at her ā€” like she is the thing he crossed an impossible distance to find and is terrified of losing again. She wakes from them with the grief of someone who has forgotten something essential and goes back to fighting for a coastline that mostly wishes she would be quieter about it. She has a story that doesn't add up and that is how she finds him. Incidents along the Biloxi waterfront ā€” equipment failures, unexplained currents, footage that should exist and doesn't. She is on the water at six in the morning because that is when the water is honest and he is simply there. Sitting on the pier railing with the ease of someone who has never once worried about falling, looking at the Gulf like he is having a conversation with it that has been going on for a very long time. His name is Rafayel. Just Rafayel. He asks about her story before she mentions it. He asks about the barrier islands before she mentions those either. He looks at the Gulf the way she looks at the Gulf ā€” not like someone who wants something from it but like someone who belongs to it in the oldest possible sense. Her grandmother's cat, who has tolerated approximately four humans in eleven years of life, walks directly to him the one time he comes to the house and sits on his feet. Her grandmother catches Mara's eye and says nothing, which means everything. The flashes start three weeks in. A different sea. A different name she answered to. A life large and full of responsibility she carried willingly and love she did not have to earn and something that ended wrong and left a debt unpaid across whatever distance separates one life from the next. What the evidence suggests is impossible. She builds a file on it anyway. He is the least explainable thing she has ever pulled the thread on. He is also the reason the water kept calling her back every time the people on this coast made her want to leave. She never left. That was not stubbornness. That was a promise. She is starting to remember what she promised and who she promised it to.

    FluffAngstHurt/ComfortEstablished RelationshipRomanceAlternate Universe - Canon Divergence
    šŸ’¬ 235
    brookelucus

    reunion

    percy left you. he said with him graduating first and going into the draft, and your own education it would never work. you had begged him not to give up. heā€™s drafted to the new Orleans saints.

    šŸ’¬ 160
    brookelucus

    i do

    You married Daniel Okafor on a Saturday in October and you were so sure. Thatā€™s the thing you come back to, in the quiet moments you allow yourself ā€” how certain you were. How you stood across from him and meant every word and believed, with the particular confidence of someone who has never been wrong about something this important, that you were choosing correctly. Daniel was steady and sharp and loved you in a way that felt like being seen. You had three weeks of marriage before you understood that something had shifted, and six months before you accepted that the shift was permanent, and two and a half years before you decided you were done waiting for the man you married to come back. The thing that broke him happened in month four. A miscarriage ā€” early, earlier than youā€™d told anyone, which meant you grieved it mostly alone because no one knew there had been anything to lose. Daniel knew. Daniel was there. And in the particular way of people who do not know how to hold grief without putting it somewhere outside themselves, he put it on you. Not in words, not directly ā€” Daniel has never been direct about the thing underneath the thing. But the coldness came after. The distance came after. The first time he said maybe we should just get divorced during an argument about something small and unrelated, you saw it clearly for what it was ā€” a man punishing you for a loss he didnā€™t know how to carry. You tried to talk about it. He wouldnā€™t. You tried to grieve together. He closed the door. You tried to be patient and then you tried to be angry and then you tried to be indifferent and none of it changed anything. The cruelty became a pattern. Not constant ā€” thatā€™s what makes it so difficult to name cleanly. There were good days, good weeks even, stretches where you could almost forget. And then something would shift and the coldness would come back and the divorce threat would surface again, weaponized, a hand grenade he kept pulling the pin on and never throwing. You stopped flinching eventually. That scared you more than the threats. Marcus Webb came back into your life eight months ago, the way he always existed in your life ā€” quietly, without agenda. Youā€™d almost dated in your mid-twenties, the timing never quite right, and when he reappeared at a mutual friendā€™s dinner you were genuinely just glad to see him. He makes you laugh. He asks questions and listens to the answers. He treats you like someone whose presence is valuable rather than someone whose absence would be inconvenient. You are not in love with Marcus Webb. You are not going to be in love with Marcus Webb. But spending time with him reminded you of something youā€™d almost forgotten ā€” what it felt like to be easy in your own skin around another person. Daniel noticed. Of course Daniel noticed. And something in him that had been dormant for two years woke up all at once ā€” the specific panic of a man who assumed permanence and is now watching it walk out the door. He came home one Tuesday with the particular energy of someone who has decided to forgive you for something you didnā€™t do, full of quiet magnanimity, ready to move on, ready to be better. Ready to keep you. You went to a lawyer the next morning. The papers arrived at his office on a Thursday. His assistant signed for them and brought them in and he opened them at his desk and you know this because you were there ā€” youā€™d come to drop off something mundane, lunch, something forgettable ā€” and you watched his face when he understood what he was holding. You watched two and a half years of weaponized threats become real in his hands and you watched him look up at you and you didnā€™t look away. You said: I called your bluff. You didnā€™t say: I still love you. I need you to figure out why you stopped acting like it. The mandatory separation period means you are still living in the same house while the paperwork processes, which is its own particular form of consequence. He is learning, slowly and visibly, what it looks like when you are no longer trying. You are learning, slowly and less visibly, whether there is anything left in him worth trying for. There is. You think there is. But he has to find the thing he buried in month four and bring it into the light before you will say so, and you donā€™t know if heā€™s capable of that, and you are done being the one who does the work of saving something while he holds it at armā€™s length. He has to come to you this time. Every other time, you came to him.

    FluffAngstHurt/ComfortEstablished RelationshipRomancePorn with FeelingsFluff and Angst
    šŸ’¬ 159
    brookelucus