#I don't think I can be at home too much this summer I think it'll break me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 2 years ago

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𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you get upset when eddie's friends think you're clingy. he sets you straight with some unbridled affection. requested here. fem!reader, 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The diner is bustling with life and smells alike, people in their summer jackets eager to sit down and dig into a plate of greasy, fatty meats. You're just as excited, your fingers curled into Eddie's sleeve and following his lead as he weaves through a gaggle of kids playing between the bar and the booths.

"Sorry, sir," a young girl says to him, springing out of his path.

"That's okay," he says, leaning back to squint at you curiously, "Do I look like a sir?" he asks you.

Pale faced, dark-haired, the remnants of last night's eyeliner clinging to his bottom lashes, you can't say you'd look at Eddie and think, Sir. Pretty boy extraordinaire with a rather inviting smile, absolutely.

"I think so, sir," you say.

Eddie laughs at you, pressing a hand behind your shoulders to move you along. His friend Gareth waves from a booth tucked in a corner under a white sconce. Jamison sits to his left, and Margaret to his right. You feel a little skip in your pulse at the sight —they intimidate you, and you want desperately for them to like you, only you never know what to say.

"Hey," Eddie says as you approach the booth. He pushes you gently to encourage you into the seat first. "How's it going? Did we order?"

"We were waiting for you. They said we have to go up to the bar when we're ready."

"We're late, I get it. Where's Jeff?"

"He went to the bathroom, like, ten minutes ago," Jamison says with a sigh, climbing to his feet. "I'll go see if he's alright."

"He's fine. Maggie, are you coming to order?" Gareth says, getting up with him.

"Yes, finally!" she says.

The relative chaos of your arrival has you hesitating in your seat. Margaret left her purse and her jacket on the table, and Jamison his keys.

"You okay to stay here while I order?" Eddie asks.

You'd much prefer Eddie order for you, but you don't want to be sitting here by yourself if Jamison and Jeff come back before him. You won't know what to say. It won't be their fault. You'll make things awkward for everyone.

You stand up again, shedding your jacket as you do. No one's gonna steal anyone's stuff, the bar is too close. "I'll come with you."

Eddie slots your fingers together easily, grinning, "Lucky me."

His friends order first and return to the booth soon after. You and Eddie get cut by a cranky looking old lady but neither of you say anything, nowhere to be and no reason to mind. He tells you about the guitar he's been repairing at work and you listen adoringly, in love with the shape of his lips and how he says every word. He's a great storyteller.

A new friend appears once you've ordered.

"Hey, Eddie!" one of the waiters says, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and fries in hand. "Man, I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. The string on my daughter's guitar flew off, nearly blinded her in the process, would you be able to fix that for me? I'll pay you for your time."

Eddie waves it off. "It'll only take five minutes, you can drop by whenever I'm home. Why do they keep splitting like that, is she messing with the pegs?"

"She definitely is. Can I get your number? Macey washed my pants without emptying the pockets."

There's a mad scramble for a pen. You have one in your jacket because Eddie's always looking for one, but your jacket is back in the booth. You promise to make a hasty return and set off for it, glad to see Jeff's alright, standing at the table likely waiting for you and Eddie to get back rather than move your things. You like Jeff most out of everyone. With the whole group collected you know he won't drag you into conversation.

"She's a bit… much," Gareth's saying.

"How can she be a bit much? She doesn't say a lot," Maggie says.

You frown. You're the only other she.

"Not like that, just– the touching and stuff. She's always grabbing onto him like a toddler. I don't think I could stand it."

"You don't have to stand it," Jeff says. "She's Eddie's girl."

"Clearly."

"Gareth, when was the last time you got laid?" Maggie asks, flicking a hair tie at him, to his annoyance. "You're being bitter. They fucking love each other, man, it's nice."

"It is a little tiny bit too much sometimes," Jamison says.

You wince. You know it's a matter of seconds before one of them turns to see you standing there. Is it worse to turn around or to approach?

You walk up to the table just as Gareth says, "Yes! Thank you man, she's too–"

He cuts off when he sees you with a cough.

"Who?" you ask, full well knowing it's you. Honestly, you're shy but you still get mad, you kind of want him to own up and say it while you're there, and at the same time you're hoping against hope they'll lie.

Thankfully, they pretend it was about someone else.

"Nobody," Maggie says.

"Some girl at the library," Jamison says.

You lean past Jeff with as sunny an apology as you can manage to grab the pen from your jacket. "Eddie," you say by way of explanation, holding the pen up with a shrug.

You walk away quicker than you should. It's obvious you've overheard. There's a thump and a, "Nice fucking job, loser."

Eddie's deep in conversation as you offer the pen. He takes it without stopping, but he makes sure he kisses your cheek.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" you say.

"I'll be right there, sweetheart."

To get to the bathroom you have to walk past the booth again. With the hurt feeling pounding between your ears and what you suspect might be all eyes on you, you make for one of the two doors. The summer sun and the dry Hawkins heat hits you immediately, a second layering of smothering to wrap around the first. You walk around a rainbow chalk hopscotch and into the shade of the smoking shelter, hands at your collar, breathing hard.

Don't cry, you think firmly. Don't cry. They'll know if you do and that's twice as embarrassing as walking out. Imagine how embarrassed Eddie will feel if you cause a scene.

You sit on the little perch in the shelter and stare at the floor. There's nowhere to look that isn't stingingly bright, the sun in the white-blue sky glaring down on you and the sidewalk bleached a blinding ivory. You close your eyes against it. Your shoulders hunch in protectively. Your hands find their way to your face.

Like a toddler, Gareth said. You press your fingertips into your eyes, fighting against the ache. Is that true? Are you childish in how much you rely on Eddie? You take his hand and his arm, you catch onto his clothes when you're worried, you step behind him when you're overwhelmed.

"Shit," you whisper.

The breeze washing over you does little to cool you down. You must sit there for a handful of minutes, worried and nauseous.

"Hey," Eddie says gently. You flinch despite his best efforts not to startle you.

He looks tall outlined by the sun.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I just wanted some fresh air," you say.

He raises his brows slightly. "That why Gareth just apologised to me?"

You wince as he sits down. All of you wants to sag into his side, but a small voice tells you not to. You stay ramrod straight, hands pressed flat and clammy to your knees.

Eddie gives your elbow a rub. His thumb digs into soft skin and the harder suggestion of cartilage and bone before sliding up. He uses touch often to convey silent reassurement. This seems to say, I don't know what happened, but I'm here.

"I'm fine. We can go back inside," you say, attempting to fool him.

"There's no rush." His voice tips to a low, rough register. He's keyed in to your upset, no doubt about it. "It's a nice day, babe."

He gives you a minute. The small feathering of clouds skirts one edge of the horizon to the other, the shadow of the diner stretching tall as the sun lazes down. You push the worst of your feelings from your mind. It's easy to do with such an unshakeable support at your side, his fingers curling down to your forearm, vying for a hand to hold.

"I heard your friends talking about me. It wasn't all nice," you confess.

"Assholes."

You glance at his face. He has a crease between his brows.

"Well, mostly Gareth. He said that I… act like a kid. A toddler, that I'm too much, at least for him to stand. And don't get me wrong, Eds, I'm not thrilled that they were talking about me, but I guess I…" You take a short breath and look away from him. "I hate that it's true."

"You can be mad when people talk shit. I'm mad," he says. "He said you're like a toddler?" He shuffles closer to you on the bench. "Babe, it's not true, okay? You're not too much. Fuck, we're here to hang out and they can't wait ten minutes to run their mouths–"

"It wasn't like that, it was just Gareth." Gareth's always been the selfish friend.

"He doesn't get a pass for saying something shitty 'cos he's always shitty. I brought you here," —you peek at him, recognising upset in his tone even when it's the barest inkling— "knowing you didn't really want to come because you get so nervous," —he sounds pained for you— "I fucking told him to leave you alone. I said we wouldn't come around if he didn't stop being a mood killer."

You worry at your bottom lip. "Maybe that's kind of his point, Eds. You have to look out for me. You had to ask someone to be nice to me 'cos I can't handle it–"

"You don't have to handle it. The people around you should be nice to you. This isn't high school, you don't have to put up with it, and I told him that." Eddie grabs your arm with the hand that isn't tangled in yours and turns you to face him. "I'm sorry," he says, almost a murmur, "I didn't invite you today to have you humiliated."

You're feeling a little mortified by the passion of his feelings. He's mad at the wrong person, isn't he? "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who clings to you."

"I want you to." Eddie holds your eyes, brown and big and imploring you to listen, the starts of his brows sewing together. "I'm sorry because it's not fair. And because Gareth was a dick to you. And for getting mad." He smiles at you ruefully. "I'm being a dick, too."

"In what world?"

Eddie leans in slowly, giving you enough time to close your eyes as his nose bumps into yours, encouraging your head up to allow for a kiss. He kisses twice, a third time, pulling away to rub your bottom lip.

"Are you really upset?" he asks softly.

You know whatever answer you give him is one he's okay with.

"I feel so embarrassed," you say. "They knew that I overheard them. Now I feel like I'll be constantly worried about how much I'm touching you."

"Well, that's their problem. That doesn't say shit about you," Eddie says, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm really not too much?" you ask. He can likely hear how desperate you are for a kind answer, your throat burning with the effort it takes to stave off tears.

"You've never been too much. I'm the too-much one. You wouldn't even hold my hand when we first started dating, you remember that? We'd go to the movies and you'd get so flustered when I bought your ticket." Eddie's arms wrap around your waist, the breeze ruffling his sweet curls and sending gusts of his smell your way. You're a goner, dropping your face into his shoulder. "Do you remember that?" he asks again, his face slipping down to yours as he hugs you close. "The first time we went to the Hawk together, I went first, and I don't know why you thought you'd have to buy your own ticket but you got all quiet when I got yours, too. I loved that. You know what I loved even more than that?"

You smile, knowing he's going to say something lovely. "What?" you ask.

"I loved how proud you were to sit down with me. You wouldn't hold my hand but you'd put your cheek on my shoulder just like this."

Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your temple. "I love how much you want to be near me," he says. "It's not childish, is it? If being closer to me makes you feel better, there's nothing wrong with that. Gareth's just jealous 'cos he isn't getting laid."

"That's what Maggie said." You laugh.

"Maggie's a good one. She makes Gareth bearable, kind of."

You feel the stretch of his back under your hands. Your head is pounding from the sudden rush of big emotions, your tongue dry and throat aching, but you don't have a lick of urgency to get up and go back in.

"He's such a dick," you whisper.

Eddie laughs, patting your back. "Such a fucking dick."

"I can't help being a loser and wanting to hug you so much," you say. You're joking now, but it's true all the same.

"I tempt the untemptable," he says agreeably.

You laugh and lift up a bit to hug him harder, your face pressing into his neck.

"You're not a loser," he says more seriously. "You know that, right? What Gareth said, it's not okay, but there's no accounting for idiocy." Eddie sits back on the bench, taking your forearms into his hands for some more soft massaging. "He can think whatever he likes, I'm not the government, but he was wrong, and also it's rude and, again, super shitty of him to do that here. So with your blessing I'm gonna punch him in the face."

"Nooooo," you murmur.

"Very soft no. Taking it for a yes."

"Eddie, you can't hit Gareth."

"He should watch his mouth, then."

You reach up for a second hug. You love that he prioritised how you felt, as well as how eager he is to stick up for you —how mad he is on your behalf.

"He's trying to take this away from me," Eddie says, leaning back under your weight, arms crossing behind your spine. He looks up at you like you've stolen his breath, lips parted and teeth peeking out with his smile.

"Do you really want to punch him?" you ask. You sound very fond.

"I hate that he made you feel bad about yourself. And he irritates me."

"But…"

Eddie hums like he's thinking for a moment. "No, I definitely still want to hit him."

You tuck a curl away from his cheek tenderly. "Thanks for wanting to defend my honour, Eds," you say.

"I'm on your side through everything." He looks ridiculously pretty saying such a ridiculously lovely thing. "That's how we work, right? You're on my side too?"

Your face flushes with heat. "Of course I am, baby."

"Good. Unrelated to our previous conversation, how much money do you have, roughly? In case I need financial aid in the coming days." He drops his voice to a whisper, "How much even is bail lately?"

You cup his cheek. "We can't afford it," you whisper back.

"Typical."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 4 months ago

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Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

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novemberheart · 6 months ago

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{overview} The two alphas in the pack are warming up to you and you can't help but feel the same

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, fem reader, a bit of reader backstory, poly 141 x reader

Chapter 7 <- Chapter 8 -> Chapter 9

“Sweetheart, I want you to promise me two things.” John began as you started your walk back home. “Number one, if there's a question on this thing-” he nearly growled, holding up the envelope he was carrying for you. “that you don't want to answer, don't. Nobody's business if you don't want it to be, understand?”

“Yes, Alpha.” the title slipped from your lips out of instinct. You were so focused on your own embarrassment to notice the sudden rise in his body temperature, or the way he began holding the envelopes lower. “I’m sorry-”

“Don't be,” he insisted. “You can call me whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable to you,” he assured, causing your heart rate to slow. The title ‘alpha’ certainly fits the Captain. It also felt more personal- more intimate than John. You hoped the outside air would be enough to waft away the growing sweetness in your scent.

“What was the other thing you wanted me to promise?” you reminded.

“That you'll seriously think about getting chipped. If it's a hard no, I'll understand, but it's important to me- to all of us that we set you up to be safe should anything happen.” he requested.

The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering around at lightspeed. The alpha was close to you as you walked. The overwhelming urge to just tuck yourself under his strong arm so he could make good on his promises. A whine left your throat at the understanding that you couldn't touch him yet.

Alpha's were built to keep their omegas warm. Your omega was throwing a temper tantrum at the denial.

“I’ll stop pressing you, sweetheart. I apologize.”

You quickly realized he was referencing your whine. The sound made his stomach flip.

“No- I wasn’t whining at that. I'm not sure where that came from, to be honest.” you lied. “It's probably a good idea actually. It'll help me feel safer too.” you didn't know who had taken over your mouth. Maybe it was desperation. If you got chipped that would be one step closer to being his.

“Come on, pup.” You poked your head outside your door, peering at Simon as he shut the TV off and stood up from the couch. He winced a bit as he tested how much weight he could put on his leg. He stood still watching you with dull eyes. You quickly got up and trotted over to him.

“Do you need something?” you pondered.

“Time for your walk,” he smirked down at you, making his way over to the kitchen, where he grabbed his key card and a pack of cigarettes out of the drawer. He then grabbed a black balaclava and tugged it over his head. Your brows furrowed at the tease in his voice, but you complied heading back towards your room to grab a pair of shoes. “Need to get you walking shoes.” he ‘tsked’ eyeing your flats. There was a subtle limp in his walk and you could tell he was trying to downplay it.

“Do you need a cane or something?” you poked. He shot you a look, but his hand reached up and rested on the back of your neck, causing you to erupt in goosebumps.

“This’ll do.” he shot back, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“You like being outside don't you?” he observed, watching the way your breathing deepened and a glow appeared on your face as the sun hit it. You nodded your head.

“I grew up in a crowded city. Every summer break my parents would take me to the countryside to be with the rest of our pack,” you explained.

“Split pack?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you affirmed softly.

“That’ll serve you here.” Simon commented. “You already have experience being away from the majority of your pack, along with knowing how to manage the emotions that come with it.”

“For when you guys have to do your jobs?” you clarified. He sucked air through his teeth, then hummed in agreement. When you were at the Omega house you would lie awake thinking about it, growing anxious even though you had no relationship with them. Now the thought of them leaving wasn't an entirely negative one. You hoped that they wouldn't all leave at the same time. It would give you a chance to bond with those who stayed and miss the ones who left. “How often do you leave anyways?” you questioned.

“Eager, huh?” he gave the back of your neck another squeeze. “We never know. Sometimes we’ll go a few weeks without being called away, other times we’ll just be here a few days out of the month.”

“Do you all leave at the same time?” you held your breath.

“Sometimes.” he drew out. “That might change with you though, at least in the beginning.” he sighed. He guided you behind a large building, releasing your neck. He leaned against the side of it, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, rolling his mask up, and placing the cigarette between his lips. “You don't smoke do you?”

“No.” you nearly spat.

“Good, nasty habit.” he praised, lighting it. All was quiet between the two of you and you focused on trying to listen to the birds between the distant sound of gunfire, whirling machines, and shouting. “How’d you end up in an omega house?” he asked suddenly. He watched as you frilled up like a spooked cat.

“When I was fifteen my mom left us.” you began. You avoided Simon’s gaze even though you could feel the burn of it. “My dad reclaimed shortly after and along with that came a new pack. I didn't adjust too well.” you trailed off.

“Their fault or yours?” he questioned. You paused for a long moment mulling it over. You finally lifted your eyes from the tree line, merging with Simons. Cold and unreadable.

“I'm not sure. Mix of both,” you whispered. He got the last bit of cigarette he could before putting it out against the lid of a trash can.

“Tell you what.” he started. The grip on the back of your neck returned, as he headed back towards the pavement. “I’ll let you know whose fault it is after I get to know you a bit better.” he offered. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the slight sting in your chest at the memories.

“Hey, Peaches.” an instant smile appeared on your face at the familiar voice.

“Hi, Johnny.” you smiled up at him. You had just gotten back from your walk with Simon when John and Kyle came back to swoop you up for lunch. After they dropped you back off you were determined to finally finish unpacking.

“Need any help?” He asked, taking a seat in your doorway.

“Not really.” you sighed, looking over your horrible wrinkled clothes. “Thanks though, Johnny.” You smiled. He smiled back, getting himself comfortable by leaning against your doorframe. “Can I ask you something?” you asked hesitantly.

“Course, bonnie,” he replied instantly.

“How come you don't have an omega yet?” his smile remained on his face as he shrugged.

“I always wanted one, and I know Kyle has been thinking about it a lot lately, well, ever since Laswell had brought it up. I think the Captain was putting it off because he's a worrier. Simon is just a prick.” he whispered the last part, his eyes snapping over to the couch where Simon had passed out. You giggled, following his gaze. “I hope we didn't hurt your feelings, bonnie. I know Laswell wanted to pair you up with us sooner and we”-

“Rejected the idea?” You finished for him. He nodded his head- regretfully.

“Didn’t know it would be you though.” The smirk returned to his face, as his eyes drifted up and down you playfully.

“I don’t think Simon’s a prick.” You defended softly, wanting to change the subject. “He’s been quite nice to me. Well- all of you have.” You sighed happily.

The words he wanted to say were at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back. The truth was you seemed rather oblivious to your impact. The closest way he could describe you was addictive. Your scent, your eyes, even the way you scowled when you didn’t approve of something. You had flipped a switch in the brains that had been dormant their whole lives. It wasn't just him either. He watched the way John eyed the clock and practically sprinted out the door when it was time to pick you up for lunch. He noticed the way Kyle picked out a deep, forest green shirt today because you had absentmindedly shared you had liked the color. Just the idea that you had been chosen for them. You had been selected with the intention to be theirs. And even though you still hadn't bonded with them or been marked, the prideful beta in him rumbled at the thought.

Instead of saying all that he settled with:

“Give him some time, Peaches. He’ll come around.” he snickered.

“If you say so.” you huffed.

“We should throw your things in the dryer, Bon. Can't have you walking around like nobody’s takin’ care of ya.”

It was dark out before you knew it. You had already eaten dinner, orange chicken with white rice. They didn't have a dessert, but Kyle quickly raced to the vending machine to get you a candy bar. You smiled, curling yourself deeper into your blanket.

All of you were together, for the first time since you had arrived. John is at the very end of the couch, with his feet up on the coffee table. Kyle lying next to him, his feet nearly on his lap. Johnny was also sprawled out, he and Kyle sharing a pillow. Simon sat stiffly next to him. His pain meds must be starting to wear off. You could always tell because an annoyed scowl would appear on his face. You were curled up on the other side of Simon, and you took it upon yourself to slowly inflate your scent. You weren't sure if he knew you did it on purpose, but you felt giddy when you saw his tense muscles begin to relax.

It was John's turn to pick what to watch- although he offered to forgo his turn if there was something that caught your eye. You politely shot him down, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy. He had settled on a ‘How It's Made’ episode about kayaks, safety boots, electronic signs, and cereals.

All in all, it was the perfect recipe for sleep. A pack that you were beginning to feel comfortable with, a calm voice on TV, a full stomach, and a soft blanket.

John watched as your eyelids began to droop. You were comfortable. He was pleased with how easily you had adjusted to their pack. He knows the first day wasn't easy- or what you had hoped for. If he could do it all again, trust him, he would. But here you were drifting in and out of sleep, the smell of warm peaches and vanilla filling the air. It made his own restless mind slow, and the ache in his temples dissipated.

“She asleep?” Johnny whispered. It was then he realized the show had ended. “Should we move her back to her room?” The Scot questioned, peeling himself off of the couch. He stretched, his back popping loudly.

“Best leave her out here with me,” Simon said all too quickly. Three heads snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” he growled. “You want me to get better or not?” he reminded. They all agreed, not voicing any other theories about why he wanted you there with him.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll see you in two days for chapter 9! 🧡

#novemberheart #captain john price #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #poly141 #price x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #a/b/o dynamics #call of duty #as needed

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

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hey!! can i please order a blueberry muffin with an espresso shot and maybe a vodka shot on the side, served by danny ricc? thanks!! x

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu! there is something for everyone and i love getting new orders! i am currently hard at work trying to get through all the current ones! as for this one, i have gotten a few for ricciardo and i've been looking to write him more so thank you for your order!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dirty talking, sleepy but rough sex, desperate!daniel

the summer break felt good. you were exhausted, so you could only imagine what your boyfriend of the last few years was feeling. the back to backs was wearing him down so it was nice just to be sprawled out in his apartment in monaco.

daniel's strong arm draped over you as you stayed snuggled up next to him. the sun shined through the large window and you two stayed tangled up in one another.

you opened your eyes a little at the feeling of the sun against your face. you then sighed and rolled over to face your lover. soft kisses on his cheeks slowly woke him up.

"happy saturday, my love." you said.

he smiled a little, "happy saturday, first saturday we've had together in a while." if he wasn't racing then he was practicing for racing or traveling. there had been very few moments since the season started where you two simply existed in each other's presence.

it was comforting, it felt like home.

he went in for a kiss on the lips purely by instinct, he sighed contently when your lips pressed against his. he kept those arms wrapped around you tightly as you both laid in bed.

he kissed at your face more and you melted into his touch. your eyes went wide for a moment as he put you on your back and looked down at you. you could see the tinge of pink across his cheeks and he chuckled a little. "still look as beautiful as ever. even with bed head." he rubbed his morning hard on against your front.

you made a small noise and felt a curl of pleasure in your gut. you looked up at your lover and smiled, "i mean you're alright. the morning breath is a bit much." then laughed when daniel started to tickle you.

"i want to make up for all the times we were apart. with you at work and me on the track." he knew very well that he made enough that you would never have to work again, but you were determined to be a productive member of society. but, sometimes he wished he could take you away to the track and have his good luck charm there all the time.

you reached up for him and started to take his t-shirt off. the sight of his bare chest made something grow warm inside of you. it was like every time you saw him, even with the nicks and bruises from racing. he was still so painfully hot.

you got your head up on the pillows and got off your sleeping shorts. it had been so hot in the city that you two were basically sleeping in your underwear most nights.

he got his own shorts off and rubbed his underwear clad cock up against your stomach, pre-cum staining the front of his briefs. he groaned, "were you always this beautiful, i mean, you always were beautiful. but there's something about you right now that is just getting me so turned on."

you chuckled, "i think you're just half asleep, my dear. how about once i tame the rat's nest of my hair.

"nah, nah." he leaned in closer, and worked to get his cock out of his underwear, "i like the rat's nest. my sleepy baby wanting to get fucked out." he planted a kiss on your cheek, "i don't think it'll fit. i think my girl's cunt is too small."

you whined, "c'mon, danny." you rolled your hips and little to entice him. and it made the blood all rush to daniel's cock, you noticed it and looked up at him with such a sweet expression, "if you don't fuck me, no one else will. because i only want you, so it's not fair if you don't fuck me."

daniel felt a pain in his chest and his cock bob. he swallowed and said, "that's what i like to hear, babe." he stroked his cock a little bit and eyed your naked form. stripped of all clothes now, and so beautiful.

he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his exposed cock up against your wet slit. there was something about having sex so early in the morning, with nothing else on the schedule. just the two of you.

he groaned a little bit, "this is all mine." daniel's dirty talk was something else. as he rubbed up against you, his tongue went wild, "so pretty under me, letting me fuck you so early in the morning. you're such a good girl for me. you are meant for me, and only me."

you felt the pleasure pump through your body. you grit your teeth for a moment as you felt him slip his cock into you. despite his initial remark, it did fit.

he moved against you slowly, he found his heartbeat in his ears as he rocked against you. he could feel the heat of pleasure in his head as he moved against you. you were just so painfully good under him.

his bulkier frame crowded your space, it made you feel small against him. he loved the feeling however, you were so sweet under him. painfully adorable in a way that he couldn't fully put into words. all he knew was that he wanted you, he yearned for you so badly that he didn't know what else he could besides bury his cock into you with a quickened pace.

he had you pressed further into the bed as he held you by the hips. he groaned, those big hands on your soft skin, moving you to his liking as his cock bullied against your sweet, slick pussy.

"i love you." he said as he swallowed back his pleasure.

you looked up at him, your eyes a little hooded from the sleep and pleasure. your cheeks felt hot as you said, "i love you too, please, danny. i need you."

he chuckled, "don't worry, babe. you got me, you got me until the day we die. you're my forever." he kissed at your face, feeling the heat pool in his gut as he moved against you.

the feeling between you two was hot as the two of you fucked in the morning light. you whimpered a little and felt the pleasure in your brain.

his strokes were rough as he fucked you on the bed. you held onto the covers tightly as he pushed his cock as far it could reach. and even that was deep enough for you. he leaned in to kiss you passionately as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

his strokes were rough and they made you see stars. he loved when he bullied his cock into your pussy. the sight of you was beautiful when he pleasured you. he tensed his jaw for a moment before he said, "you're so painfully hot, babe. look at you, all needy under me."

you whimpered, "please, danny."

he chuckled, "i've got you, babe. fuck, you feel so good under me. right where you belong."

his words made you flushed as he continued to move. you felt the heat of orgasm through your system.

"fuckin' hell, danny!" you whined as you arched your back a little.

he picked up the pace and watched your grip onto the covers under your back. he admired the sight of your nude body under him. every curve, mole and mark was just beautiful to him. it made the blood thump in his ears as he kept his cock buried in you.

he swallowed and felt a shiver run through his body as he continued to thrust up against you. it was music to your ears, when you let out a sweet moan as you climaxed. his kept his gaze on him as he panted wildly.

"so beautiful."

"i love you." you panted.

he chuckled, "i love you too." then quickened his pace to meet his own orgasm. his cock buried as deep as it would go as he fucked you into the bed you shared. his pace was rougher, and his tongue felt looser as he said, "i only want ya, no one else can have you while i'm still alive. you're my girl, my one and only. from those pretty eyes to your prettier cunt. the way it takes me so well." he gasped before he came inside of your sweet slick pussy.

he slowed down his pace to a stop and kept his cock inside of you. he was still pretty hard, his heart was thumping heavily in his chest. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, that was one way to wake up.

you laid there, blissed out under him. he licked his lips at the sight of you and felt his cock twitch inside of you. he smiled down at you before he laid you on your side to get comfortable back into bed.

he slotted himself behind you and spread your legs. he sank his cock in once more from behind. not to rut against you, but to just hold you. to be comfortable next to you. he wanted to feel close to his woman, his beautiful light in his life.

while you both laid in bed, so intimately close, the sun shined down on both of you. you two were perfect for one another. <3

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kairismess · 9 months ago

Text

summer heat.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 description . . .

・:〃➜ with how hot the summer is getting, your favorite boys need some way to cool down and relax . . . preferably with you by their side.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. HAIKYUU BOYS – kenma, hinata, and suna.

KENMA.

it doesn't take long for kenma to start heaving, panting, and sweating underneath the heat of the deadly hot rays of the sun. he doesn't think he can last 5 more minutes under the sun with how hot the summer's been, even under the shade of the cute cat-themed parasol you bought for the two of you at the beach, this boy is still sweating an awful lot, reaching for your somehow cool, pool of melted ice for a cooler, for a pack of apple juice.

"is there... any more left..." your pudding haired boyfriend heaved with a raspy voice, clenching to the crumpled, empty plastic juice packet. you look into the box full of melted ice and wince as you break the news to him that he just drank his last apple juice box. the poor boy whimpers silently as he feels the sweat pool on the back of his shirt, and since you felt bad, you got up and dusted the sand off your lap, your hand extended out to him as the heat starts to get to him.

"a swim...?" he meekly repeats after you, his cheeks flushing with warmth rushing to his face, either from embarrassment or from the intense heat of the sun. you nod as you wait for his answer, with him taking your hand weakly, slowly pulling you closer to him with a smile. "...alright, alright, i'll take a dip in the water... but just a few minutes of cuddles...?" he pleads, his golden almond eyes begging for you to hold him to keep him from falling apart from the sheer ruthlessness of the heat.

HINATA.

hinata isn't usually one to complain about the weather, but with the rise of the past week's temperature, he's been pretty much exhausted every time he goes out; and it's a big bummer, because he so badly wants to take you out on a date and enjoy some sceneries together, go to the beach, have a nice dinner with you... but the heat makes you both too lazy to get out of the house.

he can't emphasize to you how much he wants to go out with you, while being in front of the fan, sweating a storm. you try to reassure him and tell him you two don't have to go out to enjoy each other's company, but your little tangerine wants the best date for you after being abroad for a long while and having to focus on his volleyball career and training months prior.

while your sunshine sulks about not being able to take you out, you scoop up a couple of bowls of ice cream for the two of you, handing one of the bowls to him. you explain to him that, even though you also want to go out with him, you don't need all those fancy outings to be happy with him–you're more than happy sharing some ice cream with him on a hot day.

you have no idea just how happy you made him, because it was like the clouds parted from the sun, and the room got five times warmer with the growth of his shining smile. "y-yeah! i guess i feel the same way too... i mean, all i want is to make you happy, the where doesn't really matter, all that matters to me is your happiness, love." he beams, and though you try to warn him his ice cream will melt, he doesn't mind, because his ice cream will stay sweet no matter how melty it'll get; for now, all he wants to focus on is you and how adorable you look eating up your ice cream... maybe hoping to feed you some on your spoon.

SUNA.

your boyfriend suna is usually calm, cool, and collected; making it hard for you to know what it is he wants or is feeling. but the nasty highs the temperature outside is reaching brings out the hidden character of your usually composed boyfriend, though in a manner you wouldn't expect.

it's a no-brainer that the heat can make someone a bit lazy to move their body to get things done, and your boy understands that too much, that he wants you to give yourself a break and cool off for a little bit from your chores at home and suffer from the intense heat.

and how would he get you to do that? by offering the perfect at home date between you two in your room–with a tv show to binge, a closet full of snacks, a minifridge full of cool drinks, and the AC on blast with him and your pillows and stuffed animals waiting for you.

"hey, um..." he calls out to you in his gravelly voice, gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you closer to him. his pale green eyes gazing at you, with neediness in those orbs of his. "i turned on the AC, and since, y'know, that recent show you've wanted to binge just released all episodes available, and the snack bar we have in our room is stacked up... why not take a break from the chores and just chill out with me, babe?" and how could you say no to his desperate pleading face?

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jen-with-a-pen · 6 months ago

Text

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy.

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick.

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth.

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing.

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom.

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it.

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

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lee-laurent · 4 months ago

Text

All Wrong - Luke Hughes

Summary: Jack needs some help from Sadie, but Sadie finds another Hughes brother much more interesting.

content: fluff, angst, fake dating, kissing, making out, teasing, dirty jokes, underage drinking

wc: 11.6k

notes: HERE IT IS! MY LONGEST FIC EVER!!!! enjoy!!

"Sadie, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me. It's just for the summer so she leaves me alone," Jack pleaded from his spot on the girl's couch.

"Just tell her you're not interested or that you have a girlfriend. This seems overboard."

"That won't stop her. Trust me."

"Then why would me being there change that?"

"You're intimidating, Sadie. You'll look at her once and she'll run home like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs."

"Jack..."

"Sadie, please! Didn't you say your parents had been on your ass about having a boyfriend? See this could benefit both of us."

"I-"

"Sadie!" Jack's tone had shifted from being teasing to almost desperate. "You don't get it! This girl... she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. Trust me... I've tried."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, settling further into the couch. "So your brilliant plan involves be pretending to be madly in love with you instead? Egotistical much."

"Shut up. If you're there, she'll see we're serious and she'll back off."

"And you don't think this is going to backfire? Or, I don't know, create a whole mess of awkwardness between us?" Sadie tilted her head, waiting for his response.

"It'll be fine. We're friends, right? We've kissed when we were drunk. We can handle a little fake dating for a few weeks. Plus, the thing with your parents... win-win?"

She sighed, feeling like she was fighting a battle she was gonna lose no matter what. She had mentioned it in passing--how her parents were always asking why she wasn't dating anyone. But this? Fake dating Jack? It sounded like the plot of a rom-com gone wrong.

"I don't know, Jack."

"Look, we'll just keep it simple. I won't make it weird, I promise. We'll hang at the lake house, do the whole 'couple' thing, and by the end of the summer, it's done. You're free. I'm free. And maybe we can get a few laughs out of it."

It sounded insane. Jack was her friend--her close friend--and she could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to say yes.

"You really think this will work?"

"Trust me. She'll be running away by the end of the first week."

With a heavy sigh, she finally nodded. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me."

"Deal! I owe you big time! But you won't regret this, Sades. It's going to be great!"

She wasn't so sure. It felt so much more complicated than Jack was letting on.

A couple weeks later, Sadie found herself standing on the driveway of the Hughes' lake house. She was standing next to Jack, picking at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. She genuinely felt like she could puke.

"Relax, Sadie," Jack grinned, holding their suitcases. "It's gonna be great."

She narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond. His grin didn't falter, and he motioned with his head for her to walk toward the house. The second her foot hit the first step, the door flew open and Ellen came out with a smile on her face. A smile scarily similar to Jack's.

"You must be Sadie! It's so nice to meet you," she said warmly, wrapping the 21-year-old in a tight hug.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's me," Sadie stammered, trying to return the hug without looking too awkward. It was one thing to pretend around Jack and whoever this scary neighbour girl was, but in front of his family was a whole other can of worms. It felt so much more real.

"We're so excited to have you here! Jack never stops talking about you."

"Doesn't he?" Sadie smirked, turning around to glance at her 'boyfriend' who was pretending he couldn't hear the conversation.

Before she could ask anymore, Ellen was leading her into the home with a hand on her back. "Come in! I'm just finishing getting dinner ready, and the rest of the family should be here soon. Quinn and Jim were picking Luke up from school, so the three of them will be here around 9."

"Moose's coming?" Jack piped up, dropping their bags on the floor. "I thought he wasn't gonna make it this year."

"Changed his mind last minute. We'll all be together," Ellen grinned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"I'm gonna show Sadie around upstairs, we'll be back down for dinner in like ten minutes."

"Sounds good. I left some fresh towels for you on Jack's bed."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No worries. You two go get settled."

Sadie followed Jack up the creaky wooden stairs, her mind still spinning from meeting Ellen. Everything about the situation felt real. Too real. Way, way too real.

"Your mom is... intense," she muttered, walking into the hallway as Jack pushed open the door to the room they'd be sharing for the summer.

"Yeah, well, that's Mom for you. She loves you already," Jack grinned, throwing himself onto the bed. He stretched out, folding his arms behind his head as if he was relaxed as ever. Like they weren't lying to his entire family.

Sadie sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed, scanning the room. It was cozy. A few posters on the walls, hockey-themed of course, and an old wooden dresser in the corner. The window overlooked the lake and Sadie thought she could fall in love with the idea of living here for the summer pretty quickly.

"So, we're sharing this bed, I take it?" she raised an eyebrow.

Jack chuckled, patting the matress next to him. "Come on, Sades. We're dating, remember? Gotta sell it."

She rolled her eyes, scooting up to sit next to Jack. "Just remember this is fake. No funny business, Hughes."

"I know, I know. Jeez. I already told you, I'm not gonna make it weird. Just for the summer. Then we're free."

She shook her head, already regretting everything. She had agreed to the plan, but now that she was there, standing in their home, sharing a bed--it all felt too close for comfort.

"Speaking of Luke. You didn't mention that your brothers were gonna be here."

"They're chill. Don't stress. Moose has been busy with shit at Umich and Quinn in Vancouver. They'll just be happy to relax. Plus, they don't usually care about talking girls and stuff. So they won't grill you. If anything, they'll give me shit for dating someone so out of my league."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Jack."

Jack snickered, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed she was on. He leaned down, his tone teasing. "Come on, Sades. Let's go down and eat dinner like a happy couple."

"You're so fucking annoying."

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. Ellen had a special way of making everything seem casual and lighthearted. Jack, of course, had been his usual... charming self, playing the role of the perfect doting boyfriend. He was good at it, touching her back lightly, pulling her chair out for her, and even dropping the occasional kiss on the top of her head.

It should've made her cringe, but instead she found it... comforting?

Ellen had asked the usual 'parent' questions--how they met, what Sadie was studying, if she liked hockey (which of course she had to answer yes to, knowing full well the consequences of not liking hockey in the Hughes household). Sadie played along, forcing herself to laugh at Jack's shit jokes and add details to the story they'd created on the drive up.

"Jack, why don't you take Sadie down to the dock and watch the sunset over the lake" Ellen suggested, clearing the table of plates. "It's beautiful tonight."

"Good idea, Mom," Jack agreed, standing up and taking Sadie's hand with a grin.

"Sure, sounds nice," Sadie forced a smile, trying not to feel awkward holding Jack's hand in front of his mother.

They walked out towards the dock, the cool air helping lift the weight of the day away. The lake stretched out before them, the water reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sunset. Sadie loved scenes like that. They brought her so much peace.

"You're doing great, by the way, Sadie."

She snorted, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I feel like I'm in some weird improv exercise. Just waiting for someone to figure out I don't belong here."

"They're not going to figure anything out," he whispered. "You've got this."

Lying to his family felt wrong, even if it was supposed to be for a good cause. Or at least a cause that Jack thought was good.

"This is going to be a very draining summer," she sighed.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"No, I need to stay up and meet your brothers and your dad."

"They'll still be here in the morning, Sades. If you want to go to sleep, nobody is gonna stop you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come on. Let's get you some sleep."

"Who's shoes are those?" Luke asked, closing the front door behind him.

"Jack's girlfriend's! You just missed her, she went to sleep about half an hour ago," Ellen smiled, pulling her youngest son into a hug.

"His girlfriend?"

"Yes! Sadie is her name. Such a nice girl. Very pretty too."

Luke looked back down at the shoes again, his mind still trying to catch up with what his mom was saying. Jack's girlfriend? The words felt so unfamiliar. Jack didn't talk about dating much, at least not in a serious way, so hearing about Sadie--a girl he apparently cared enough about to bring home--caught him so off guard.

"Yeah. Jack didn't mention much about her."

"He didn't? Oh, well, you'll meet her in the morning," she reached up to ruffle his hair, like he was still a little kid playing chase around the house with his brothers. "She's lovely. A little shy at first, but I'll sure she'll warm up to everyone. Probably just worried about making a good first impression."

Luke nodded, but inside his curiousity was growing. Shy? He hadn't heard Jack describe anyone as shy in, well, ever. Jack's type was the total opposite--bold, confident, the kind of girl that could hang with his rowdy ass friends without missing a beat. This Sadie girl was starting to sound a lot different than that.

"Well, let's get you boys fed before we all call it a night," Jim said, patting Luke's shoulder as he passed. "Your mom saved us some leftovers from dinner."

Luke followed his dad and Quinn into the kitchen, but his thoughts were still on the mysterious girl that had apparently stolen his brother's heart. Jack had never even mentioned a Sadie before and suddenly she was at the lake house. It all felt off.

Sadie woke up feeling as sweaty as ever. The house had AC but Jack was like a personal heater and somehow they'd ended up spooning at some point in the night. There was a thin layer of sweat between her back and Jack's chest and she felt disgusting.

Groaning quietly, she pulled herself out of his grip, using her shirt to wipe her back. Jack was still fast asleep, the duvet kicked around his feet. Typical. Jack could sleep through a fucking earthquake.

She swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water would make her feel more like herself. She thought about what Jack had said last night--about how nobody would figure them out. But staring at herself in the mirror, she felt like it was written all over her face.

She didn't belong here.

She threw on the first clothes she could find, a pair of jean shorts and one of Jack's many Devils t-shirts. By the time she made her way downstairs, the kitchen was already bustling. Ellen was preparing breakfast while Jim sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Sadie! Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," she forced a smile.

"Jack still asleep?"

"Out cold."

Ellen chuckled, shaking her head. "Sounds about right."

Sadie smiled, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned just as Luke appeared in the doorway, fresh from a morning run, judging the sweat on his forehead and the way his grey shirt clung to his torso.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Luke's eyes landed on her, sharp and curious. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was sizing her up--not in a rude way, but in a way that made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

"You must be Sadie," he made his way further into the kitchen. "I'm Luke."

"Yeah," she extended her hand to him. "Nice to meet you."

Luke shook her head, his grip firm but brief. His blue eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than she expected before he pulled away, glancing towards the coffeemaker.

"You're the one who got Jack all domestic?" he teased, grabbing a mug. "Didn't see that coming."

She laughed softly, "I don't know about 'domestic,' but... I guess I'm the one who convinced him to bring me here."

Luke smirked, like he wasn't entirely buying it. "Yeah. I guess."

Sadie got cut off again, but this time by Quinn entering the room. "Ah, so this is the famous Sadie! Nice to finally put a face to the name."

Thank God for Quinn.

Sadie sat on the dock, her feet dangling over the water, her book open on her lap. Jack and Quinn had gone to get the boat from the marina and Sadie had taken the opportunity to relax a bit.

She had laid a towel under her, Jack's t-shirt removed because she was not about to get a farmer's tan. She was basking in the sun, feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on her extremely pale skin. The world around her disappearing as she flipped through the novel. She was really enjoying it until she came to a parapgraph about suspicion. It took her right back to her interaction with Luke that morning. It was like he saw right through her, could sense all the cracks in her story. She had to be careful, maybe Luke was smarter than he seemed.

But footsteps on the dock behind her broke her train of thought. She glanced over her should, expecting to see that either Jack or Quinn had returned with the car from the marina, but it was Luke. He wasn't in the workout clothes he'd been wearing earlier, now dressed in a white t-shirt and board shorts, clearly ready for a swim.

"You mind if I join?" Luke asked, the same playful charm in his voice that Jack carried.

"Sure, it's your family's dock after all."

Luke smirked, dropping a towel beside her before sitting down, his legs also hanging over the water. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stared out over the water. Sadie went back to reading, well now she was pretending to read, her main focus being on how closely he was sitting next to her.

"So," he broke the silence. "How'd you and Jack meet?"

There it was--more lying about her and Jack. Sadie knew Luke was already suspicious of her, so she had to play her cards right. She looked up from her book, trying to keep her body language calm. "Friends. Some of his, uh, his friends go to school with me. So..."

"Friends, huh?" He was testing her, waiting for her to trip up.

"Yeah, like slow burn," she shrugged. "We hung out with a big group of friends first. You know how it goes."

Luke was silent for a moment, staring down at the waves lapping the dock. "Yeah, I guess, I do. Jack's never mentioned you before."

Sadie felt her stomach lurch, but she forced a smile. "Well, we kept things on the down-low for a while. Just us. It's still... kinda new."

"Makes sense," Luke's tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the lake again. "Just seems strange, I guess. Jack never brings girls here. And then... suddenly, you."

"I guess I'm just lucky," she swallowed harshly.

For a moment, she thought he might say something else--might press her further--but instead, he stood up and grabbed his towel.

"I'll leave you to it. Nice talking, Sadie," he walked off, completely disregarding the fact that he had clearly come out to swim. She just watched him retreat. It was clear he didn't trust her, hopefully Jack could fix that. She didn't need him figuring anything out before the trip was over. That was certain.

The sound of the boat engine humming across the water was the perfect background noise on a sunny afternoon. Sadie sat on the edge, occasionally letting her fingers trail through the lake below. Jack was steering them out to the centre of the water, Quinn sat up front basking in the sun, and Luke leaned casually against the small railing on the side.

"You ever driven one of these?" Luke asked, nodding towards the steering wheel.

Sadie looked over to Jack, who was too busy concentrating on his driving to respond. She smirked, "Jack never lets anyone take the wheel. He likes to be in control."

Quinn laughed, "Sounds about right. Captain Jack, over here. Watch out Sadie or he might start asking you to call him that."

"Don't give him any ideas," she groaned, flicking her gaze back to Jack. She really hoped that the banter seemed real and not forced.

"You love it, Sades! You're just mad because you can't even drive a car for shit."

"Hey! You've never given me a chance on a boat," she shot back, standing up and making her way to Jack.

"I think I have a good reason."

Sadie placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer as she laughed. It felt so strange to have to be so physically close to Jack on purpose, but she was learning to fake it well. "Maybe I'll surprise you one day."

Quinn chuckled, "Honestly, Rowdy, give her a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She crashes into the dock?" Jack raised an eyebrow, still smirking, one of his hands casually finding it's way around Sadie's bare waist. She stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed quickly after reminding herself to play the part.

"I'm more worried about you crashing into the dock," Sadie shot back.

Luke, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal, cracked a grin. "She's probably better at steering than you think, Jack. You're just a control freak."

Sadie stole a glance, glad to see Luke was no longer sending any weird looks her way.

"Alright, fine," Jack sighed, turning the wheel just slightly to change course. "Maybe I'll let you drive next time. If you're lucky."

Quinn snorted, "If she's lucky? You mean if she gives you head?"

Sadie's jaw dropped, but all three Hughes brothers started laughing like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. God, she'd never understand men.

The boat had been anchored and Sadie sat with Jack near the edge. Luke and Quinn were busy talking about who could pull off a better dive, leaving the 'couple' alone.

Sadie lowered her voice, looking around to see if the other boys were listening. "Jack, I think Luke is catching on."

"Catching on? What're you talking about?"

Sadie sighed. "Earlier today, he was asking me all these questions. It felt like he was suspicious. Like he knows this whole thing is all an act."

Jack chuckled, knocking his shoulder with hers. "Sades, he's just messing with you. Trust me, he's not suspicious of anything. That's just how he is. He's probably giving you a hard time because he knows it'll get under your skin."

She bit her lip, not fully convinced. "I don't know... I don't want him to say something to your parents or--"

"Relax," he softly grabbed her hand. "It's going fine. They all like you, and no one is doubting anything. Promise."

Sadie looked around again, but Quinn and Luke were now splashing each other in the water. "I guess you're right. I'm probably just overthinking shit."

"Exactly. Now, where's the Sadie I know? I'm not a fan of this anxious, worrywart. Where's the flirty, confident, almost scary Sadie that I became friends with?"

She just shook her head, a real smile making its way across her face. Jack leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. "Come on, Sades. Let's make the most of this. Summer is supposed to be funnnn."

"Okay," she giggled. "Let's have some fun."

She quickly stood up and cannon-balled into the lake. Luke and Quinn cheered her on, as Jack shook his head and laughed. "There's my girl!"

Sadie, Jack, Luke, and Quinn sat on deck chairs around the firepit, drinks in hand. It had been a long day spent out on the water, but the fun wasn't over just yet. The laughter was now coming even easier than before with the addition of alcohol.

Sadie leaned heavily into Jack's side, his arm draped over her shoulders, her head resting on him. She finally felt like herself, carefree. Jack's closeness didn't feel awkward anymore; it felt natural, or maybe that was just the alcohol.

"Alright, Sadie," Quinn said, his speech slurred slightly. "I gotta know what it's like dating Jack? He's gotta be a pain in the ass."

"Oh, you have no idea," she teased. "He thinks he's funny. Most of the time, he's just annoying."

Jack gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his free hand. "Wow. You wound me, Sades. I'm hilarious."

"Debatable," she quipped, running her fingers along the seam of his shirt as she settled against him more comfortably.

"Okay, but for real," Luke piped up, "how'd you two even get together? I don't think Jack has ever brought a girl here."

She glanced at Jack, who winked at her before answering.

"It just happened, I guess. We were hanging out with a group of friends, like I told you guys, and then one day... I just knew she was the one for me."

"Oh, you knew, huh? That's not how I remember it," Sadie giggled.

"What's your version, Sadie?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Jack was chasing after me for months, trying to get me to go out with him. I was playing hard to get."

Jack cackled, "That's not how it went."

"It's exactly how it went," she shot back, her voice full of confidence. "He practically begged me to go on a date with him."

Luke and Quinn were in stitches, the banter between her and Jack clearly entertaining them. Sadie felt so much more like herself. The earlier tension she felt from Luke's questions had melted away with the first sip of vodka.

Just as Sadie was about to make another joke at Jack's expense, the sound of footsteps cruncing against gravel caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see a figure making their toward them. Sadie tensed.

It had to be that neighbour girl that Jack had warned her about. The whole reason this shit was happening.

The girl strutted up to the firepit, her eyes locking on Jack like he was the only person there. She didn't even acknowledge Sadie's presence, instead giving Jack a flirtatious smile as she drew closer.

"Well, well," her tone was sugary sweet. "Didn't know you were back in town, Jack."

Sadie felt Jack also tense beside her, but he didn't move his arm from her shoulders. He smiled politely, but there was no mistaking the discomfort in his eyes. "Yes, Natalie, we're here every summer."

The girl, Natalie, flicked her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's been a while. You should come over sometime. We could... catch up."

Sadie could tell from the girl's body language that she wasn't taking no for an answer. Natalie's obvious attempt to flirt with Jack was so blatant, it was almost laughable. It would've been laughable if it wasn't so goddamn irritating.

Luke and Quinn exchanged amused glances.

Sadie straightened up, pushing her body closer to Jack's. "He's a little busy right now," Sadie's voice was low but firm.

"Oh, I'm sure Jack can make time. Can't you, Jacky?"

Sadie's blood boiled. Natalie wasn't getting the message. She glanced at Jack, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, then made a quick decision. Without hesitation, Sadie reached up, grabbed Jack's face in both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. Not a soft, delicate one, but a full-on, heated make out session that left no room for misinterpretation. She was making sure that everyone knew who Jack belonged to.

Jack responded immediately, his hands moving to rest on her waist as he kicked her back, clearly caught up in the moment. It was all part of the act, but Sadie could feel the passion in it, the alcohol blurring the line between fake and real.

When she pulled away, breathless and bright red, she didn't even look at Jack. She instead kept her gaze locked on Natalie, who was staring at them in stunned silence.

"Like I said," Sadie's voice was full of cool confidence, "he's busy."

Natalie's face twisted into a scowl, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She shot Jack and Sadie one last frustrated look before scoffing and turning on her heel, storming off into the night like a child throwing a tantrum.

Quinn let out a low whistle. "Damn, Sadie. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"That was brutal," Luke agreed.

She shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "She wasn't getting it. Had to make it clear."

Jack, still recovering from the intensity of the kiss, grinned down at her. "You sure did."

The room spun slightly as Sadie fumbled with the zipper on her shorts, still giggling about how the night had unfolded. Jack leaned against the door, watching her with a lazy grin, the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

"That kiss though," Jack teased, his voice slurred as he kicked off his shoes. "You really sold it, Sades. I think you scared Natalie away for life."

"Good," she smirked, peeling off her shorts and tossing them aside, not bothering with modesty. She started tugging her t-shirt over her head. "She wasn't getting the hint. Had to go for the kill."

Jack's eyes flickered to her as she changed, the casualness of it all catching him off guard. He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as he tried not to stare. Sadie, half-naked, standing there like it was nothing--it was making his head spin even more than it already was.

He blinked, knowing he shouldn't have been distracted like that, especially when they were just playing pretend. But Sadie didn't seem to notice nor care. She was sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair, her laughter replaced by a serious expression.

"Jack. I was actually really nervous... earlier. With meeting your parents, then Luke asking all those questions, and then fucking Natalie showed up."

Jack shook off his drunken haze. He sat down beside her, trying to focus on her words and the fact that her skin was glowing under the light in the room. "Nervous? You seemed to have it under control out there."

"I was faking. Well, partly. Thought maybe Luke's questions about us were to find holes or that Quinn was part of his plan."

"Sades, I'm not sure how many times I have to tell you. Nobody is suspicious."

"I just didn't want to mess this up for you. The whole fake dating thing--it's for you, and I didn't want to fuck it all up by being... weird."

"You weren't weird. You were amazing. And that kiss? I think you might have convinced me we're really dating."

"So... no one's doubting?"

Jack shook his head, his hand brushing gently against her back. "Nope. That kiss probably wiped away any doubts that Quinn or Luke might've had. You sold it. Hell, I think Luke might've been jealous."

She smirked at the thought, "Yeah? Jealous, huh?"

Jack grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "Definitely. You've got nothing to worry about now. We've got this."

There was a quiet moment between them. The alcohol buzz still hanging in the air, but it was softer now, replaced by something warmer, more intimate. Jack's hand slid up to her shoulder, his touch gentle as he pulled her closer.

"I'm really glad you're here."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "Me too."

They lay back on the bed, neither bothering to change further. Jack's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side as she snuggled against him. The steady rise and fall of Jack's chest beneath her cheek, lulling her to sleep.

Jack and Quinn were gone for the day, some sort of offseason training session by some bigshot NHL personal trainer. The guy hadn't invited Luke, so he was stuck at the house with Sadie and his parents.

Sadie was stretched out on a towel in the backyard, basking in the sunshine, her earbuds playing some soft country music. She was enjoying her peaceful solitude.

Or so she thought.

When she turned her head slightly to adjust her sunglasses, she caught a glimpse of Luke standing on the back porch. He was leaning against the railing, looking right at her. His eyes flickered away as soon as she spotted him, but it was too late. Sadie had seen him staring.

A mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

Caught you.

Deciding to have a little fun with it, Sadie flipped onto her front, resting her chin on her folded arms. Then, with a playful smirk, she reached behind her and undid the knot on her bikini top, letting it fall loose against the towel beneath her. Luke couldn't actually see shit, but she thought it was hilarious to tease him.

After a few beats of silence, Sadie couldn't help but sneak a peek in his direction. Luke was still on the porch, but his posture was tense, clearly flustered. His eyes darted between her and the lake, like he wasn't sure where to look.

She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Oh, this is too good.

Satisfied with the teasing, she casually rolled back onto her back and retyed her top like nothing had happened. Then she stood up, grabbing her book and towel, she sauntered back inside with a smirk tugging at her lips. She didn't need to look back to know there were still a set of blue eyes staring at her.

Luke wandered into the living room, hesitating briefly at the door before walking to Sadie on the couch. His hair was still slightly damp from a dip in the lake, and he seemed almost more relaxed without Jack and Quinn there.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"

"Go for it," she replied, looking up from her book. She shifted over to make space for him.

Luke sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in an attempt to look casual. It didn't work and Sadie could still feel the tension in the air. She knew Luke was flustered about the whole backyard situation and she found it fucking hilarious.

"You're always reading," he remarked, nodding towards the book in her hands. "What is it this time?"

She raised an eyebrow and flipped the book around so he could see the cover. "I'm not 'always' reading. You've caught me reading twice. And it's just something to kill time. You know, since your brother is off pretending he's a celebrity."

"Yeah, Jack's like that. Always pretending he's the best," Luke chose to ignore her remark about him only seeing her reading twice.

"Must've been annoying growing up with him," Sadie teased.

"Oh, it was. But he's alright. Could've been worse."

The conversation continued easily from there, their voices filling the silent house with stories about their childhoods, embarrassing moments, and life in general. Luke found himself relaxing more and more as Sadie talked. She was sharp, funny, and this special energy that drew him in. The confident, teasing girl from the backyard was showing her soft side and he could see why Jack was head over heels in love with her,

Sadie yapped about her life in university, the friends she had back home in Jersey, and even some wild stories from a girls' trip to New York. Luke listened, hanging off of every word. She was cool, and not in a superficial way, but genuinely cool. She wasn't just Jack's girlfriend. She was Sadie. And she was amazing.

But with that realization came guilt.

He watched her laugh as she told a funny story, and Luke felt the pull growing inside him. He was really starting to like her. Maybe too much.

This was Jack's girlfriend. He shouldn't feel that way about Jack's girlfriend.

He knew it was wrong, but he made no effort to distance himself from her. Instead, he found himself drawn to her more and more, wanting to sit there with her, to hear her laugh again, to see the smirk that covered her face when she teased him.

"So, how about you?" she asked, snapping him from this thoughts. "What's it like being the baby? Bet Jack gave you hell."

"They both did. But especially Jack. He never, ever let me forget I was the youngest. Always had to one-up me."

"Sounds like Jack," she grinned, and Luke's smile faltered at the lovestruck look on her face at the meer mention of Jack. "Bet you're giving it right back now."

"I try." There was a brief lull in conversation and the silence that followed felt like it was charged with electricity.

Sadie held his gaze a beat longer than she should have before breaking the eye contact with a playful smile. "Well, if you ever need any tips on how to outsmart Jack, I've got plenty."

"I might just have to take you up on that."

The sun lay low in the late afternoon sky making the lake look like it was sparkling. Sadie and Luke stood by the water's edge, still filling in the quiet hours without Jack and Quinn.

Sadie grinned, nudging Luke with her elbow. "Bet you can't beat me in a water fight."

"You're on."

Without warning, Sadie walked off into the water, her laugh echoing as she turned around to splash Luke. He barely had time to react before a wave of water was hitting his lower legs.

"Oh, it's like that?" Luke laughed, taking off after her.

It didn't take long before they were having a full-on war, splashing each other mercilessly. Sadie couldn't stop laughing as Luke chased her through the water. After on particularly good splash, she tried to swim away, but Luke caught up to her, his hands gripping her waist as he tried to dunk her. Sadie squealed in protest, kicking her legs.

"Let go, you cheater!" she giggled, twisting in his grip.

Luke grinned, he really liked how infectous her laugh was. But as they wrestled in the water, something shifted. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should have. Her skin was riddled in goosebumps from the cold water, but still felt smooth under this touch, and suddenly the playful moment didn't seem quite as innocent.

Shit.

Sadie, still in the middle of laughing and trying to escape his hold, didn't seem to notice the change in him. She was completely carefree, seeing the moment for what it was--a game. But Luke wasn't feeling it anymore. His throat felt tight and pulse picked up.

His hands were still on her waist.

Luke's breath hitched, and before she could turn around and see the look on his face, he let go, stumbling backward in the water.

"You good? You're not giving up already, are you?"

Luke forced a chuckle, but it came out sounding way more like a cough. "Uh, yeah, I--uh, I think I've had enough."

Without waiting for her response, he quickly waded out of the water and back onto the shore. The evening breeze did nothing to cool his flustered state.

Sadie was still in the water, floating on her back with a smile on her face. "Aw, come on!"

He just mumbled something incoherent, grabbed his towel, and hurried back into the house without even looking her way.

Luke rushed past his parents in the kitchen, heading straight for his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and flopped down onto the bed, shoving his face in a pillow. He wanted to scream, but even the pillow wouldn't muffle the sound enough from anyone downstairs.

I'm attracted to her.

The thought hit him like a freight train, the words echoing over and over again like a prayer. It wasn't just some innocent crush. He was undeniably, painfully attracted to Sadie--his brother's girlfriend.

How had he let it get this far? She was dating Jack. She was Jack's girlfriend. And yet, anytime she laughed or smiled at him, Luke felt like a fucking high schooler.

He couldn't stop it, couldn't ignore it anymore.

He hadn't meant to hold her like that in the water. It was meant to be just a harmless game, but he had taken it too far in his mind. Sadie, however, hadn't even seemed to notice. Maybe she did and she was just ignoring it. Surely that was it.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Luke," he cursed himself, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was how perfect she had looked in that moment.

The worst part of all? He didn't want to stop feeling that way.

Even as the guilt knawed at him, he couldn't bring himself to want to distance from her. Being around Sadie felt good. It felt natural. And that scared him even more.

Suddenly, he heard laughter from the hallway outside his door. Luke froze, listening as Jack's voice joined in, low and teasing, followed by Sadie's giggles.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the guilt. But then there was a pause in the laughter. He could picture what was happening. The way that Jack was looking at Sadie. The that Sadie was looking back up at Jack with a smile on her face, maybe teasing him.

Then... the sound of a kiss broke the silence. It was soft, but it might as well have been the loudest thing that Luke had ever heard. His stomach twisted, and he tried to shove his face further into the pillow, but it was no use the couple was back to laughing.

This is wrong. It's all wrong. But as wrong as he knew it was, he couldn't deny the truth.

He was falling for Sadie. And he was falling for Sadie... hard.

The whole family and Sadie were gathered around the pool table, Jim and Ellen watching from the corner, while the "kids" took their turns at the competetive game that had started.

Sadie was standing next to Jack, leaning against the wall with a gin and tonic, that her "boyfriend" had made her, in her hand. She was watching Quinn line up his shot, her eyes crinkling as she laughed about whatever it was that Jack was whispering to her about. Jack had his arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her closer as she laughed. They looked so comfortable. So perfect.

Luke stood across from them, gripping his pool cue so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Every laugh that Jack and Sadie shared, every playful nudge, felt like a stab to his gut.

"Alright, Sades, your go," Jack kissed her cheek before handing her a cue.

She leaned over the table, lining up her shot with Jack standing behind her, offering a few "helpful" tips. His hand rested on her lower back, guiding her aim. Quinn looked over at Luke, raising his eyebrows as if to say "look how suggestive he's being."

Luke just shook his head, trying to focus on the game. But all he could think about was how close and touchy they were being. And how it made his stomach churn with something that he could only guess was jealousy.

Fuck, it was so messed up.

"Luke, it's your turn," Quinn called.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," he blinked, shaking his head. He stepped up to the table, trying to compose himself as he lined up his shot. He missed it by a mile, the ball ricocheting off the side with a loud thunk.

"Wow, nice one, Rusty," Jack teased.

His jaw was clenched, "Guess I'm just off tonight."

Sadie didn't even notice, giggling as Jack asked for her opinion on their next move. Why were they acting like they were the only ones in the room? Was nobody else finding it annoying? Luke glanced at his mom. She was smiling at the young couple, a lovestruck look on her face. Maybe he was the only one that found it annoying.

Sadie lay sprawled across Jack's bed, her phone held loosely in her hand as she scrolled through texts from her friends back home. Jack was in the shower, insisting he wash the lake water off his body. She had some time to kill and her friends, that weren't her friend group with Jack, were ready to gossip.

The Hottest Girls in Jersey Sadie, Alex, and Carly

Carly: Soooo, how's it going with Mr. NHL?? Alex: yeah, girl. spill. is he, like, actually boyfriend material or are you just having a hot ass summer fling??

Sadie rolled her eyes at their messages, biting her lip as she thought of her reply.

Sadie: it's... complicated Carly: Ugh, isn't it always lol Alex: we need details, sades. what's complicated? the sex? the family? Sadie: family's cool. his mom is like super sweet. and his brothers are... yeah Carly: Oh, brothers, huh? Now you like reallyyyyy need to spill

Sadie hesitated, glancing towards the bathroom door. She could still hear Jack humming to himself while the water ran. No way he was gonna come out and read her messages any time soon.

Sadie: okay, fine. it's not really jack. it's luke Carly: LUKE?! Alex: WAIT. WHAT. HIS BROTHER LUKE?! Sadie: yep. younger brother, but soooooo much more my type Carly: Girllllll, you're bad Alex: hold the fucking phone. is this the guy we're talking about here? what's wrong with jack, then? isn't he like the only reason you're there?

She chuckled to herself, it did kinda sound insane when she typed it all out.

Sadie: jack's great. don't get me wrong. but, luke... he's like more quiet. jack's more playful and sassy, but idk... plus i love a boy with curly hair Carly: You're catching feelings for his brother??? Holy shit, girl Alex: lmao this is legit some CW ass drama

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, but it was true. Luke was more her type. He was tall, not that Jack wasn't tall, but Luke was tall. He had the cutest nose and the best curls she'd ever seen. Jack was fun. Jack was easy. But Luke...

Sadie: it's not that deep. but yeah, ig i'm more into luke than jack Carly: Oooo Alex: you're fake dating jack tho, right? like what's the plan here?? Sadie: i don't fucking know!!! nothing's happened with luke, obviously. but like next time we're alone? i might see what happens ;) Carly: You are fucking INSANE, Sadie!!! Alex: if you're that desperate, you've got Jack right there...

She laughed out loud at Alex's message. She was definitely not desperate, but she still glanced to the bathroom door. The water had stopped. Jack would be out any second.

Sadie: trust me, i'm not desperate. luke's gonna be the move

Just as she hit send, Jack emerged from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips.

"Texting the girls?" he ran a hand through his wet hair.

She slipped her phone under the pillow, a playful smile on her face. "Yeah, they were asking about you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, falling down onto the bed next to her. "All good things, I hope?"

She snorted, "Guess you'll never know."

He rolled his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Whatever. You were probably telling them how much of a stud I am."

Sadie smirked, though her mind was still buzzing with the excitement of what she'd just admitted to her friends. Jack had no idea, and honestly? That just made it even more thrilling.

Jack bounded into the living room, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. Sadie was sat on the couch, scrolling passively through Instagram, while Luke stood in the kitchen chugging a glass of water.

"I'm headed to the rink for a few hours," Jack announced, slapping his hand on the back of the couch, full of energy. "Got a little off-season workout with Q and some of the guys."

"A workout?" Sadie quirked an eyebrow. "You never stop, do you?

"That's what makes me so irrresistible, babe." He shot her a wink before turning to Luke. "You busy?"

Luke wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, setting down his glass. "Not really."

"Why don't you keep her company? You guys should hang out. Show her around town or something."

Luke flushed, his eyes flickering to Sadie, who was sat with an amused smile on her face. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Perfect!" Jack leaned down and kissed Sadie's cheek. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try," she giggled, leaning into his touch but keeping her eyes on Luke.

"See you later! Have fun!"

And just like that Jack was gone.

"Well, looks like it's just us again," Sadie said, stretching dramatically.

"Yeah, guess so."

Sadie stood from the couch, tapping her finger against her lips as if she was thinking. "You know what we should do?"

"What?"

"Go for a swim! It's hot out, and the lake looks amazing."

Luke hesitated. He wasn't sure he could handle that again. But before he could come up with an excuse, Sadie was heading toward the back door.

"Come on! Don't make me swim alone. I might drown."

By the time he made it down to the dock, Sadie was standing at the edge, her back to him as she looked out over the water. She had stripped down to her bikini--a simple black one that fit her like a glove.

Luke shook his head. He had no right to stare. Jack's girlfriend, not his. Get a grip.

"Took you long enough, Luke. Thought you were going to bail on me."

"Just... taking my time." He managed a weak laugh.

"Uh-huh." She dipped her toe in the lake, testing the temperature. "Water feels amazing. Bet I can beat you in."

She dove in without even waiting for an answer. She resurfced a few feet out, shaking the water from her hair and grinning at him. "What're you waiting for?"

Luke hesitated for just a second longer before diving in after her. The shock of the cool water cleared his head. That was until he surfaced and saw Sadie floating nearby, her hair splayed around her like a halo.

"See? Told you it feels amazing."

He swam a bit closer, but decided to keep his distance. "Yeah, guess you were right."

Sadie flipped onto her stomach, treading water as she swam to him. "Relax." She nudged her shoulder with his. "You look so tense."

Her tone was light, but the promixity of them felt almost dangerous. "I am relaxed."

"Bullshit. You look like the tensest motherfucker ever," she splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. "Come on. Loosen up."

Luke sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes. "Oh, it's gonna be like that, huh?"

"Just sayin'... life's too short to be serious all the time," her hand brushed his arm as she floated by, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, casual, but it still made it so he couldn't think straight. He wanted to keep his distance, but she wasn't making it easy in the slightest.

"You and I should do this more often," she mused.

"What? Swim?"

She scoffed, "No. Hang out."

Was she messing with him? Or was she being serious? He couldn't tell with her. Her teasing had been light and innocent until now. Now every word that left her mouth felt like it had a second meaning.

"I... I don't know."

What kind of shit response was that? God, he looked like an idiot.

She swam closer to him, stopping when she was right in front of his face. "You don't know? I think you do, Luke."

He could feel her leg brushing against his and his whole body felt like it was one fire despite the cool water. He should've pulled back, but he couldn't. He was frozen.

"Ha! You're cute when you're flustered."

For a moment, he felt himself lean in, as if there was an invisible force pulling him to her. But just as quickly, Sadie pulled away, climbing back onto the dock and swaying her hips as she headed back to the house, leaving the boy completely flabbergasted.

Jim and Ellen had left for a special dinner out and Jack had quickly suggested a game night, complete with alcohol and whatever games they could find in the basement. Luke had agreed, only because he knew he could drink, and that might make being in the same room as Sadie more bearable.

"Alright, team," Jack tossed a can of beer to Luke, who caught it without looking "Game night is on. Hope you're ready to lose, Qball."

"Yeah, yeah. You always say that, but I'm the one who wins."

"You guys don't stand a chance. Right, babe?" Sadie grinned up at Jack.

"You bet. Dream team right here."

Luke looked at them, all snuggled up together. He blinked a few times before chugging the rest of his beer. Jack laughed, "Alright, Lukey." He tossed him another one, getting ready to explain the rules of the game.

By the third round, Jack had pulled Sadie into his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist like a seatbelt. They were laughing, whispering inside jokes, and exchanging kisses, acting like they were the only people in the room.

Luke tried to focus on the game, but he found himself looking up to see Sadie running her fingers through Jack's hair, her other hand squeezing his thigh.

He wanted to believe that she had meant something by the little act she'd put on at the lake. But seeing her all over Jack made him feel like he'd never been so wrong. She was clearly into Jack. She didn't mean anything by it. She's just... being friendly.

So why did it feel like more?

"Can you guys like chill?" Quinn spoke up. "We're trying to play a game, not watch you two make out."

"Oh, come on, Quinn. We're just having fun," Sadie giggled.

"Yeah, don't be a buzzkill," Jack added, pressing kisses to her neck.

"There's having fun, and then there's..." Quinn paused, his voice laced with annoyance. "You're practically having sex in front of us."

"Jealous?"

"No, Luke and I just don't wanna see that."

"Whatever."

"Your turn, Luke."

"Right," he muttered, grabbing the dice and rolling it halfheartedly. The alcohol wasn't helping, dulling his senses and making everything worse. He kept glancing at Sadie, hoping for some sign that she was aware of what she was doing to him, but she didn't even look his way.

The final straw came when Jack, clearly tipsy, pulled Sadie in for a long, slow kiss right in the middle of Quinn's turn. Jack and Sadie were known by their friends for their drunk kisses, but his brothers really didn't want to see it.

"I'm done. You two aren't even playing!" Quinn threw his hands up.

"Fine, fine. We'll stop! Happy now?"

"No. I'm going to bed before I see something even worse."

"Uh, yeah, me too. Night guys," Luke nodded, following his oldest brother.

"Bedtime?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah, bedtime, I guess."

Luke hadn't gone to bed. He couldn't sleep. His brain wouldn't shut up. It had been a couple hours since game night had ended and he felt more sober than he was before he started drinking. Maybe he was insane. Maybe Sadie had driven him to his breaking point. She was so goddamn confusing. And--

"Hey."

"What're you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Jack?"

She shrugged, closing the sliding door behind her. "He's passed out. I wanted to come find you."

"Sadie, you really shouldn't--"

"I know what you're going to say. But I think you're wrong."

"Wrong?"

Sadie moved in, her hand reaching for his, her fingers tracing along his wrist. "You're overthinking things, Luke."

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her face inches from his, her lips so close he could feel her breath. He should've pulled away. He should've told her to stop.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Instead, Luke closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, longing kiss.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Her touch sent sparks through his body. But those sparks made reality set in.

He pulled away, his chest heaving. "No. This is wrong."

"What?"

"You need to stop," he stood up suddenly, almost making Sadie fall over. His voice was full of anger. "This... this whole thing is fucked up, Sadie. You're Jack's girlfriend."

She stared at him for a second or two before, to Luke's surprise, she started laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Luke snapped. "I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell Jack everything. He needs to know what you've been doing."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jack and I aren't really together."

"What... what do you mean?"

Sadie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's fake. The whole thing--it's just an act."

"An act? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jack needed me to play the part of his girlfriend for the summer," Sadie explained, her tone casual as if everything she was saying was normal. "Natalie, the neighbour girl. She's obsessed with Jack. And she won't take no for answer. So he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend so she'd leave him alone."

"So... this is all fake?"

"Yep. We've just been playing the part, that's all."

"But... you guys... you were kissing. You're all over each other."

Sadie shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. "That... that's just something that happens when we drink. No big deal."

"No big deal? You guys were making out in front of us, and you're saying it doesn't mean anything?"

"Exactly. Jack and I are close friends. That's all it is. No feelings involved," her tone was so matter-of-fact it made Luke's stomach churn. "All for show. We figured the more real it looks, the less people will question it."

"So... you don't have feelings for him?"

"For Jack? No. We're friends. Nothing more. We've been friends since he joined the Devils. And yeah, we get a bit... affectionate when we drink. But it's never been serious."

"Then why... why were you flirting with me?"

"Because, Luke... you're the definition of my type." She reached out and brushed her hand against his cheek. "Didn't think it was that hard to figure out."

"But Jack..."

"Jack doesn't care," she cut him off. "He's the one that suggested I hang out with you more. He's clueless. He only cares that I keep Natalie away from him."

"So this whole time, you've been..."

"I've been flirting with you. And you've been trying soooo hard to resist. It's kinda cute."

He had been so sure that what he felt was wong--so convinced that he was betraying Jack. Now... now he didn't know what to think.

"This is... this is insane."

"Maybe. But it's also kinda fun. Don't ya think?"

Luke didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond to that. Everything he thought he understood had just been flipped upside down, and now he was standing there with Sadie--Jack's not-so-girlfriend--who had just admitted she'd been flirting with him for days. Part of him wanted to kiss her again. The other part was screaming at him to stop because even if they weren't dating, it still felt like he was lying to his brother.

"I... I don't know what to do."

"Don't have to do anything. Just think about it, I guess. I'm not going anywhere. Jack's got me stuck here for a while."

She winked, turning toward the door, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts once again.

Jack was up, chatting with his parents over breakfast, Sadie sat next to him looking as carefree as ever. Luke was watching her silently from across the room, his mug of coffee in his grip.

She glanced over at him and smiled like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. And Luke knew he needed to talk to her. He hated pretending things were normal when they weren't. His mind was playing the kiss on repeat and the way she'd admitted her relationship with Jack was just for show.

It all felt like a weird dream.

When Jack got up to grab some more cereal, Luke saw his chance.

"Sadie," he whispered, "can we talk? Alone?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack who was now rummaging through the fridge for some milk. "Sure. Lead the way."

Once they were inside Luke's room, Sadie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "What's up? I see Mr. Serious is back."

"I just... I need to understand how this is supposed to work. The whole thing with Jack. You and me. All of it."

"What's there to understand? Jack's clueless. He doesn't know anything. Not that he'd care anyway."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is," she shrugged. "You're overcomplicating it."

"I don't know if I can keep this up. It's driving me crazy."

"Is it? Because it didn't seem like you were too hard of a time last night on the porch."

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He grabbed Sadie by the waist, before he could second-guess himself, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

Sadie definitely didn't second-guess anything, kissing him back as her hands ran up to his hair. Any boundaries that Luke had tried to build had been torn down, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop.

They stumbled backward, his hands sliding down a bit to her hips. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated with every passing second. The rest of the world melted away, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing as they broke apart just to kiss again.

The bed hit the back of Luke's knees and they collapsed onto it, lips still locked. For one of the first times since Luke had met Sadie, he wasn't busy thinking about right or wrong. He wasn't thinking about Jack or the consequences of his actions. All that mattered was Sadie, the taste of her lips, and how tight her fingers were gripping his hair.

Just as things were about to heat up further, Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

"Sadie? You up there?"

She pulled back instantly, her lips swollen from the kiss. "Shit," she whispered. "I should... I should go."

Luke didn't say anything, his eyes half-lidded. Sadie stood up, adjusting her shirt and hair as she shot him a smile "Sorry, Luke. Duty calls."

She looked back at him one last time as she opened the door. "This isn't over."

What had he gotten himself into?

It had been a couple days since Sadie and Luke had shared their first kiss, and they'd been sneaking around ever since. Little touches when no one was looking, stolen kisses behind closed doors. The more they got away with, the more daring they became.

That afternoon, Jack had been outside messing around with Quinn by the dock, while Sadie had slipped away, telling Jack she needed to grab something from inside. Luke had been alone in the house, trying to clear his head. But the second Sadie entered the living room, everything went out the window.

And suddenly, they were tangled together on the couch, lips locked. Sadie gripped the front of his t-shirt, tugging gently. It was just them in that moment, tension building higher and higher, and Luke couldn't stop himself from enjoying it.

Then the door slammed.

They pulled apart just in time to see Jack standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. The expression on his face was confused, almost dazed as he stared at them.

"Uh... what the fuck?" His tone was sharp, but not angry--more like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Luke's hands fell away from Sadie as he shot up from the couch, his face flushed. "Jack, I--"

Jack cut him off, pacing the room, his eyes shooting between them as he tried to piece everything together. "How long... how long has this been going on?"

Sadie just waited for Luke to speak.

"Luke, how long?" Jack repeated.

"A couple days. It just... happened."

"A couple days? And you just didn't think to say anything?"

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Jack's attention shifted to Sadie. "Does he know? About us?"

"Yes, Jack. I told him. He knows it's all fake."

"So... you knew? You knew it was fake, so you decided..." Jack gestured wildly between them, pacing again, his hands tugging at his hair. "I don't get it. I don't fucking get it."

"Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen--"

"Didn't mean for what to happen? You didn't mean to start sneaking around with my fake girlfriend? Or you didn't mean to fall for her?"

Jack wasn't yelling. He wasn't angry. He just looked... confused. Hurt, maybe? And that just made it all so much worse.

"J, listen. This whole thing--it got out of hand. Luke and I... we didn't plan this. Just happened."

"But you two... were just... you were just making out on the couch! How does that 'just happen?'"

Sadie rolled her eyes, "Just does."

"Clearly! I mean, I thought everything was fine. I thought everyone was just hanging out, and meanwhile, you two are making out on the couch?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I..."

"I'm not mad. Just... what the hell, guys? I don't understand."

"J, it's not like that. You and I--we're just friends. You know that. This shit with Luke... it's different."

"Different how?"

"Dunno. Just is."

Finally, Jack let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. "Okay. Okay, fine. You two... you do whatever. I just... I need a minute to process all this."

Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand, stopping her. "Seriously, just... gimme a minute. I'll be outside if you need me."

Luke collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands as Jack retreated outside. Could this get any worse?

The rest of the day had been weird and silent. Sadie had spent it journaling and reading, giving both brothers the space that they needed. But as they got ready for bed, things were the most awkward they'd ever been between Jack and Sadie. Jack moved around the room, grabbing his phone charger and tossing it onto his nightstand, while Sadie stood by the dresser, pulling a t-shirt over her head. Neither of them spoke, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

"So... are we going to talk about this?" Sadie finally gave in.

"Talk about what?"

"You know what," she gave him a look. "About you walking in on me and Luke today."

"What's there to talk about? I mean... I get it. You guys--"

"Are you jealous?" she interrupted, her voice timid. "Like, even a little bit?"

Jack blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Jealous?" He furrowed his brow. "No. I don't think so."

"Not even like... deep down?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"No. I don't feel jealous. I mean, maybe if I did... I'd be way more upset about it all. But.. I dunno. I've only ever seen you as a friend. Same way you see me. A close one, sure, but still... just a friend. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But you were really thrown off earlier, Jack. You seemed so... I dunno.... confused?"

"Yeah. I think it was more just the shock of it, ya know? Didn't expect to walk in and see my brother making out with my fake girlfriend."

She let out a small laugh. "So it's not weird for you? At all?"

"I guess it's weird in the sense that... I knew that you and Luke would get along. I just didn't think you'd get along this well."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly see it coming either."

"But no, I'm not mad or anything. Honestly, I think you and Luke fit each other way better than you and me ever could. I'm just surprised... I guess."

"Surprised how?"

Jack sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I just never thought that... bringing you here would lead to you two... doing whatever this is."

"We haven't really figured it out," she rubbed at her arm.

Sadie climbed into bed first, pulling the covers over herself. Jack followed suit, but as they lay there side by side, for the first time since Sadie had arrived, he made no move to cuddle. No arm draped over her waist. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't want to cuddle tonight?"

Jack hesitated, then sighed for the millionth time that day. "It's just... it feels weird now, I guess. Knowing you've been doing... stuff with Luke. It's different."

Sadie bit her lip, and for the first time she felt that guilt that Luke had been feeling. "Jack... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so complicated."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not like you did anything wrong... really. Things are just different now... that's all."

Jack rolled over, facing the other side of the bed, leaving a noticeable gap between them. Sadie stared at the back of his head for a moment, feelings like she should reach out and say something. But it was too late, Jack was already asleep.

Sadie and Luke sat at the end of the dock. The whole day had been awkward and Sadie felt even more out of place than she had when she first arrived.

"I don't want to make this weird," Sadie said, her voice soft, but her eyes locked with Luke's. "I really like you, but if it's gonna screw up my friendship with Jack... we should stop. We have to."

"I like you too. More than I thought I would. But yeah, this whole thing with Jack... it's too complicated. I don't wanna hurt my brother. I'd feel so guilty."

"We have to end things. It's not fair to him. Or us."

"I don't want to end things though," Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... it's not just about the physical stuff to me. I feel something with you, Sadie. Something real."

"I feel it too. But I can't mess up things with Jack, so maybe it's better if we end things now before they get more complicated."

Jack, who had been on his way back inside, had walked past and heard his friend and brother talking. He leaned against a tree, piecing together everything they were saying. His stomach turned. But it wasn't anger. Or jealousy. He wasn't upset. It was relief. Luke and Sadie really liked each other. It wasn't just some sneaky hookup. It wasn't fair to make them feel guilty for something that wasn't even real to begin with.

"Hey."

Sadie and Luke both jumped, practically leaping out of their skin.

"Jack, I--"

"You don't have to explain anything. I heard what you guys were saying. And look, it's fine. You don't have to end whatever this is."

Sadie blinked in surprise. "You're not upset?"

Jack shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "No. I'm not. I'm actually happy for you guys."

"Happy for who?" Ellen's voice joined the conversation.

"Jesus, is everyone listening to us?" Luke whispered to Sadie.

Jim and Quinn were close behind Ellen, also curious to what was happening on the dock.

"Luke and Sadie."

"Luke and Sadie?"

"Yeah, they're in love."

"We're not in--"

"Luke's in love with your girlfriend?" Quinn asked.

"About that..." Sadie rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Sadie and I aren't really dating. We're friends. Close friends. She was just trying to help me get Natalie off my back. And I was helping her get her parents off her back," Jack admitted.

The family stared at him for a beat, then burst into laughter.

"Are you serious? All this was just to keep Natalie away?"

"Pretty much."

Ellen, still smiling, looked at Sadie and Luke, then back to Jack. "You know, Jack... I thought from the start that Sadie was a better fit for Luke anyway."

"Looks like you this turned out well for everyone," Quinn laughed.

Luke turned to Sadie, sliding his fingers between hers. "So... now that the truth's out... what do you think?"

"I think we've got time to figure it out," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. And finally after weeks of being there, Sadie felt like she belonged.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine

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delewlew · 6 months ago

Text

i think the world of you: lando norris x black fem! reader

request: can i request something of the lines of love at first sight & ready to immediately pop out a ring with lando norris but the reader is kind of oblivious, thank you 🫶

tags: childhood friends to lovers, fluff

warnings: swearing, crying, slight angst?

author's note: my first request! thank you so much anon for sending me this lovely ask. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it for you <3

"y/n, sweetheart we have something to tell you." the sparkle of joy behind your mother's eyes made you kick your legs under the table in excitement. you imagined what the surprise was, already trying to figure out how to celebrate your parents finally allowing you to get a puppy. the small yorkshire terrier puppy you'd seen at the pet store came to mind as you mentally rattled off names you'd thought of just in case. however, all of that disappeared from your brain when you heard your father say, "you're going to begin year 5 at a new school this year." the excitement in your face faded and your mouth went dry and pools of thick tears welled beneath your eyes. as if that wasn't a bad enough statement, your father continued, "and you'll be living with your grandparents! it'll be like when you go on holiday to visit them in the summer." the world around you stilled and for a solid three minutes you said nothing, the tears spilling from your eyes spoke for themselves.

the smile faded from your mother's face and she tried to console you, "sweetheart this is a great thing!" you swatted her hand off of your shoulder and shifted away from her, "no it's not. a great thing would be a puppy, not a new school. i don't want to live with grandma and grandpa i want to live here. there's nothing out there, it's kilometers on kilometers of grass!" your father chimed in trying his hand at explaining, "princess, this is for your own good. you just told us last night that your classes were to easy. your teachers have told us this new school will challenge you and it will be more fun! you even get to live at the school once you start year 9. isn't that amazing?" if you could have screamed and let out every cuss word in the book while living to tell the tale, you would have. instead you just sobbed harder, your parents tried to reason, "your grandparents have a dog too." but that only resulted in you running off to your room and crying yourself to sleep hoping that maybe they'd take pity and let you stay home.

you didn't get to stay home.

the entire ride out to your grandparents home was completely silent as you watched the large expanse of green leafed trees and bright grass for nearly 3 hours. now, your grandparents home wasn't entirely awful. for starters it was a georgian style manor house that sat a considerable distance away from neighbors which meant it was much quieter than your old london flat with your parents. the interior reminded you of the museums you visited for school trips by the amount of paintings that hung on the walls. the only difference was that instead of portraits of fair skinned women with flowing straight hair, these were paintings of women with rich dark brown skin that glowed when the sun shone through the windows. the entire home smelled of lavender from the countless rows of soft purple springs that bloomed around the perimeter of the home. the highlight of the move was getting your own bedroom that was nearly triple the size of yours back home. the first few nights you felt swallowed by what seemed like an endless sea of darkness rather than a new bedroom, but eventually you'd grown accustomed to the space. the last few days of summer break were spent running around the backyard with your grandmother watching you chase their old dog around until he grew tired and simply laid in the grass and you decided to cloud watch beside him.

when the first day of school finally came you had yet to grow an interest in the place. the building looked slightly similar to your old school which brought a slight sense of comfort. but that feeling was gone the moment your grandfather walked you inside and entered the school office. the headmaster was waiting for you with a boy who was a few inches shorter than you with light brown hair and a few moles dotted across his face stood beside the tall man. the boy's blue eyes were locked on you, looking you over with a kind of interest that exists for new kids being welcomed into a new place. the headmaster cleared his throat and greeted you, "good morning young lady, i am headmaster smith. we are happy to have you join us here at Millfield school. to help you become aquainted with the school we're pairing you up with another student who will show you around. unfortunately our female student has become sick so you will be assigned to lando instead." the man spoke for longer but you didn't listen to a single word, instead all of your attention was on the shorter boy.

the silence between you and lando was deafening, almost as if you were having a staring contest. you took the opportunity to turn it into exactly that, locking eyes with his. for a moment he seemed unaware of your challenge until he narrowed his eyes indicating that he caught on. a minute passed and your gaze was unwavering whereas his began to falter, eyes welling with tears until he finally caved and blinked causing you to smile for the first time that morning. his smile was big and toothy, like a kid who'd just grown in his adult teeth and his face hadn't quite grown into the change just yet. the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when you finally introduced yourself once you'd been dismissed into the hallway, and to class.

from that day forward you only blossomed in school from being extremely shy and reserved to being slightly more social with those in your class. for all of year 5 your tablemate was lando and you'd become quite close, best friends even.

rather quickly you realized a distinct difference between the two of you when it came to your studies. you worked hard and earned good marks while his attention wavered and his marks showed it too. when he was called on to read out loud he stumbled over his words and paused often, earning giggles from classmates that made him sink back into his chair and want to disappear. not one maths equation made any sense to him especially fractions because why the fuck would you need 'number parts' when whole numbers exist. when people laughed at him and teasingly taunted in singsong tones that he liked you, he'd turn his back to you and pretend you were strangers.

lando realized you were different from your classmates as well. when they laughed at him for misreading a text, you whispered the text along with him so he could recover quickly. when he didn't remember how to spell a word on those weekly spelling quizzes, you slid your paper to show him the answers. when he whined about not getting the maths homework, you realized he could understand fractions by drawing pizzas and dividing them into slices on his papers. when your classmates and his friends teased you both for being best friends with the opposite gender, you threw a punch that landed a kid in the nurses office and promised the other kids they were next if they ever teased you or lando again...they never did.

on weekends he was off karting which you'd learned about fairly quickly after getting to know him. he begged you to come to one race just so he could show off how good of a driver he was after you insisted he had to be bad, as a joke of course. however, the races overlapped with the days you'd spend back in london with your parents. on those days you watched what lando called "grand prix races" on sunday mornings with your father. your best friend told you he'd one day drive one of those big cars instead of the karts he drove on weekends. there were odd weekends where neither of you were away and those you spent at each other's houses. when he was at your house you both ran around barefoot in the soft grass, lavender wafting throughout the yard. when you grew tired of playing he laid his head in your lap and demanded you read him a book because he 'liked the way you said the words on the page' more than when he did. not even three chapters into the book he'd doze off on your lap, only to be woken up with small white dandelion's in his hair. on the days you went to his house, he'd show you his karts and watched in interest as you asked about every single detail until you ran out of questions.

these were the years that you cherished most in your childhood, long before worries of university or breaking into formula one. but those days arrived and you found yourself watching his races alongside his family on the days your parents allowed. he always seemed to drive a little better knowing you were watching him, yet he wasn't exactly sure if you knew that to be true. countless pictures hung on your bedroom wall of the two of you after one of his races or after you'd won a medal in whatever club sport you'd ventured into that season. academic and athletic certificates and ribbons littered your desk while trophies were on his.

by the time you were both nearing the end of secondary school lando left school to pursue racing more seriously. you'd been the most supportive of his friends when hearing about the change, yet another reason why he cherished the friendship you two had even more...even if he wished it actually was more. you kept in contact with him but watching him race in person had long been left in your childhood years. all of your life revolved around getting accepted into a good university yet you still tuned in every race online to see his results. however, by the time you enrolled in university and lando began in formula 2, contact had dissolved completely.

years passed and lando had broke into formula one while you'd successfully graduated university and earned a spot as an asset finance associate in one of the most prestigious investment banking companies in the world. every once in a blue moon you wondered what your old friend was up to which led to tuning into a race or two, holding your breath and clutching your heart every time something seemed risky. you'd seen some videos and pictures of him clubbing in whatever city he ended up in. drink in one hand and another on the waist of some woman with a shade of blonde or brown hair that fell over her shoulders in perfectly messy waves. those nights you'd just throw your phone to the side, not wanting to let him occupy more of the time you'd already given him.

what you didn't know was that his mind always found it's way back to you on those hot summer days that reminded him of his childhood. he'd found your instagram years ago and saved the username in his notes so he didn't have to risk getting blocked if he followed you because in his eyes you might hate him. he debated on messaging you through DMs but always shied away from it remembering that time you'd called it a tacky move back in high school. he only hoped that maybe you'd cross paths and then he could have a chance to see you again. however, there wasn't much of a chance that would happen...until it did.

you looked over yourself in the mirror of your apartment, the orange tweed set with a matching blazer was the center of your attention. the company you worked for was an official sponsor of the mclaren formula one racing team, and tonight was the annual charity gala. for two years you managed to conveniently miss out on the event due to getting sick and having to visit your grandparents back to back years. but this time everyone was well, so you had to attend, no exceptions.

the minute you walked through the doors of the ballroom you made a beeline to the first person you recognized, allowing no time to potentially be approached by your old friend. for the entire night you could feel his looming presence in the building and it made you want to vomit. seeing lando wouldn't be bad and you kind of wanted to see him, what you didn't want was to see some pretty blonde girl on his arm expecting an explanation as to why he knew you. part of you didn't know why that was, but you decided it was because you didn't want him to pretend you were strangers, or admit that he genuinely didn't remember who you were.

an orchestra played soft classical music in the corner of the ballroom and you managed to duck away to the bar on the furthest side from the largest crowd of tables. you mindlessly tried to guess the composer of the classical piece while the bartender handed you a drink. a small tap on the back of your arm drew your attention behind you, and the sight nearly knocked the wind from your chest.

lando stood before you in a black suit with his white collared shirt unbuttoned at the very top. that same toothy smile you remembered from your childhood spread across his face, "y/n?" you were silent for a moment before taking a swig of your drink and responding, "lando, hi. what are- what are you doing here?" you rose to your feet and he hesitated slightly before allowing you to pull him in for a hug that he reciprocated. this hand rest on the small of your back while your arms looped around his neck very briefly until you realized the way this may look to someone watching the two of you. he laughed lightly and said, "i'm driving for mclaren, as a formula one driver now." you leaned back against the bar and sat back in your stool allowing him to sit beside you. it was now that you got a good look at him and god have mercy was he finer in person which you didn't think was possible.

those blue green eyes that stared into yours on that first day of school were brighter than you'd ever seen. his skin was tanned as if he'd just been at the beach all day before coming to the event tonight. his messy brown hair had grown longer into cinnamon toned curls that fell perfectly right above his forehead. he looked at you through thick brown lashes as he took in the sight of your matured face. no longer did you have those puffy baby cheeks that reminded him of a chipmunks, but now a more structured face that matched the rest of you.

he requested a water with lemon and you asked, "going easy tonight?" he shrugged and answered with a smirk, "i guess you could say so. how else would i look after you?" you laughed and replied casually, "i think we both know i can handle myself." he shrugged and answered, "yeah but it's what we do right? the BFP." he spoke the acronym out to where it sounded like 'Be-Fip' which made you set down your drink to throw your head back with laughter. you agreed, "oh yeah the Best Friend Pact- how old were we back then?" with a quickness you could only raise an eyebrow at lando answered, "nine.' there was a pause and he continued, "we made it after that time i realized you lied when you said you liked my new trainers." you burst into laughter again at the memory of those ugly ass neon yellow trainers he'd gotten after saving up his own money from a month of chores. you shook your head, "to this day those are still the ugliest thing you've worn." lando asked with a hint of teasing arrogance in his voice, "you've been keeping tabs on me?" you shrugged and took another sip of your drink before bumping his shoulder, "congratulations on miami." he thanked you and for a moment you saw a glimpse of your old friend, the one that came before all of this additional luxury for him.

the entire night the two of you talked about the current happenings in your life. hours flew by and eventually the gala ended meaning you both had to part ways. you pulled him into one last hug and he looked at you, "this time we're not losing contact. i swear i'll blow your phone up until you reply...in the most socially acceptable way possible of course." you agreed and hugged once more before he sent you home in a car he'd ordered for you.

months passed and you two did keep your word, you remained in touch constantly. a few texts here and there turned into a few times a week, then a day, which led to calls and facetimes which lead to accepting an invite to one race. slowly your presence in his life increased, you continued to hang out as friends, getting to know his small circle when they happened to be around. you noticed the way they glanced between you and lando, the way they whispered in dutch, french, and english which had you fully convinced they hated you. but based on the fact that their girlfriends were all friendly to you, maybe they just tolerated you for lando's sake? these days reminded you of the old ones, you finally had your best friend back.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

you looked out to where the sky met the sea, shades of tangerine and flamingo pink blurred into one another against the horizon with thin wispy clouds floating on the surface. the glittering water of the sea shimmered under the golden sun turning it a deep sapphire blue that bled into a shiny obsidian. you inhaled the warm sea salted air as you held lando's hand in your own to play with his fingers as conversation ebbed and flowed between you both like the waves that lapped on the hull of the yacht. he turned his head to still keep you in his line of vision as he watched you from behind. the long fulani style braids you wore fell behind your shoulders and down your back, the sun made your skin glow to a deep gold dipped in rich bronze that made you look like you'd been kissed by Ra himself.

"i could fall in love like this." the statement made lando sit up, all of his attention on you, "what?" you hummed softly, "yeah, bring a girl here and they'd fall for you a million times over." lando felt that same frustration settle in his mind, he'd been trying for months for you to get the hint that he was in love with you without him having to say it exactly like that. curiously he questioned, "you think so?" you nodded in confirmation, "yeah that girl we met in the club that one night? maddie? magui? she'd love this." lando swore his eye twitched when he heard it but he ignored it.

you scooted back slightly and patted your lap for lando to rest his head in the same spot he always had. the soft brown curls on his head threaded through your fingers as he looked up at you, "do you...love this?" the way your eyes didn't even look down as you replied, "yeah reminds me of the old days we'd run around barefoot in the grass and play with the dog until sunset. instead of going in we'd watch the sky turn different colors and we'd keep running around until my grandma had to drag us inside." lando smiled at the memory and added, "and the next week at school we'd be covered in bites and itching like crazy." you sighed and admitted, "i miss when we were in school together." he looked up at you and asked, "how many spelling and maths answers do you think you gave me?" you playfully smacked his leg remembering that you really did help him cheat his way through secondary school.

lando sighed once more and asked, "do you remember that time you punched that boy Rhys?" he could see the wheels turning in your head as you tried to remember, but the minute you did your eyes lit up and you let out a watery laugh, "oh my god- i do! it was because he kept bullying you and insisting that you were in love with me. you never even stood up for yourself so i decided to do it for you." lando shook his head, "can you blame me? i was a head shorter than everyone and all those kids were double my weight! i didn't stand a chance." to be fair he was completely right on that part, if he'd been the one to throw the punch he would have lost, badly.

you finally looked down at lando and he admitted, "it wasn't a complete lie anyways." when you didn't respond he continued, "they only ever teased me about it because it was true. neville and tommy knew me since we were in nappies, they knew when i was crushing on someone. of course since it was grade 5 they told all the guys about it which is how it ended up that way." again, you remained silent and then laughed, "i know you love me so it's fine." lando's heart stopped and his stomach sank to his feet until you simply hummed, "mmm i love you too." again, it was that stupid silly little careless easygoing tone that reminded him that you weren't picking up on what he'd been putting down for so long. it was when you spoke up that he nearly snapped, "and since i love you i'm telling you now that you need to get that girl's number up and ask her out on a dat-"

"i don't want her! i don't want to go on a date with that girl or any girl that you've sent me on social media. i've met them, and i know people who know them. i don't want them okay?" the outburst caused you to push him off of your lap, scooting inches away leaving space between the two of you. the last thing you ever want to do is upset the people you're close to so you proceeded with caution, "i'm sorry i didn't realize i was being overbearing with it. i didn't ever ask what you wanted...so what do you want lando?"

lando answered, "i want to be with someone i can run barefoot under an oak tree with until we're covered in mosquito bites. i want someone to read to me until i fall asleep, i want someone who will tell me every single detail about their day. i want someone who will insist i let her dance in the rain and complain that she got sick as if i didn't tell her she would, i want someone who will visit my races and ask every single question to an engineer because she genuinely wants to understand what i do. i want someone i can watch the sun change colors with until there's nothing but midnight sky and stars. and if you haven't realized i mean you. i want you, y/n. it's always been you since the day i met you in grade 5 when you came in with those plats and more bows and knockers in your hair than you probably needed and you had a staring contest with me before i even knew your name. i've loved you since you taught yourself about karting from books because you wanted to know what i liked without making me explain it all the time. i've loved you since you threw pudding on amelia's blouse and told her you'd feed her entire family to goblins after she told me i'd never make it into formula one and it was your 3rd day of knowing me. and i know you're thinking it so yes, i'm actually in love with you and no i'm not misunderstanding the way i feel. i think the world of you and there's not a day that goes by where i don't want you around me. it's you and it's always been you and i genuinely don't understand how you've been so oblivious to it all but now you know, and please just promise me that even if you don't love me in that way that we can still be friends because i can't lose you."

slowly you brought your hands up to reach out for him, "c'mere." you pulled him into your arms and he tucked his head into your neck. he basked in the comfort of your embrace, the heat radiating off of your body slowing his racing heartbeat. you pressed a kiss to his temple and breathed out, "okay..." he pulled away with a look of worry that he'd messed everything up but you continued, "no it's not bad. i just- okay. i love you too. you're my favorite person and you always have been, probably always will be unless rihanna comes out with another album then you're bumped to #2. but i love you and i promise you didn't mess anything up because i know what's going through your head. this is just a lot right now and i'm willing to do this- us if we can just take our time. i want this to work and i want to be with you but-" lando cut you off seeing you start to fidget uncomfortably, "it's okay, that's perfect actually...that's perfect." he pulled you back into his arms and kissed your forehead, "it's perfect, you're perfect."

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

the end.

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

Text

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around."

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around."

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good."

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country."

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero."

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door.

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave."

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us."

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up.

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist.

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive.

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you.

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there.

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep.

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own.

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to?

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth.

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat.

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last?

Snap out of it!

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat.

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours.

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry.

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts."

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends.

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated.

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?"

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak."

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one."

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring.

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone.

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again.

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response.

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying.

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me."

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets.

Harry huffs and sits in his seat.

Everything used to be so easy with him.

——

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door.

"Knock knock."

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked."

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there."

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you."

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too."

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table."

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night."

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway.

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you.

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful.

——

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is.

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair.

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers.

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner.

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later.

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks.

"Were my hands dirty or something?"

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there?

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously.

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned.

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?"

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked."

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice.

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?"

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school."

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?"

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself."

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program."

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?"

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink?

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision."

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time."

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet.

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean."

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day."

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to."

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space."

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked."

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading.

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom."

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow."

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please."

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation.

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete.

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well.

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy.

"What did we do wrong?"

——

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him?

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel.

Your weak spot was him, and you were his.

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?"

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try."

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love.

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly."

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Fine," you repeated.

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run?

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home."

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in.

——

The open sign of the diner flickers below.

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him.

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit."

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on."

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face."

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other."

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down."

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel."

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you."

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out.

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after."

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other."

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong.

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?"

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp."

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach.

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?"

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain?

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again."

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me."

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either."

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?"

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?"

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you."

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you.

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else."

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me."

And so he does it for the last time.

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other.

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him.

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat.

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same."

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?"

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles."

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony.

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway."

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car."

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on.

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better.

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters.

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks."

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened."

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point.

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?"

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either?

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you?

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you."

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean."

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car.

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave.

Don't hurt yourself.

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge.

Why?

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away.

You still mean so much to me.

——

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening.

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him.

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you.

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it.

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly?

——

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit.

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you.

January 29th

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room?

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul.

I hope she sees the same thing.

June 6th

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms.

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other.

I always have time for her.

August 2nd

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology.

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it.

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again.

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later.

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night.

So he can be reminded of home.

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you.

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go.

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles #adore-laur #home is a feeling

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o-sachi · 6 months ago

Text

Summer Festivals ‧₊˚ ⋅ childhood friends series (Request)

ଳ somehow sparks still fly long after the fireworks display ଳ character; karasu tabito (blue lock) ଳ tags; floof, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: Yes, I decided to make it a series because why not?

Of all the times it could happen, your stupid sandal decided to break now—when you were right in the middle of enjoying the annual summer festival of your hometown. It didn't help either that you were starting to feel feverish. Sweating while being cooled by the evening summer air simultaneously was a combination for disaster it seemed.

To make it worse, Karasu Tabito had to carry you back. He wasn't obliged to do so. You offered to simply trudge back home with a broken sandal and a prayer. But as soon as you told him and HIori that you weren't feeling good—he insisted that he accompany you instead.

You weren't quite sure what was heating you up, the oncoming fever or the concern that the usually nonchalant man was showing you.

You unknowingly tightened your arms that were clasped around his chest. It seems like it snapped him out of whatever train of thought he had.

"Ya doin' fine?" he asked. He hoped you were because your house was still far away.

You wanted to say yes, but absolutely everything made it not fine. For one, you felt like shit—both because of the fever and because Karasu now has to miss out on the festival because of you. But you were dejected since you looked forward to this festival. There was something alluring about its atmosphere, the food, and activities.

Oh, and you wanted to watch the fireworks display.

Thinking too hard, you hadn't realized that you failed to give him a response. "Hey, speak up."

You sigh. "I don't wanna seem like too much of a bother but... no, not really."

His expression softens, but it's not like you could see it. "Yer fever gettin' worse or what?"

"No... I'm okay... I just wanted to see the fireworks I guess."

"Fireworks huh?" he repeated.

"Yup. But I can always go back next year."

He slows his pace and next thing you know he was gently putting you down from his back. The two of you had traveled a good distance away from where the festival was held. You were in the grassy clearing that led to most of the houses in the neighborhood. You rarely stayed here mostly for the fact that there was absolutely nothing to be done here. The place was just trees, grass, and stones—one of which you were sitting on at the moment.

He places his hands on his hips and turns to look at you. "We're pretty far, but I'm sure ya can see the fireworks from 'ere."

A look of surprise appears on your face as you made eye contact with him. After having him carry you for that long—you didn't think he'd indulge you with your request.

"Thank you... and sorry you have to view it from afar."

He chuckles a bit before looking back up at the empty night sky. "Ya know—it's not really 'bout how amazin' the fireworks are. I mean, I know it'll be," he pauses.

A pensive sigh escapes his lips.

"...It's more 'bout the person ya see it with."

HIs words only served to make you flustered. You were sure he knew what he may have implied with what he said. And it made you nervous with how confidently he said it too.

You lost the strength to look at him—choosing to glance at your feet instead... at the sandal that put you in this predicament in the first place.

Karasu took your silence positively, however. He was well aware of how easily flustered you can be.

"I always see the fireworks with Hiori," he adds.

Since Karasu had to carry you back home, Hiori was left to enjoy the festival alone. He would have come with you, but his mother insisted that he wait for them so that they could all go home together. It was the least that he could do for opting to hang out with the two of you instead of his own parents... apparently.

You could only offering a sobering apology for breaking their yearly tradition to which he simply shook his head.

"Nah, I'm sayin' that I'm sick of that guy." He says that with the utmost affection, but more so because he was trying to tell you something.

"I'm telling Hiori," you managed to joke back.

He turns to look at you with his usual lazy smile and with his hands up in defense. "Hey, now... are ya really gon' snitch on me after carryin' ya all the way 'ere?"

You laugh. Of course, not. He has done more than enough for a guy who's supposed to be just a friend.

However, your banter was cut short with a loud bang. The two of you look up at the sky in unison and sure enough—the once dark sky was filled with a plethora of colors.

Your hometown might be incredibly simple in all aspects, but they never seem to go easy on the fireworks. Despite seeing this display every year since you were a kid—it never failed to leave you in awe.

"Ain't this beautiful?" you ask, thinking that he was looking at what you were looking at.

But you'd be wrong because his eyes were on none other but you.

You hadn't even noticed that he sat down beside you or that he was looking at you directly.

"Yeah. It's pretty darn beautiful a'ight."

The softness in his voice juxtaposed the blaring sound of the fireworks. You were expecting a more enthusiastic response and not such a subdued one.

You turned to look at your side where he was now sitting. You were unexpectedly met with a small smile and delicate gaze. It was an expression he spared to no one else but you.

All this time you knew him... you had never seen such a face on Karasu.

It was gentle, kind, and almost affectionate in a way that it had your heart thumping at the same time the fireworks would go 'pop'.

"You're so silly..."

"Yeah? Ya don't hear me blamin' ya for doin' this to me, don'cha?"

The fireworks were slowly dying out and you had missed its finale because you were staring intently at something else.

Now that the gaudy noise was gone, all you could hear was your heart, your combined breathing, and the crickets. The silence nor the impromptu staring contest felt awkward.

It was just you and him—existing.

That being said, there was no need for you to start the conversation again or break the ice because... as you've established—the stillness of the moment felt comfortable.

But for some unconceivable reason, you leaned in. You had offered your lips to his and he was in no position to refuse—not like he'd turn down when you gave it to him so kindly.

You pull away, wanting to keep it innocent and sweet. His gaze was more intense than ever.

"Should prolly bring ya to more fireworks displays huh?"

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #karasu x reader #karasu tabito #blue lock karasu #bllk #karasu blue lock

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hollowed-theory-hall · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.” He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp #hp thoughts #hollowedtheory #harry potter analysis #harry potter meta #hp meta #harry james potter #asks #anon asks #anonymous #slytherin harry potter

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