#I’m so sorry I don’t know what to use

[teaboot]

Things you can do as a security guard instead of acting like a dickhead: a vent post disguised as advice

Offer alternatives: IE, “Sorry, nobody’s allowed to hang out over there, but we have seats over here you’re welcome to use”. I recommend getting familiar with local parks, public seating, free food programs, outreach, mobile aid, etc., just in case those are needed.

Be polite: IE, “Excuse me, sir”, “I beg your pardon, miss”. This should go without saying but everyone deserves dignity.

Avoid phrasing requests as orders: IE, “Don’t stand in front of that” VS “Excuse me, could you move a bit to the side?”. This works best with an explanation, like, “There’s a sign behind you”, or, “you might get clipped by someone”. This helps communicate that you are asking for a reason, not just throwing your weight around. If you don’t have a reason, rethink whether or not you need to be doing anything.

Avoid directing blame or fault. Don’t say, “The owner says you gotta go” when you could say, “I’m not supposed to let people be here for X period” or “do X thing”. Again, try to have alternatives ready so people can use other resources or do something else instead of just abruptly changing plans.

Come from a place of compassion whenever you can. People are gonna tell you to get rid of the crazy screaming guy. They say that because they’re frightened and don’t know what to do. Your best approach is, “Hello sir”, followed by, “How are you today?”, “how’s it going?”, “are you doing alright?”, etc., depending on what the person is ACTUALLY doing / saying when you get there. You can offer help from there if needed, or leave them alone if they’re not in danger or a risk to anyone.

Remember you’re not a cop. This can mean whatever you need it to mean. For me personally, that means that with incredibly rare exception (like trying to sell to kids, contaminating other’s food or drink) I won’t report you for drugs. If I find you doing drugs on my site I’ll tell you a different place where you can do them instead and ask you to do them there. I have interrupted drug deals to ask the client and the salesman to both kindly move 15 feet to the left, I’m not kidding, I do not care.

Know who you can throw under the bus. Sometimes you gotta enforce rules and be the bad guy and if that’s the fault of some dipshit in a suit 200 miles away, you can say that. Sorry man, I can’t let you park your car on the lawn. I know you’re not hurting anyone and frankly I think lawn culture is stupid but there’s other parking stalls and if my boss sees you I’ll get a write-up for not doing my job. Shit sucks sometimes but if it wasn’t me telling you it’d be the new guy, and between you and me he’s an idiot and he’ll probably just report you to bylaw.

Don’t just act like you’re their friend, genuinely try to be a good friend. If you know that someone is doing something that will only result in a bystander phoning police, don’t let them go down like that. Let them know, “hey man, you seem like you’re having a shit time and I get it, I’ll do what I can, but we gotta have this conversation somewhere else ‘cause we’re freaking out the old ladies.”

Swallow your tongue. You can’t fix the world. People are gonna bitch at you about communists and 5G and gangster rap ruining the neighbourhood, that’s just part of the deal. Nod along, remain neutral, shut down any hate speech, redirect if you can, and keep a limit in mind where you’ll have to shut things down.

Accept that sometimes there are no solutions. Yes, that angry guy who blasts music will be back tomorrow. That homeless woman who asks you to help her find her dog that she hasn’t had in 30 years will ask again, and yes, you’re still going to take a description and promise to keep an eye out. That kid who smokes crack behind the building has been clean for a few weeks and still stops by to say hi, and you hope he’ll get his life together and be happy, but he also might relapse and OD before he hits 25. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can, even if nothing is guaranteed.

Be kind to teenagers. Being a kid is hard, and everyone’s on their ass all the damn time for everything.

Remember that the vast majority of bad people aren’t bad, just unhappy. The guy who keeps showing up drunk and puking on the carpet is unhappy. The lady who bitches about the service every single time and keeps coming back anyway is unhappy. The guy who leaves trash everywhere is probably unhappy. If they were happy, maybe they’d do better, but they’re not, and that’s kinda sad. You don’t have to let them get away with their shit, but they probably aren’t actually a worthless human being either.

It doesn’t matter if 12 is true or not. You need to believe it or you will become a harsh and bitter person. Look for evidence that people are not terrible and invent it if you have to

Don’t let yourself become a bastard

[moonstruckme]

emt marauders where they go away on a hokiday and reader gets sick but hides it so they can have fun?

cw: some phlegm talk? idk hardly a trigger but a little gross depending on your tolerance of all that

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“Ow,�� Sirius whines. 

“Sorry,” says Remus, clearly being as gentle as he can in smoothing sun lotion onto Sirius’ pinkened shoulders. “It wouldn’t hurt if you’d reapplied earlier.” 

“No one else had to reapply,” he grumbles, then hisses as Remus moves to a new spot. 

“You’re extra special.” James simpers, kissing Sirius’ cheek. “You can always hang back in the room if it hurts too much, you know.” 

Sirius glares. “I’m not going to sit in the room by myself while you all play Baywatch and make out in the ocean.” 

“We don’t do that.” Remus frowns. 

“I’ll stay with you,” you offer. You hope your eagerness doesn’t sound as obvious to your boyfriends as it does to you.

Sirius softens some. “You don’t have to miss out for me, baby.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“I’m not going to waste a day of holiday anyway,” he says decisively, just as Remus puts the cap back on the sun lotion. “Onward!” 

You try not to deflate, resigning yourself to spending the afternoon as you spent the morning and all of yesterday before that: camped out under an umbrella, using toilet paper stolen from your hotel room as tissues when the boys aren’t looking. 

“Can we stop for ice cream on the way?” you ask as you make your way out of the room. 

“Again?” James laughs. “Angel, at this rate you’re going to be going through sugar withdrawal on the flight home.” 

You shrug. “That place by the boardwalk is really good.” 

You wouldn’t actually know. Your taste buds have gone rather lackluster since the onset of your cold; you wouldn’t know much difference if you got strawberry or bubblegum or peppermint candy cane. It makes your sore throat feel much better for a few minutes, though. 

Ordinarily one of your boyfriends might push back against you eating sweets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but because it’s a holiday you’re sitting on the sand finishing off a cone of pink something a short time later. Sirius has taken up residence by your legs, slowly covering them with sand to fulfill his vision of making you a mermaid tail. You’re trying not to wince as the sun worsens your headache. 

You want to enjoy your trip, you really do, but the beach is just too hot and too bright and too coarse when what you really long for is your bed and a cup of honeyed tea. No one drinks honeyed tea at the beach. You wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for some. 

“Do you think you ought to have scales?” Sirius asks. 

You hum, furrowing your brows like you’re paying attention. “I think so. Most mermaids do, right?” 

“Probably right.” Sirius leans forward, kissing you before you can stop him. “Brilliant girl.” 

You think you’re a horrible girlfriend. Even when he does sweet things like that, you want him gone badly. Before Sirius got sunburned and took shelter under the umbrella with you, it was him and James in the water all day long and Remus lying next to you but too absorbed in his book to notice you occasionally sneezing or blowing your nose. With Sirius here, you can feel the buildup in your sinuses like a dam ready to break. 

You know it would be easier to just tell your boyfriends you’re feeling under the weather. Easier for you, but not easier for them. They’d want to look after you, and they’d be giving up their own fun to do it. You won’t ruin their holiday because you’ve got the sniffles. 

“Hey, if you lay back I can give you a mermaid torso too.” 

You frown. “Don’t mermaids have human torsos?” 

“Yeah, but with a seashell bra.” 

Before you can come up with an excuse for why you don’t want to lie down and let Sirius cover you up to your neck in sand, James comes bounding over. He’s dripping wet dangerously near to Remus, who pulls his book closer with a reproachful look. 

“No one wants to come out in the water with me?” James asks. 

Sirius pouts at him. “You need a playmate, babe?” 

“Yeah, I do actually.” 

“Too bad. Get the sun to be nicer to me, and I’ll come out.”

“Why is that my job?” James looks to you, pleading. “Come on, lovie. You haven’t been in the water nearly this whole time. Do you really want to go home without having been in the ocean?” 

Guilt eats at you. “I’m okay,” you say, apology in your tone. “I’m having a good time here.” 

“Why don’t you go for a little while?” asks Remus. You hadn’t realized he was paying attention. “Just to say you did.” 

“Don’t make me carry you out there,” James teases. 

You try to smile before eating the last piece of your cone. “Okay,” you say, “just for a little while.” 

“Fine.” Sirius throws up his hands as though he’s lost a long and onerous argument. “If you’re going to leave me here with boring old Remus” —he drops a wink, though Remus only rolls his eyes— “I’ll come too.” 

James half drags you both to the water, you and Sirius grimacing at the sun for different reasons. The water isn’t terribly cold, but you shiver still, grateful when James pulls you close before starting to make his way out to a sandbar he found this morning.

Only, the sandbar seems to have gone away further than where he left it. James and Sirius don’t mind, laughing and splashing each other and trying to coax you into their games. You smile tersely, using all your energy to continue swimming. You’ve gone far enough out that the tips of your toes are barely skimming the sand, though when you turn around Remus and your umbrella really don’t appear so far away. 

It’s because you’ve turned to look that the wave takes you by surprise. 

You’re underwater in an instant, thrown head over heels and tumbling like a piece of litter caught in the tide. You choke on saltwater. It takes you what feels like forever to figure out which way is up, but then you push down on the sea floor, shoving yourself towards the surface. 

You emerge coughing. Sea water streaming from your nose and mouth, tears welling in your eyes. It stings. 

You hear the boys laughing, James’ warm hand landing between your shoulders. He rubs consolingly. 

“Aw, sorry, lovie. It happens. That really took you down, huh?” 

You try to laugh along with them, but it’s hard when saltwater seems to flow endlessly from your nose. You realize at the same time as James that it’s not all saltwater. 

“Whoa. Needed a purge, did you?”

“Sorry.” You wipe your nose on your arm, rinsing it off in the water. You feel disgusting and embarrassed. 

“No, don’t be.” James palms your face, smiling as he wipes the couple of tears that have escaped your eyes. “This is what saltwater does. It cleans out your nasal passages. It’s a good thing, getting all the muck out.” 

You’re about to respond with something equally positive when you sneeze violently. More snot comes out of your nose. 

“Shit, baby,” says Sirius. “You were really clogged up. You feeling sick or something?” 

You think that maybe it could be a joke, but your guilty expression gives you away. 

James blinks. “Really?” 

“I’m fine,” you say. You know it’s not very convincing when you’re trying and failing to stop the globs of mucus leaving your nostrils. 

“You’re sick.” Sirius sounds aghast. “For how long? Why didn’t you say?”

“A couple days,” you admit, “but it’s really not bad. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.” 

“Ruin everyone’s fun,” Sirius repeats, muttering. He pulls you into a hug, mindless of the snot getting on his shoulder. “You are the fun, baby.” 

You nearly snort. “Not like this.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe I like making you tea and bossing you around? Hm? Did it occur to you that that might be fun for me?” 

“I think it’s occurred to all of us that being bossy is fun for you, babe,” says James. His smile has a pitying edge as he begins to shepherd you both back towards the shore. “Come on, let’s go.” 

“Please don’t let my cold mess this up for you,” you plead.

Sirius gives you a stern look. “Shush.” 

“Angel, how could it?” James asks in a nicer tone. “We’ll still be together, won’t we?” 

[neeeooon]

Hellooo! It's my first time ever asking a request like this 😅 Could you write headcannons for blue lock boys, how they would react to when "bridesmaids giving the groom sexy Polaroids of the bride throughout the night" like the trend in tiktok!! I'm curious about Barou, reo, rin, and yukimiya 👀 but you are welcome to add others as well!! Hehehe thanks!!

YES i’m sorry for the wait I HOPE YOU ENJOY 🤍

when your bridesmaids give them sexy polaroids

husband bllk x fem!reader. suggestive

barou shouei

-> he’s breaking a sweat after photo two and loosening his tie by photo three

-> protects those half-naked photos of you like it’s his only duty on this earth. will bite anyone’s hand off if they so much as breathe in his direction when he receives another polaroid of you

-> when you waltz over to your new husband, wrapping yourself around him in newlywed glee, it takes more restraint than he’s used to to keep his hands from wandering. especially in front of your friends and family

-> “you know exactly what you’re doing to me with these little photos, don’t you?” you give him an innocent look and kiss the lobe of his ear. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.. ;)”

mikage reo

-> eyes threaten to pop out of his head when your bridesmaid subtly slides a polaroid in front of him. a polaroid of you in a very inappropriate manner

-> when he catches your eye and sees you wink, he knows he’s in for a treat

-> has half a mind to call the reception off early so he can have you all to himself, but this is your wedding night, and he wants it to be perfect for you

-> turns out, he’s not the only one thinking this way. when you appear at his side, dragging him to the parking lot like teenagers sneaking out, you tell him that you asked your bridesmaids to stall for the remainder of the party before locking the car doors and hopping into his lap

itoshi rin

-> you’re acting nonchalant, trying to feign innocence about the explicit photos you and your bridesmaids took for your husband, but he misunderstands your innocence as ignorance

-> gently pulls you aside after receiving the first photo. “y/n, i know you love your friends, but…” and he gives you the photo. “i don’t want vulnerable photos of you being spread around on our wedding day.”

-> you find his concern adorable and decorate his cheeks with lipstick-covered kisses. “aw, honey! it was a surprise gift for you, no one else has seen them.”

-> he flushes bright pink at that. “oh.” “thank you for protecting me, though.” “um, you’re welcome.”

yukimiya kenyu

-> it’s a slow descend into madness for gentlemanly yukimiya

-> literally chokes on his champagne when he receives the first polaroid from your bridesmaid. she hands it over so coyly, like she doesn’t know she’s holding his demise in her hands

-> he’s all tight smiles throughout the night. cannot keep his eyes to himself, and thankfully people think it’s only because he’s admiring his new wife. while that’s mostly true, he’s mentally mapping out the shape of you beneath that dress

-> “ken?” “hm? yeah?” you give his thigh a gentle squeeze beneath the table and lean close so that your lips are near his ear. “you’re staring.” “sorry, darling. it’s hard not to with those images of you printed in my brain.”

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part eight | psh.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyungline got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni, sunghoon being mean, degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, slapping, choking. slightly rough sex. this is not proof read. (read at your own risk)

note: LAST PART OF STRIP FOR ME. it took a while. i was taking a break to give time for myself and to refresh my writing skills. i hope you guys are doing well and waited for this part. i’m sorry if i kept you waiting. anyway, first post in 2025! send me asks. reblog and reply (nice) comments. let me know what you feel about this one.

slutofpsh 2025 © all rights reserved.

“I still can’t believe that Sunghoon gets to have her for the whole day.” Jake sounded pissed as he placed yet another golf ball at its position. He stood back up then glanced at his two best pals.

Heeseung is sat down while waiting for his turn. Jay’s eyes watches him get into position.

“Can’t you just shut your mouth and take your shot quietly?” Jay scoffed right at him. It was obvious that he’s so done hearing all these repetitive rants from his friend.

Jake raises his hand to flick him off before taking his shot. He poured all of his emotions into it causing the poor ball to fly so far.

A few golfing assistant claps at his wonderful performance, but it seems like Jake’s still annoyed about something.

Heeseung pats his shoulder before placing a brand new ball for his turn.

“Give it up, dude. You know its the least we can do for him.” he mumbled. His adams apple bobs as he tried so hard to mask the small jealousy that igniting insideffy. He’s better than this.

“Its unfair.” Jake continued complaining.

Jay sighed heavily, “Then if Sunghoon suggests we fuck off since he likes her first, what will you do?” he raised his eyebrow at his friend.

Jake pursed his lips, jaw clenches hard.

“Now you stopped talking, huh?” Jay scoffed before walking to replace Heeseung to his place since its his turn now.

Heeseung lets out a strained sigh and claps his friend’s shoulder. Jake remains silent.

“I know it may sound unfair, but Sunghoon’s kind enough to share her with us. After all, he’s the first one to like her. Don’t forget that.” and with that, Heeseung walks closer to his golf cart. An assistant rushes her way near him to help him.

On the other hand, Sunghoon pries his eyes open and waits patiently for you to come out from your house. He’s been here for more than thirty minutes and you just informed him that you’ll be down soon.

He’s resting over his big bike, hands inside his pockets. The weather is so nice today and he’s excited to spend the whole day with you. But a part of him is worried. He stayed late last night to calm himself down and not lose his shit for today.

“Hoonie!” his lips instantly stretched into a smile when he saw you walk outside your house.

Wearing some shorts and a t-shirt. The smile on your face is so bright that sent instant relief towards Sunghoon. He’s excited for the day, but also very worried of what’s the outcome gonna be.

“Hey, beautiful.” he softly mumbles and pulls you into a tight embrace once you’re close enough.

He kisses your forehead gently then rests his on yours, staring right into your eyes. It tugs something in your heart, making your chest ache in a good way.

“You’re early!” you chimed.

“Yes, I am. I don’t want you waiting.” he smirks.

“Where are we going today?”

He pulls away while still holding your hand, thumb pressing to your palm. It was warm and it felt so good.

“You’ll see.” and he raises his free hand to hang some of the hairstands to your ear.

His eyes racks down on your outfit and his lips pursed into a faint pout. It made you look down on your clothes in wonder of what seems to be wrong about it.

“You need jacket. We’ll be riding my bike so the wind will be crazy.” he stated that answered your confusion.

Even before you can offer to go back inside and get one, he took off his leather jacket revealing his white sando inside. You went silent, admiring his broad shoulder and toned muscle in front of you.

He smirks while helping you wear it. He made sure you’re all warm up.

“Warm enough?”

You nodded cutely and Sunghoon chuckles sexily while trying to sink in the image of you wearing his jacket. It was obvious that it wasn’t yours. The jacket is so big that your hands disappears from the inside of the long sleeves.

“You need a helmet too.” and he walks towards the bike to get the helmet he bought just for you. It was cute and the color is your favorite.

You jumped cutely and it made Sunghoon’s heart thump, grinning widely. You’re attempting to hold the helmet so you can check it closer, but Sunghoon kept one of his hand holding it just to make sure you won’t accidentally let of it.

“Sunghoon? Is that you?” both of your heads swings over to the left and instantly stood straight when he saw your Mother walking out of the house.

“Mrs. (surname)” he greets and bows his head.

Your Mom smiled warmly as she walks towards the two of you. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you together like this. But she surely remember it vividly how both of you are so young back then, and now you both grew up.

She can’t help but to feel a little emotional by the thought that despite all the things that happened, you two still managed to find way back to each other.

When she’s close enough, she stretches her hand to caress Sunghoon’s face gently. The boy grew up very handsome just how she expected.

It isn’t the first time he had seen him. He remembers him from the other day, with the other boys. She was hesitating at first to go and ask if he’s indeed the same boy you’re friends with. But now that she heard you perfectly calling him by his name, she’s sure of it.

While all of it was happening, you couldn’t help but to look back at your Mom and Sunghoon. A big question plays inside your head.

“Do you know him, Mom?” you asked.

They both look at your way then look at each other. Silently, they both agreed that it isn’t a good idea to bring up the past. Despite a lot of good memories you built with Sunghoon, the pain from that trauma will also give a big impact on you.

“A-Ah, yes darling. His Mom and I are good friends back then.” she smiles at you.

Your eyes grew, “Really?! How come you didn’t meet up?”

Sunghoon walks closer to you with a smile, “Because we didn’t know that you guys moved in this town.”

You nodded, trying to piece up everything together. Sunghoon rest his big hands at your back and caress it gently to send comfort. It didn’t slip off from your Mom’s eyes and instantly, she felt comfort. Like she’s now sure that you’ll be all right.

“Anyway, I should leave you guys since I have a meeting in five minutes.” she changed the topic then walked towards you to cup your face.

“Have fun, okay?”

You smiled and nodded. Her eyed diverted towards Sunghoon. “Take care of her, Sunghoon.”

He nods, “I will.” and your Mom was well assured by those two words.

Once she’s back inside you looked at Sunghoon with keen eyes. “Why didn’t you mention that our Moms are friends?”

He took a step closer then helped you wear your helmet. He smiled, “I was finding the right timing.”

You pout, but decided to let it pass since its been kind of messy before.

He rides his bike effortlessly and helped you hop on behind him. It was the first time you ever ride something like this and its fascinating but also a bit frightening for you. When its just Sunghoon, he made it look easy riding it. Its not.

He chuckles, noticing how tense you are behind him. He grabbed both of your hand and make it wrap around his body, making your chest press over his broad back and feeling his abs beneath his sando.

“Just hold on to me tight, love.” he mumbles and even craned his neck slightly to check on you.

You nodded and he smiled before wearing his own helmet. Your cheeks flushed after feeling his muscles flexing with his every movement. After making sure he’s all set as well, he grabbed your thighs and squeezed it like as if a signal that he’s start driving already.

When he opens the engine, a familiar roaring sound emerges. Even with the helmet, you can still hear it. He started droving off and the wind blew hard towards you. Once he reved hardly causing the bike to speed up, you almost let out a squeal.

It was so much fun, but also nervewracking. The thrill feeling it gave you just makes your blood pumping so hard. No wonder Sunghoon loves this kind of vehicle. This fits him so much.

When he started to add more speed, you couldn’t help but to squeal and giggle. Sunghoon tilts his head and rests one of his hand on your thigh, caressing it. Only one of his hand is in control.

“Hoon! Focus on the road!” you shouted, slightly panicking.

He glances on the road then glances back at you, “What?” he asks a bit muffled due to the helmet.

“I said focus on the road! Both hand on the bike!”

He chuckles and bit his lower lip because of how adorable you sound. The way your arms wrapped tighter around his body is making him giddy inside.

He gave your thighs one more squeeze before removing it to follow your request. It made you relieved and rests your body on his back on more relaxed way.

It took a few minutes until you arrived at their house. This will be the first time you will be coming here. Your head perks up, trying to admire the big elegant gates that surrounds the mansion.

It was fully secured and even before his bike near the big gates, it opened automatically. He drove inside and the driveway is so wide. There’s even a fountain at the middle.

Once his bike was perfectly parked, you kept looking around to check the whole vicinity. You failed to even notice the house workers rushing to greet their newly arrived young master.

Sunghoon made sure you’re stable enough to hold yourself while he get off the bike. He took off his helmet and you watch as he shakes his head to arrange his slightly messed hair. He looked smoking hot.

His eyes stares right at you, ignoring everybody else around. He smirks then settles his helmet on his bike to unhook yours. Your eyes looks cautious once its out in the open. You can now perfectly see the numerous eyes watching the two of you and its making you feel a bit awkward.

Sunghoon saw your reaction and couldn’t help himself but to place a kiss on your cheeks. You looked adorable. You’re still awkwardly staring at their maids while he gently fix your hair that slightly got messy.

“S-Should I say Hi? What should I do, Hoon?” you whispered nervously.

He chuckles and leaned again to give you another kiss, this one a little harder because you’re too adorable.

“Nah, its fine.” he assures you.

“But they’re staring.”

He smiles, “Probably wondering whose this pretty girl I’m with.”

Your pout got deeper, cheeks turning more red because of him. He snorted and carried you off his bike. He helped you take off his leather jacket before holding your hand to pull you inside.

The maids bows their heads when he’s walking pass by making it more awkward. You feel like you need to do something as well. It feels wrong to let them bow without returning the favor. It doesn’t seem like that for Hoon, tho. Its like he’s already used to these things.

“A-Are we going to hang out here?” you ask, trying to divert your attention away from the surprising scene back there.

You roam your eyes around while still holding onto Sunghoon’s hand and letting him drag you towards somewhere.

“Nope.” he said making the popping sound at the ‘p’.

“Then why did we go here?” when you guys made it at the second floor, he walked towards the right and by the end is his room.

He opens the room and you couldn’t help but to feel nervous with a hint of excitement. Even if you didn’t want to, your mind instantly plays a lot of scenarios that can happen.

Sunghoon smirks seeing your blushing cheeks and flustered expression.

“Calm down, pretty. We ain’t doing anything here.” he assures you while leaning close to you from the back. His lips grazing over your ears, hot breath fanning.

“O-Okay...”

“Disappointed?” he asked teasingly. You furrowed your brows trying to hide it, but guilty is plastered all over your face.

“No!”

He chuckles and kisses your neck before walking inside his room, leaving you standing by the door.

“Don’t worry, we have all day.” and he winks before going straight to another door which you assume to be his walk-in-closet.

“Come inside, love. Don’t be shy.” he shouts and that make you take further steps.

His whole room is designed in a simple yet manly way. Minimal colored furnitures that are pleasing in the eyes. Everything is pretty organized for a guy like Sunghoon. Well, you didn’t expect him to be this neat.

You walk towards a few picture frames after noticing them. One of them is a family picture. His Mom and Dad together with Sunghoon and his sister. You’ve never seen her before. She’s very pretty.

Beside that frame is a picture of Sunghoon with the boys. He’s in the middle and it seems like it was taken during one of his birthdays. Heeseung’s smiling widely with a piece sign pose. Jake’s arm wrapped around Sunghoon’s shoulder while he have the biggest grin on his face. Jay is smiling beside them with the same pose as Heeseung.

You can’t help but to smile at how precious they are. Your eyes wanders off and notice one picture frame from the far left corner of the room. It cannot be noticed right away, like as of it was purposely placed there so it can have its privacy.

When you’re about to walk towards it, Sunghoon went out from the walk-in-closet. A big bag on his hand and a bunch of paper bags on the other one.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“The four of you really grew up together, huh?”

He smirks, “Can you tell how sick I am from Jake’s tantrums?” he jokes that made you chuckle. They always love teasing him.

You rest your one hand over his chest and playfully glare at him. “Stop teasing him too much. You know he’s just like that.”

He snorted and laid the paperbags down at his king-sized bed. “Yeah, whatever.”

Your eyes darted over the paperbags. Just by the color and the brands, its mostly for women. He watch your reaction and smile carefully, admiring how cute you are.

“I got these for you.” he mumbles as he hugs you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Why so many?”

He inhaled your scent that he’s grown addicted to. “Because you deserve it.” and he placed a kiss on your cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Hoonie.” you said sweetly.

“You’re welcome, love.” he kissed your neck once before he asks you to sit down his bed so you can check everything out.

“Such cute dresses!” you exclaimed and even took out a few so you can see it properly.

Its sundresses that definitely fits you well. Just the way you like it. You glance at Sunghoon and he���s smiling.

“Yeah, it will look good on you.”

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Secret.” he bopped your nose once before asking you to change quickly.

You nodded and went inside his walk-in-closet after picking the dress you wanted to wear first. Sunghoon said he would pack the rest just in case you want to go change. He’s so thoughtful.

“Damn.” he cursed the moment you went outside.

Your cheeks blushed hardly due to the hot stares he’s giving you right now. The dress is on, but the way he’s eyeing you makes you feel so naked in front of him. It was almost like he’s stripping you inside his mind!

“H-How does it look?”

He struts closer to you and reached for your hand before dropping a kiss on top of it.

“Can you turn around for me, love?” he whispered oh so gently that it sent direct shivers to your spine. Its the way his voice sounded so low.

You giggled to try and mask the pounding of your heart and did as he told. While still holding your hand, he turns you around.

“Perfect...” he said with a small smile. “You look perfect.”

His intense gaze remains for a while before you decided to lean towards him to connect your aching lips with his. Its too much. The emotions, his stares, his warm touch— you just need to feel his kisses.

He returns your kisses right away, kissing you hungrily and hardly. It made you feel how much he wanted you as much as you want him. Both of your hearts heartbeats synchronized as he hold you close to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He was biting your lips and sliding his tongue inside your mouth to get a good taste of you. He groans as you moan softly, he squeezed your hips as a signal and you jumped to wrap your legs on his body. He held you for support as he sat down the bed to continue kissing you, devouring you.

“H-Hoon,” you moaned his name and his brows furrowed hardly before moving away. He even gave your lips one last chaste kiss before looking at your eyes.

“Later, pretty.” he said that made you slightly frustrated. You can feel the space between your thighs dripping wet and you want him inside you right now.

He rest his forehead on yours and smiles, “I promise to make it up to you later, okay?” he tries assuring you when he saw the slight upset look on your face.

You pout and left with no choice, but to agree with him. He fixes your hair and guided you back to your feet. He grabbed the bag containing both of your things.

The two of you went downstairs and you saw the maids once again. It made you awkward, but you smiled brightly at them and tried waving.

“We’re not taking your bike?” you asked confused when you noticed that he’s guiding you inside a sports car you’ve never seen before. He never used this at school.

“No.” he answered casually and placed the bag at the compartment before opening the door for you.

“Then why not take this car at the first place?”

He smiles and rests his hand on your lower back, “Because I remember you mentioning how you want to try to ride that bike.”

Your eyes turned softly at what he said. As far as you remember, you’ve only said it once and he managed to remember that. You tip-toed and placed a kiss on his lovely lips.

“Thank you so much, Hoonie.”

“Anything for you.” he kissed your temple before letting you go inside first.

“We’re riding that?!” you exclaimed and even hopped continuously while looking over this yacht.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yes.”

“Really?! I’ve never been in one!” and you stared with so much amusement towards the fancy yacht.

There are people trying to get it ready after your arrival. They greeted the two of you with enthusiasm and helped you get on it. Sunghoon’s hand are assisting you so you wouldn’t fall as the yacht are a little unstable due to the waves.

“Careful.” he mumbles sweetly and once he’s sure you’re safe aboard, he stepped in with no sweat. Obvious that this isn’t his first time.

“Wow!” it looked so fancy. It has one room and an overview deck that is perfect.

Sunghoon talked to the people and you watch how one by one they started to leave the yacht. You glanced at him with confusion.

“Are we going alone?”

“Yes.” he answered and even fold his white polo.

“Can you drive it?” the question doesn’t sound like as if you don’t trust him behind the wheels, but more of an amusement that he can manoeuvre one. Is there something he cannot do?

He smirks, “Yeah. Me and the boys usually go out to fish whenever we’re bored.”

“So you’re taking your yacht?” and you even held onto the railings because its still moving a bit because of the waves.

“We take our own yachts, love. We race on the ocean too.” he smiled cockily that made you rolled your eyes.

He chuckles and pulls you closer to kiss you on the lips. You forgot how these boys are born rich and on another level.

“Anyway, let me show you around before we sail.” he grabbed your hand then gently intertwined your fingers before guiding you inside.

The whole yacht is pretty. After roaming around, he asked you to come up to him as he’ll start driving towards the ocean already. He even handed you a summer hat. No wonder he gave you a pair of black two piece to wear under this sundress.

“Woah.” you exclaimed amazed when he started driving. He glanced at you and chuckled at how amazed you are.

Actually, since he’ll be the last one to take you out on a date. He was a little worried that one of them would have the idea on taking you on a trip on a yacht. Thankfully, none of them did and he proceeded on his plan.

“Wow! The water is so clean here!” you even ran down the stairs so you can look over the front railings.

“Be careful, pretty.” Sunghoon reminded while looking at your direction, wearing a sunglasses.

“Do you think there’s shark here?” you asked worried.

Sunghoon can’t suppress the smile spreading across his handsome face. How come you’re so adorable while asking these innocent questions to fill your curiosity? He really can’t with you. He feel like he will lose his mind.

Once he’s satisfied enough of your location, and by that it means you’re in the middle of ocean, far from any land you can set your eyes to.

The water’s so clean and the breeze ain’t that bad too. Its such a perfect weather to come here and you can’t stop giggling to yourself while watching the crystal clear water beneath.

You failed to notice how Sunghoon sets the anchor and grabbed the mat to place it on the middle. He glanced at you and you’re now wearing your bikini. His eyes dangerously racking from your head down to your body.

He licks his lips and walked closer. You glanced behind you when a shadow looms and you smiled brightly at your boyfriend.

“Its so beautiful here.”

He smiles, “I think you’re prettier.”

Even before you can master a reaction, he reached for your arm and helped you get up. Your eyes stares right at his and mouth gapped open, unable to say a word because of how handsome he is.

“Come here.” he then guided you to the mat and your eyes looked thrilled of what’s about to unfold.

“Lay down for me.” and you obliged to his request.

You’ve gone silent because of excitement and every cell in your body is getting hyped up.

“I want to taste you.” he says and hand racks from caressing your cheeks, down to your neck, chest and tummy. He just ran his hand on your skin, very gentle. Taking all his time.

He pressed his palm on your stomach and made you lay on your back. He leans in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, then on your stomach before pulling away to get a full view of your bikini.

“It looks so well on you...” he compliments and even stick his finger on the waist band, dangerously playing with it.

He lifts his eyes trying to check for your reaction and he smirks seeing how your eyes looked so desperate for him... for his touch.

“But I think they need to be stripped off of you.” his fingers pressed on your skin. They felt so hot, burning.

You gulped slowly feeling like as if you’re being lifted in the air.

“Do you want me to take it off of you, pretty?” his voice soft, a bit teasing. Obviously teasing.

You nodded, a bit eager making his smirk grew wider. He loves it whenever you’re like this. He pulls his hand away then towards the knot on the hips. Slowly, he pulls the string to untangle it.

You bit your lips in anticipation, but unconsciously roam your eyes around.

“Here? Outside?” you nervously mumbled, also feeling a bit excited about it. “B-But what if people see us?”

“We’re so far from any land, love.” and he caress your legs to ease you a bit. A smirk still plays through his sexy lips, “And besides the fishes can use some entertainment.” he joked.

You glared at him playfully that made him chuckle as he kisses your knees. “Just kidding. Relax, okay? We’re safe here.”

Eventually, you did relaxed by his touch and his assuring eyes.

“I’m going to eat you now.” he warned and it was almost like a torture for you.

A nod is all you answer to him. Your mind was already blank. All you can think of is how you want to feel his lips on your core, his tongue deep inside you.

He placed a kiss on your inner thighs before diving in. A gasp left your mouth the moment his lips touched your core. It was warm and slightly wet. He started lapping in a slow, torturous pace. Like as if enjoying taking his time making out with your pussy.

“H-Hoon!” you called his name out like he was not there, between your legs.

His fingers digged on your skin as he looks at your over his eyes. He enjoyed the view of your pleasured face, but he’s enjoying eating you even more. He can taste your sweetness all over his mouth and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Ugh!” and your hand reaches for his soft hair when he started to eat you more aggressively.

You felt like you’re up in the sky, mind blank and like as if nothing else mattered for you. You couldn’t even worry about the chance of people seeing the two of you anymore. Just your orgasm coming your way. Sunghoon is really making you dumb using his tongue.

Your back arches when you’re almost there. Sunghoon knew you’re close so he tried reaching the depth of your pussy using his hot tongue. His lips completely attached on your clit adding to the pleasure you are having.

Sunghoon’s finger tightens on your skin making you whimper. His eyes flutters open to scan you and even before you can reach for his hand to hold it, his grip loosen. Your brows furrowed in confusion for his behavior but it was all thrown away once his his thumb rubs on your clit for added pleasure.

You are losing your mind. He’s so good with it. Knowing what feels good and what can make you completely insane for him.

“Sunghoon!” you screamed and eyes rolled at the back of your head before your release the first anticipated orgasm of the day.

You felt his lips stretched in a grin as he lapped your juice shamelessly. While still at trance riding your high, you carded your hair then looked at him again.

He moved away from your now pulsating pussy and you can see the look of lust on his eyes.

“Here,” he mumbled shortly. Without a warning, he kisses you on the lips passing you some of your own juices. It caught you slightly off-guard, doesn’t really know how to describe such new taste.

He have the biggest smirk after he succeeded making you taste your own orgasm. He looked proud even if you looked even closer.

“Now you know why we go crazy for you.”

You don’t know if you should be thankful that you moved inside the yacht after he fucked you twice outside. It was such a different experience. Clueless if it was because of the thrill of being outside having sex in the open where people can see you, or because Sunghoon looked so hot fucking you. Probably both.

While making out now on top of the bed, both stripped off of every clothes, Sunghoon’s hands were on you. It was so hot for you. The three orgasms you just had was like not enough when you start feeling your core getting wet again.

Sunghoon only managed to cum once. And you can’t help but to feel bothered about it. Not because he only released one time, but because how of how he’s acting a bit strange.

You’ve known Sunghoon. This isn’t the first time you two did this. You’ve seen how he is on bed and its not enough to describe how good he is. He’s usually very dominant and loves to be rough around you. Manhandling you every time.

But the whole two rounds, he was so gentle. It still feel good, yes. Its just you can’t help but to notice how he seemed to be holding himself back. Treating you like some fragile glass that will break if he became rough even in the slightest way.

“Hoon, wait.” you pushed him off, his lips chased you and his eyes looked so drunken in love.

“Hmm?” he hummed, not sure if he’s really in the right mind to listen.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly that made his brows creased in confusion.

“Huh?” he licked his lips then ran his hand on your hair to brush them away from your face. “What do you mean?”

You gulped then search his eyes, staring right at his soul.

“Why are you acting different?” you heaved a sigh. “It seems like your holding yourself back.”

Sunghoon was caught off-guard. He is a bit tensed. This was so unlike him. He’s usually very confident in bed and always gets it the way he wants. He didn’t think that you would notice.

He glanced away and was about to move away, but you captured his face then made him stare back at you.

“Come on...” you gave him an assuring smile. “You can tell me.”

He remained silent for a while before he gave in. He sighed heavily before placing a swift kiss on your hand that was cupping his face.

“I’m j-just scared that I went overboard and scare you.” he explains that slowly shed light on you.

“You said that you don’t like us being aggressive...” his voice lowered, like as if he’s so afraid. “I’m scared to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.” he confessed.

Your heart strings tugs when he said those words to you. You bit your lower lip and smiled at him lovingly before leaning in to give him a kiss on his lips. Slow and very passionate so he can feel how much you adore him.

“Well...” you started after pulling away. “I can give an exemption.” you said staring at his eyes.

His eyes sparkles. “But..”

You shushed him with another kiss then you leaned over his ears to whisper. “It will be our little secret.”

And after you say that, you felt his hold tighten. Sunghoon’s eyes turned darker like something has flipped inside him.

He pushed you on the bed, his hand on your neck. Wrapped like a necklace, just like how you liked it.

“Is this what you want, doll?” he asked in a low husky voice.

Your stomach churns at his words and on the way he looked at you. His jaw hardly clenched while manhandling you effortlessly.

“Y-Yes...” it came out like a desperate moan, driving him insane.

“I was doing you a favor and actually being nice and yet you want this side of me.” he scoffed sexily and tilt his head on the side.

“I didn’t know that you’re so naughty, y/n.” he stated. “Such a horny doll for me, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling your core getting even more aroused and starting to clench around on nothing.

“Words... I need words.” he grunted that made you gasp when he tighten his hand on your neck.

“Y-Yes, Hoon!” you managed to say.

He smirked, “That’s my girl.”

“Now I’m going to fuck you so hard and I don’t want to hear any complains.” he said then started to align his now fully erect member on your hole.

“So wet....” he growled. “So so wet for me.”

He leaned down and rest his nose on your cheeks after one kiss. He didn’t even informed you and just slided his whole length inside making you jolt.

“Ugh!” you moaned with a mixed pain and pleasure.

“Your cunt is choking my big dick, doll. You feel that?” he whispered sensually that almost sent you to heaven.

You shut your eyes tightly because of the immense pleasure he’s currently sending you. He started moving, sliding his dick in and out with no mercy. The slapping sound of your skins echoes all over the whole yacht.

“Fuck...” he cursed and his grip on both of your waist tightens. His fingers pressed hardly on your skin, marking it.

He pulled away while still fucking you senselessly. “Let me suck those tits.” and dives in he goes. He licked, sucked and bit your nipple making you gasp.

Your teeth sunked on your lips tightly trying to suppress the moans coming out from them. But when he started to suck on your skin more aggressively, you’ve lose it. The sensation of his dick going inside in a rough way and him marking you all over was just too much to handle.

“Feels so good!”

He scoffed, “Yeah? It feels so good to get you fucked this way?!” he licked his lips and slapped your breast once that made you yelp.

It felt so good. So good that you’re losing your mind. Your whole body vibrated after you reached your orgasm and Sunghoon smirked because of it. He grabbed you on the jaw and made you looked at him straight to the eyes.

“Your pussy walls felt amazing around me, doll.” he leans and kissed you on the lips. “Nothing can ever beat this feeling. Nobody can ever replace you in my life.” and started rutting his cock even harder.

“Open your mouth.” he commanded as you felt his thrust getting faster and deeper. His dick starts to pulsate inside you, indicating his orgasm to get closer.

You obliged and open your lovely lips for him. For Sunghoon, the man that holds you and your heart on chokehold.

He gathers a generous amount of saliva on his tongue before spitting it straight to you. Then without thinking twice you swallowed them before opening it once again to show it to him.

He looked so proud before he placed his hands on your hips again to fuck you harder. He groans and clenched his jaw harder.

You whimpered, feeling another release on the way.

“I’m fucking close, doll. I’m going to breed you so good and make sure you’ll keep all my sead inside you.” and after a couple of thrust he busted it all inside just like he said.

Both of you moaned together when you finished at the same time. He clasped your lips together and thrust inside you in a slower pace to ride both of your highs. It felt so good, amazing.

Sunghoon collapsed beside you, panting. He catches his breath for a while before he raise on the bed, leaning over his elbow to check on you.

“Was that okay, love?” now, his eyes looked a lot more softer. “Too much?” he sounded worried.

You chuckled and with the remaining strength, you leaned in to give him a kiss on his lips. “You were amazing, Hoon.”

Relief washes all over him before resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you.” your heart swells.

“I love you too.” you respond. He kissed you once on the cheek before pushing himself up to grab a warm wet towel to clean you up.

He refused to make you stand up and asked you to stay completely still. You didn’t tried to argue because your whole body is aching. Now its all kicking up and tiredness is slowly taking over.

He starts cleaning you and you watch him with loving eyes. Your heart felt so full watching him take care of you that way.

“Why do you call me doll? Is it because you get off with the thought that you can use me?” you innocently asked him.

His hand stopped from wiping you off. With furrowed brows he glanced at you.

“No.” he answered right away. “Is that how you interpreted it?”

You shrugged your shoulders off, “I read online that some guys think that way.”

He sighed, “I am calling you doll because you’re very beautiful.”

You smiled. “Really?”

He leaned closer to place a hearty kiss on your lips. “Really.”

You felt giddy inside after that then he resumed cleaning you up. While mind slightly floating, you remembered the same question you’ve asked the three boys.

“Hoon?” you called his attention.

“Yes, my love?”

“When did you start liking me?”

He raised his head so he can look in your eyes.

“When I was five years old.”

- Flashback -

Multiple screams coming from the neighborhood kids surrounded the whole playground as the five year old Park Sunghoon hovers over another boy. He got him pinned on the dusty field, holding his cute little collar and punching him once on the face.

“Who’s the scaredy cat now, huh?” he hissed at the crying boy beneath him.

Nobody dares to interfere at the scene, every kid afraid of him. Park Sunghoon. The eldest son of the richest family in the private subdivision. Almost everyone knows him and his family. How can they not? Their beautiful, gigantic million dollar mansion sure is always the talk of the people.

“Sunghoon! Oh, dear!” someone finally went in between and moves him away on top from the poor kid.

His eyes remains staring at him, glaring if you may describe it accurately. He didn’t care if the other kids are giving him those terrified looks or if the neighbourhood moms are whispering with each other about how awful kid he is.

All he can think of is that he’s mad and that kid surely learned his lesson not to mess with him.

“How many times would I have to tell you not to hurt other kids?!” his Mother’s voice is stressed out as she paced back and fort in front of him.

He’s back home and sat down at the sofa, earning an earful conversation with his Mom. She’s stressed that she has to deal with that boy’s family and his hospital bills. Not that it can hurt their wealth, but sure the rumors will spread around and will be embarrassing. She has no idea what to do with him anymore. He’s uncontrollable.

He remains silent that made her even more frustrated. It was obvious that he fears nobody and that even if she talks nonstop, he doesn’t care.

Ever since the incident, as expected, no one wants to play with him anymore. Whenever he goes at the playground, he’s always accompanied with his bodyguard that can stop if ever things escalates.

He roams his eyes around and the kids avoids his eyes with fear. They’re playing in groups, their usual friends.

He doesn’t care or feel hurt about it. In fact, Sunghoon doesn’t even want to play with them. For him they’re all boring and dumb.

“Hi!” Sunghoon snaps his head over to the side after hearing this sweet voice.

That was the first time Park Sunghoon lay eyes on you. With your cute little dress and hair tied with cute bows. Your eyes doesn’t reflect any fear and you have the brightest smile flashing towards him.

‘Wait... Him?’ Sunghoon, couldn’t help but thought.

“Y/n! What are you doing?!” another little girl went close and grabbed her by the arm.

“I told you not to go near him!” she added and even shoot glares at Sunghoon’s side. But when he looks at her, she quickly turned pale and glances away.

“Why? He’s all alone, Sujin.” you even pout your lips.

The other little girl kept on insisting for you to leave Sunghoon alone and he’s just there, watching all of it unfold in front of him.

“It’s okay, Sujin. Go play with the others! I want to use the swing!” you insisted and even started walking closer to where Sunghoon’s at.

Sujin, your friend, was left with no choice but to leave. She doesn’t want to, but she also doesn’t want to be near Sunghoon.

“Hello!” your voice snaps him back to reality.

He didn’t talk and just looked at you with his intimidating eyes. For someone who is five, Sunghoon sure make kids around his age uncomfortable through his gaze. Maybe because despite the pretty eyes, his brows are too thick making him on the more arrogant looking type. The snob kids. His skin pale as snow and his clothes are all branded, indicating a clear status in life.

“Why are you alone?” you asked.

Sunghoon gulps and tried hard to hide what he’s starting to feel. Never in his life that he felt shy or conscious around anyone. He grew up with so much confidence and yet here he is, palm sweating, eyes a little shakey. He wanted so bad to look away, but your pretty eyes makes it so hard for him.

He kept his snobby face then ignores you completely, jumps off the swing then slowly walks towards somewhere. Your lips pursed into a pout because of his attitude, but it didn’t stop you from following him.

“So do you often go to this playground?” once again a small smile flashing through your pretty face.

Young Sunghoon sighs, a little annoyed. Not just because you’re not leaving him alone, but also because he hates how deep down he’s curious of you. He cannot understand himself. Was it because this is the first time someone was not intimidated by his rotten attitude?

He turns around and met eyes with your bright ones. He’s unfocused. He doesn’t know what’s it about. His young self have no idea that this will be the start of his obsession over you.

It continued that way and even before you can notice it, its been a year. Whenever you see Sunghoon around that playground, you won’t leave him alone. Following him around and asking him continuously despite not receiving any response from him.

Today, Sunghoon visits the playground once again. His eyes roams, unconsciously searching for your familiar pretty face. He wanted to say that he’s relieved that he didn’t saw you, but a big part of him is disappointed that you’re not here. He knew today won’t be as fun.

He walks towards the swing and naturally, the kids around cleared up. They still don’t want to be near him even if the last time he hurt somebody was long ago. Ever since you followed him around, he didn’t cause any trouble again. He was always too preoccupied about you that he clearly forgot about messing with the other kids.

He tries to swing his body while hoping he would see you playing with the few group of kids around. When he realized that you are really not here, he sighs heavily and get off the swing.

He was ready to head back to their family car when a small voice calls him out from a distance.

“Hoon!” that nickname.

He whips his head, in search of you. He saw you right away, jogging— almost running your way towards his direction. Excitement ignites young Sunghoon. He licks his lips and tries hard to keep his deadpan expression.

Once you’re in front of him, you stopped to catch your breath and he waited patiently for you to stabilise your breathing.

“Are you leaving already?” you asked, pouting. You didn’t even try to hide that you want him to stay longer.

Instead of answering you, his eyes racks from your head down to your feet. Its like he’s checking if you’re all right. Then Sunghoon’s brows knitted closer when he noticed something on your skin.

“What happened here?” he asks lowly and hand reaches for your arm.

You looked surprised that he managed to notice that.

“U-Uh, I fell down!” and you even followed it with an awkward laugh.

Sunghoon stares right through your eyes, checking them. It was such an intense gaze from a six year old kid. He knew you were lying, but he decided to ignore it for now.

“Next time, be careful.” he whispered full of concern.

You’re caught off guard. That was the first time you ever saw some other emotions through his face. Ever since that day, you two became inseparable. Sunghoon’s Mom are delighted for his sudden change of behavior. Well, he’s still a troublemaker. But its a lot more tolerable when you’re around.

3rd grade and both of you went to the same school. Of course, he’s still always around you. Almost everyone around the campus and your village knew about the eldest son of the Parks being whipped over you.

“Y/n,” he calls when you started bolting towards the wide field of the school ground. You’re grinning from ear to ear and chuckling.

“I told you to be careful.” he reminds.

Most people notices how Sunghoon acts maturely than his age. Or maybe that’s just how he acts whenever he’s around you. He’s always alert, like as if always ready just incase you needed anything.

“Why should I be worried? You’re here with me.” you sounded so assured and you are. As long as he’s around, you don’t feel any worries or fear. Sunghoon gives you peace of mind and you are his peace.

Sunghoon remained the very same. Protective and caring of you. But something added to it. He started to act possessive around you. If someone gets interested towards you, or even tries to catch your attention, he will go mad.

“I can’t believe you did that to him.” you looked upset while crossing your arms in front of him.

You’re at the ice rink. He’s having his ice hockey practice when he suddenly got into a fight with another one from their team. You remember him. He’s the one who tries to be friends with you last practice.

It pissed the hell out of Ten year old Park Sunghoon. That was the first time he ever invited you to his hockey practice and that happened.

He’s currently sat down at the bench, still on his hockey uniform. Hair’s disheveled after taking off his head gear and he’s resting his elbows on his knees while watching you silently.

“You punched him hard! Did you see his nose?” you added and its just making him more upset. Seeing you this affected by him is making him feel irritated towards that guy even more.

“He deserves it.” he mumbles, but enough for you to hear.

You gazed at him with an hawkeye look on your eyes. “Nobody deserves that!”

He clenches his jaw and lets go of his gloves while he stare up at you. He’s sat down and you’re standing in front of you.

“Why are you even so worried about him? Makes me want to beat him more.” his eyes looked serious and scary.

“What?” you sounded confused then added, “Why are you not worried for him? He’s part of your team.”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care about him.”

He stood up making your height difference visible. He took a step closer, making your bodies almost touch each other. You gulped, feeling nervous, heart beating so fast. Lately, you noticed that its always been like that whenever he’s this close to you.

“All I care about is you.” he says while staring down at your eyes. His gaze so intense.

“And I hate it whenever someone’s trying to take away you from me.”

You gulped, cheeks blushing.

“N-Nobody will ever take me away from you, Hoon.” this time, it was your turn to assure him.

You’ve grown attached to him as much as he is with you. And Sunghoon loves whenever you talk like this. Assuring him that you aren’t going anywhere, that you will stay with him.

But life truly is full of surprises. Because the next thing he knew, he was outside the hospital hallway. Your Mom on the side crying, his Mom beside her comforting her.

Sunghoon’s mind was blank while he looks at you from outside the emergency room. His blood went cold, heart being pressed too hardly that he finds it difficult to breath.

He watches how the nurses tries hard to save you from the crash. A car crash. He can’t help but to blame himself. Yes, he’s just Eight. There’s a lot of things that he doesn’t know, a lot of things he still can’t do, a lot of decisions that he regrets.

Due to your close relationship with Sunghoon, he was aware of your parent’s marriage that slowly crashing down. He was with you althrough out of it.

He was there whenever you cry about how they often fight. How your Dad always shouts at your Mom and how he would occasionally hit her.

Sunghoon wants to do something about it. He even informed his parents so they could help, but your Mom refused to file a case to your Dad. They were helpless.

He lets it pass and just made sure you have him and that you’re aware that he isn’t going anywhere. But he couldn’t take it anymore when one day, he saw you with a bruise on your face.

He managed to convince his parents to talk to your Mother about it. Thankfully, she listened this time and file a divorce with him. The case was rolling and Sunghoon’s family were doing their best to help as much as they can.

When it was finalised, your Mom having the custody of you it made your Dad enraged. He took you without her consent and drove away. He was acting crazy, saying that if you two are going to leave him alone, he might as well be dead. And he will take you with him.

That’s why you are here in the hospital, body full of blood and nurses are doing their best to save your life.

Sunghoon rests his hand on the glass that separating you two. He clenched his jaw and eyes brimming with tears. He shuts his eyes and for the first time, he found himself praying. He prayed for your safety and in return he will stay away from you.

He thought it was the end for the two of you. It was so hard to be around you while he felt so guilty about what happened to you. When he learned about you losing most of your memories including those with him, he took that opportunity and asked his parents to move town.

It was heart breaking for young Sunghoon. He knew you are his other half. You belong to him as much as he belongs to you. He lose his spark the moment he moved town. He started becoming the troublemaker that he is before you happened in his life.

Then he met his friends. He started to feel much better. Still longing for you, but better.

He can’t remember the last time he felt his heart drummed. He even forgot how it felt, not until he saw you walking inside the very same classroom five years after. A lot changed in you, but the moment you stepped foot inside he knew right away. His heart reacted like as if a dog seeing its owner after being separated for a long time.

Now that you’re back with him, he can’t mess this up. He lost you once and almost lose you again. He doesn’t think he can afford to go through those therapies again if ever you leave him.

Your eyes were full of tears after hearing it from him. He smiled and held you closer to his warmth, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m s-sorry I forgot about you.” arms wrapping around him to cry even harder.

You felt so bad about it. Yes, you can still remember how frustrating it was when you woke up one day and can’t remember anything. But for you, it was much harder for Sunghoon. Imagine having someone so special for you but they can’t remember you at all. That’s so heart breaking.

“Shh, its okay love.” he placed another set of feathery kisses on your cheeks. “It ain’t your fault.”

He pulls away to cup your cheeks. His eyes are tearstained as well, but a soft warm smile reflects on it.

“I’m just so glad fate brought you back to me.” and he rests his forehead on yours.

You sniffed and shut your eyes, feeling his presense even more. Letting everything sink to you. Embracing your moment with him.

“And I’m not going anywhere anymore. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiled, a tear fell from his eyes.

“I love you.” and he leans in to seal it with a loving, affectionate kiss.

permanent taglist:

@stacey-stonem @tunafishyfishylike @love4hee

taglist:

@shawnyle @baekxo07 @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @shanb1n @kaykay11sworld @starfallia @blank-velvet @nctislifue @avaleyshin @kpopslays @jooniesbears-blog @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @d-dilemma @pinksweetlittlepiano @sweetjaemss @yangwonx1 @jenniepaii @jakeswsh @brii-sunwoos-version @luvsjwonn @arimiu @sleepingisweak @ninalove323 @bluej4ym @kk-kitten @leesura @oceanyocean @holyfestfire @hooniebaekgu @nikiswifiee @shjsnjkj @loumin908 @nikistar @renne-s2 @pinksweetlittlepiano @srhnyx @farashawhee @iilwji @leov3rse @enhajungwonheart @namjooniecuteboy @realrintaro @kkamismom12 @roslayy @m3wkledreamy @a-warners-girl0-0 @cherrykissesu

[ekybrini]

slipping through my fingers| JACK HUGHES

— ⟡ summary | in which y/n and Jake childhood best friends who've always had something there for each other. But once jack gets drafted everything changed for both of them.

— ⟡ warnings | none (that I know of)

— ⟡ word count | 17.8k (GUYS IM SORRY)

— ⟡ gabs note | hiii!!! im so excited to finally start writing again! I apologizer if this seems rushed. also this is EXTREMELY INACCURATE!!! please don't think this is literal, I don't know how some of these things work. also i apologize if this is cringe bc I CANNOT write romance for the life of me. I'm currently on spring break so I'll be trying to take advantage of being able to write a few things! if anyone wants to request or suggest anything don't hesitate to go into my inbox . i'll try to get to it and write it as soon as I can :) after spring break I may be a little inactive as i'm trying to lock in, in some of my classes before the semesters is over (ap econ and living earth are actually kicking my ass)

⟡ slipping through your fingers | jack hughes (jacks pov)

Part two

You've known Jack since you were kids. Backyard games of street hockey, summer nights spent on the lake, and watching him skate around with his brothers. you were always there. best friends through and through. 

The first time you met Jack, you were about 10 years old. You had just moved into the neighborhood and the first thing you noticed was the street hockey that was happening right outside of your house. The kids from the neighborhood were scattered in every direction, sticks raised, yelling at each other. The one who caught your attention right away was the kid with the wild hair, darting around the group with such speed that it was almost impossible to keep up. He made it look effortless. He, of course, was jack. 

You were lonely at first, standing awkwardly by the curb or watching the game through your bedroom window . Jack, always the curious one, had spotted you one day as you were sitting on the curb and skated over with a big grin.

"You gonna watch all day, or do you wanna join us?" he’d asked, not missing a beat, despite being out of breath. his eyes were full of that contagious energy.

You'd hesitated, feeling unsure. “I don’t know. I’m not really good at this... I’ve never really played before.”

"Come on! I’ll teach you," Jack insisted. "It’s easy, you just gotta push the puck this way, and then..." He demonstrated, sending the puck flying past you. "See? Just like that!"

It wasn’t perfect, but you tried. And Jack, always encouraging, cheered you on even as you missed the puck completely a few times. "Don’t worry. You’ll get it. It’s all about having fun."

From that moment on, you and Jack were inseparable. Summer after summer, it was the same routine. Jack, with his scruffy hair and infectious smile, would be the one to drag you out onto the street, even if you were just coming off a bad day at school or feeling a little down.

One of your favorite memories came when you were both about 12 years old. It was a hot, sticky summer afternoon. Jack, as usual, had the game already set up, calling the shots while the other neighborhood kids were pretending to be superstars in a game that felt far more like a chaotic free for all than a real match.

"You in or what?" Jack shouted, holding out a stick. “This game’s going nowhere without you.”

You rolled your eyes, already seeing the sweat dripping from his forehead, his shirt clinging to his back. "You know, I was just thinking about going inside and having a popsicle."

"Are you really gonna let me down like this?" Jack raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear. “you promised you'd play after school." 

"Fine," you said with a laugh, grabbing the stick. "But this time, I’m definitely winning."

You didn't win, at least not that day, but you had so much fun trying. Jack was so fast, his little tricks and turns keeping you on your toes, but every time he made a move, you were there to give it your best shot. You kept pushing him, running after the puck until the sun dipped below the horizon, and both of you were covered in dirt and sweat, laughing until your stomachs hurt.

That night, you sat side by side on the dock by the lake, feet dangling in the cool water as you two ate ice cream bars. The night was quiet except for the distant croak of frogs. 

“You were so close to getting me,” Jack said between breaths, a playful edge to his voice. He tilted his head back to look at the sky. “You’ll get me next time. Just wait.”

You chuckled, watching him with a teasing smile. "Yeah, sure, Jack. Maybe when I’m 18 and you’ve forgotten how to skate."

Jack laughed loudly, nudging you with his elbow. “Not a chance. I’ll always be better. But hey, I can teach you some moves if you want.”

“Oh, I bet you would,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Teach me how to win, too?”

"Obviously," he said with a grin, though there was a genuine warmth in his eyes. “I’ll make you into a skating legend if that's what you want.”

You didn't know it then, but those summers spent with Jack would become some of the best memories of your life. Even when the seasons changed and the street hockey games moved indoors. Jack’s determination never left. You spent every Saturday watching him at the rink, your nose pressed against the cold glass as he glided across the ice, his stick flashing, eyes full of focus. He was good. Too good, in fact. And with every game, the crowd cheered louder with his dreams growing bigger.

⟡

By the time you and Jack hit your early teens, things start to feel different. It’s not obvious at first just a lingering glance here, a nervous laugh there. Jack’s still Jack competitive, loud, always pulling you into whatever chaos he’s creating. But sometimes, when his hand brushes against yours, or when he looks at you a second too long after you’ve made a joke, it feels like something is shifting beneath the surface. You notice it, even if you don’t understand it yet.

The way he seems to notice you more, how he’s always trying to catch your eye in a group conversation, how his voice drops just a little when he says your name. It’s subtle, and you try to ignore it. He’s your best friend, right? Nothing has changed between you two. You’re still the same, pulling pranks on each other, laughing at dumb things, challenging each other to stupid games on long summer afternoons.

But the moments keep building like when he reaches across the table to grab something and his fingers graze the back of your hand, leaving a warmth that lingers far longer than it should. Or when you catch him staring at you when you’re talking, and his expression shifts just a fraction of something unreadable there for a brief second before he masks it with a grin.

And then there are those times when the air feels too quiet. Like when you’re lying next to each other on the grass, watching the stars, and the silence stretches between you two in a way it never has before. It’s not comfortable anymore, this space. It’s heavy.

You’re 14 when you notice it for real. You’re both sitting on the dock, summer sun dipping low behind the trees, casting everything in a golden haze. Jack’s freshly showered from practice, hair still damp, the scent of soap and fresh air clinging to him. You’re half listening to him ramble on about a play he’s been trying to perfect, his words weaving in and out of the soft, distant hum of the lake’s waves against the dock.

But something in the air is different. It feels thicker. The kind of tension you get when you can’t tell whether the storm is coming, or if it’s already here and you’re just waiting for it to break. You can feel the weight of the evening sun on your skin, but your heart feels heavy, like it’s pounding against your ribs, a rhythm you’re trying to ignore.

“You’re not even listening,” he accuses, nudging you with his knee, and you startle, realizing you haven’t heard a word he’s said for the last few minutes.

“I’m listening,” you argue, even though you weren’t.

Jack raises an eyebrow, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “No, you’re not. You’ve been all quiet. What's up with you?”

You scoff, trying to brush it off. “Me? You’re the one who’s weird,” you tease, attempting to lighten the mood, but your words feel hollow, even to you.

He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he studies you, his expression more serious than usual. His gaze shifts from your face to your hands, and then back to your eyes like he’s trying to figure something out that you aren’t even aware of.

“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugs, leaning back on his elbows, staring out across the lake with a far-off look in his eyes. “Or maybe it’s just us.”

The words hang in the air heavy with meaning you don’t fully understand. You freeze trying to process what he’s said. It isn’t just the words, it's the way he said them. The tone in his voice is softer than usual almost uncertain. There’s something fragile in his eyes, like he’s letting a piece of himself slip past you hoping you’ll catch it, but not quite trusting you to. You don’t know how to respond.

You try to shake off the discomfort. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jack glances at you, his lips quivering at the edges, but there’s a heaviness in his gaze now. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “Just growing up.” He pauses, his voice quieter now almost too soft for the space between you two. He looks at you then, really looks at you his eyes searching for something in yours like he’s asking a question that doesn’t have an easy answer. Something you’re not ready to answer not sure you even can.

You want to say something to reach out and close that space but you can’t find the words. Everything that’s been building between you two feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something unspoken. And the closer Jack gets to this new world he’s creating for himself this future that’s already starting to pull him away from you the more it feels like you’re both standing on the precipice of it.

You don’t have an answer, so you reach over and grab his hand. It’s instinctual, a reflex more than anything else. His fingers slide easily between yours, like they’ve always belonged there. It’s familiar, comforting even. But there’s something different in the way he holds your hand this time. He doesn’t let go immediately like he always does. He holds on for just a moment longer, and in that brief pause, the weight of it hits you.

His gaze drops to your joined hands, and you see a flicker in his eyes something unreadable, maybe even a little vulnerable before he looks back up at you. The quiet between you two stretches longer than it should, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the summer air, or because of the uncertainty that’s silently wrapping itself around both of you.

“I think we’ll figure it out,” you say softly, trying to anchor this moment, even though the ground beneath you feels like it’s shifting.

Jack’s smile is small, unsure. It’s not his usual confident grin, but it’s there. Barely, but it’s there. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Not yet. 

You don’t know what “figuring it out” means, or if you even can figure it out. All you know is that in this moment, with the sun setting behind the trees and the sound of water lapping against the dock beneath you, everything feels poised on the edge of something you don’t understand.

But you’re scared that the moment you try to reach for it, Jack might pull away.

⟡

It’s late, the fire has burned down to a few glowing embers, and the crickets are the only sound beside the occasional splash of water against the dock. You’re sitting with Jack, your legs hanging over the side, toes brushing the cool surface of the lake. The night is quiet, almost too quiet, and for the first time in a long time, there’s a distance between you that wasn’t there before.

Jack’s usually carefree, his humor quick, his energy contagious. But tonight, he’s different. He’s quieter, eyes lost somewhere beyond the horizon. You’ve known him long enough to know when something’s off.

"Jack, you okay?" you ask, not pushing, just asking.

"Do you ever feel like things are changing?" His voice is low, almost hesitant, and you turn to look at him, your heart skipping a beat.

You nod slowly, sensing that this conversation is heading somewhere you’ve both been avoiding for too long. "Yeah, I’ve been feeling it." You pause, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you really see him. His face, the way his eyes linger on you, the way his lips part like he’s about to say something more. It’s all so familiar, and yet, everything feels new. "It’s been hard to ignore."

Jack exhales sharply, as if he’s been holding his breath. He leans back, letting his head rest against the wood of the dock, looking up at the stars above. "I’ve been trying to figure it out. For a while now. What’s going on between us."

You swallow, the weight of his words settling in your chest. Your voice is barely a whisper when you respond. "What do you mean?"

Jack doesn’t look at you right away, but you see his jaw tense, like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he glances over at you, his gaze intense. "I think I’ve been avoiding it. The way things have felt. I’ve always known you meant a lot to me. But it’s more than that now. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it."

Your heart races. This isn’t just a fleeting moment, this is him, telling you exactly what you’ve been feeling. Your stomach flips as the words finally hit you.

"I’ve been feeling it too," you admit, your voice steady but your pulse thundering in your ears. "It’s different now, Jack. And I can’t pretend it’s not."

There’s a long silence between you two as the words settle in the space around you. You both know it’s out there now the truth that neither of you could avoid forever. The air feels thick, charged with everything you’ve been holding back.

Jack’s gaze softens as he turns fully toward you. He reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. "I’ve tried not to think about it, but it’s impossible," he admits, his thumb tracing along the back of your hand. "I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of you as just my best friend. And now I don’t know how to go back."

You feel your breath catch in your throat. This is it. The thing you’ve both been dancing around for so long, the thing neither of you knew how to say. But now, here it is, raw and real.

"I don’t want to go back," you say, your voice soft but certain. "I’ve felt the same way, Jack. For a while now."

"You know, I keep thinking back to when we were kids," he says quietly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. "Back when things were simpler. We used to hang out, play hockey, talk about everything and nothing. I always thought that was enough."

You smile, remembering those simpler times. "It was enough. It still is."

Jack laughs under his breath, but there’s something different in it. "Yeah. But now... I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about how things feel between us lately. And I don’t know how to handle it."

Your heart picks up a little pace, and you look at him, feeling a shift in the air between you two. It’s subtle, but it's there. His eyes are locked on you now, and the usual teasing glint is gone.

"I think I’ve known for a while," you admit, voice barely above a whisper. "That things have changed. That maybe… we’ve changed."

Jack’s gaze softens, and for a second, everything feels like it’s falling into place, like the puzzle pieces are finally lining up. "I’ve been thinking about it too," he says, his voice low. "And I don’t know if I’m ready for this to be weird between us. I don’t want it to be weird."

Your stomach flips at the vulnerability in his voice. "I don’t think it has to be. It doesn’t have to be weird, Jack."

He looks at you for a long moment, and you can tell he’s weighing his next words carefully. He reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and that simple touch feels like the universe’s nudge, reminding you that things have always been easy with him. There’s no pretending with Jack. There’s never been any pretending.

"I guess we’ve always been able to figure things out," Jack says, his voice steady now. "And maybe this is just… one of those times."

You nod, your chest tight as you try to put into words what you’ve been feeling for so long. But nothing really needs to be said. This moment, this quiet understanding between you two, is enough.

Jack leans in just a little, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, but not enough to cross the final line. His gaze flickers between your eyes, lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes again, as if he’s waiting for something. The space between you both seems impossibly small, charged with everything that’s unsaid.

You can’t deny it anymore the way your heart races in your chest, the way your breath feels shallow, as if you’ve been holding it in all this time. This moment, this change between you, feels like it could either break everything or put it all back together.

His hand hovers just inches from yours, like he’s unsure whether to close the distance, like he’s waiting for you to decide. The air is thick with the weight of it. You’ve both danced around this for so long, carefully, quietly, but now it feels like everything is teetering on the edge. One move, one step, and it’ll change everything.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” Jack’s voice is almost a whisper, his usual teasing gone. There’s something softer in the way he says it, like he’s genuinely asking, genuinely uncertain for the first time.

You laugh quietly, but it doesn’t feel like the teasing kind of laugh you’re used to. It’s shaky, full of nerves. “No... Just a little confused, I guess. Not sure if this is all too much.”

Jack shifts closer, and his hand brushes against yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes. He doesn’t look away now, and neither do you. His breath is slow, steady, and in the stillness, you hear his heart beating in time with yours.

“I’m not sure either,” he admits, his voice low. “But I think I’ve known for a while… I don’t think we can keep pretending things are the same. I can’t. And I’m not sure what will happen next, but I know I don’t want to screw it up.”

You swallow, your own uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. Everything that’s been left unsaid finally hangs in the air between you two, heavy and undeniable. The fear of what could change, of what could be lost, and the quiet hope that maybe just maybe it could work.

"Jack…” You start to say something, anything, but the words stick in your throat. You want to say that you’ve been feeling it too, that you’re terrified of losing this, of messing it all up. But the weight of it all is too much. So instead, you just shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the uncertainty in your chest. “I don’t know what happens next either.”

You hold his gaze for a beat longer, everything inside you pulling toward him, wanting to close the space between you both. And with that final breath, that quiet understanding, you realize it doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be figured out right now.

You lean in the rest of the way, tilting your head slightly, and then Jack’s lips meet yours.

It’s nothing like you expected. It’s soft, hesitant at first, like you both are testing the waters. But it’s real. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally on the same page. It’s not about the future or the fear of change it’s just about right now, and the way everything feels when it’s just the two of you.

When you pull away, there’s a breathless pause, but it’s not awkward. It’s not forced. It’s just you, and him, and everything that’s been building between you finally making sense.

Jack’s forehead rests gently against yours. His eyes are still closed, and there’s a quiet smile playing on his lips. “I think I could get used to this,” he says, voice low, almost like he’s speaking to himself.

You let out a soft laugh, the tension between you both easing, and for the first time, it feels like you don’t need to say anything more. You both know. It’s not perfect, it’s not figured out yet but it’s real, and maybe that’s enough for now.

⟡

It’s almost midnight when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You’re half asleep, barely registering the sound until it buzzes again. You squint at the screen, the glow too harsh in the dark room. It’s a text from Jack. “are you up?” 

You rub your eyes and sit up the sleepiness fading as you type back. “yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?its midnight.” The dots appear and disappear. Then nothing. You frown, already knowing where this is going. “ want me to come over?” This time, the dots stay. “You don’t have too, just want to talk to you.”

You slip out of bed, grabbing a sweatshirt and slipping on your shoes without even thinking about it. Your house is quiet as you head out the back door and cut across the yard. Jack’s house is familiar, the kind of place you could walk to blindfolded. The back door is unlocked like it always is.

You find him on the couch, the TV on low, playing some old hockey highlights. His head is tipped back against the cushion but his eyes are open dark circles shadowing his face. He looks up when he hears you, his expression softening in a way that makes your heart ache a little.

“You didn’t have to come,” Jack says, sitting up.

“You knew I would,” you reply, kicking off your shoes and sitting down beside him. Your knee bumps against his. He’s in sweats and an old usa hockey hoodie, and his hair’s still damp from a shower. He looks tired.

Jack doesn’t say anything for a long time. His eyes stay on the screen, but you can tell he’s not really watching. The hum of the commentary blends into the background. You wait, not pushing you’ve always known how to give him space when he needs it.

“I can’t sleep,” he says finally, voice low. His knee bounces restlessly. “I keep thinking about the combine.”

You lean back against the couch, watching the screen as a highlight reel of some playoff game flickers by. “What about it?”

Jack sighs. “Everything. The tests. The interviews. The scouts. If I screw up, it’s going to be everywhere.” His hand runs through his hair, leaving it messy. “I mean, I’ve trained for this my whole life, right? But now that it’s actually here I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to screw up,” you say softly.

Jack lets out a hollow laugh. “Yeah? What if I do?”

You nudge his leg with your foot. “You won’t. But even if you did it wouldn’t change anything. Not with me.”

Jack’s eyes flick toward you, guarded but searching. He’s quiet for a beat. Then, so quietly you almost don’t catch it, “It’d change everything else.”

You shift toward him, turning so your knee presses more firmly against his. “Jack, you’ve worked your ass off for this. One bad day at the combine isn’t going to erase years of training and games and scouts already knowing you’re good enough.”

Jack’s jaw tightens, his eyes falling to his hands. His thumb rubs absently along the inside of his palm. “Yeah, but what if I’m not enough?”

You don’t hesitate. You reach over, lacing your fingers through his. His hand is warm, his skin rough from years of hockey sticks and gloves. He tenses for half a second, then relaxes into the touch.

“You’re enough,” you say, quiet but steady. “You’ve always been enough, Jack. Even if you didn’t have hockey.”

Jack’s eyes lift to meet yours, wide and a little raw. His thumb grazes the side of your hand, slow and deliberate.

“You really believe that?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Jack’s mouth curves into the smallest smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s something. His gaze drops back to the screen, though his hand stays in yours, his thumb running over your knuckles.

For a while, neither of you speak. The silence isn’t uncomfortable it’s the kind of quiet that feels like home. Jack’s breathing evens out, his knee resting against yours. The highlights on the screen blur together.

“Stay?” Jack asks after a long moment. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant.

You squeeze his hand. “Yeah.”

Jack shifts, leaning back against the couch. You lean into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder. His hand stays tangled with yours, his thumb brushing back and forth along your knuckles in a steady rhythm. Slowly, the tension in his body eases.

“Thanks,” Jack murmurs. His head tips toward yours, his breath warm against your hair.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you say, eyes drifting shut. “Just remember this. When it gets hard, when the pressure’s too much, remember you don’t have to do it alone.”

Jack’s hand tightens around yours, his breath catching for half a second. Then he relaxes.

“I’ll remember,” he promises, voice low and sure.

You smile, your heart steady now as you let the sound of his breathing and the flicker of the TV lull you toward sleep. You know there’s still a long road ahead, the combine, the draft, Jack’s rookie year  but for now, this is enough.

It’s late afternoon when you find Jack on the ice, alone.

The rink is almost empty and quite the kind of quiet that makes the sound of skates cutting into the ice seem louder. Jack’s in a plain grey hoodie, a puck sliding back and forth between his stick blade as he moves through the neutral zone. His head is down, shoulders tense, and even from the stands, you can tell he’s overthinking it. His movements are sharp, almost mechanical like he’s trying too hard to be perfect.

You sit down on the bleachers, the cold from the rink seeping through your jeans. Jack’s been like this all week quiet, short answers, disappearing for extra hours at the rink. You didn’t have to ask why. The NHL Combine is in two weeks. The pressure’s been building, and Jack’s not the type to admit when it’s too much.

A sharp slap of the puck against the glass pulls you from your thoughts. Jack’s skating toward the blue line, his stick dragging behind him as he breathes heavily, a little unsteady. He circles back toward center ice, but his stride falters slightly just enough for you to notice.

“You’re overthinking it,” you call out, standing.

Jack glances up, his expression closed off but his eyes soften when he sees you. He coasts toward the boards, resting his forearms against the top. His breath comes out in sharp clouds of condensation.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says but there’s no bite to his words.

You shrug. “Figured you’d need moral support.”

Jack huffs a soft laugh but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His gaze drops to the ice. “Not really playing like someone who deserves it.”

You step closer, your hands resting on the edge of the boards. “Jack, you’re allowed to have a bad practice.”

Jack shakes his head. “Not now. Not this close.” His hands flex around his stick. “I can’t screw this up.”

“You won’t.”

Jack’s eyes flick toward you. There’s something guarded in his expression the same look he gets when he’s trying not to show how much it’s getting to him. His eyes are dark under the shadows of his helmet.

“You don’t know that,” he says quietly.

You swallow, searching for the right words. “Yeah, I do.”

Jack exhales sharply, his gaze drifting to the ice. He’s quiet for a long time before he speaks again, his voice low. “What if I’m not good enough?”

Your chest tightens at the vulnerability in his voice. He’s always been confident, cocky, even but this is different. This is the fear he doesn’t let other people see.

You rest your hand over his where it grips the top of the boards. His fingers twitch beneath yours, but he doesn’t pull away. “Jack” Your voice softens. “You’ve been working for this since you were a kid. One bad practice isn’t going to change the fact that you belong there.”

Jack’s mouth pulls into a thin line. His eyes stay locked on the ice.

“You know that, right?” you press.

Jack’s jaw tenses. He exhales through his nose and finally meets your eyes. “Yeah. I know.” But his voice is tight, like he’s still trying to convince himself.

You squeeze his hand lightly. “Come on. Take the helmet off. Let’s reset.”

Jack hesitates for a second before unbuckling his chin strap. His hair falls into messy waves as he pulls the helmet off, and you smile despite yourself.

“There’s the Jack I know,” you say softly.

Jack’s mouth tugs at the corner, the smallest hint of a smile breaking through the tension in his face. He sets the helmet down on the boards and rests his forehead against the glass, his eyes closed for a long moment. His breath fogs up the glass in front of him.

“Why are you so calm about this?” Jack murmurs.

You smile, even though he can’t see it. “Because I know you. And I know you’re going to be fine.”

Jack’s eyes open. He tilts his head toward you, his cheek pressed against the glass. His gaze lingers on you longer than it probably should. His expression softens, his mouth curving into something more familiar less guarded.

“You always know what to say,” Jack says quietly.

You shrug. “It’s part of the job description.”

Jack’s mouth tugs at the corner. He leans back from the glass, turning toward you. “And what job is that?”

“girlfriend” you say lightly, even though the words feel heavier than they should.

Jack’s gaze drops to your mouth for half a second before he catches himself. shaking his head slightly. “You’ve been overpaid.”

You laugh. “I don’t know. Pretty sure I’ve earned it.”

Jack’s hand slides from the boards, brushing against yours as he steps back onto the ice. The contact is brief a split second  but it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

He skates backward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Stay?”

You smile. “Always.”

Jack nods, his jaw unclenching slightly. His shoulders relax as he turns and skates toward the far side of the ice. He moves differently now, smoother, looser. It’s not perfect, but it’s him.

⟡

Jack’s in Buffalo for the Combine. He’d been gone for almost a week now, thrown into a blur of interviews, medical tests, and physical evaluations. You’d been following the coverage clips of him flashing across social media, a quick shot of him stepping into the arena or walking down a hallway with other top prospects. He looked calm on the surface, but you knew better.  The absence of him is starting to feel like a hollow ache beneath your ribs. You’ve talked to him every day, quick texts in the morning, rushed calls at night  but it’s not the same as having him there next to you. He’s exhausted you can tell even through the phone but he’s not the type to admit when it’s too much.

You’re half asleep when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, the glow from the screen sharp against the dark. You blink, rubbing your eyes as you reach for it for the sixth time this week knowing it was a text from Jack “are you awake?”

You sit up, sleep slipping away as you type back. “yeah. What's wrong? it’s late.” The typing bubbles appear, then disappear. Then nothing. You frown, already feeling the tightness in your chest. “want me to call?” A pause. “I just need to hear your voice.” Jack replied. 

You hit the call button without even looking at his message. Jack answers on the second ring. “Hey,” you say softly. “Hey,” Jack’s voice is rough, low. He sounds tired.

“Did you just finish?”

“Yeah.” He exhales sharply. “Got back to my room like five minutes ago.”

“What happened?”

Jack lets out a humorless laugh. “Where do I start?” His voice is tight, and you picture the way he probably looks right now sprawled out on the hotel bed, arm draped over his eyes. “The bike test was brutal. My legs were shaking so bad I thought I was going to fall off.”

You wince. “That bad?”

“They crank up the resistance until you physically can’t pedal anymore,” Jack says. “I could barely stand afterward.” Your chest tightens. “Jack” he cuts you off. “And the VO2 max test?” Jack groans. “I thought I was gonna puke. I was seeing spots by the end.” You frown. “Did anyone else struggle that much?”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be better than that.” His voice sharpens. “I can’t afford to screw this up.”

“You didn’t,” you say quickly. “You weren’t there,” Jack says, his tone edged with something close to frustration. But then his breath catches, and his voice softens. “Sorry. I didn’t mean”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt gently. “What else happened?” Jack sighs. “Wingate test. They make you sprint all out on the bike for 30 seconds. My legs were already toast, so I tanked it.”

“Jack” you say once again, getting cut off “And the long jump?” He laughs under his breath, but there’s no humor in it. “I swear I’ve never jumped that short in my life.”

“Did Quinn do better?” you ask carefully. “Of course he did,” Jack mutters. “The scouts loved him.” Your heart aches at the sharpness in his tone. You know how much Jack admires Quinn, but that admiration is tangled up with the constant pressure to keep up.

“And then,” Jack’s voice lowers, frustration leaking through, “they threw me into interviews while I could barely breathe. One scout asked if I thought I deserved to go first overall.” Your mouth tightens. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Another one asked if I think I’m better than Quinn.” You sit up straighter. “What the hell?” Jack mutters “I didn’t even know what to say,” His voice is low and tight. “I think I screwed it up.”

“You didn’t,” you say firmly. Jack doesn’t respond right away. You hear the rustling of sheets, the muffled sound of the TV in the background probably an old hockey game. “I don’t know,” Jack murmurs. “I need to be better.”

“Jack.” Your voice softens. “You’ve done enough. You’ve been working for this since you were a kid. You’re too hard on yourself” Jack’s quiet for a moment. Then, so soft you almost miss it “What if it’s not enough?” Your chest tightens. This is the fear he doesn’t let other people see.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Close your eyes.” Jack’s quiet for a second. “What?” 

“Just trust me.” 

A long breath. “Okay.”

“You’re on the ice,” you say. “Just you. The rink’s empty.” Jack’s breath steadies. “You’ve got the puck,” you continue. “Skating down center ice. No pressure, no scouts, no cameras. Just you.”Jack hums quietly, like he can almost see it.“You make the shot,” you say. “Bar down. Clean.” Jack exhales. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “And you don’t even need to look, because you already know it’s in.”There’s a long stretch of quiet on the other end of the line. Then, so soft you almost miss it “I wish you were here.”

“I know,” you whisper, throat tightening. “Me too.” Jack sighs, and you hear the rustling of sheets as he shifts. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re not going to find out,” you say, trying to sound light, but it comes out more fragile than you mean it to. Jack’s quiet for a long time. You think he might have fallen asleep until you hear him murmur, “You’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.” You press the phone closer to your ear, even though it won’t bring him any closer. “You’ve got this,” you whisper. “You’re going to be fine.”

Jack breathes out, low and even. “Stay on the phone with me?”

“Yeah,” you say, curling into your pillow. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jack’s quiet for a while after that, but you don’t hang up. You stay there, listening to the sound of his breathing as it evens out, until the line finally goes quiet and you know he’s asleep. You don’t hang up. Not yet.

⟡

Jack’s been quiet all morning. His usual easy smile is nowhere to be found, replaced by a tight line of tension in his jaw. He’s been bouncing his knee relentlessly, his leg jittering under the table during breakfast at the hotel. He barely touched his food, pushing scrambled eggs around his plate until Quinn took it away and told him to stop torturing it. Now, he’s sitting next to you on the edge of the bed, his head tipped back against the wall, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. The hotel room is bright from the mid-morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains, but it feels too quiet  too still  like the entire day is holding its breath.

Jack’s name has been everywhere since the Combine. Every hockey account, every sports network, every mock draft all saying the same thing. First overall. Franchise player. Generational talent. He should be used to it by now, but it feels different this time. Closer. Like the weight of it all is pressing down on his chest. And you feel it too, even from miles away. You saw it during the Combine  the way he tensed when people mentioned the draft, how he downplayed his scores and his interviews even when you knew he’d crushed them. Jack’s always been good at brushing things off, but this feels different. Bigger. Like it’s not just about hockey anymore. It’s about living up to something.

The draft isn’t until later tonight, but the weight of it is already pressing down. Jack’s been working toward this moment his whole life, the moment his name is called, the moment his future in the NHL becomes real and now that it’s finally here, it’s like he can’t figure out how to breathe through it.

You shift closer until your knee bumps his. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Jack’s eyes slide toward you, dark under the shadows of his lashes. He huffs out a breath. “How am I supposed to not think about it?” His voice is quiet, frayed at the edges.

You reach for his hand, your fingers slipping between his. He’s warm always is, but his hand is stiff, tense. “I don’t know. Maybe stop overthinking it.”

Jack lets out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. His gaze drifts toward the window, but you can tell he’s not really seeing it. His mind is already at Rogers Arena, already running through every possible outcome. He’s been carrying the weight of this for months the expectations, the pressure, the comparisons to Quinn, to his dad and you know it’s only gotten heavier.

“Jack.” You squeeze his hand. He doesn’t look at you right away, but when he does, his eyes are wide, a little raw around the edges. You offer him a small smile. “You’ve got this.”

Jack’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And what if I don’t?”

“You will.” You don’t hesitate, don’t even think about it. You just know. Jack’s been skating since before he could walk. He’s trained for this put in the work, put in the hours. He’s ready. Even if he can’t see it right now.

Jack’s gaze stays on you, his brow furrowing slightly. His hand tightens around yours. “I’m scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shift closer until your shoulder presses against his. “That’s normal.”

Jack’s eyes darken. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“You are.”

Jack swallows hard, his jaw working. He looks away, his throat bobbing as he tries to steady his breathing. You can feel the tension radiating off of him, the way his chest rises and falls too quickly. His thumb rubs absently against the back of your hand.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” you say softly. “Even if you don’t go first. Even if it doesn’t go the way you expect  you’ll still have hockey. You’ll still have me.”

Jack’s breath stutters. He turns his head slightly, his cheek brushing against your hair. “You mean that?”

You lift your head and meet his gaze. “Of course I do.”

Jack’s hand slides from your hand to your knee, his fingers curling around it like he’s grounding himself there. His eyes search yours, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the room shifts. The nerves are still there, the pressure, the uncertainty but some of the tension in his face softens. His eyes flick toward your mouth, then back to your eyes. He exhales slowly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you say, just as softly.

Jack’s mouth tugs at the corner. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Promise?”

You smile, your hand lifting to his jaw. “Promise.”

Jack lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes for a moment, his hand tightening on your knee. The quiet settles around you both, not the heavy kind, not the tense kind  just quiet.

“Jack?” Quinn’s voice breaks the silence, followed by a knock at the door. “We’ve gotta go soon.”

Jack sighs. He lifts his head, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer before he pulls away. “Yeah, okay.”

Jack stands, adjusting his shirt and brushing his hands down his pants. His gaze flicks toward you, hesitant. “You’re coming with us, right?”

You stand too, straightening his collar. “Obviously.”

Jack’s mouth curves into something close to a real smile, small but genuine. He takes your hand again, linking your fingers as he leads you toward the door.

The car ride to Rogers Arena is quiet. Jack sits next to you in the backseat, his knee bouncing, his fingers tapping against his thigh. He’s wearing a fitted suit, his hair styled but still a little messy at the top. You can tell he’s trying not to overthink it, but the tension in his jaw gives him away.

Quinn and Luke sit in the back of the car, phone in their hand, scrolling through Twitter. The whole car feels charged, the anticipation building the closer you get to the arena. When you pull up, Jack hesitates for half a second before stepping out. His hand brushes against yours as you follow him out of the car.

Inside, the energy is palpable. The arena is packed with media, fans, scouts, the low hum of conversations mixing with the occasional burst of camera flashes. Jack tugs at the cuff of his jacket, his mouth pulling into a thin line. His eyes flick toward you.

You slip your hand into his, squeezing gently. “Deep breath,” you say.

Jack’s jaw relaxes slightly. He squeezes your hand back. His eyes linger on you for a beat before he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Quinn steps up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this”

Jack’s mouth twitches. He looks toward the draft stage, toward the rows of seats, the cameras, the scouts and then back at you. His hand tightens around yours.

“You’re with me, right?” Jack asks quietly.

You smile. “Always.”

Jack breathes out. And this time, when he looks toward the stage, the tension in his jaw fades just a little.

Jack’s heart is hammering. It’s too loud in here the buzz of conversation, the hum of the arena speakers, the occasional burst of laughter from a family. His suit jacket feels too tight across his shoulders, his tie choking him a little more with each second that passes. His name has been circling the draft floor for months, repeated on every broadcast and in every article first overall, franchise player, generational talent  but none of it feels real right now. It feels heavy. Like the weight of the entire league is resting on his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

He shifts in his seat, his hand resting against his thigh, and feels your fingers slip between his. His head turns toward you automatically. You’re sitting beside him, close enough that your knee is pressed against his. Your hand is steady, your thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping you until you adjust your hand slightly, your grip soft but certain.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, low enough that only he can hear. Jack breathes out shakily. “Am I?” You smile soft, sure. “Yeah. You are.”

Jack’s gaze drops to the floor, his thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. He can feel the pulse there, steady beneath his touch. His heart’s not steady. It’s racing. He doesn’t know if it’ll settle until this is over until he hears his name.

Quinn is watching him. He’s sitting straight in his chair, hands resting on his thighs, but his eyes are soft when they meet Jack’s. “You’ve got this,” Quinn says quietly. Jack’s mouth twitches. He starts to nod, but then Luke leans across from Quinn. 

“Yeah,” Luke adds, his grin lopsided, a little nervous but bright. “And if you don’t, you can always blame it on Quinn.”

Quinn rolls his eyes. 

Jack huffs a soft laugh, but it fades quickly. His gaze shifts toward the stage, where the Devils’ management team is already gathering. The nerves coil tighter in his chest. His hand tightens around yours.

“You’re with me, right?” Jack asks quietly. 

You don’t even hesitate. “Always.”

Jack’s eyes soften, some of the tension fading from his expression. He breathes out and shifts closer, his knee pressing into yours beneath the table. He doesn’t have time to say anything else before the commissioner steps up to the microphone.

Jack’s stomach drops. The noise in the arena swells as the camera swings toward the Devils’ table. The commissioner is still talking, but Jack barely hears it over the blood rushing in his ears. His legs feel locked beneath the table. His chest is tight.

“And with the first overall pick, the New Jersey Devils are proud to select from the US National Team Development Program… Jack Hughes.”

Your hand squeezes his.

Jack exhales. He stands on shaky legs as Quinn claps him on the back, Luke grinning wide as he jumps up to hug him. “Dude!” Luke laughs, his arms tight around Jack’s waist. Quinn pulls them both in, his head knocking against Jack’s shoulder. Jack’s laugh comes out a little breathless.

“Go get your jersey,” Quinn says, his voice thick with pride.

Jack’s hand is still locked with yours as he turns toward you. His expression is soft, his eyes dark and bright all at once. “You’re coming with me after this, right?”

You smile. “Try and stop me.”

Jack hesitates for half a second, then leans in. He kisses you quickly  just a press of his lips against your cheek  but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles once more before he finally lets go and steps away.

Jack walks toward the stage, his heart still pounding but his legs moving steady beneath him. He can feel Quinn and Luke’s eyes on him, your smile burned into the back of his mind. He shakes hands with the commissioner, pulls on the Devils jersey, and lifts the hat onto his head. Cameras flash. The noise swells. His chest is tight again  but this time, it’s not nerves. It’s something else. Something warmer.

He looks back toward the floor, toward the row of seats where Quinn, Luke, and you are sitting. You’re still watching him. Your hand rests against your heart. Quinn’s arms are crossed, smiling like he knew this would happen all along. Luke is grinning wide, already pointing toward the Devils logo on Jack’s chest.

Jack breathes out. And this time, he smiles.

After the photos and the handshakes, Jack ushered toward the media pit. Questions are thrown at him from every angle about expectations, about his future with the Devils, about being a franchise player. He answers them as best as he can, his gaze flicking toward the crowd every so often, searching for you. When it’s over, the team staff directs him toward the tunnel, and he barely makes it a few steps before he hears someone yell his name.

“Jack!”

He turns just in time to see you barreling toward him, arms outstretched. Jack’s barely able to brace himself before you crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms come up automatically, locking around your waist. You’re laughing and crying at the same time, your face buried in his shoulder. Jack breathes out, his chin resting on top of your head.

“You did it,” you whisper.

Jack’s arms tighten around you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could’ve,” you mumble, pulling back enough to look at him. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

Jack’s gaze drops to your mouth. His hands settle at your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly over the hem of your sweater. His chest is still pounding, but this feels steadier somehow. Grounding.

“Hey,” Quinn’s voice cuts in. Jack glances up to see Quinn and Luke standing nearby, Luke practically vibrating with excitement. Quinn’s got that proud but pretending to be casual look on his face.

Luke steps forward first, grinning. “Dude! First overall!” He throws his arms around Jack’s waist, nearly knocking him over. Jack laughs, ruffling Luke’s hair.

“Couldn’t have done it without you either,” Jack says.

Luke pulls back, his smile wide. Quinn rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t fade. “Congrats, Jack.” He steps in, pulling Jack into a one armed hug and clapping him on the back. “Knew you had it in you.”

Jack’s throat feels tight. He pulls back and looks between Quinn, Luke, and you. His family. His people. His hand finds yours again, his fingers threading through yours like it’s instinct. Your gaze softens, and Jack feels his heartbeat finally settle.

“Come on,” Quinn says, nodding toward the tunnel. “Let’s go celebrate.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Let’s go.”

⟡

It’s been a whirlwind since the draft. Jack signed his contract with the Devils two weeks ago, and now he’s leaving to New Jersey for rookie camp. Jack’s flight to New Jersey is early. Too early. You’re still wrapped in blankets on the couch when he stands in the doorway, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His Devils hat is pulled low over his eyes, casting a shadow across his face. His mouth pulls into a thin line as he looks at you, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

“I should get going,” Jack says quietly.

You push yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you cross the room toward him. “Are you sure you have everything?”

Jack nods, but his gaze stays on the floor. His hand tightens around the strap of his bag. “Yeah.”

You hesitate for half a second before stepping closer. Your arms wrap around his waist, and Jack exhales sharply as he melts into you. His chin rests on top of your head, and his heartbeat thrums against your cheek.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you murmur.

Jack’s hand slides up your back. “It’s not like we’ve never done long distance before.”

“Yeah, but” You trail off, the words sticking in your throat. It feels different this time. You pull back, your hands lingering on the hem of his hoodie. “Just don’t forget about me when you’re a big NHL star.”

Jack’s mouth twitches. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Jack’s eyes soften. He leans down, brushing his nose against yours. “I do.”

You smile, even though your chest feels tight. Jack kisses you softly with a lingering brush of lips  and then pulls back too soon. His hand stays on your waist for an extra second before he steps away, his expression shifting into something steadier, more composed.

“Call me when you land?” you ask.

Jack’s mouth tugs at the corner. “Always.”

You walk him to the door, watching as he disappears down the driveway and into the early morning light. Your chest feels hollow by the time his car pulls away. The silence that follows is heavier than you expect.

You try to keep busy over the next week  spending time with friends, picking up extra shifts but it’s hard to ignore how quiet it feels without Jack around. He calls every night, though, and you fall into a familiar rhythm. Jack fills you in on the details of rookie camp, the fitness tests, the long practices, and the media. He tells you about the other guys, how Nico seems nice, how Bratt’s already chirping at him like they’ve known each other for years. He tells you how much faster the game feels, how much stronger the guys are. You can hear it in his voice, the strain beneath his usual confidence.

“Hard day?” you ask one night, curled up in bed with your phone pressed to your ear.

Jack sighs. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Jack’s quiet for a long moment. “I just don't know. I feel like I’m playing catch up. Like everyone’s two steps ahead.”

“You’ve barely been there for a few days, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack says. “But it’s not supposed to feel this hard.”

“You put too much pressure on yourself.” Jack huffs a soft laugh, but there’s no real humor in it. “It’s kinda hard not to.” You’re quiet for a beat. Then, “You’re not gonna figure it out overnight.”

“I know.”

“But you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Jack doesn’t say anything for a second. Then, quietly, “I hope you’re right.” You close your eyes. “I always am.” Jack’s breath crackles over the line. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“You don’t have to ask.”

Jack’s quiet for another moment. “I love you and I miss you .”

Your heart clenches. “I miss and love you too.”

Jack sighs softly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

You keep the phone pressed to your ear until the line goes quiet.

Jack calls you after his full day of rookie camp, his voice low and tired through the phone. He sounds exhausted, more than you expected. You’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, your knees pulled to your chest, the phone pressed to your ear. 

“Hey,” Jack says, his voice scratchy. “Hey,” you say softly. “How was it?” Jack exhales a sharp breath. “Brutal.”  

“What happened?”  

“Fitness testing.” Jack huffs a soft, humorless laugh. “Like the Combine but worse.”  You sit up a little straighter. “Worse?”  

“Longer. Harder.” Jack’s voice dips lower. “I thought I was ready for it, but I don’t know.” He sounds frustrated, and that’s what gets you. Jack rarely admits when something’s hard. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” you say quietly.  “I don’t know,” Jack says again. “It’s not just the testing. The practices everyone’s so fast. So strong. I’m trying to keep up, but it feels like I’m a step behind.”  

You can almost picture him  sprawled across his bed, running a hand through his hair the way he does when he’s stressed. Your chest tightens. “You’ve been there for what five days?”  

“ a week.”  

“A week” you repeat. “Jack, you need to give yourself some time.”  

“I don’t have time,” Jack says. His voice sharpens, the frustration cracking through. “This is the NHL. Everyone’s watching.” 

You know that’s true you’ve seen the articles, the highlight reels on social media. It’s a lot for anyone especially for Jack, who’s always carried the weight of expectation like it’s part of his DNA.  

“Hey,” you say softly. “You don’t have to figure everything out right away. This isn’t going to be easy it’s not supposed to be. But you wouldn’t be there if you couldn’t handle it.”  

Jack’s quiet for a long moment. Then, barely above a whisper: “I don’t know if I can.” You close your eyes, your heart tightening. “Jack.” 

“I’m serious,” Jack says. His voice cracks a little at the edges. “What if I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am?”  

“You are,” you say immediately. “Jack, you’ve been working toward this your whole life. You belong there.”  

“Do I?” 

“Yes,” you say. “And if you can’t believe that yet let me believe it for you.”  Jack doesn’t answer right away. His breath crackles over the line. “What would I do without you?”  You smile faintly, even though your chest aches. “You’d figure it out.”  

“Maybe,” Jack says. “But I’m glad I don’t have to.”  

Jack starts texting you more after that. Sometimes it’s a quick message in the morning on the ice or a random photo of his new locker with his nameplate above it. Sometimes it’s a rant about drills, or a chirp about one of the guys. Jesper seems to be his favorite target. 

Bratt tripped me in practice today. little rat  

What'd you do? you text back.  

chirped him about his hair  

You can’t help but smile. But there are harder messages too.  

Bag skate this morning. Thought I was going to pass out.  

Coach isn’t happy with me.  

Everyone’s so much stronger. 

You know Jack doesn’t say these things to anyone else. With the media, with his teammates he’s steady. Confident. But with you he lets the cracks show. And when he calls you late at night, his voice low and rough, you know that’s when he’s feeling it the most.  

One night, it’s past midnight when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You’re half asleep, barely registering the sound until it buzzes again. You squint at the screen. Jack.  

“Hey,” you answer, your voice thick with sleep.  “Did I wake you?” Jack asks. “No,” you lie. “What’s wrong?”  

Jack sighs, and you can hear the tension in it. “Nothing.”  You wait. Jack’s quiet for so long you think maybe he’s about to hang up. Then he says, “I just needed to hear your voice.”  

You sit up, rubbing at your eyes. “Rough day?”  

Jack’s breath catches. “Yeah.” 

“What happened?”  

Jack’s quiet for another long moment. “Coach ripped into me.”  

You frown. “Why?”  

“Made a bad play during the scrimmage,” Jack says. “Got caught flat footed on the backcheck. Then I missed the net on a breakaway.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you.”  

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jack says. His voice drops lower, almost shaky. “I’m trying. It’s just everything’s so much faster than I expected. I feel like I’m drowning.”  

“You’re not,” you say quietly. “You’re adjusting.”  

Jack’s breath hitches. “What if I don’t?”  

“You will.”  

Jack doesn’t answer for a long time. You hear rustling on the other end of the line, like he’s lying down. “I miss you,” he says finally.  

Your chest tightens. “I miss you too.”  

Jack’s voice gets softer. “Will you stay on the phone with me? Just for a little while?”  

You slide down beneath the covers, resting your head against the pillow. “Of course.”  

Jack breathes out. “Thanks.”  

You don’t say anything after that. Jack’s breathing evens out eventually, and you think he’s starting to fall asleep when you hear him murmur, barely audible “Love you.”  

You don’t know if he’s even awake enough to remember saying it. But your heart thuds painfully against your ribs.  

“I love you too,” you whisper.

⟡

Jack’s first game in the NHL is at home, and the crowd is louder than he expected. He steps onto the ice at Prudential Center, the Devils logo bright under the lights. The noise is deafening, the kind of sound that hits you square in the chest  and for a second it’s hard to breathe. His legs feel shaky as he skates through warmups, the ice cutting beneath his skates with every push. The energy is electric, but it’s not enough to drown out the knot in his chest. He knows everyone’s watching him, the first overall pick, the franchise’s future. He tries not to think about it but it’s impossible to ignore the weight of it.

You’re watching from Michigan. The game’s on TV in your room, your laptop balanced on your knees. Jack looks smaller on the screen somehow swallowed up by the bright lights and the size of the arena. He’s wearing number 86, and it still feels surreal seeing it on an NHL jersey. He’s buzzing with nerves  you can tell by the way he’s gripping his stick too tightly during warmups. He’s always done that when he’s nervous.

Jack texts you after warmups while the Zamboni is still clearing the ice. “Starting on the second line. My hands are shaking.”

You smile, already typing back. “You’ve got this. Just play your game.”

Jack’s response comes quickly. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“You won’t.” You pause before adding, “But maybe don’t sit next to Nico if you do.”

A minute passes before the dots appear again. “Not funny.”

“A little funny.”

Jack doesn’t respond, but the small, shaky smile he gives the camera when it passes by his bench tells you he saw it.

The game itself is rough. Jack looks fast, quick on his feet, but the Devils’ offense struggles to keep up. He gets knocked down hard in the first period, bouncing off the boards and coming up wincing. He pushes through it, but you can tell he’s frustrated the way he shakes his head after a shift, the way he skates to the bench with his head down. The Devils lose 4-1, and Jack finishes with a minus-two rating. His line gets hemmed in the defensive zone more than once, and even though it’s just one game, the postgame interviews are already talking about whether he can handle the league’s size and speed.

He calls you after the game, his voice flat. “That sucked.”

“You knew it wasn’t going to be easy,” you say softly.

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” Jack mutters. He sighs, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I was minus-two. Do you know how bad that is?”

“Jack”

“Everyone’s already talking about it,” he cuts you off. His voice tightens, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I can’t screw this up” He trails off, his breath shaky.

“You’re not screwing anything up,” you say firmly. “It’s one game.”

“It’s not just one game.” Jack exhales through his nose, and you can hear the tension in it. “This is what I’ve been working toward my whole life. And what if I’m not good enough?”

You close your eyes, pressing your forehead to your hand. “Jack. You are good enough. You belong here.”

Jack’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he says eventually. But he doesn’t sound like he believes it.

The first few weeks are more of the same. Jack gets pushed around a lot, the physicality wearing on him. He’s getting hit hard, knocked off the puck more than he’s used to. He’s fast, but the guys he’s playing against are bigger, more experienced. He’s trying, you can see it but it’s not coming together the way he wants it to.

Your phone buzzes constantly after games. Jack’s name lights up the screen with texts “Minus-three. Fucking embarrassing.” “I can’t score.” “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

You try to reassure him, but the losses are piling up. The Devils are 0-4-2 to start the season, and Jack’s still scoreless. The media’s already running with it  headlines about whether he was overhyped, if he’s too small for the league. Jack tries to brush it off, but you know it’s getting to him.

It’s late one night when he calls you, his voice quiet. “I don’t know how to fix this.” You sit up in bed, clutching the phone to your ear. “You will.” 

Jack doesn’t say anything for a while. “I just” He sighs. “I miss you.”

Your chest tightens. “I miss you too.”

Jack’s breath hitches. “I hate it here,” he says quietly.

Your eyes burn. “I know.”

“I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“You’re not doing this without me,” you whisper.

Jack’s quiet for a long time. His breathing is steady in your ear. Eventually, he says, “I just want to come home.”

You close your eyes, swallowing down the ache in your chest. “I know,” you say softly. “But you can’t.”

Jack doesn’t answer, but you know he’s still there. After a while, his breathing evens out, and you realize he’s fallen asleep on the line. You stay there for a while, the phone pressed to your ear, listening to his quiet breathing.

Jack finally scores his first goal two weeks into the season, a breakaway against Vancouver. Quinn’s on the ice when it happens, and you see the way Quinn hugs him against the glass after the puck crosses the line. Jack looks lighter for a moment, his smile big and bright, but it fades quickly after the game ends. The Devils still lost 5-2.

He calls you that night, and he sounds more tired than happy. “It doesn’t matter if we keep losing,” Jack mutters.

“Yes, it does,” you say. “Jack, you scored. That’s huge.”

Jack sighs. “Yeah.” He’s quiet for a second before adding, “Quinn said you screamed when it went in.”

You laugh. “Maybe.”

Jack’s breath softens. “I miss you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I miss you too.”

Jack’s quiet for a long time before he says, “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”

You don’t know how to answer that. So you don’t.

⟡

Jack’s rookie season should’ve been exciting. It should’ve been everything he’s worked for. Instead, it’s November, and the Devils are on a six-game losing streak. Jack’s gone nine games without a goal, and the media’s not holding back. Every headline is brutal. Every post game interview is worse. He’s not smiling as much anymore. He’s quiet when you call, sometimes too tired to even talk. And when you visit, it feels like he’s somewhere else entirely.

The last time you saw him in person was two weeks ago. You’d flown from Michigan to see him play in Newark the first time you’d been able to since the season started. Jack had barely looked at you when you met him outside the locker room. His face was tight, his eyes tired. He’d hugged you, but it was quick. Impersonal. And when you sat with his family during the game, you saw the tension in his shoulders, the way he carried himself on the ice like the weight of it all was pressing down too hard. He’d been the last one off the ice after the loss, his head down, his mouth pulled tight.

He called you that night late, when you were already back at the hotel and apologized. “I just I’m sorry I couldn’t see you more,” Jack had said, his voice low. He’d sounded exhausted. “I’m just tired.”

Now, it’s almost midnight again, and you’re staring at your phone, waiting for him to call. He hasn’t. You’ve texted twice with no answer. You know he’s probably at home by now, maybe asleep. Or maybe not. He’s started turning his phone off after games. Less noise, he’d said. Less pressure. But you don’t know if it’s helping.

It’s hard to know what to say when you do talk to him. When he tells you he’s doing fine, even though you can hear it in his voice that he isn’t. When he tells you, “I’ll figure it out,” even though you can see him unraveling.

The next morning, you call him before class. He answers on the third ring, his voice rough with sleep. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You okay?”

Jack sighs. You can hear the sound of him rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

Jack’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah.”

You sit down on the edge of your bed, clutching the phone a little tighter. “Jack”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. Too quickly.

“You’re not,” you say gently. “You don’t have to-”

“I said I’m fine,” Jack cuts in. His tone is sharper than you’ve ever heard it.

You go quiet. Jack exhales. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I just don't know.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly.

Jack doesn’t say anything for a while. You can hear his breathing over the line, steady but heavy. Finally, he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You don’t have to fix it alone.”

Jack doesn’t answer. And after a while, the line goes quiet.

The next time you talk to Jack, it’s after another loss. This time to Toronto. Another night of him leaving the rink without a point. Another night of reporters asking him what’s wrong, why he isn’t producing.

“I’m trying,” Jack says, his voice tight. “I’m trying and it’s not, it's not working.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But it’s not your fault. It’s a team-”

“I don’t care if it’s a team thing,” Jack snaps. “I’m the first pick. I’m supposed to be the one fixing it.”

“Jack-”

“I have to be better.” His voice cracks. “I just I don’t know how.”

Your heart aches. You want to reach through the phone and pull him into you. Hold him until the tension melts away. But you can’t. You’re too far away. And Jack’s already starting to pull back.

“You’re not alone im with you,” you say quietly.

Jack doesn’t answer.

You hear him breathe out. Then the call ends.

The worst part is that you don’t know how to help him. Jack’s not letting you in the way he used to. And you can feel it the distance growing between you, like something fraying at the edges. You want to fix it. You want to be enough to hold him together.But Jack’s starting to slip through your fingers.

⟡

After a while, you notice that not only jack started to drift from you, but also your relationship with him. It starts with the little things.

The missed calls. The delayed replies. The way Jack’s voice sounds a little too thin over the phone, his laugh not quite reaching the places it usually does. He’s tired you can hear it even when he tries to hide it.

At first, you don’t think much of it. Jack’s schedule is brutal, and it’s not like he’s never missed a call before. But then it starts happening more often. You’ll text him after a game Proud of you, call me when you can? and it’ll sit there for hours. Sometimes until the next day. Or he’ll call you late, hours after he said he would, with a rushed apology and a tired “I’m sorry, babe. I just passed out after practice.”

You get it. You do.  He’s in the middle of his rookie season, grinding through the hardest stretch of hockey he’s ever played, and he’s under more pressure than he’ll ever admit. But that doesn’t make it sting any less when you see his name light up your phone after midnight and realize you’ve already given up hope of hearing from him that night. 

Or when you do pick up, and it’s not the Jack you’re used to hearing.

“Hey,” you say softly, curling up under the covers. “You okay?”

Jack’s voice is thin over the line. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He always says that. Just tired. Even when it sounds like more than that.

“You played well tonight,” you offer. “Had that sick pass in the second.”

Jack’s breath crackles faintly through the speaker. “Didn’t matter. We still lost.”

“It’s not on you.”

Jack hums. You can picture the way he’s probably lying there  head buried in the pillow, hand resting over his face, the line of his jaw tight. He’s always been hard on himself. But lately, it's gotten worse.

The games aren’t going well. The media’s been tearing into him —first overall pick and only four goals? The disappointment in the headlines is almost palpable. You’ve stopped reading the articles, but you know Jack hasn’t. He doesn’t talk about it, but you can tell from the way he’s quieter now. The way his texts have dwindled from paragraphs to one word answers. 

The last time you FaceTimed, Jack barely looked at you. He was lying in bed, hair damp from his post-game shower, and you could see the crease between his brows even when he wasn’t talking. You tried to make him smile made a dumb joke about how you’d start training to become the Devils' new enforcer but all you got was a faint chuckle and, “Sorry, I’m just-”

“Tired,” you’d finished for him, and Jack had sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

It’s been like this for a while now. He’s slipping  or maybe you’re the one slipping away. You don’t know how to fix it when Jack’s over 600 miles away, and every conversation feels like trying to grasp sand in your hands the harder you try to hold on, the faster it slips through your fingers.  

You’re curled up in bed now, phone pressed to your ear as Jack’s voice filters through the speaker. 

“It was bad,” Jack says. His voice is quiet. Defeated. “I just I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You sit up a little, pushing back the tight feeling in your chest. “Jack, it’s not you. The whole team’s struggling right now.”

“Yeah, but” He cuts himself off. You can hear the frustrated exhale on the other end. “I should be better. I was the first overall pick  I’m supposed to make a difference.”

“You are making a difference,” you say gently. “It’s your rookie year. No one expects you to carry the team.”

Jack’s silent for a beat too long. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Jack?”

“Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds distant. “I know.”

You hesitate. “Do you, though?”

His breath hitches. “I just I don’t know. Feels like I’m trying, but nothing’s working. And people are starting to talk, you know? About how maybe I wasn’t ready, maybe I’m not”

“Jack,” you cut in. “Stop.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You’re not a mistake,” you say, because you know that’s what he’s thinking. “You deserve to be there. You worked your ass off for this.”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess,’” you press. “Jack, you”

“I know,” he snaps, and the sharpness of it cuts through the space between you. You freeze, swallowing the knot in your throat. Jack exhales shakily. His voice softens. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

You force a small smile even though he can’t see it. “You’re allowed to be tired.”

“Yeah,” Jack says, but it doesn’t sound like he believes it.

Another stretch of silence presses down between you. You wait for Jack to fill it, but he doesn’t.

“You want me to stay on the phone with you?” you ask quietly.

Jack’s quiet for a second. “No its okay”

“I’ll stay” 

“Okay.”

So you stay. Jack doesn’t say much after that. You can hear the rustle of his comforter as he shifts around, settling into bed. His breathing starts to even out. You stay awake longer than you probably should, listening to the soft sound of him breathing on the other end of the line, wondering how much longer you’ll be able to reach him like this.

Because lately, even when he’s right there, yet he feels so far away.

⟡

It’s been months of missed calls, delayed texts, and half-hearted conversations. Jack’s always tired. Or busy. Or distracted. And when you do talk, it’s like he’s only halfway there like some part of him is already pulling away. You’ve tried not to read into it, tried to convince yourself it’s just the pressure of his rookie season, that things will settle once he finds his rhythm. But deep down, you know better. It’s not just hockey. It’s him. It’s you. It’s the quiet space growing between you, the way it stretches wider with every unanswered text and every empty conversation.

So you book a flight to New Jersey because you need to know if this is still something you can save or if you lost him completely

DAY ONE  

The cab ride from the airport to Jack’s apartment is quiet. Too quiet. The city outside the window passes in a blur of gray and headlights, but you don’t really see it. Your phone sits heavy in your lap, the screen dark except for the faint reflection of the passing streetlights. You tap your thumb against the side of it like you're expecting a message that you know isn’t coming. Jack texted you earlier to confirm he’d be home when you arrived, but that was three hours ago. No follow-up. No “Can’t wait to see you.” No little heart emoji like he used to send.  

It’s not that he’s ignoring you  at least, not outright. He’s busy, you’ve told yourself a hundred times over the last few weeks. Rookie season is demanding. New city, new team, new pressure. He’s adjusting. You should understand that. And you do. You swear you do. But understanding it doesn’t make the silence feel any less heavy.  

When the cab pulls up in front of Jack’s building, you hesitate for a second before stepping out. You’re not sure why  it’s not like you’ve never been here before but the weight sitting low in your stomach makes it hard to breathe. The driver sets your bag on the curb, and you force yourself to pick it up, shoulders tensing under the weight of it as you walk toward the entrance.  

Jack opens the door when you knock. He’s in a plain Devils hoodie and sweatpants, his hair damp like he just showered. He smiles, but it’s thin, barely reaching his eyes. 

“Hey,” he says. His voice is soft, like he's already tired.  

You smile, forcing brightness into your voice. “Hey.”  

Jack leans down to kiss you, but it’s brief. Quick. Like he’s already pulling away before it starts. His hand finds the small of your back and guides you into the apartment, but it drops as soon as the door closes behind you.  

The apartment looks the same cleaner than you expected, probably because Ellen came to visit last week but it feels off. Like someone came through and rearranged all the furniture just enough to make you notice. Jack’s shoes are in a neat row by the door. There’s a half empty coffee mug sitting on the counter. His phone is face down on the couch.  

Jack sits down on the couch, leaving a noticeable gap beside him. You sit too, trying to close it, but he doesn’t shift toward you.  

“So,” you start, your voice too bright, too forced, “how was practice today?”  

“Fine.”  

Your stomach twists. “Just fine?”  

Jack shrugs, eyes fixed on the muted TV. “Yeah.”  

You watch him for a second, the sharp line of his jaw and the way his hand rests against his knee. Normally, he'd have his arm around you by now. Normally, you’d be tangled together and he’d be rambling about plays and drills and how Nico wouldn’t stop chirping him today.  

But he’s quiet. Detached.  

And you’re hyper aware of the space between you.  

Jack reaches for the remote and starts flipping through channels. His brows furrowed in concentration, but he’s not really watching anything. It’s like his body is here, but the rest of him is somewhere else.  

“Hungry?” he asks after a minute.  

“Yeah, I could eat.”  

“Cool.” He stands. “I’ll order something.”  

And that’s it. He disappears into the kitchen without asking what you want. A minute later, you hear the soft murmur of his voice on the phone.   

You sit there, your heart beating loud in your ears, and wonder why it feels like you’ve already lost him.  

Jack comes back a few minutes later and drops onto the couch, his knee brushing against yours for half a second before he shifts away.  

“Food should be here in, like, twenty minutes,” he says.  

You nod. “okay”  

More silence. The TV hums in the background, the flicker of light reflecting off Jack’s face. You glance at him, hoping he’ll look over at you, but his gaze stays fixed on the screen. His hand is resting between his knees, his fingers pulling at a loose thread in the fabric of his sweatpants.  

You clear your throat. “Did you, um talk to Quinn today he was asking me about you?”  

Jack’s mouth tightens. “Yeah.”  

“And?”  

“He’s good.”  

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. The seconds stretch out between you, long and tense and uncomfortable.  

“Jack.” You lean toward him, lowering your voice. “What’s going on?” Jack’s jaw twitches. “Nothing.”  

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”  

Jack sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just been a long week.”  

You search his face, the dark circles under his eyes, the faint crease in his forehead and you know he’s not lying. But you also know he’s not telling you the whole truth.   

“You know you can talk to me, right?” you say, your voice soft.  

Jack’s gaze flickers toward you, and for a second, you see it  the familiar warmth, the quiet vulnerability you’ve always known how to reach. His eyes soften, and he looks like he might actually say something.  

But then the buzzer for the front door sounds, and the moment evaporates.  

Jack stands quickly. “That’s the food.”  

You watch him cross the room, feeling the distance stretch wider with every step.  

He comes back with a brown takeout bag, setting it on the coffee table before sitting down. He opens the bag and pulls out containers of food  sushi, not your favorite  and hands you a pair of chopsticks without looking at you. 

You stare down at the food. “Did you know what I wanted?”  

Jack hesitates. “I just ordered something quick.”  

Your chest tightens. Jack always knows what you want. He knows you like avocado rolls, not spicy tuna. He knows you like extra soy sauce on the side and that you don’t like wasabi. But tonight, it’s like he didn’t even think about it.  

You pick at the sushi, appetite gone. Jack eats quietly, his eyes back on the TV. The sound of the game commentator fills the air, too loud, pressing into your skull.  

After a few minutes, Jack stands and starts cleaning up. He takes your barely touched container and tosses it in the trash without a word.  

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.  

“Oh. Okay.”  

Jack hesitates in the doorway. His eyes flick toward you, and for a second, you think he might come back, sit down, pull you into his arms, tell you he’s just tired and that everything is fine.  

But he doesn’t. He disappears down the hall, and a minute later, you hear the sound of the shower running.  

You sit there, hands clasped in your lap, listening to the water hit the tile. Your heart feels too big and too small at the same time, pressing against the walls of your chest.   

Jack’s phone buzzes on the table, and you glance at it. A text from Nico lights up the screen:  

Good skate today. 

 You stare at the message for a long time. 

The shower runs in the background, and you sit alone on the couch, feeling the emptiness stretch out around you.

DAY TWO

Jack sleeps with his back to you.  

It’s not the first time, but it feels different tonight. Final. His side of the bed feels miles away, the sheets cool and untouched where his body should be. You lie there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his breathing. It’s shallow, restless. Every few minutes, he shifts, the mattress dipping under his weight.  

You think about reaching for him, curling up into his side like you always do. Your hand twitches under the blanket, fingers itching to brush over his back, to anchor yourself to the steady rhythm of his breathing. But something stops you. Fear, maybe or just the quiet certainty that if you reach for him, he’ll pull away.  

So you stay still, the space between you cold and unforgiving.  

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night to find him half hanging off the edge of the bed, his face turned toward the wall. His arm is curled beneath his head, his breathing uneven. You watch the rise and fall of his back, the way his shoulders tense even in sleep. He’s not resting, not really.   

You swallow hard and sit up slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. For a second, you think about touching him, coaxing him back toward you. But you don’t. You can’t.   

In the morning, Jack wakes up first. You know this because you hear him moving around the apartment while you lie there, eyes closed, hoping he’ll come back to bed. He doesn’t.  

Instead, you hear the distant sound of water running in the bathroom, the clink of glass in the kitchen. The low hum of the TV. You press your face into the pillow and try to breathe through the tightness in your chest.  

When you finally get up, Jack’s sitting at the kitchen counter with a protein shake. He’s already dressed in workout gear Devils issued shorts and a long-sleeve shirt that fits snug around his arms. His hair is damp, curling slightly at the ends. He glances up when you enter the room.  

“Morning,” you say, your voice coming out softer than you meant.  

“Hey.”  

You sit across from him, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Jack’s gaze flickers toward you briefly, then drops back down to his protein shake. He spins the cup slowly in his hands, condensation trailing down the side.  

You try to find his eyes. “Sleep okay?”  

Jack nods, distracted. He taps his thumb against the edge of the cup. “Yeah.”  

“You sure?”  

“Mmhmm.” His gaze darts toward the window.  

You glance at the clock on the microwave. “What time’s practice?”  

“Ten.”  

“You want to grab coffee after?”  

Jack hesitates. His shoulders tighten. “I don’t know. We’ve got media stuff later.”  

“Oh.”  

You feel stupid for asking.  

Jack stands and rinses out his cup in the sink. His back is to you, but you see the tension in his shoulders. He’s holding it all in  the pressure, the frustration, the weight of everything this year has asked of him. Normally, he’d tell you about it. He’d talk through it, let you hold it with him for a little while.  

But now it feels like he’s trying to keep the distance intact.  

“You okay?” you ask quietly.  

“Yeah.”  

“Jack.”  

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. When he speaks, his voice is tight. “It’s just a lot right now.”  

You nod, even though he’s not looking at you.  

Jack’s hand curls over the edge of the counter. His knuckles turn white for half a second before he exhales and grabs his keys from the hook by the door.  

“I’ll see you later, okay?” His tone is light  too light. Like he’s trying to make this feel normal.  

You sit up straighter. “We could go out tonight. Dinner or something.”  

Jack pauses with his hand on the handle. His eyes flick toward you, guarded. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”  

Then he’s gone.  

The door clicks shut behind him, and the quiet of the apartment closes in around you.  

You sit there for a long time, staring at the spot where he stood. The sunlight spills in through the thin curtains, cutting pale lines across the hardwood floor. You think about the way he used to kiss you in the mornings, sleepy and warm, his hand curled over the back of your neck. You think about the way he used to tug you into his chest after a restless night, murmuring sleepy nonsense into your hair.  

And then you think about last night about the empty side of the bed and the quiet wall of his back facing you.  

Your phone buzzes on the table. You grab it quickly, your heart leaping in your chest. But it’s not Jack. It’s a text from quinn  

"Hope you’re having a good time! How’s Jack?" 

You stare at the message for a long moment before typing back:  

"Good. Everything’s good." 

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.   

You sit there for a while longer, the phone still in your hand, before pushing yourself to your feet. You grab the half-empty protein shake Jack left on the counter and dump it down the sink. The hum of the refrigerator fills the silence.  

It’s only nine o’clock, but it feels later. Your eyes drift toward the bedroom  the sheets still rumpled from sleep and you wonder if you should crawl back into bed and wait for him to come home.  

But you know better.  

Instead, you curl up on the couch and pull the blanket over your legs. Jack’s sweatshirt is draped over the arm of the couch, and you pull it onto your lap, bunching the sleeves in your hands. It smells like his laundry detergent and something warmer, more familiar.  

you press your face into the fabric and close your eyes, trying to remember the last time he held you like he meant it.  

You think about how he used to look at you and really look at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.  

But that was months ago. Now, when Jack looks at you, it’s like he’s looking through you. Or worse like he’s already decided what happens next.  

Your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Jack.  

“Practice ran long. Gonna be late.” 

You type out a quick response  "Okay."  but don’t hit send right away.  

Instead, you sit there with the message glowing on the screen, wondering when it started feeling like this. Like you’re holding onto something that’s already slipping away.

DAY THREE

It was worse the next day. The air felt thicker, like it was weighing down every conversation. Jack seemed distracted, his gaze always drifting toward his phone or the TV. When you asked if he wanted to grab lunch, he hesitated for a second before saying, "Yeah, sure," like he was doing you a favor.

At lunch, he kept glancing around, not meeting your eyes. You watched him scroll through his phone between bites of his sandwich. You tapped your nails against the table.

"Jack."

"Hmm?" His eyes didn’t lift from his phone.

"Can you put that down?"

He sighed but set the phone face down. "Okay."

You wanted to ask if he even wanted you here. You wanted to ask why he wasn’t looking at you like he used to, why you felt like a ghost in his apartment. But you swallowed it all down and smiled when Jack forced another conversation about hockey that you could barely focus on.

That night, he sat at the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone again while you sat behind him. You reached out, resting a hand on his back. He tensed.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

"Yeah," he said quickly.

"You don’t seem like it."

"I’m fine, okay?" His tone was sharp. He stood up and walked toward the bathroom without looking back.

You stared at the empty space he left behind.

DAY FOUR

You woke up before Jack.  

He was lying on his stomach, face half-buried in the pillow, hair sticking up in every direction. You watched him for a moment, chest rising and falling steadily. He looked peaceful like this like the Jack you used to know. The Jack who used to roll over and pull you into his arms the second he woke up.  

You shifted closer, brushing your hand over his back. His skin was warm under your fingertips. He stirred, groaning softly into the pillow.  

"Morning," you whispered.  

Jack’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked at you sleepily, then rubbed a hand over his face. "Morning."  

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. He didn’t react. Just sat up and ran a hand through his hair.  

"What time is it?"  

"Almost nine."  

Jack nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I should get going soon."  

"Going where?I thought you had today off"  

Jack stood, stretching. "I do, I'm just going to go workout with some of the guys."  

"Oh." You sat up, the sheets pooling around your waist. "Can I come?"  

Jack paused, looking at you over his shoulder. "I mean it’s just going to be boring."  

"I don’t care."  

Jack hesitated. "I think we’re just gonna grab lunch after. Probably end up hanging out at Nico’s."  

You bit the inside of your cheek. "So you don’t want me there?"  

Jack’s gaze darted to the floor. "It’s not that."  

"Then what is it?"  

Jack sighed. "I don’t know. Just feels like a guys' thing, you know?"  

You swallowed. "Right."  

Jack’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, checking the screen. A faint smile tugged at his mouth.  

"Who is it?" you asked.  

“Nico," Jack said, texting back quickly. He tossed his phone onto the bed, already moving toward the bathroom.  

You sat there for a moment, heart sinking.  

"I’ll be back later," Jack called over his shoulder.  

"Cool," you murmured. But Jack had already closed the door behind him.  

You sat there for a long time, listening to the shower running.  

When Jack got back that afternoon, you were curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest. He walked in, tossed his keys onto the counter, and sat down across from you. He scrolled through his phone without saying anything.  

You watched him for a moment.  

"How was it?" you asked.  

"Hmm?"  

"Your workout."  

Jack shrugged. "Good."  

"Anything else?"  

Jack didn’t look up. "Nope."  

Your jaw tightened.  

You shifted closer, resting a hand on his arm. "Jack."  

He tensed. "What?"  

You hated how sharp his voice sounded. Like you were annoying him.  

"Do you want to do something tonight?" you asked quietly.  

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don’t know. I’m kind of tired."  

"Oh."  

Jack’s gaze flicked toward you. "What?"  

"Nothing," you said quickly, even though it wasn’t nothing.  

Jack’s phone buzzed again. He picked it up without hesitation. You sat there, heart sinking as he smiled at the screen. He didn’t even notice the way your hand fell away from his arm.  

And that’s when it hit you.  

You weren’t the person he wanted to talk to anymore.  

You weren’t the person who made him smile like that anymore.  

You took a breath, swallowing hard. "Jack."  

"Hmm?"  

You sat up straighter, heart hammering painfully against your ribs. "Do you even want me here?"  

Jack’s head jerked toward you, brows furrowing. "What kind of question is that?"  

"You’re barely looking at me." Your voice cracked. "You don’t talk to me. When you do, it feels like you’re trying to get through it so you can go back to your phone. Just say it if you don’t want me here."  

Jack’s jaw tightened. "Jesus, you’re making this a bigger deal than it is."  

"A bigger deal?" you echoed. Your voice sharpened. "Jack, I flew to new jersey to see you. I’m trying so hard to hold this together, but you’re not even meeting me halfway. If you don’t want this anymore, just"  

"I didn’t ask you to come."  

You froze.  

Jack’s eyes widened, but the words were already out there.  

Your heart hammered in your chest. "What?"  

"I didn’t ask you to come," he repeated, softer this time. His gaze fell to the floor. "You decided to."  

You blinked hard, your throat tightening painfully. "Wow."  

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. "I didn’t mean it like that"  

"You did."  

Jack’s mouth opened, but no words came out.  

You stood up, shaking. "I can't, I can't do this anymore."  

Jack’s head snapped toward you. "What does that mean?"  

"It means I’m done." Your voice broke, but you kept going. "I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one fighting for this. If you’re not going to try, then why am I even here?"  

Jack’s eyes darkened. "So that’s it? You’re giving up?"  

You laughed bitterly. "You gave up first."  

Jack’s mouth twisted. "Right. So now it’s my fault?"  

"You know what?" you said, your breath shaking. "Yeah. It is."  

Jack stood up, his eyes hard now. "Fine. If you want to go, then go."  

"That’s it?" You took a step toward him, tears blurring your vision. "You’re not even going to try to stop me?"  

Jack’s eyes flashed. "What do you want me to say? That I miss you? That I love you? You already know that, but it’s not enough, is it?"  

"It’s not enough if you’re not going to show it!" you shot back. "You say you love me, but you act like I’m just here. Like I don’t matter."  

Jack’s expression darkened. "Yeah? Well, maybe you don’t."  

You sucked in a sharp breath.  

Jack’s face paled instantly. "I—"  

"No." You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. "You said it. And you know what? Maybe you’re right."  

"Don’t twist this"  

"I’m not twisting anything! I’m done!" Your voice cracked, but you held your ground. "I’m not going to sit here and beg for you to care about me. I deserve better than that."  

Jack’s jaw flexed.  

Your breath hitched. You waited for him to take it back to tell you to stay. But Jack just stood there, eyes stormy, hands clenched into fists at his sides.  

You nodded slowly. "Okay."  

You grabbed your bag from the floor. Jack didn’t say anything as you walked toward the door. Your hand trembled as you opened it.  

You hesitated. Just for a second.  

"Bye, Jack," you whispered.  

Jack didn’t reply.  

You closed the door behind you.  

The flight home feels like a blur. You don’t cry at least not yet  but the numbness sets in as soon as the plane takes off. Jack didn’t text you before you boarded. He didn’t call. He didn’t say anything after the door shut behind you.   

You stare out the window, watching the clouds blur beneath you, but your chest feels hollow. Four years. Gone in a single weekend. Your friendship since you were 10 of growing up together, of loving each other through every awkward phase and milestone  shattered in one conversation.  

You scroll through your phone without really seeing it. His contact sits at the top of your recent messages, the last one marked as read. I’m sorry. He hasn’t sent anything since.   

And honestly, you don’t expect him to.  

Your phone vibrates, and for half a second your heart leaps. But it’s just your mom, checking in. You let the message sit unopened and slide your phone facedown on the tray table.  

When you get home, everything feels wrong. Your room looks the same, but it’s too quiet. No FaceTime calls from Jack lighting up your phone. No goodnight texts. No “Miss you” or “Wish you were here.” The absence is deafening.   

You lie in bed that night, scrolling through old pictures, ones from Vancouver, from Michigan, from all those summers at the lake house. Jack’s smile frozen in time. Your hand in his. Quinn and Luke in the background, laughing at something Jack had said.   

Your chest tightens.  

You think about how easy it used to be how you could sit in silence for hours and still feel connected. How you could tell what Jack was thinking just from a look. How his hand would instinctively find yours without either of you thinking about it.   

But somewhere along the way, you both stopped reaching for each other. Mostly him. 

Your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Quinn.  

“You okay?” 

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, but you don’t know how to answer that.

“Yeah. Just tired.”  

Quinn’s reply comes quickly. “Jack didn’t mean it.”   

Your breath catches. A hollow feeling sinks deeper into your chest.   

You don’t answer.  

Because the worst part is maybe he did.

[minervakarsh]

Much better than could be

A picture I drew of GLaDOS from Portal

Many things

Quite

Taken

Quickly and painlessly

Eating buckwheat right now

Only in PE class

Every day

Can’t remember (

My boyfriend

Nope

One person who my whole hate is directed on. They ruined my life, and even if they hadn’t, I’d still hate them

Mainly my brief childhood friendships

Used to

Calm but kinda anxious because I’m a little late

Not yet

Yeah( quite irrationally, but alas

If I won’t get into a Marty McFly situation then yeah

I don’t know what “snogged” means, sorry

Just have fun ^~^

No kids

No piercings

English, Literature, Russian

Motherfucker you already asked me this

Pretty much nothing

I’ve rejected quite a few guys, but I can’t say anything about whether it broke their hearts

No and I hope I never will

Not to my knowledge, he might’ve been hiding his tears though

The passage of time

Turns out, quite a few people ;~;

Purple! All shades of it

A little bit from when a guy from my school pretended to be a girl online to prey on me

Can’t remember (

My classmates, but they didn’t notice

I fear that yes

To forget I guess

Definitely not

Sixteen

Yeah)))

(Where’s 41-50????)

Watermelon

Nnnope!

Put on my relaxing game music playlist, played it from Still Alive onward

NO!!!

I can be

Too many to count

Kinda do

Sunny and warm and bright blue skies!

Only if it’s winter!

I do but no children

Only if it’s my boyfriend, otherwise it’s icky

Too many things to count!!!

To Minerva, probably. But I like my birth name

Hell nah, I’m kissing him a hundred times if I can

(Okay it says sex not gender, so my best friend who is a trans guy can’t count…)

I actually suspected that he once HAD a crush on me, but I didn’t do anything and I won’t

Yeah, because I’m always my complete self around people

My mom’s boyfriend

Probably my teacher, and that wasn’t intentional

I think people can be perfect for each other but I don’t think it’s fate or soul bond or anything

All my friends and some of my family

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 13

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual language & content (smut), hoops written by lila, kiran being clueless, language Wordcount: 11.5K (told y'all this was long) A/C: ty SOME OF YOU for being patient (the ones begging for a chapter 24/7... go touch grass), this chapter is SO LONG but it's what y'all wanted so buckle up!! ily guys i know most of you are respectful, once again i love reading y'all's thoughts so send them to my inbox :)) have fun reading this and sorry for the basketball content and if it doesn't make sense, in my head it did ok (also ty @thaatdigitaldiary for making sure the hoops made sense <33 ily)

-

Before London

The early morning rays of sun penetrate through the slight gap between my curtains, hitting my eyes in a way that makes me stir. My eyelids feel heavy, as my nose nuzzles the soft silk of the pillowcase underneath my head. I’m still half asleep when I hear faint snoring and steady breathing behind my back. Letting it guide me to consciousness, I focus on the gentle rumbling, the weight of a warm arm wrapped tightly around my waist. My hand is gripping on this very arm, holding it tight and flush against my exposed midriff. As I wake from my slumber, finally fluttering my eyes open I feel the heat of someone’s presence tingling against my back, pressing into my shoulders, the curve of my butt. My heart flutters.

Entangling our legs carefully, I turn around to find Paige, lips parted and face smashed against the pillow, rounding her cheek. The soft snores joint with the AC humming offer a steady lull, making part of me want to close my eyes and doze off again. But I can’t bear to look away. Paige’s long, dark eyelashes are pressed against her tan face, blonde strands falling over her eyes in her sleep. I reach over carefully brushing them back to see more of her, careful not to disturb her. I had never slept in her arms before. Sure, we had slept next to each other on some occasions, but I always made sure to turn around and take my space. 

I didn’t do it to be mean or cruel. Matter of fact it felt more cruel towards myself, because every fibre of my existence ached to curl up next to her and lie on her chest. I had never wanted to be close to someone so bad it hurt. Until now.

But I was terrified of getting used to her, her proximity, the warmth of her body in my bed. I couldn’t bear another heartache. I was still utterly fucked up from the last one, I knew it started with letting myself get used to sleeping in her arms which would lead to daily ‘good morning’ texts which would lead to me falling deeper, head over heels for her. I feared getting used to her presence, her affection. Because it would mean I’d start needing it.

But something in me last night didn’t care. Perhaps it was the way she had helped me all night, cleared up plates, made small talk with the guests effortlessly, anticipated all my needs, grew closer with my brother, I’m not sure what. But something had me backing myself into her as I lied on my side, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She didn’t force anything, didn’t move an inch. But the moment she felt me scooching over her arm was ready to wrap around me. And I grabbed hold of it tightly, clinging to her all night.

I admire her beauty, her sharp nose and soft pink lips, faint lines on her forehead, the star-shaped pimple patch on her cheek. I don’t even realise that I’m smiling, or that the blonde is awake before she smiles too, blinking her tired eyes open.

“You’re staring,” she says hoarsely, voice raspy and rough from sleep.

“No I’m not,” I feebly defend myself, my fingertip tracing along the blonde’s jawline and neck, down to her arm. Paige hums contentedly, wrapping that very arm around my waist and pulling me flush to her warm body. I let her, scratching up and down her shoulder and bicep in a soothing manner.

Her blue eyes watch my sleepy face, our noses nearly brushing as our gazes meet. Her glare has always been intense, but it seems more so at this moment.

“Good mornin’ mama,” she murmurs sleepily. I blush at the nickname, shutting my eyes from the intensity of her stare that’s sending goosebumps up and down my body.

“Good morning love.”

A comforting silence falls upon us, as we slowly allow our minds to wake up.

“I think Rike and Lala know,” Paige says softly, her eyes shut now too as my nails drag up and down her bare back.

“I know,” I chuckle in a gentle way. “Lou too.”

“They not gon’ tell nobody, y’know.”

“I know,” I hum, knowing it was the truth. I suspected Lala had known for longer than me and Paige even have. I stir a little on my side, a familiar tension in my shoulder.

“You okay?” The blonde asks, pulling back the slightest bit. “‘M sorry, I get really warm when I sleep.”

I chuckle, shaking my head, “no, it’s my shoulder.”

“You need to see a massage therapist.”

I grimace, shaking my head, trying to find a comfortable position. “I don’t like strangers touching me.”

“C’mon, c’mere,” Paige coos, maneuvering me with ease so I’m lying on my stomach, most of my weight on her as my leg wraps around her waist. Her hand rubs up and down my back comfortingly, soothing the ache. “Better?”

“Better,” I repeat, chills spreading everywhere. In my tired and blissful haze, I wrap my hand around her chest and kiss her shoulder tenderly as a thank you.

“You need better curtains, it’s so bright,” the blonde groans, throwing a dramatic arm over her face.

“No it’s not,” I giggle. “There’s barely any light coming in. Besides, it’s morning.”

“Too much light, goin’ blind.”

 I reach my hands up over the girl’s face, covering her eyes with my palms. “There. Dark. You happy now?”

“Stoppp,” she whines, grabbing my wrists harshly and pulling them away from her. We both laugh sleepily, Paige pressing a gentle kiss on top of my head, smoothing over my wild locks.

“You ready for this game against the Storms tomorrow?” I ask gently, knowing games had become a sensitive subject for the blonde. She shifts, inhaling heavily before answering.

“I’m hyped I guess, wish Nika was comin’,” she says and hesitates. “Can’t wait to play against her next season, God willing.”

I smile, glad to see she’s thinking positively. Paige kept her feelings inside, but I knew the off start to the season was bothering her much more than she was willing to admit. Quickly, talks of Rookie of The Season had shifted from the blonde to Olivia Miles, and the media discourse hadn’t been helping Paige’s confidence. 

“Is this the end of the great Paige Buckets? Her rookie season has been disappointing to say the least. She seems to be distracted and in her head, missing threes and middies she used to hit with ease. Many people speculate that Geno Auriemma’s coaching is to bl-” blared from my phone just yesterday as I opened TikTok. It made me want to throw the device onto the ground, but the most I could do was to report the video. If I got content like that on my page, I couldn’t even imagine what the blonde saw on her’s.

“Uh- So what’s the plan for breakfast?” Paige asks, eager to change the subject. I catch onto the hint and let her - knowing that pushing it right now wouldn’t be smart.

“The schedule says blueberry pancakes,” I murmur. The blonde smiles, blue eyes flickering to my face on her chest.

“You memorise it?”

“Course I do,” I scoff. Something about this sets the girl off, pearls of gentle chuckles filling the room as she wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. I giggle too, feeling her lift me on top of her. As she does the door handle makes a sound and before I know it, a shirtless Kiran is stepping into the bedroom.

“Morni- Oh, whoa.”

I’m lying flat on top of Paige, whose arms are wrapped tightly around my waist under the covers. The blonde quickly pulls the blanket upwards, covering both of us up to our shoulders. It was already an incriminating scene, but even worse would be if he realised the lack of clothes on us from last night’s activities.

Kiran’s eyes are wide, brows raised as he looks over at us. I rummage my mind for an excuse, any sorry reason I’m on top of the blonde in bed. He blinks for a while, as if resetting his brain. But he doesn’t say a word.

“I- Paige was cold,” I murmur in a panic. The blonde nods, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

“I really was, been freezin’ my ass off all night.” Her voice is so genuine and confident even I nearly believe it.

Kiran keeps looking at us, cheeks reddening slightly at the sight. “I was just wondering how, uh, how to use the coffee machine.”

“I’ll come help,” I mumble, about to climb out when Paige pulls me flush against her. It’s then I remember I’m nearly completely naked.

“No!” She yelps, rolling me over to my back, throwing the covers over my body. “I’mma go, you rest mama, had a long night last night,” she smiles, patting my hip carefully. Thankfully the sports bra and basketball shorts on her had stayed on last night. She grabs a hoodie off the ground, throwing it on casually.

Kiran, still red in the face, is processing (now on top of everything, the nickname too). The blonde grabs him by the shoulder to turn him around, walking him out of the room. Flipping over, I groan into the pillow, embarrassed. My ears burn and my heart is pounding, trying to find a way to make sense of this to Kiran without exposing the truth to him. 

Throwing on Paige’s shirt from last night, I button it up lazily. But as my hand wraps around the door handle, I realise this probably was the worst possible choice of clothing to walk out in after… that. Cursing internally at my brother who never knew how to knock, I undress and dress again in a pair of leggings and a sports bra, both dark brown and matching.

I exhale deeply before stepping out, prepared to stay composed no matter how flustered I felt. However, I’m surprised to find Paige and Kiran laughing together in the kitchen, making blueberry pancakes and talking about video games - something I never understood.

“Well good morning,” Kiran smiles, mixing the batter. Paige, tired but gleaming with quiet joy, gets up from leaning against the wrap-around island, handing me a large cup of coffee.

“Mm mornin’,” she says with a lopsided smile, fingers rubbing my forearm behind my brother’s back.

“Good morning,” I say, still a little flustered, turning towards him. “Uh, Kiran, so that was probably quite strange to walk into, I just-”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I know how girls are,” he chuckles, and seems to genuinely mean it. I glance at Paige who nods, covering the lower part of her face, hiding the smile that’s forming.

“Sure,” I mumble confused.

“You know, girl stuff,” Kiran adds as the blonde grabs a pan from the bottom drawer, placing it on the stove with a sly smile.

“Right, girl stuff,” I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief behind my brother’s back. At this point I was beginning to question his intelligence. I was also concerned about what he thinks girls do behind closed doors. Standing beside Paige, sipping my coffee, I feel her hand run down my lower back to my ass, copping a feel just for a second while Kiran’s back is facing us. Giggling silently, I push her hand away, the sneaky touch leaving my skin tingling.

-

Unsurprisingly, keeping my hands off Izara felt impossible. I knew it would be a challenge, it always was. But at least usually I knew the moment we got home we’d get the chance to do what we’d been craving all day. I had completely taken it for granted. Because now with Kiran constantly around, my hands were subconsciously itching to touch his sister’s arm here, or waist there. To wrap my arm around her and kiss the side of her head. Keeping my hands busy had felt like torture. So I was grateful for the controller in my hands, just to have something to keep them to myself.

“Wh- How are you this good? I’m fucked,” Kiran groans, Fortnite blasting on the TV. He’s leaning back on the leather armchair, rubbing his jaw annoyed. Poor guy wasn’t doing too good. Izzie’s curled up on the corner of my couch with a book in her hand - a sight I’d gotten selfishly used to, trying to remember not to take it for granted like I had the touches and kisses.

“We played a lot with my girls back in Uconn,” I grin, leaning forward in concentration and resting my elbows on my knees, manspreading enough so my skin tingles against the girl beside me. “Back in the good ole days.”

Kiran laughs. “You don’t like it in Dallas?”

I contemplate, long fingers sliding over the controller. I guess that’s how I felt at first, and then again when me and Iz weren’t talking. But whenever she was in my life, the whole city seemed brighter, more vibrant. Especially now. As my eyes glance around the living room for the first time I realise this is my home. I could tell by the framed UConn jersey on my wall, surrounded by posters of my favourite players, the Lego Air Jordan decorating the TV stand, my Bible sitting on the coffee table next to the GQ, the decorative pillows Izzie helped me choose - oh and the girl next to me. Without even noticing, somewhere down the line, Dallas had become my home.

“Was thinkin’ I never would,” I tell Kiran, chewing on my lower lip to concentrate on the game. “But it’s lookin up.” I glance at Izara next to me, absentmindedly scrunching her face as she reads over the page. She always looked so beautiful like that, when she was really using her beautiful mind and having to focus.

The beautiful sight is interrupted, however, by the ringing of Izara’s phone. The girl lifts her head up, reaching for it and sighs.

“It’s Trey, must be work,” she murmurs, leaving the room in a hurry to lock herself into my bedroom. I roll my eyes in annoyance, feeling jealousy simmering somewhere in my stomach. I miss a shot but barely notice, eyeing the bedroom door. To my surprise, Kiran scoffs.

“Slimy guy,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I reply, grip so tight on the white controller my knuckles turn pale.

“You get bad energy from him too?”

I lean back on the couch, fully aware my t-shirt was hiking up, showing some of my boxers underneath the basketball shorts I had on. “Never liked him,” I chuckle bitterly, feeling some sort of enjoyment as if Kiran was justifying my hatred. It felt satisfying knowing someone was on my side, finally.

“He just wants to shag Izzie so bad, it’s so obvious,” Kiran shakes his head, finally giving up and letting the controller fall off his hand to his lap. “The entire dinner party he was trying to suck up to me, I swear.”

“I saw,” I huff. “He loves to kiss ass, especially Izzie’s.”

“Izzie won’t believe that he likes her.”

I kiss my teeth, finally exiting the game, too engaged in the conversation. I always would be if it meant I got to talk shit about Trey. “Bro I know, I tried tellin’ her.”

Kiran shakes his head, looking at me from the leather chair. “She just has bad judgement with men. Like with her ex too.”

“Jasper?” I ask, reaching my hands up to fix the low messy bun my hair is in.

“Yup,” he nods. “What an asshole that one, a complete nonce. I saw it the minute I met him. Tried to warn her, but you know how she is.”

Yes I did. “Stubborn as hell,” I grin. Kiran looks at me knowingly.

“I just wish I was here to look after her.”

“I’ve been lookin after her,” I say without hesitation. The younger boy looks at me, eyes softening.

“She’s changed a lot,” he mumbles. “In a good way. She seems more… at peace, joyful even.” He laughs. “Wow, never thought I’d be calling my big sister joyful.”

I smile and maybe it was narcissistic of me to think so but I hoped that at least some of that was my doing. I could tell the difference from when she first arrived and now - like night and day. I adored her both ways.

“She was always serious, even as a child,” Kiran starts, smiling to himself. “One time she forgot to do her homework, she must have been like seven, and she beat herself up so bad over it and put these pink sticky notes everywhere around the house, reminding her to do her homework. Mind you, she had never forgotten to do it before. That lasted for many many months.”

I laugh, my heart fluttering at the idea of little Izara and her dramatic little gestures, sticking notes on doors and walls and mirrors.

“Our mum hated those notes, would try to tell her that one was enough but everytime she took them down they were up the next day.”

“That sounds like Iz,” I laugh. “She still lowkey that dramatic.” My face falls, glancing towards the bedroom. The door is still closed. Phew.

Kiran nods, chuckling. “Better not let her hear that,” he grins. “She’s strict. Just like mum.”

“Oh, I know,” I laugh. The times I’d gotten in trouble with that girl. I loved it though, she kept me grounded. She was exactly the type of person I could see myself with for a long, long time.

“When we were kids she was so strict about rules too. One time our granny tried to give us sweets before lunch and she told mum. She kept saying “granny broke the rules”. It was hilarious,” he smiles. “Well, not in the moment because I’d eaten the sweets and she told on me too.”

“Oh trust, it’s strict over here too. One time I got her to get ice cream with me before dinner but it took like, an hour of convincing,” I grin, playing with the ring on my thumb.

“That’s Izzie alright,” Kiran smiles. “The only person I ever saw her bend the rules for was this boy she had a crush on as a kid. Was the funniest thing, she would just walk around yanking his sleeves and if that wasn’t enough to get him to notice her, she’d just pull on the hood of his coat.”

I think for a while, warmth spreading all over my body as I listen to Kiran’s stories. “Well she don’t bend no rules for me.”

The boy looks at me for a while before shrugging and grabbing the controller up from his lap. “Another round then?”

-

“Look at my girl!” Lala grins, taking hurried steps in her strappy heels when she sees me. 

“Hey Lala,” I chuckle, wrapping my arms around her to greet the girl. Even with my heels on she was still much taller than me. Our voices echo around the players’ corridors, loud chatter of the girls, especially Arike’s, coming through the closed door behind us where the team was getting ready, hyping each other up.

“You’ll go sit with Kiran right?” I ask, worried I had to abandon my brother who was sitting amongst the crowd all alone - he wasn’t allowed back here.

“Of course, I’ll take care of your baby brother, don’t you worry girl,” the older woman smiles, smoothing over the cropped baby t-shirt and denim skirt I’m wearing. “This is so cute, I’m not used to seeing you so dressed down.”

I chuckle awkwardly, fixing my straightened hair. “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it, pretty girl,” she smiles comfortingly, raising her brow just a little. “I can see some… Paige's influence.”

“Oh, yeah she helped me pick,” I smile bashfully, knowing Lala knew exactly what me and Paige had been up to. There was no reason to say it out loud though.

“She good to you?” She asks, voice lowering just for me to hear. “Because if she’s not you know who to call.”

“She’s perfectly good,” I giggle, my cheeks heating up. 

“Who is?”

I know who it is before I turn, that voice at this point burnt into my brain, engraved into me like a tattoo.

“Mind your business,” Lala laughs, wrapping an arm around Arike who emerges from behind Paige. I laugh, feeling the blondes hands hold my waist as she spins me around, to see all of my fit. My body tenses, breath hitches as a natural reaction to her touch. It was impossible to keep my feelings beneath the surface.

“I knew this fit was gon’ be fire. You look fine mama,” she grins, eyeing me up and down. My knees nearly give in.

“Thank you,” I giggle, all desire to hide what’s going on between us disappearing in front of the engaged couple. Who cares, they already knew. I turn to Paige with watchful eyes, her face softening the moment we make eye contact. I loved the way she looked in her jersey, how broad her shoulders seemed, how well the black contrasted her pale skin. I could never get sick of looking at her, though I’d never tell her this. 

Not just anyone could’ve told Paige was nervous - but I saw it written all over her. The picking of her cuticles, the smiles she offered others that fell off her face much too quickly, the way she was shifting her weight back and forth, looking around for any distraction from her growing nerves. I had become an expert at reading her.

“Did you watch the new Love Island episode?” I ask the taller girl, elbowing her gently, offering a distraction. Her skin is sticky from the warm-ups earlier.

Paige looks around for a while before even realising she’s being spoken to. “Uhh, nah, didn’t have time,” she murmurs, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Five minutes ladies,” one of the assistant coaches yells. The girl beside me exhales heavily, and it was enough for me to know what she was thinking about. The late night discussions we’d had about Olivia Miles, the guilt Paige felt over the jealousy eating away at her. All current projections were showing Miles to be the Rookie of The Year and now she had to play against her, like some personal battle they were fighting. More than just Wings vs Storm. I tried to remind the blonde it was still early, and even Clark had her issues in the beginning. It was bound to happen. I’m not sure if this helped or made it worse for Paige.

“Heyyy, my favourite team!” Trey beams, approaching all of us gathered in the corridors, making our way towards the court. Immediately Paige’s jaw flexes, and I can tell the man’s presence was not appreciated at this moment.

“Shh,” I tell Trey sternly. “Let them get focused,” I shoo him away, hoping this will help the blonde’s nerves. No pep talks, or reassurance, or encouragement had worked before. I had been nothing but sweet and caring and gentle, but it seemed to have no effect on her game. So I decide to change tactics - she was coached by Geno after all. Gentle words might not be what she needs.

As we stand in the dark tunnel with the team, I face Paige, watching the nervous tapping of her hand on her thigh. 

“Stop, look at me.”

Without hesitation, her blue eyes flicker to mine, my hand holding her wrist still.

“You’re more than these people say about you, who gives a shit about Olivia Miles? You bust your ass every single day, and for what? Just to give up the crown that easily? I don’t think so, you’ve gone through way worse,” I tell her sternly, my voice quiet but authoritative in the low chatter filling the tunnel. “You’re not here to entertain, you’re not here to let the media use you as a joke, fuck that. Stop playing scared. Stop playing small. If you screw up at least screw up big, keep looking for your shot even if you can’t get a single one in. You’ve got something to prove Paige. Not to me, not to the fans or the haters but to yourself. Remind yourself who you are.”

She stares at me, face blank as she internalises my words. 

“Okay girls, let’s go.”

The team begins to head towards the court, but Paige stands still for a second before glancing up, her teammates far gone.

“Wait,” I murmur, my hands reaching for the hem of her jersey and tucking the fabric into her shorts, all around her waist from the back to the front. “Okay, you can go.”

-

The crowd roars for yet another layup for Gabby, but I barely hear them. It’s as if the crowd is closing in, my ears ringing due to their screaming. I missed both my jumpers, already getting me back into the mindset I had been in the entire season. I’m not good enough, I peaked in college, I wasn’t the player I used to be. On top of everything she is like a pest, constantly on me.

Sweat drips down my back, the jersey that still felt like a stranger’s clinging to me. Olivia is bringing the ball up the court, eyeing for options. We’re face to face, my hands active to find any moment for a stop. She had been on fire all night, the first half of the game gone much like the media expected. Olivia was hot with 16 points, me? A hard earned six, though the five assists were making me feel a little better. Still not confident in the way I used to be.

Miles glances to the side, looking for help from beyond the arc. Everyone’s locked down. Suddenly our eyes meet. I see it. I feel it. She explodes. Her shoulder brushes against mine as she speeds towards the freethrow line. I follow with fast feet and fast hands, matching her steps, staying locked in. No way she was getting this one. 

But I’m not fast enough. She hits me with a quick and nasty hesitation move, then snatching back. I stumble, nearly crashing to the ground. By the time I recover, the ball has already left her fingertips. An “ooh” from the ground and a swish. Easy two.

“That’s rookie of the year for you,” she yells at me as her teammates surround her.

She waves at the crowd to get louder, glowing with an ease I couldn’t have felt more jealous over. An ease I used to have. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Not to me. My jaw flexes and I grind my teeth together, trying to keep my composure the UConn way. She jogs past me, shooting me a smile that says “you got nothin’ on me”. The pounding in my head grows with the noise of the crowd. It’s as if they’re all mocking me, reminding me of who I used to be.

“C’mon P,” Arike screams, patting my butt as she jogs by. I glance to the sidelines, my eyes finding the dark haired girl standing by the team, clasping her hands and furrowing her brows. On top of everything now I was disappointing her too. 

-

“Fuck!” I scream, hitting the cubby as we walk into the dressing room. My anger had been growing exponentially the last few minutes of the first half, but the almost lazy deep three by Miles right in my face had been the cherry on top. It kept playing over and over in my head, the late hand, the way the crowd got on their feet and roared. My face is burning as I throw the towel over my head and groan.

“I need a minute,” I hiss, pushing out of the room as my team rolls in, past Satou and Lou into the tunnel. I rub the bridge of my nose vigorously, leaning my sweaty back against the cool tile of the walls. The whole room was spinning, all my frustration accumulated along the season peaking - all of it directed at Miles. I couldn’t handle having to face the fact it was my own doing. Blaming someone else was so much easier.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, the tapping of her heels echoing around the tunnel. I remain quiet, focusing on the ringing and pounding in my head.

“Paige,” she repeats, more sternly. I open my eyes to find her standing in front of me, looking serious as ever.

“God dammit,” I complain, sliding against the wall onto the floor, my legs bent at the knees as I lean my elbows against them.

“Get up, c’mon,” Izzie mumbles, pulling onto my forearm but with not much success. So instead she sits on the cold floor in front of me, her hands rubbing on my bare calves, not caring that they were dripping with sweat.

“What do I have to say to get you out of your head?” She asks, green eyes roaming my face. I could feel anger, frustration bubbling right underneath.

“I dunno,” I mumble. I felt imprisoned in my mind, stuck in a cage without a way out, locked in without a key. 

“Think!” She scoffs, pushing on my arm. My chest heaves as I take deep breaths, rummaging my mind for anything. “What did you do at UConn when you got in your head?”

I chuckle bitterly. “I didn’t have time to, Geno was too quick to get on my ass.”

Izzie looks at me, raising her brows. “Okay, and what would Geno say now?”

He would cuss me out, first of all. Telling me he’s never seen a person play this shit in his life. That I’m the worst person he’s ever coached, that I think I know better even though I don’t know anything. That I might as well stop playing and be benched for the rest of the season because it seems I don’t want it bad enough. That Miles wants it more than I do and that’s why she’s winning. That I’ve gotten lazy, weak. Acting like I don’t even care.

I feel a fire in the pit of my stomach, just a wavering flame now. But it’s reminiscent of something I felt what seemed like a long time ago. In March. The sense of urgency. It’s right there, it’s been there the entire time. I thought it was gone for good.

“Bueckers, inside,” Chris says as he enters the tunnel, pointing at the door. I don’t have the time or sense to say a word to Izzie as I help her off the ground. But before I turn she squeezes my arm encouragingly.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, time to wake up P. This isn’t her court, it’s yours.”

-

The gentle flame was growing, stirring within me now. Beginning of the third quarter had the crowd buzzing with newfound energy, I could feel it echoing around the court, bouncing off the walls, onto me. Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Remember who you are. This is my court. My team. I want this more than she does.

I’m face to face with Miles again as I bring the ball up the court, seeing Satou and Arike prepared for any play that I would run. I dribble the ball between my legs thinking for the smartest move, the game like a chess match in my head, when I realise I’ve got a checkmate right here.

I fake trying to push past Miles, who takes steps back accordingly. Before she has time to catch up to what I’m doing, I step back beyond the arc and get settled, letting the ball fly. I had done this a thousand times before. Please God, give it back to me.

Swish.

“Bueckers with a stepback three, and… It’s good!”

The crowd rises to its feet, cheering for my first made three in the last six games. I don’t celebrate, the UConn discipline still running blue in my veins. But Arike grins, tapping my butt when she runs past. I feel a wave of relief, looking up in a silent prayer of gratitude.

The jealousy and anger I felt towards Miles quickly turned to a newfound fire, making use of my aggression in defence. I’m quick, keeping up with her like a pest. She’s nearly completely locked down, having no other choice but to pass the ball over and over again. 

“Another steal for Bueckers, her third of the quarter. She is hot right now. Haven't seen her like this all season.”

I finish with an easy layup, Storm’s defense was not fast enough to catch up. Satou laughs, squeezing my shoulders.

“That’s our rookie!” She exclaims, and I finally allow myself a smile. I can tell Olivia’s getting frustrated as a timeout is called, walking to the bench looking down, rubbing her sweaty face. I’m back, baby.

“Bueckers scored 12 in that quarter alone, it’s looking up for her. If she keeps this up this might be her first 20 point game of the season. Something we’re used to seeing from Bueckers in college but have been waiting patiently for in the league.”

The fourth has her getting desperate, frustrated. I can see it in her eyes, even the way she’s moving with the ball. Hectic, messy. I hope Geno’s watching the game. He’d give me a tap on the shoulder now. I got Olivia Miles stressing.

Her desperate shot at a three is disrupted by my quick hand, hitting the board. Before I can even think about boxing anyone out, Arike is catching the rebound, eyes on me. It’s all I need to know what to do.

I run up the court, Miles right behind me. But I’m faster, catching the long pass from Arike. As I jump into the air for the fast layup, Miles’ body crashes into mine, both of us tumbling to the ground. My eyes remain on the ball, the adrenaline in my body making the collision that would surely bruise my shoulder feel like a playful poke. As the ball falls through the net for the finish, I hear a whistle. And one.

The crowd cheers, the team in the Wings jerseys running to me to help me up. I laugh on the ground as Miles curses, her teammates holding her back to cool her down. As I rise, Arike chest bumps me, screaming something I barely hear into my ear, too focused on watching Miles shake her team off, stomping to the refs to complain about the whistle.

“Fuck is you talkin’ bout!” I yell at Miles, to rile her up even further. Our eyes meet, her nostrils flared with frustration. My chest heaves and my body burns with confidence and a fire as I make my way to the freethrow line. I had finally arrived in Dallas. 

“Shot Clock off, ball with the Wings.”

I glance at the score, 78-80. I just need a two pointer, maybe a middie would be the best bet. I thread the ball between my legs, Miles right where she had been the entire game. In my face. She’s focused now, using her anger as fuel. I know there’s a better option than me to take this shot. Yeah I’d been hot, but I wasn’t reliable this season. I pass the ball to Arike, setting a screen for a three. But she won’t take it, passing the ball into the paint to Satou. Gabby got her way too locked down. I move to the weakside corner beyond the arc, as Satou draws in defence by working the paint, instead passing the ball to now open Arike. Defence follows, just a tiny bit too slow. But she won’t shoot it.

Arike glances at me, gets settled to draw in more of the defence leaving me completely open. Instead she passes the ball to me, her eyes locked onto my face. Expression full of confidence, telling me she believes in me. She could have shot the game-winning three, but she knew it was me who needed this win. Not her. Not the rest of the team. Me.

I let the ball fly, blue eyes following as it glides in the air. Olivia jumps, but just a little too late, stumbling as she hits the ground. It feels as if the arena is silent, the only sound is the pounding in my head as the ball comes down. Swish.

I’m not even sure what’s happening when my teammates crash into me, shoving and pushing on me hard enough to leave bruises. But I don’t care, a smile so wide on my face my cheeks begin to hurt. The crowd is on its feet, jumping up and down as I begin to jog around the court, like some sort of victory lap. In a way it sort of was.

My eyes find our bench, Chris smiling widely at me. But my gaze eventually lands on Izzie who’s jumping up and down, telling Trey to keep the camera on me. Her face is sparkling with pride and glee, the aggression and fire still in flames inside me. 

“Paige!” A reporter stops me, as I try to catch my breath, smiling with joy. “Paige, 27 points, 10 assists. Your first 20 point game of the season. First double-double of the season. Great game from you overall, how do you feel right now?”

I grin at the camera, squeezing my eyes shut from how wide my lips are spreading. “‘Bout time,” I laugh, wiping the sweat off my neck.

-

“Paige, where are we going?” I whisper as the blonde drags me by my wrist into the very familiar storage room. She wasn’t talking. Matter of fact she hadn’t said a word, gripping my arm tightly the second we entered the tunnel and pulling me away from everyone. Her fingertips were pressing tightly enough to leave a bruise, as she closes the door behind us, turning on the fluorescent light.

“Paige, you were unbelievable, I know you co-” but I’m interrupted by a starved, harsh kiss. Teeth colliding as she grabs my dark hair tenaciously, pulling on it to maneuver my movements. Her other hand finds the hem of my baby tee with ease, pulling it up to reveal the see through lace bra underneath. Suddenly my body turns to putty, knees trembling at the force which with the blonde is kissing me. Taking control in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. Just like she had of her game on the court.

“P-paige,” I gasp as her lips kiss sloppily around my jaw, getting saliva all over my face and neck. “You’ve got press soon,” I remind her, my voice weak and shaky, already a puddle between my thighs as the girl holds me, lips working me with ease.

“Shut up,” she says, a strange authoritative tone in her voice. I pull back, glancing up at her.

“Excuse me.”

But Paige grabs my jaw, eyeing me underneath her heavy lids in a way that makes me feel small. Not the one in control.

“Shut the fuck up Iz,” she hisses, pushing me harshly into the wall behind me. My breathing grows ragged, the blonde’s lips back on my neck, sucking desperately. The room is spinning, and I’m getting overwhelmingly wet at Paige’s newfound dominance. 

“You think you can just wear a skirt like this and I won’t fuck you? Nah, you’re a smart girl. You knew whatchu were doin’.” She murmurs into my ear, grabbing my thighs. There are chills running up and down my body, driving me wild.

“Paige,” I mumble, not sure what for as she pulls my shirt off, unbuckling my bra. My cheeks turn red, overwhelmed by the way she’s handling me.

“Need to see these tits,” she groans, pulling back to eye them. I feel a little unsure under the bright, unforgiving light but the look the blonde gets on her face quickly reassures me.

“Goddamn, you’re so sexy,” she moans and latches onto my nipple, her plump lips sucking on it. I bring my hands to her hair, but she grabs onto my wrists and pushes them against the cool wall. I gasp at her aggressiveness.

“But the lights,” I mumble, feeling my thighs burn as if on fire.

“Baby, you gotta keep your pretty mouth shut and lemme fuck you.”

Suddenly her fingertips are pushing against my thigh, forcing the denim skirt to ride up all the way to my waist. Her hand travels straight to my core, rubbing the fabric of my panties along the slit with her thumb. It’s no shock to me when the satin grows wet in a matter of seconds, my cunt already crying out for the blonde. A desperate whine leaves my mouth as I bite my lower lip, trying not to worry about the press conference that would be starting in a matter of minutes.

“Such a slut,” Paige hisses, kissing my breasts. I’m nearly offended, but for some reason her words were making me want her even more, making me more desperate. I had never been talked to like that before. I could feel my body submitting to her.

I’m too dumbfounded to answer when she spins me around with rough hands, pressing my front into the cold tile of the wall, hand gripping my hair to yank my head back. “Answer me. You’re a slut huh? Wantin’ me to fuck you so bad couldn’t even wait till we got home?”

“Paige,” my voice is breathy, trembling badly. She’s right of course, but my ego or my pride won’t allow the words to come out.

“You wanna cum ma?” She hisses, her breath hot in my ear. I nod eagerly, feeling my wetness begin to gather enough to drip down the insides of my thighs.

“Yes baby,” I cry out in a quiet voice. Paige grins in that familiar, arrogant way, chuckling smugly. It feels humiliating, which only drives me wilder for some reason.

“I can tell,” she teases, smacking my ass. It echoes around the tight storage room, surely loud enough to be heard from the outside. But neither of us care, especially when she swiftly hooks her fingers around my panties and pulls them down, letting them pool at my ankles. I feel the blonde move back, gripping the skin of my ass harshly to get a better view of my dripping cunt, glistening in the fluorescent light.

“Shit, ma,” she groans, unable to resist. Suddenly, three of her fingers slide into me, the stretch causing a jolt to run through my body.

I gasp loudly at the sudden intrusion, reaching back to grip Paige’s wrist. It was too much, way too intense for the setting, for me to remain quiet. But the blonde grabs onto my hand, pushing it away roughly. I nearly resist but then, her fingers curl inside me, against the soft tissue of my walls, and I nearly crash down. I let out a soft moan, nails scratching against the wall as she fucks me from behind with her fingers, my wetness gushing enough to be dripping down to her wrist and forearm.

“That’s it,” she praises, watching my ass jiggle each time she thrusts her fingers. “Goddamn I need to strap you.”

At this I let out a louder moan, the idea getting me even slicker. Paige chuckles, groaning to herself again.

“Yeah? You’d like that ma?”

I turn my head to glance back at her, cheek against the tile of the wall as I nod, eyes low with pleasure.

“Course you would,” she hisses, speeding up the movement of her fingers. “You act like you so sweet and classy, but I know you like to be fucked like a slut.”

I nod, eyes watering from how fast Paige’s fingers are curling inside my dripping cunt, the stretch turning from pain into something heavenly. I could feel my pussy squeezing her long digits, pulsing around them in desperation, gripping onto them as hard as it could.

“Tell me,” Paige says sternly, meeting my gaze. Her eyes are low and heavy, lips parted with want, hair falling out of her low pony, onto her face.

“Like the way you fuck me P,” I whine, embarrassed by the words. But it only riles the blonde on, as she brings her other hand to my front, reaching down to start rubbing tight, fast circles on my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, eyes rolling back as the pit in my stomach grows almost humiliatingly fast. The sound of the squelching a constant reminder of how much, no matter what I liked to pretend, Paige was the one to have control over me, instead of me over her. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl,” she groans, pressing sloppy kisses into my neck.

“I-” I gasp, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten and tighten, on the edge of bursting. “I’m close.”

“You wanna cum?” She asks to which I nod. “Ask nicely.”

I groan, eyes rolling back. I never liked being told what to do. But the way Paige’s fingers were slipping in and out of me, hitting the perfect spot to make me drip all over her hand, was making me weak, desperate. I would do anything right now. Just to cum. The idea of that felt filthy.

“Please P, please let me cum,” I whine, mind completely blank and forgotten about the press conference, or the possibility of people outside. No, the only thing that existed was me, Paige and her heavy breathing in my ear. “Please,” I cry out, doing everything I can to hold back.

“Good girl,” she coos into my eyes, nuzzling my neck with her nose. “Come on mama, cum.”

Obediently, my body finally rolls over the edge, trembling and shaking as Paige’s hands work my cunt skillfully. I’m gasping for air, the waves of pleasure making goosebumps rise all over my skin, my nipples hardening against the tile. My eyes roll back in ecstasy as the blonde pumps her fingers harshly, eventually slowing down to let me ride it out.

We’re both breathing loudly when she finally pulls away, leaving me with a strange kind of emptiness. I dress in silence, Paige watching me closely. Once I’m all covered up, she walks over and presses a kiss on my forehead. I hum, checking my phone.

“Shit, Paige you must go,” I hurry her, unlocking the door back into the tunnels. Empty, thank God. “You’re late, everyone’s looking for you.”

“Aight, I’m going,” she sighs, about to step out when she turns back around, grabbing my face and kissing it. I kiss her back, smiling against her lips.

“Go!” I giggle, pushing her away.

“Fine!” She laughs, walking out of the room backwards, to keep watching me for as long as she possibly could.

“That was some game Bueckers,” I tell her, which only makes her smile even more as she turns around and begins to jog towards the conference.

-

“And that three at the end was insane! Dude, you were all in Olivia’s face she looked like she was going to cry honestly…” Kiran explains excitedly, hands flailing around the air as he reimagines his favourite moments of the game. I grin, leaning back in the booth and sipping my hard earned beer. Arike nods, as engaged in the conversation as the boy beside me, clapping her hands together loudly.

“Yo, when Miles got into the refs faces I thought she was gon’ get a tech for sureeee,” Rike chimes in, barely containing her grin. 

“Keep playing like that and we got rookie of the year right here,” Lou smiles, clinking the glass bottle with mine. I smile bashfully, looking around the bar a little embarrassed. It was a dingy, quiet one with low lighting, filled with people but we were definitely the loudest ones here.

“Fuck rookie of the year, how’ bout we get that ring,” Arike says confidently. I cover my face with my hand. We both knew that it would be far from our reach this year, but perhaps after a few years of playing together we could have a shot. It was bound to happen. Still, as I got to know Arike more, I learned she liked to exaggerate.

“Aight, enough,” I tell them, patting Kiran on the shoulder. “Let’s get you another drink,” I smile, waving the waitress over.

“Iz will be mad if you get me drunk,” he jokes.

I shrug, finishing my beer. “Let her, it’s your last night here.”

The waitress walks over, long braids and a sweet, Texas smile on her face as she approaches.

“What can I get y’all?” She asks. There’s a perky lilt to her voice, a glimmer in her eye that was far too familiar to me. Her brown eyes stay on mine, before looking me up and down noticeably. 

“Two beers,” I simply say, not so affected by the clear hints the girl was giving me although she was clearly gorgeous. Honestly, since I met Iz, I couldn’t even think about another girl. Who would’ve thought. College me would be flabbergasted.

“Nothin’ else for you baby?” She asks, the pet name making Kiran snicker underneath his breath. I grin in a polite way, shaking my head at the waitress. 

“Nah, thank you, we’re good.”

She nods, getting the hint. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

“Wow, that’s brave,” Kiran laughs as the waitress walks away. “Thinking you’re a lesbian.”

Me, Arike and Lou all turn to Kiran, raising our brows at the same time.

“Hollup,” Arike says, pointing at me. “You think this girl right here is straight?”

Suddenly Kiran’s face turns red, eyes flickering between me and the woman next to me.

“Uhh,” he mumbles. “I mean, Izzie said you’re gay but I thought that was just her joking around.”

At the same exact time, Arike and Lou burst into a choir of laughter, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile as well.

“Oh Kiran,” Lou gasps between laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He had honestly become almost like a little brother only in the week he had spent with us. I knew I’d miss him once he was gone.

“W- So,” He mumbles, looking at me. “You’re gay?”

I nod, pressing my lips together in a tight smile. “Yeah, Kiran, I’m gay.”

“Ohhhh,” he says in realisation. “That makes sense then.”

“You know me and Lala ain’t just friends either?” Arike jokes, making the boy roll his eyes, much like his sister would. God I missed her, but she had to stay behind after the post game conference to schedule some content. Still, even a couple hours apart felt like torture.

“Well yes, you’ve got your hand on her ass 24/7.”

We all chuckle, as the waitress returns, holding two beer bottles in her hands.

“Thank you,” I grin, grabbing it from her. She flashes me a wide smile, before returning behind the bar.

“So why won’t you ask her out then?” Kiran asks, pointing to the pretty waitress with his bottle.

I shift nervously, rummaging my head for an excuse.

“Is she not your type?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” I quickly answer, looking at the girls beside me for any help. But both of them are looking away, pretending to be engaged in a conversation of their own. Traitors.

“Uh, just wanna focus on hoops for a bit.”

Kiran chuckles. “Well, you don’t have to look for a relationship. Why not get with her just for a shag.”

“Uhh, well,” I mumble, my face turning red. Just as Kiran begins to wave the waitress over, Izzie’s voice stops him.

“Are you drinking again?” She scolds her brother. I turn my head to find her standing behind me, arms crossed and face scrunched. I guess it had been a stressful evening for her. My heart aches, wanting nothing more than to sit her beside me, let her order anything she wanted and drive her home to take care of her, to allow her to relax. Every cell in my being wanted to serve her.

“Paige said it’s okay,” Kiran argues. Her green eyes flicker to me, making me nervous and regretful. 

“Paige,” she scoffs, everyone around us laughing at our dynamic.

“‘M sorry, it’s the beer. It’s bad for my judgement,” I whine, earning a smile from the girl. It makes me want to burst.

“You’re a constant pain my ass Paige,” she jokes, signalling for her brother to stand up so she can sit beside me. The minute I feel her bare thigh pressing into mine, my body calms down, all my muscles relaxing miraculously.

“I think you like it,” I whisper into her ear, giving her cheek a kiss. Platonic enough to seem friendly to her brother.

“So,” Kiran says, leaning forward. “Paige thinks that waitress is fit.”

Oh God. I watch as Izzie’s eyes follow where her brother is pointing, eyeing the girl before looking at me. Her gaze sharpens, entire demeanor growing tense.

“Oh,” she mutters, furrowing her dark brows. “I see.”

“No, no, that’s not what I said,” I immediately jump in, scolding Kiran. But he simply shakes his head.

“I reckon she should go ask for her number, what do you think Iz?”

The girl shifts so our sides aren’t touching anymore, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s upset, a blind man could tell. 

“I think Paige can do what she wants,” she says coldly, avoiding my gaze. Arike covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

“Kiran,” Rike hisses, trying to get him to stop. It’s no use.

“Yeah, she came over and was calling her baby and everything,” Kiran continues, my cheeks burning bright red now. 

“I see, well that’s nice,” Izzie mumbles, pulling out her phone just to slide back and forth between her home screens. “Go ahead, do it.”

“No Iz, c’mon,” I say, my hand coming to stroke her thigh gently underneath the table. But she pulls away. I couldn’t lie though, there was a part of me feeling satisfied - Izzie liked me enough to get upset over something like this.

I exhale, knowing this might be stupid move. But I couldn’t bare to have Izzie upset with me. “Kiran, I’m already sorta seeing someone,” I say hesitantly, knowing this was the only way. “She’s awesome, Ion wanna ruin it. I’m so into her.”

Izzie’s green eyes turn to me, our gazes meeting. Her face softens, and slowly she presses against my side again. I feel flutters overwhelming my chest, wanting nothing more than to kiss her right now.

“Oh, my apologies,” Kiran says understandingly, though his hazel eyes remain on me and Iz, watchful.

“Is it someone I know?” He asks.

Me and Izara stare into each other for a moment, and I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Maybe her brother deserved to know, maybe he would even like us being together. He certainly liked me, and I liked him.

But the reality is, no one should know, and far too many people already did. As much as I wanted to show everyone she was mine, to shout it from the rooftops, I wanted to keep her here much more.

“Uh, no,” I mumble, finally breaking eye contact. Iz does the same, smiling awkwardly at her brother. Kiran nods, eyes flickering between me and his sister for a while.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Lou complains, eyes skimming the bar. “They do any food here?”

“I think so,” Izzie says, standing up in the booth to look for a menu, until she spots a pile of them stacked at the corner of the bar. “I hope they have mozzarella sticks.”

“You and your damn mozzarella sticks,” I laugh, still aware of Kiran’s hazel eyes locked on me and Iz. I ignore it, standing up with Izara and following her to the bar. She grabs the maroon menu with her slender fingers decorated with gold rings, skimming over the pages.

“They do have mozzarella sticks!” She grins. I smile at her warmly, her excitement heating up my chest. “You girls probably want some wings huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” I smile, leaning over her shoulder to read the menu from behind her. Discreetly, the girl presses her butt into my hips, ever so slightly leaning backwards to send jolts all over my body. My hands are itching to touch her, to hold her waist - in an attempt to resist I slide them into the pocket of my hoodie, keeping them restricted.

“Kiran too, and maybe some fries?” She asks. I turn around, yelling to Kiran over the chatter of the bar. 

“Yo, Kiran,” I shout. “Whatchu want?”

Izzie murmurs something, but I barely hear her, trying to make sense of what Kiran is trying to reply all the way from our booth.

“Paigeuhh!” Izzie whines, her hand reaching up and yanking on my sleeve, and then my hood, in an attempt to get my attention. But I don’t turn, because I can see Kiran’s movements stop for a millisecond, eyes suddenly widening in shock, realisation finally hitting him. It’s then I remember the story of Izara, and her childhood crush, and the pulling on the hood. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

We stare at each other, frozen in time. I rummage my mind for a reason, for an excuse, for anything I could use to hide what’s been going on. But the evidence is stacked against us and for the first time, Kiran is finally realising it.

He stands up from the booth, walking briskly to me and Izzie. For a second I think he’s just going to blurt it out, chew Izzie off for not telling him. And I know she’d blame me for it, maybe even start questioning our relationship. I feel my chest aching, my breathing getting heavy.

“Oh, Ki, should we get fries?” Izara asks, oblivious to the past half a minute as her pretty green eyes skim the menu. 

“Paige, you got a sec? Can we talk?” Kiran asks, with the authoritative, stern voice of his sister. I knew they were similar, but in this moment as the boy’s face hardened, the family resemblance really came through.

“Uh, sure,” I mumble, cheeks burning up. I hand Izzie my card, tapping her on the arm as platonically as I can, now feeling bashful under Kiran’s knowing eyes. “Order whatever you want Iz.”

Me and Kiran walk around the bar, to the terrace buzzing with people, clumsy and tipsy with alcohol. It smells like dried up beer, and sunscreen as we push through to a less crowded corner, me following right behind the boy.

Finally he stops, turning around. There’s a moment he doesn’t speak, and I think he’s about to punch me. But as he exhales, a sly smile grows on his face,

“Man, I had a feeling something was up. I’ve never seen Izzie acting like that around her friends,” he chuckles, but I’m still having a hard time reading how he really feels about it. For a moment I consider just lying, pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about. But it’s too late, and I’m too tired. I want him to know.

“Kiran, I shoulda said sumn,” I murmur, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Nah, my sister should have,” Kiran says, sipping his beer.

“She’s just tryna protect us, we’re tryna keep it on the low y’know,” I immediately defend Izzie.

“No, I understand,” he nods, thinking for a while. “I just feel so stupid. She came out to me a few years ago, before, y’know, Jasper, but I didn’t believe her. I just thought she was one of those girls who wanted to be interesting by saying they like girls too. Never thought she’d actually… Be with a girl.”

I swallow, looking at my feet. “Is that bad? That… uh, that she’s with a girl?”

“No, not at all,” Kiran immediately stops me, making his stance on the thing clear. “She’s just been through so much, I worry about her. She always picks the wrong people.”

I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, so I heard,” I say. “But I’m not like that. Would rather die than hurt that girl.”

He looks at me, wondering. “So is this like a thing-thing, or just something casual?”

I meet his hazel eyes. “We ain’t talk yet,” I say truthfully. “But personally? I’m pretty locked down.”

Kiran keeps watching me.

“She’s amazing, wouldn’t even dream of hurtin’ her.”

“Good, because if you do, we got trouble,” he says, and I believe him. Truthfully, it’s her who could really hurt me. Not the other way around.

“I’m countin’ on that,” I grin. After a moment of hesitation, Kiran wraps an arm around me, and hugs me just for a moment, patting my back.

“You’re a good person, I know you’ll take care of her.”

“Always gonna,” I hug him back, before pulling away.

“We shouldn’t tell her that I know, she’s going to freak out.”

I laugh. “Yeah, let’s just keep it between us, yeah?”

“Just so you know,” Kiran chuckles as we begin to head back inside. “If this ends badly I’m always siding with her.”

I laugh, finishing my beer. “Yeah, I’d side with her too.”

“Oh, you got it that bad?”

“Worse.”

-

“Passport? Charger? Wallet? Waterbottle? Did you remember to pack your jersey?” I ask as me and Kiran head towards TSA, Paige following a little behind.

“You’re acting like I didn’t make a list,” Kiran groans, earning a snicker from the blonde.

“Okay and you still forget stuff so what’s your point?”

My brother stops, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me reassuringly. “Izara, I have everything. Stop worrying. You’re being like mum.”

The truth was I wasn’t worrying about his luggage, I was worrying about him leaving. My chest ached with anxiety and dread, thinking of the moment we had to say goodbye. I loved Dallas, but my God I wanted my brother here more than anything.

“Okay,” I sigh, fully aware that it was time to say goodbye. I wanted to delay the moment, do anything to push it back just a minute more. But there was no choice, I’d have to face it sometime. Paige, noticing my anxiety, places a big hand on my shoulder and rubs. It’s a comforting and grounding presence that I’m glad to have right now.

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Kiran comforts me. I nod, feeling my eyes begin to well up. Great. I hate crying in front of people.

My brother turns to Paige, smiling in a way that meant something more, but what? I couldn’t tell.

“Take care of her,” Kiran says before hugging the blonde. Paige pats his upper back, nodding as she really takes the words in, like they mean more than what’s being said.

“Always, you take care bro.”

“And come to London, Izzie will bring you.”

I scoff. “I will?”

“You must,” Kiran smiles, pulling back. “And don’t be too hard on her,” he says half jokingly, turning to me. I’m not sure what he means, but before I can ask, he’s wrapping his arms around me. I hug him back, fighting the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ll miss you,” I simply say, wishing I could keep my brother here forever.

“I’ll miss you too Iz,” he replies, his voice softer than usual. 

“Tell mum and dad I said hi.”

“Okay.”

“And text me when you land.”

“Okay.”

“A-and when you board.”

“Iz,” he laughs, pulling back. “I’ll text you the entire way home, okay?”

I nod, exhaling heavily before letting my hands fall to my side from around him. My eyes burn, my throat feels like it’s about to close. But I don’t cry. I refuse.

“Okay, see you,” he flashes that bright, familiar smile, grabbing his carry-on and finally turning around.

“Safe travels,” I mumble, watching as he stands in the queue, waiting for his turn. Paige’s arm snakes around my waist comfortingly as I chew on my bottom lip, anxiety washing over me. I lean my head to her side, not caring about Kiran possibly noticing.

“C’mon,” Paige says carefully, “Let's go home.”

The drive is silent, as I stare out the window, trying to ignore the pain spreading over my chest and throat. It’s like Dallas knew that Kiran left, the sky a gloomy grey and the mixture of humidity and heat making it overbearing and sticky. There’s a storm brewing. You could feel it. The air shifts, the wind picks up.

Paige walks me to my door, leaning against the frame as I take off my shoes.

“You okay mama?” The blonde asks, watching me closely. The moment she does, I burst into tears, finally getting relief from the burning of my eyes. Without hesitating for a second, Paige steps in and wraps me in her arms, like a cocoon of comfort, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” she comforts, holding me tightly and kissing the top of my head. “Shh, you’re okay Iz.”

She scoops me in her arms, like I’m the lightest person in the world. I cling to her, holding onto her hood as she’s walking me to my couch and placing me down as carefully as she could. Before I can even notice she’s brought me snacks, water, tissues and there’s a movie on, though I’m barely watching, my eyes wet and red with tears.

“I hate goodbyes,” I sniffle.

“I know,” Paige mumbles softly, wiping a tear from my soft cheek, her fingertips cold against my skin.

“Thanks for staying.”

Paige scoots herself between me and the corner of the couch, letting me sit in her lap while she holds me all evening, simply letting me cry. Not trying to distract me, or make me feel bad. She simply lets me feel it all, making me feel safe to do so for the first time in years.

-

My arm grows tingly and numb, but I’m too afraid to move it in case it might disturb the sleeping girl. Izzie’s eyes are closed, long lashes pressed against her cheeks as she breathes heavily in her slumber. Her face is puffy and red from crying, lips uncharacteristically chapped from all the biting. I kiss her forehead gently, pulling my arm from under her as carefully as I possibly could.

I stop as she stirs, but quickly becomes motionless again, giving me a chance to escape just for a moment. I climb over the corner of the couch, fixing the blanket over the girl. It felt special to know she felt comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with me. I knew it wasn’t easy for her. Yet she still lets me take care of her like this. Not Trey, not Jasper, me.

I take light steps into her bedroom, rummaging my brain for any sort of chapstick she might have. I check her purse, but there’s nothing. No sign of chapstick. Frustrated, I begin to go through the drawers of her nightstand, finally getting to the bottom one. I kneel over it, moving piles of neatly organised papers out of the way when I see it.

Together with their parents, Jasper Hughes and Izara Chopra  request the honor of your presence at their wedding on June 20th 2025 at one o’clock in the afternoon Syon Park Brent Lea, Brentford Reception immediately after Black tie required

The words are printed on a thick, cream coloured paper that feels silky to the touch, heavy in my hands. It’s clean, timeless - the calligraphy gold-embellished and elegant against a backdrop of soft ivory, a silk ribbon carelessly left open around it. My blue eyes read it again and again before I take it in. A wedding. Izara’s wedding. Izzie’s and Jasper’s. Wedding. A wedding I had never heard about. A past kept hidden from me, for a reason I didn’t want to find out.

I drop the invite back into the drawer, crashing down onto the ground, frustration growing within me. My chest heaves and feels tight, like I might be sick. Why would she have kept this from me? She was engaged? The room feels like closing in, my eyes burning hot all of a sudden.

I feel like a joke, checking the date on my phone. June 20th. Kiran had come here to be with her so she could make it through this time. And here I was comforting her, over something I thought was completely different thinking we were something more. I felt like a fool, like an idiot. Just a rebound to someone who had been getting married. Fucking married. Without telling me. I thought we told each other everything.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers @ohmybueckers @potatobears-world @st4yyyy @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @paige05bby @paigebaby5

[marigold-hills]

Regulus reads the ransom letter over French toast. There’s a half-grapefruit waiting for him, a cup of aromatic coffee, and a pot of Darjeeling. By all accounts, it’s the perfect breakfast.

Dear Lady Black, the letter reads, in a cursive written by someone who can’t write in cursive, I am sorry to say I have abducted your son, Master Regulus Black. Don’t worry, he is perfectly safe and will remain so, however if you would like to… the letter continues in such a manner. Even Regulus isn’t sure if he’d been kidnapped (sorry, abducted), or if he has simply popped out for a day with an old friend. There is only a vague mention of ransom – never mind the amount – and the man had signed with his full name.

“James Potter?”

“Yes?” the man – James – responds. Perks up.

“That’s really your name? And you put it in the letter?”

“Seemed the polite thing to do.”

“Are you dumb?”

James looks somewhere between affronted and amused. Not how people usually answer to being insulted.

Regulus twirls the fork in his fingers, and it turns into a rather smart – albeit still silver – quill. He’s always been adept at transfiguration. James snags on the movement, takes in a sharp breath. A click of fingers and the parchment turns blank.

To Her Excellence Lady Black, Regulus writes, using his non-dominant hand to obscure his handwriting. The words are rendered in a non-recognisable, but still stunning cursive.

As you are by now no doubt aware, your son Master Regulus Black has been kidnapped. At present he is safe and well. Please see attached a lock of his hair as confirmation.

No physical harm shall befall him, provided you follow the instructions I give you. Should you not, his death will not be swift.

Do not, for any reason, attempt to communicate with the Auror department or any private agency.

Before end of the week, secure 20 thousand galleons in old currency.

The galleons must be placed in a large cigar box, securely closed and wrapped in white paper. Remain at home and alert until midnight on Saturday and await further instructions.

Regulus signs the letter with an unreadable squiggle in place of a name, then twirls the silver quill around his fingers – it turns into a sharp, simple dagger. He cuts off a lock of his hair from behind an ear, where the disruption won’t be visible. Vanity, as always, present.

James stares dumbly as Regulus hands him the hair.

“Secure it and put it in the envelope with the letter.”

“Why?”

“She can see my magical signature in it. Will know that I’m alive and you’re not just trying to extort money for a corpse.”

“Huh,” James looks struck with something. “Clever. Never knew you could do that.” He takes the letter and reads through it, promptly choking on his tea. “20 thousand? Are you insane?”

Regulus doesn’t respond. Changes the dagger back into a fork (and James’ eyes get stuck on that, again), and goes back to his breakfast.

“That’s way too much money.”

“And how much were you going to ask for?”

“I don’t know. Five hundred?”

“Five… five hundred? That’s just insulting. Are you trying to be insulting?”

“What?”

“You think I’m worth five hundred galleons? The heir of the House of Back? Five hundred?”

Regulus is furious. Not only has he been kidnapped (abducted) by a moron: the moron thinks him worthless.

“Five hundred galleons is a lot of money.”

“Sure. If you’re poor,” Regulus argues, “you want five hundred? Here,” he takes the cheapest ring off his fingers and drops it on the table in front of James, “this is worth about double, pawn it and keep the change.”

James twirls the ring around his fingers. “Very pretty,” he smiles, slipping it on, rubbing the little leaf motif engraved in the silver, “you walk around with thousands worth of jewellery on you? Surprised nobody kidnapped you before.”

“I thought I was abducted.”

James looks downright delighted by the answer.

[senpazzi]

The Way I Speak About You

pairing: singlefather!Johnny Suh x Afab!Reader

part 1 found: here

synopsis: you and johnny were the epitome of right person, wrong time. with your best friends’ wedding coming up soon, the only person that you relied on being your date was johnny. despite him being out of your life for 6 years, he also had a daughter.

warnings: smut, single dad johnny, reader is a workaholic and an over-thinker, your best friends name isn’t mentioned (do wtv u please w this info), heavy language, drinking, alcohol, etc.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been 2 weeks since the park meeting with Johnny. The rest of the day was spent catching up on each other's lives. How work was for both of you, living alone in the city? You even got to talk to Katie and enjoy playing with her on the swing set as Johnny pushed both of you.

During the 2 weeks, you’ve been talking to Johnny almost every day now. Facetimes becoming a regular thing before and after work. He told you how he closed on a deal selling a house that was almost worth a million. Not only was Johnny a handsome wealthy guy, but the way he treated Katie erupted something in you.

Seeing the man that you loved years ago, being a domestic and careful dad was exuding, to say the least. Johnny on the other hand could say similar things about you. To him, you were the most determined and passionate woman ever. You owned up to your mistakes and you worked for what you wanted. Yet, you haven’t 100% come clean to Johnny about how you were feeling.

Early on in the week, it was another morning after an overnight shift for you at the hospital. To say the least, you were drained. Your eye bags felt like they were growing eye bags. The only thing you looked forward to was coming home to Facetime Johnny.

After getting cleaned and comfortable in bed, you rang the man. On the second ring, he answered. Your eyes widened the instant you saw him. His hair was wet and sticking to his face, his chest was bare and his shoulder tattoo was on display. He looked hot. You could’ve choked just by his image alone.

“Oh sorry, Y/n I just got out of the shower, Katie was having a hard time sleeping last night so I couldn’t shower before bed,” he shyly chuckled as his face turned red in the camera. Secretly, if this was the outcome, then you prayed she had a hard time sleeping every night.

You cleared your throat and shook your head with a smile. “No omg, you’re good. Poor baby, I hope everything is better later tonight,” liar.

Johnny smiled nodding along to your words. “Me too, it hurts really because you know Stephanie was good at soothing her to bed when she was younger. It’s been over a year but she hasn’t gotten used to it,” he shrugged as if it was just an easy realization.

You solemnly nodded, your smile faltering a bit at the fact. “Try reading her bedtime stories, or talking to her before bed. It’ll tire her out,” you suggested surely.

“You know, she’s much more interested in hearing you talk. She said she loves talking with the pretty lady I’m always on the phone with,” Johnny assured you with a smile as he propped the phone up. He exited the frame for a few moments and returned with a pair of grey sweatpants on his lower body.

His abs glistening and on display. “Which also had me thinking, I think me and Katie would love to have you over for dinner this Saturday,” he brought up firmly. He grabbed a bottle of lotion before lathering it all over his arms.

Your eyes widened. Like a date? No, there’s no way. You blinked rapidly at the sudden idea. “Really? I mean I’m not opposed but that’s a little intimate. Dinner just us three?” you asked reassuringly.

His smile never left. Only growing. He nodded as he graced his arms with the liquid. “Yes Y/n it’s a little much I understand but, I like you. Katie knows I like you, and she likes you too. Don’t you think it’s a little weird for us to pretend to be dating for this wedding and we can’t even sit and have dinner together?” he asked curiously reading your expression into the camera.

He was right of course. “Well, yeah no you’re right I just wanted to make sure this is really what you want I mean. Where do you want to go?” you nervously jumbled out. A date with Johnny and his daughter was amazing just as it was terrifying. You haven’t eaten alone with Johnny in years. And how would Katie react to it genuinely? A new woman with her dad? Would it confuse her?

Johnny let out a soft chuckle looking into your eyes the best way he could via Facetime. “Y/n you seriously don’t think a dinner with you and my daughter won’t make me happy? Two very important girls that I love eating with me are all I want in this world right now,” he admitted with a grin tugging on his face. His heart felt like it was skipping a beat. Of course, Johnny never hid his feelings for you. But the rejection you bestowed on him years ago stuck. But honestly, the guy had nothing to lose. But he knew for sure that he couldn’t lose you again.

“The day you called me was one of the happiest days I’ve had in a long time Y/n. And the day we came back from the park and hearing Katie ramble about you made me even happier,” he continued running his fingers through his hair.

“My love for you never went away, I prayed someday to have you back in my life. With school being over and you finally having your career, I hope you can make the time for me now. So we can be happy together. Is that okay? Is it okay for us to start to work towards something Y/n?” Johnny plead his case to you. If only he knew that this love wasn’t one-sided, but how could you admit that to him?

How could you admit that you were too scared to give up a piece of yourself to him back then? That you know any argument or misunderstanding would lead to you spiraling and feeling like a failure? You were always a perfectionist. You blamed school on your insecurity on why you couldn’t be with Johnny. And everyone knew that except for him.

You sighed and looked away nervously from the screen taking a deep breath before formulating your sentence. You face the camera and smile once more looking at his handsome face. His beautiful eyes. The plea in his eyes.

“I’ll go to dinner with you and Katie, I’d love that more than anything Johnny,”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What?!” your best friend cursed aloud on the phone, her face in shock on the Facetime screen. She was getting dolled up for the Bachelorette party tonight at you guys’ favorite bar that you’ve been going to since you were 20-year-old college kids with fake IDs. She thought it would be a bittersweet way to celebrate the end of her 20s and enter a mature and devoted marriage with Derrick.

You sat on the other line, combing your hair as you sighed thinking about how to continue with the bomb you dropped on her. “He asked me out on a date, it’s not a big deal. We’ve been talking for 2 weeks again as friends, maybe it’s just a friend date. Plus, we have to get more acquainted since the wedding is in 2 weeks,” you tried to calmly batter out as you fluffed the curls in your hair.

Your best friend scoffed grabbing the phone as you heard her jingle her keys to walk out of her apartment door. “Y/n you’re fuckin’ insane, I don’t understand how you’re being so nonchalant about this. He’s finally taking you on a date. A real date! It’s been like 6 years and he’s still in love with you, that’s amazing!” your best friend lectured you as you heard her get in the Uber. “This is to Club Atlantis correct?” she asked the driver before getting in the car.

“God you’re so silly, he’s a guy who’s simply taking his old friend to dinner. He’s much too busy with Katie and works to focus on an old crush,” you bluntly downplayed as you grabbed your keys and purse before walking to the door of your apartment. “I’ll see you in about 15 okay? Let’s enjoy your Bachelorette party and stop fuckin’ worrying about guys okay?” you cheered into the phone as you searched for your Uber as well.

“Okay Y/n babes, see you soon,” your best friend graced before hanging up.

You waved goodbye to the Facetime as you hopped in your Uber as well, heading to the club.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The club was packed. It was a Friday night, 11 pm. The LED lights were purple and there was a hazy hue in the building mixed with scents of cigarettes, marijuana, and vapes. Alcohol was everywhere, bodies were everywhere, and music beaming. This hadn’t been your scene in ears, and to be honest it never really was.

“Hey boo!” a familiar voice rang in your ears, seeing your best friend running up to hug you with a bottle of dark liquor in her hand. Surrounding her were some familiar faces. Her older sister, and your other two mutual friends Danielle and Skylar. Now the rest of the bodies? Probably haven’t seen it since college or have never seen it at all.

Your smile graced your face leaning into hug all the ladies, greeting them and kissing their cheeks as they did with you. “Hey girls!” you greeted as you scoped around the scenery, seeing your friends dressed in skimpy dresses or two pieces complimented with heels that were going to swell their feet later.

“Take a shot!” your best friend's sister shouted as she took the bottle from her hand, motioning for you to tilt your chin back.

You rolled your eyes playfully, opening on command as the girls counted to 3 as they poured the liquor. Your face scowled, yet you drank the warmth. All the girls cheered and clapped smiling at you. Some are already drunk.

“Okay bitch! Time to turn the fuck up!” Danielle screamed grabbing your best friend's arm and leading the group to a private section they had rented. “Come on Y/n!” your best friend pulled you along as the girls sang to the chorus of the song blasting through the Club.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night was chaotic. You lost count of the number of shots you took. You lost count of the number of times one of the girls yakked in the bathroom. You lost count of the number of guys you curved away from you and your group.

Everything was becoming blurry. Senses loosened. No one in your group was in their right mind. It was 2 am and 6 drunk women and a bride-to-be were shitfaced in a club filled with 20-somethings with no morals left right now.

You are one of them. You chuckled and turned to your best friend who was slumped on the velvet couch sweaty from all the dances she danced in the last few hours. You whispered to her cheekily with the idea that sparked in your drunken mind.

“Should I text Johnny that I miss him?” you giggled out stupidly at the idea. Your best friend's eyes widened and your mouth erupted into laughter. She hit your chest playfully and motioned to your phone. “Girl, you’re too fuckin’ much. Tell him you love him and have a good night,” she egged on before looking to face her sisters and friends gossiping about the background of you and Johnny’s relationship.

You picked up the phone and dialed Johnny’s number. “Be right back!” you squealed as you walked to the restroom holding the phone to your ear.

It was late, of Johnny was asleep in bed when you called. On the third ring, Johnny groaned looking over to his nightstand next to his bed to see your contact picture appear on the screen of his phone. He stretched a bit before picking up the phone and checking the time. “Hello? Y/n it’s late, are you okay?” he asked groggily.

His sleepy voice. Fuck, was it enough to turn you on while you were sober, but right now? Girl, you were trying not to moan in response to the sound of his voice. You sat on the sink, swinging your feet as you slumped against the cool tile wall of the bathroom. “Johnny-“ you dragged out with a hum. “I miss you, the Bachotlette was so much fun,” you whined out with a pout.

Johnny sighed into the phone and rubbed his temples. “Y/n, are you drunk right now?” he asked with a stern tone. His brows furrowed as he pulled the blankets off his body and searched around for some clothes.

“Nooo!” you dragged as your brows furrowed at his assumptions. But of course you were. Anyway could tell. Who couldn’t know that you were? “But I miss you, Johnny, we’re at Club Atlantis like how we used to always go together! You, me, Derrick, Steph, everyone!” you mindlessly called against the phone.

Lucky for you, Katie was spending the night at her cousin’s house with Uncle Mark and his wife. “Here I come Y/n, stay with the girls until I get there and I’ll take you home okay?” Johnny asked of you as he slipped on a T-shirt and some sweatpants. Sliding his feet into some sandals.

You bit your lip at his command. He was coming to get you? You squealed in excitement into the phone, causing Johnny to pull away from his device for a moment. “Johnny you’re coming to get me! I wanna stay at your house, I bet it’s so nice and big,” you emphasized at the end of the sentence biting your lip cheekily.

Johnny’s eyes widened at your words, clearing his throat at your antics. He shook his head and sighed in relief before grabbing his keys and heading to his car. “Please stay put Y/n, I’ll be there soon okay?” he begged of you before starting the engine of his car and pulling out of the driveway.

“Yes, Johnny! See you soon! Mwah!” you kissed the speaker of the phone and hung up, walking out of the bathroom back to the section filled with your friends who were getting up slowly. They were bumping and slumping everywhere, boy did y'all have time tonight?

Your best friend smiled cheekily at you. “How did it go?” she asked cocking her head to you matching your smile. “He’s my ride tonight, he’ll be here in like 15?” you boasted to the girls, receiving a bunch of cheers and claps from the crew. “That’s my girl!” your bestie cheered on.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were now in the passenger seat of Johnny’s car, fastened up in the seatbelt with your head lying on the cold glass of the window.

Johnny was driving back to his house, his gaze repeatedly following the road but as well trailing off to you. “You had fun tonight didn’t you?” he asked rhetorically as he giggled to himself.

You nodded, “mhm!” you hummed as your eyes began to shut. “More fun now that I’m with you,” you sluggishly whispered out.

Johnny sighed and shook his head once more. “Poor Y/n, a lightweight as usual. You always say the silliest things when you’re drunk,” he reminded you. “Just like that time, we were in school and drank at the dorm. Told me you loved me even though I and Stephanie were just getting together,” he brought up a bit meekly.

Your eyes opened and faced his soft gaze. “I won't lie, not even while drunk Johnny,” you brought up as he reminisced in the moment. “I’m having fun with you now, and I did love you. Always have,” you shyly admitted feeling your cheeks turn red.

Suddenly it felt like the alcohol washed away. Realistically it didn’t, but you knew that what you were saying wasn’t the result of the liquor. It was the truth. The most honest you’ve been and of course it sucked that you brought it out in this state. But the honesty behind it was never watered down like it was when you’re sober.

Johnny’s breath hitched at your confession. It’s not like he was surprised honestly. But it was more so he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. If you love him, why turn him down? Why be so inconsistent? Why not have been with him this entire time? He shook his head remaining silent. You could talk with him about this at another time right? Preferably when you were sober. If you could even remember this conversation at least.

Shortly Johnny pulled into his driveway. Parking his car and shutting off the engine, swiftly gets out and comes to the passenger side to help you out. “Come on Y/n, let’s help you out here okay?” he asked as he unbuckled your seatbelt for you and took your hand in his.

You stumbled out of the car due to your crazy heels and altered feeling of senses. But thankfully you were able to latch on to Johnny’s large frame as he guided you inside the house. Of course, you were right about the house being nice and big. Complimented with warm-toned furniture and hardwood floors. Adorned with beautiful portraits of him and his family, including the adorable Katie.

He guided you to the guest room, a simple queen-sized bed with white sheets and a TV parallel to it. You gasped at the room. “Johnny! I didn’t know you had a guest room,” you stupidly reacted looking at the scarcely decorated space which caused him to giggle.

“Have a seat Y/n,” he gently instructed leading you to sit on the edge of his bed. He got on one knee lightly lifting your ankle to untie your heel. Your breath hitched seeing him in the angle. He was focused and careful, his eyes carefully averted away from your bare legs.

“Johnny,” you whined softly as you cocked your head to the side to eye him.

“Hm?” he softly responded as both of your heels were in the palms of his hands. He rose back up to his feet, leaving the shoes near the edge of the bed. He hovered over you, his tall and broad frame standing above you. But not intimidatingly, lovingly. His eyes looked softly at yours as your expression was meek. “What’s wrong Y/n?” he questioned.

Your heartbeat is louder at the way he spoke to you. The gentleness and care this man poured onto you was one of the first things that drew you to him. It’s not surprising that that’s never changed. “I told you I was having fun with you and you’re pushing me away to bed so early,” you complained rolling your eyes at him with a bratty expression to go along with it.

Johnny wasn’t annoyed surprisingly. You would think he would be. You called him out of his sleep begging for his attention and had him drive miles out to get you. But to Johnny, if this was one of the only ways to care for you, he’d take it. He’d drive hours to be with you. He’d care for you, in any state whether it’s drunk or sober. Better him than anyone else.

“Ah, Y/n please don’t start that tonight,” he says as he pulls the blanket away and guides you to rest on the plush mattress. “Rest, we have plans for tomorrow night, right? Our dinner with Katie? I’d hate for you to miss it cause’ of a hangover,” he cooed.

He watched you pout as you reluctantly calmed under the sheets. The tightness of your dress hugging you wasn’t enough to overwhelm your feeling of tiredness. You blinked heavily as you looked up at the warm face of the man caring for you.

Your cheeks swarmed red and your eyes watered. Thinking about everything over the past few years. How did you miss out on this? You were stupid. The man who would go across the Earth, distract himself for years, give you time and space as you begged, just for years later to be met with the same amount of loyalty and love he left you with. Johnny’s love for you never changed. And neither did your love for him.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath as a warm tear fell on your face. You hid under the blanket to distract Johnny before he could notice it. Unfortunately, you were too late.

Johnny’s eyes widened as he kneeled downwards and caressed your cheek. “Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong,” he asked carefully whispering, hoping that he didn’t overwhelm you. He knew it could be a response to the alcohol, but it didn’t diminish his worry nor hinder his fear that something was hurting you.

You gently wrapped your arm around his wrist, strumming the area with your thumb. “I-I…” you stuttered choking on a sob. “I love you, and you don’t believe me. You never believed me,” you murmured muffling your sobs through the blanket.

Johnny’s head tilted and confusion hit your eyes. “What? No Y/n, I know you love me, we’ve been friends for years of course I know that,” he cooed as he attempted to calm you down. You shook your head rapidly as he wasn’t understanding what you were throwing out.

“No Johnny! I’m in love with you! You thought I wasn’t because I was worried about school,” you confessed as you sat up against the headboard with tear-stained cheeks streaming through your makeup.

“When I told you that night Junior year, I meant it. But you were with Stephanie and completely ignored it! You thought I hated you, but I was too scared, I didn’t want to fail! I didn’t want to argue, and then you fucking left us after graduation and wanted to fucking marry her Johnny! What was I supposed to do?!” you spat out in a daze.

The emotions ran through your veins like venom. You knew he wasn’t all to blame for the situation, at all. You didn’t do your all to show him that you loved him. How could you? But how could he not see through you? Wasn’t he supposed to be your best friend?

Johnny ran a palm down his face. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were sullen. He felt like shit. Of course, he knew was at fault, he went to be with someone else in the distraction of his feelings and yours. He shook his head before gently squeezing into the side of the bed.

He hugged you, closer than he ever had before. You sobbed into his broad chest. He believed every word you said. But there was no way he could talk to you about everything right now, not while you’re drunk and in bed with him. This close, he needed your full awareness and closure.

He pecked the top of your forehead and strummed his fingers through your hair as your sobs calmed and your breathing slowed.

“Don’t worry Y/n, I’m in love with you too,” he assured.

He calmed you until you were resting. A deep sleep overthrowing your consciousness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning was all too quick to come. The sunshine peeks through Johnny’s guest room curtains. You looked around the unfamiliar space, groaning at the sleepiness that was still taking over.

Thankfully, you weren’t one to have a loose memory after drinking and you were aware that you safely went home with Johnny. However, you don’t remember Johnny leaving the bed, as you noticed the side of the mattress was empty.

You flipped the blanket to the side pressed your bare feet into the carpet and trudged through the home. “Johnny!” you called out looking around for signs of the man.

A few moments later, his figure is seen opening the door to the primary bedroom as his body is covered in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants set with his slides on. “Good morning Y/n,” he smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist for a hug.

You smiled back in return hugging him back and pulling him closer. “Hi, sorry I had to crash last night I didn’t expect you to bring me here,” you sheepishly apologized to the man. A deep sigh escaped your lips thinking about everything that happened last night.

“Don’t mention it Y/n,” he assured taking your hand in his. “Hey uhm, I have to pick up Katie in an hour, should I take you home now so you can have some time to yourself before dinner?” he suggested as his eyes gently scanned over your figure.

You were still in a skimpy dress. Your makeup was melting off and your hair was frizzier than anything. “Yeah that’s a good idea, I look a fucking mess,” you self deteriorated on about your looks. Johnny chuckled and let go of your palm.

“You’re a very pretty mess,” he complimented as he walked to grab his keys. “I’ll be at the door until you’re ready,” he calmly spoke.

You nodded turning to the guest room to grab your shoes, purse, and phone. You opened your device and saw missed calls from your best friend as well as spammed pictures of the night out flooding away your message box.

You texted her back immediately, letting her know you were safe and sound with Johnny and that you would be calling her back as soon as you could, sending lots of heart emojis and liking messages in the group chat.

You met Johnny at the door with a smile, lacing your hand in his signaling that you were ready to go.

While walking to Johnny’s car, he told you about Katie spending the night at her cousin's house and all things revolving around her and her social life. She’s very sociable like Johnny and everyone else loves having her around. She was only 3, but she was learning sight words and math already and could count to 100!

You were in the passenger seat as Johnny was driving, bragging more about the skills of his beautiful daughter.

“She’s such a treasure, she’s the best thing that came out of me and Steph’s relationship,” he admitted to you smiling at the thought of his daughter. “I want to enroll her in some extracurricular activities. I’d love for her to do a sport and play piano as I did, I’m scared I’m just not the best person to teach her, I want her to have more female figures in her life,” he solemnly admitted with a sad smile.

Your heart sank at Johnny’s words. “Growing up without a mother and distant from grandmothers or aunts must be a struggle for Katie, despite her having a lot of friends at daycare,” you poured your two cents out into the conversation, nervously meddling at your fingers.

Johnny nodded his head slowly in agreement. “Tell me about it, I just want the best for my little girl, that’s all. I try my best to buy her the toys and clothes she likes, but I have no idea what any of the dolls that she likes are from. Or any of the princesses or shows she likes to teach her, it’s hard to be a single parent but I want to be her best friend,” he confessed.

His cheeks were red at the vulnerable statements he shed out to you. It’s not that Johnny wasn’t attentive to Katie, there were just some things he naturally didn’t understand. He didn’t understand everything about hair, nails, princesses, and when she should play with certain things like makeup and such. How could he?

“Well, how about you start telling me when Katie starts taking an interest in certain things and I’ll help you set up a time to take her out and explore them. I’ll even tell you everything I know about Disney princesses and hair,” you chuckled as you held his right hand.

Johnny smiled beamed. “I would appreciate you more than I already do,” he softly admitted peaking over to glance at you.

You returned the bright look, glancing to the windshield to see him pulling up to your apartment complex. “Well, time for me to go. See you at 6?” you asked as you began to unbuckle your seatbelt.

Johnny nodded. “See you at 6 Y/n,” he assured before leaning to kiss your cheek. You grinned like an idiot, covering away your smile with your palm. “Bye Johnny,” you teased rolling your eyes as you exited the car.

He waved and sat in the parking spot before making sure you safely entered the apartment. The sigh that left his body was deep. He was completely whipped by you. Enamored even more with your interest in Katie. His heart swelled. It was full of love. For you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You managed to have a very productive day once you arrived home. Of course, after showering and eating breakfast, you did some laundry and tidied the space around you. It was now nearing time for dinner and of course, you filled in your best friend from the events of last night.

You sat at your vanity once again, blending the makeup across your cheek with your phone propped up showcasing your best friend on the line, in bed next to her husband.

“Did you guys have sex?” she asked bluntly causing a disgusted groan from her husband lying next to her. “Shut up Derrick,” she cursed rolling her eyes.

A tsk sound escaped your lips. “No darling,” you assured her with a cheeky smile. “Just confessions, if anything happens again, I’ll let you know. But, I genuinely want to have a talk with him about everything,” you replied as you closed the lid to your powder, dusting it away from your face.

You stood up in front of the camera and smoothed out the outfit you adorned. A cream-colored blouse some blue jeans with a wedge. Something simple and flattering, yet appropriate to wear around Katie.

“Oh God! Y/n you look beautiful, if he doesn’t try to hit while you’re in that, I’m gonna do it for him,” she complimented with a beaming grin. Derrick clears his throat eyeing her. “Oh come on, let me hype up my maid of honor,” she scoffed rolling her eyes at her fiancé.

You chuckled at your best friends’ antics and continued getting ready, finishing your look with a nice lip gloss and spritzing some perfume. You checked the time, it’s about 5:30 and you wanted to make sure you were on time. “Okay babe, I’m bout to go. Love you! I’ll update you on everything when I’m finished,” you wished to your best friend as you picked up the phone making kissy faces.

She bid you farewell kissing the screen as well, signaling you to hang up. Once doing so, you grabbed your keys and headed downstairs to the parking lot. Sending Johnny a quick text letting him know that you were on the way as you slipped into your car, starting the engine.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Johnny was finishing up with the meal he prepared for you three. Just a simple steak and potatoes with a salad, nothing too fancy.

“Daddy! When is Ms. Y/n coming?” Katie ran into the kitchen to ask him with a small pout. Johnny smiled as he had just seen your message not too long ago appear on his phone.

“She’ll be here any minute baby. Are you that hungry?” he asked curiously as he finished dressing the salad. Katie shook her head.

“I just wanna see her,” she shyly confessed looking down at the tile floor. Johnny’s heart pattered, causing him to look at her with the softest eyes and his mouth tugging into a sheepish grin. “I wanna see her too Katie,” he assured the little girl.

A few moments later, a ring on the doorbell flooded the home. Katie immediately cheered running to the door knowing it was you. “She’s here!” she ran to the door singing out.

Johnny quickly followed behind her, worried she would open the door alone. “Hey, Katie! Wait for me baby,” he calmly asked catching her in time and popping her on his hip. He opened the front door to be met with your beautiful frame, a smile so bright it could light up the night. At least that was what Johnny said.

“Hi, Ms. Y/n!” Katie happily cheered waving at you. Your smile grew even bigger as you stepped inside to hold the sweet girl's hand. “Hello beautiful!” you greeted the young girl. “Hi, Johnny! It smells great in here,” you complimented as you slipped out of your shoes.

Johnny’s cheeks blushed red as he sheepishly strummed the back of his nape. “Thank you, Y/n. You look beautiful, like always,” he complimented moving to the side and setting Katie down.

Katie immediately latched on to your hand pulling you along with her to the table. She began babbling about dinner, movies, toys, anything you could name. Of course, you and her were best friends now, and best friends sit and listen to each other yap. You were no stranger to the scenario.

Johnny’s heart swelled at the sight. You paid attention to Katie just like he did. When she spoke, you responded. When she showed you toys, you looked. You made her feel seen and loved and that’s why she cared so much about you. And one of the many reasons Johnny cared about you.

Johnny set the table, handing you and him a nicely portioned plate of the dishes, while handing Katie her pink pig-shaped plate with steak bites and mini-sides. “Thank you, Daddy!” Katie grabbed before picking up her matching fork and started eating.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you said with a smile before starting to eat as well. Everything was heavenly. He remembered exactly how you liked your steak and what dressing you ate with your salad. The gestures meant everything to you.

Johnny’s smile was huge seeing that you and Katie enjoyed what he cooked. “Of course, girls. You know I had to go all out for my babies,” he assured as he took a bite of his own cooking.

The conversation was light. Katie talked about daycare and her friends. Johnny spoke about work and his interests as well as you. The flirting was kept to a respectful minimum, due to the toddler right next to you who was fighting sleep for the last hour.

Katie’s head dipped as she yawned over her empty plate. “Uh oh, someone’s very full and very sleepy,” Johnny pointed out as he stood up from the table, picking up the toddler to place her on his hip.

Katie sleepily yawned and rested her head on his chest, waving at you softly. “Night night, Ms. Y/n,” she pouted out closing her eyes.

Johnny giggled looking at you briefly. “I’ll be back, let me set this princess to bed,” he alerted you.

You nodded and waved to the sleepy girl. “Goodnight Katie, sleep well,” you bid to her as you patiently waited for Johnny to get back.

You kindly took it upon yourself to take the dishes off the table and wash them out for him. He’d done a great job of creating such a meal for you, it’s the least you could do.

Entering the kitchen, you notice the refrigerator. Lots of pictures of Katie over the stainless steel. Pictures of her when she was first born, her first Halloween, and even one recently of her and Johnny back in Chicago.

But one really caught your eye, the long dark hair that was too familiar. Stephanie, Johnny, and Katie sitting together at what seemed to be a fair or an amusement park. The sight was painful for you. The genuine looks of smiles bestowed the picture. From all three individuals. What went wrong?

Thoughts have flown through your head. About maybe one day, you could be a family with Johnny and Katie, maybe some children of your own. Getting older has definitely played a factor in your thoughts, but you would be happy with this. Being the mother that Katie needed, being the wife that Johnny needed. You loved them both.

“Yeah, I still need to take that down,” Johnny spoke from behind you, causing you to jump and almost drop all of the dishes. Your heart was pacing at the sudden scare.

“Fuck, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you cursed as you set the dishes into the sink. You looked shyly over to the pictures. “I-I, honestly. I couldn’t bring myself to take that down either honestly,” you tried to consolidate with the heartbroken man.

Johnny shrugged and came over to the fridge, tugging at the photo swiftly. “I can’t be bothered to care anymore,” he told you softly. “Plus, there’s something I have to speak with you about,” he brought up almost too bluntly causing your heartbeat to pick up with immense nervousness.

You cleared your throat meeting his eyes. “Yeah of course, what is it?” you tried to ask as coolly as your voice allowed.

Johnny leaned against the counter with his hands in his pockets, gaze falling into yours. “You said you loved me last night, while you were drunk,” he mentioned tilting his head to you. “I wanted to see if you could tell me that while you were sober,” he asked coolly. He knew that you loved him. But he knew that you were scared and reluctant, as you’ve always been.

But you two were adults now. Johnny understood you, but he also knew for his sake that the scared and reluctant act would do more harm than good for you two.

You sighed deeply thinking hard about what to tell him. You couldn’t lie, you gained nothing from it. It just pained the both of you more. But your mind wouldn’t let you be vulnerable.

“I-I was really drunk, I shouldn’t have poured it on you like that. You just got out of your relationship, and we just started speaking again, I don’t even know if I’m ready for anything,” you rambled out just to be caught off guard by Johnny rubbing his temples frustratingly. You looked at him with furrowed brows confused with his response.

“What will take for you to stop being so worried Y/n?” Johnny brought up. “We’ve loved each other for years, we stopped talking for years just to be brought back together. Nothing is holding us back anymore, we can be happy. Together. You’re worried I know,” Johnny began with a frustrating tone yet quiet voice.

His hands grabbed yours as his pleading eyes stared into yours. “You told me you loved me, that you’ve always loved me. Show me,” he spoke out to you gently.

Suddenly, a plethora of emotions hit you both like a truck. Especially you. You couldn’t think of anything. Anything other than kissing him. You cupped his cheeks, pulling him down to meet your sweet lips in a hunger-filled kiss.

He took no time to kiss back, pulling your nape deeper into his lips and filling your body with passion. The tension in the room thickened and the temperature rose, filling you both with an intense new feeling for each other.

Johnny’s hands roamed around your waist, enamored with your figure under the blouse. After a few moments, he pulled away from your lips breathing heavily and panting for air.

Your eyes met. His eyes hazily looked at yours, filled with an array of love and devotion. Yet laced with an ounce of lust. “Please stop hiding yourself from me Y/n,” Johnny pleaded to you as he began to kiss your jaw, earning soft hums from your mouth.

“Let’s just love each other,” he whispered as he closed any centimeter of space between you two. All you could do was nod and wrap your arms around his neck.

“We will just love each other. I’ll love you, give you all of me. I swear,” you promised to him as your hands roamed down his shoulders.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Open,” is the first thing Johnny said to you as pushed to your knees on the floor of his bedroom. His length, hard and flushed dripping with pre-cum awaited your soft lips.

You did so, by opening your mouth ajar, and you felt a grip in your hair pushing your wet mouth onto his hard length. A groan of pleasure leaves Johnny’s mouth as he begins to thrust slowly into your mouth.

Gagging, you did your best to grasp onto his cock and suck away at the muscle. He was big, but it could t surprise you that much. Everything about him was. His muscles, his shoulders, his chest, his height. He was attractive in every physical and mental aspect. Reason number 99 on why you loved him.

Spit coaxed his length, making it easier for you to take it. But, it pushed him closer to his edge. You looked so beautiful to him, your eyes were welling with tears as you obeyed him so well.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he cooed loosening his grip a bit on your hair once you got a good rhythm on his cock. “You love me so much you’re gonna gag on my dick? Make me feel good and cum in your mouth?” he filthy mouthed at you. He strummed his thumb over your flushed cheeks as lewd noises from your lips filled the air.

All you could do was hum and gag for him, choking as his tip penetrated your throat. Each gag pushed him closer and closer to his climax. “Fuck, Y/n my baby is taking me so well, gonna cum so quick for you. Such a good girl,” he praised as his hips bucked into your throat quicker.

Tears were streaming from the intensity, but who were you to stop? You owed this to him, for his years of unconditionally waiting for you. Loving you. You needed this and so did he, you wanted to prove to him tonight that you loved him more than anything.

Johnny’s core tightened as his legs began to shake nearing his release. “Fuck,” he panted before slowing down his sloppy thrusts. Without warning, his warm thick liquid filled your mouth.

You didn’t think twice, swallowing his load and pulling off his length with a small pop sound. You took the back of your forearm wiping away any excess spit from your lips. “Did I do good?” you asked shyly looking at his gaze for an answer.

He nodded with a sheepish smile, helping lift you up and guiding you to his bed. “Yes baby,” he praised as he stroked your cheek and pushed away and excess hair from your sweaty face. “May I return the favor?” he asked softly pecking at your wet lips.

You responded with a soft nod as your eyes fluttered from the gesture. You lay on your back against his mattress. Johnny slowly came onto the bed, laying his long slender fingers against your seeping core.

Moans erupted from your lips, your legs shaking on impulse as he began sliding his digits against your heat. Coaxing his fingers in your stickiness. “Mmph, Johnny!” you whimpered out as you began bucking your core against his strong hand. A cocky grin filled his lips as he watched you impatiently move against his hand.

“So needy baby? You need me hm?” he asked staring at your weak expression. You nodded your head profusely at his question. “Need you! I need you so bad, I love you so much, please!” you screamed out confessing your desire for him.

A low groan escaped from him as he slid two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, clenching around his digits immediately. His pace was slow yet deep, taking in the feeling of your warm cunt.

“Feels so good right? I fuck you so good with my fingers,” he hummed out watching as his digits disappeared deeper into your core. Your abdomen tightened at the feeling, slick wet sounds filling the air as you began to pant at his touch.

He leaned into your ear, kissing and licking at your lobe and sucking on the bottom. “Imagine how good you’ll feel when I fuck you, right baby?” Johnny seductively whispered into your ear.

Earning enough stimulation, you pulsated around his thrusts feeling your climax reaching. Your back involuntarily arched as his pace quickened rapidly. “J-Johnny,” you spewed out with a harsh breath. “Cum, I wanna-“ you could barely get out as your climax overtook your body, causing sly spasms as you released onto his hand.

Johnny’s smirk grew as he acknowledged the sensation pooling into his palms. “You did so good didn’t you?” he asked as he slowly retracted his palm, bringing his fingers up to your lips for you to swallow your own cum.

Your brows furrowed as you stuck your tongue out, swirling around his digits and humming at the taste of your sweet release. Johnny watched intensively as you did so, his ego swelling at the sight.

“Good baby,” he cooed once you finished and made his way to spread your legs and sit between your thighs.

“Johnny,” you panted looking at him with lustful eyes, bringing your hands to graze over his clothed chest. He adorned a white muscle tee, exposing his biceps and shoulder tattoo to your eyes. “Yes darling?” he asked tilting his head to the side to meet your gaze.

“Off please,” you begged tugging at the light fabric of his shirt. He chuckled as his hands roamed to your light blouse, lifting it from the hem to expose your nude-colored bra. “Only if you do the same for me, baby,” he reprimanded motioning you to sit up.

You nodded obediently doing so, sitting up to swiftly remove your blouse and tossing it across the room. You then unclamped your bra, throwing it to the side as well. Leaving your top half completely on display for your lover.

His eyes lowered to your chest, enamored completely with what he had seen. Your nipples are hard and on display for his eyes, darkening as his breath hitched while lewd thoughts filled his head. “You’re so beautiful Y/n, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he praised as his hands made their way to your breasts, toying with you.

You bit your lips at the sensation, arching your back at each gripping movement caused a loud moan from your lips. Your eyes fluttered rapidly as his fingers pinched at your nipples. “You sound so pretty, feels so good right? Want me to fuck you now hm?” Johnny questioned as his hands lowered to your waist, gripping the sides and pulling you closer to his chest.

You nodded rapidly, tugging once more on his tee as your eyes locked with his. “Now Johnny!” you whined out earning a coy chuckle from him once again. “Okay, baby, don’t worry, you’re gonna feel so good,” he assured kissing your forehead as removed his tank.

His hand reached for the small of your back, lying you down once again on his mattress and lining himself up with your slick entrance. He was careful not to break the kiss, distracting you once he entered his thick length into your tight core.

The sensation filling you causes a loud scream to erupt from your throat, just to be shushed and calmed down by Johnny. “Shh, darling,” he whispered slowing his pace as he deepened into you. “Be a good girl, take my cock, princess, I know you can do it for me right?” his words were so explicit yet filled with a tender reassurance that you desperately needed at the moment.

You nodded slowly, shutting your eyes and taking in the feeling. “So big Johnny,” you praised as he was now fully engaged in your heat. His movements started off slow, yet deep and steady. Low grunts echoed from him, while high-pitched moans came from your sweet lips. Johnny couldn’t help but feel encouraged to ram into you rougher, now wanting to hear how loud you could get for him.

He wanted to hear how amazing he made you feel. He knew you loved him and that he was all you needed. He needed to hear it from you, one way or another.

“Talk to me baby,” he instructed as he quickened his pace hitting your sweet spot. You could barely focus on formulating a sentence, all you could think of was the sensational pleasure he gave you. “F-feels so good Johnny, I can’t…” you gasped out needily as you felt him ram into your core as your legs were close to your chest.

Johnny grunted out, gripping the sheets adjacent to you as he buried himself deeper into your cunt. “You can’t what baby? You can’t take my cock? You can’t take how much I love you? Hm?” Johnny asked as his thrusts became steadier and deeper, sweat beading on his forehead. “You want me to stop?” he teased earning a whine from you.

“I can take it! I want to feel all your love, please keep fucking me!” you moaned out, feeling his deep thrusts strike something in you. The sex was rough. Everything about it was passionate and aggressive, but it was exactly what you needed from each other. Years worth of tension, pent-up aggression, and remorse, are finally being poured into each other.

“I need you, I love you, please!” you confessed to Johnny, pushing his nape closer to kiss your neck as you reached closer to your high.

Johnny’s eyes fluttered as low grunts escaped his mouth. He was lost in you. The woman he loved the most, the longest. He finally had you. He gave his all to you, and you were finally doing the same. “I love you too, let me cum for you darling,” he begged as his kisses and thrusts alike become rugged and sloppy.

Mixes of curses and moans echoed in the air, your climax clashed with Johnny’s. He rammed into you, deepening his ejaculate into your cunt, mixing away with your juices until he collapsed to the side of you.

Both of your chests were heaving up and down, sweat beading over each of your bodies.

Once the calm filled the air, your head cocked to the side as you faced your lover. “I’m sorry, for everything that’s happened over the past few years. I know I was dumb because I was scared but-“

You were cut off immediately by a warm familiar hand cupping your flushed cheek, and a soft tingling kiss pressed against your lips.

“No more apologies Y/n. Let’s just do this the right way,” Johnny asked of you. His eyes filled with a sparkle, a plea.

All you could do was smile. Nodding to him before you took him into a deep kiss again.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“By the power invested in me,” the reverend spoke at the altar. You stood behind your beautiful best friend who was draped in her white lacey veil and dress. To her opposite was her husband Derrick with a proud Johnny standing behind him, his gaze alternating between the scene ahead, and you.

You held back a few tears that threatened to fall, the sight was beautiful. The pianist played a soft melody in the background. You looked stunning in the silky emerald dress that all the other bridesmaids had to wear, as it complimented the black suits with emerald ties the groomsmen wore.

The wedding was picture perfect, it was exactly how your best friend and you could’ve imagined. The green accents surround the garden as well as the tables and decor. Your best friend pat away a single tear that streamed down her beautifully painted face.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the reverend happily stated. Not even a moment later, the pair began to kiss each other with such a loving vigor as the room erupted in cheers and claps.

Your eyes matched with Johnny’s, the same amount of energy that you felt in the moment was reciprocated from him as well. It was evident that love was in the air for everyone, you two included.

Following the ceremony, the room erupted into laughter and dancing. Your best friend was already tipsy from champagne, laughing in the arms of her husband.

You sat at the table with all the other bridesmaids, giggling as you sipped on your own glass as well. Then, a familiar warm hand caressed your shoulder causing you to look up at the source.

A beaming Johnny met your gaze, his hand extended out to you. “Care to dance?” he asked almost too casually. It was cliche, but it was Johnny. Could you really say no?

A soft giggle came from the table as you and the girls looked at him. You reached your hand out taking your fingers in his, “of course, Mr. Suh,” you agreed dipping to him playfully as he pulled you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his hands sweetly around your waist, pulling you closely to him. Your arms naturally met around his neck taking in his beauty, staring blissfully into his eyes as you began to sway along with him to the music.

“You know,” he began as he stared down at your figure. “I always knew, since freshman year that they were going to last,” he mentioned referring to Derrick and your best friend, causing you to tilt your head to their direction.

“Yeah, especially the way Derrick spoke about her. It always let me know that he was so deeply in love with her you know?” you replied back, smiling happily at the sigh of your best friend in the arms of her loving husband.

Johnny nodded with a small chuckle. “Yeah,” he stated before locking eyes with you.

“It’s the same way I speak about you.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Authors Note:

EEEEK! this took me a few days, but i THOROUGHLY hope you enjoy! pls repost and like everything! engage! i’ll write more i swear, any requests or suggestions you have, PLS lmk!

love, mei~

[maikee-akihiro]

“We’re gonna be late.” Vince taps his foot impatiently. He looks at his watch with a sigh, he really doesn’t want an earful from their teacher this early. Should he call her again?

With a grumble, he unzips his back, fishing out his phone.

As he was about to reach his phone, the doors suddenly creaked open.

The door suddenly slammed against the walls, and there appeared the person he was waiting for looking at him with wide eyes.

Vince looked at his best friend with furrowed brows. He was about to berate her for being late but something caught his mouth.

He stared at his friend– there was something.. Different, something alien about her. 

He thinks he’s just lacking sleep, so he pulls her by her arm as they start speed walking.

“Girl, I was about to call you again. What took you so long?” He asks. Aki was never this late, especially on Mondays. “Did you shave your legs or something? You should’ve said so, cause’ now we’re late.”

He was expecting a classic snide reply, but what came out of her mouth left him perplexed.

“Yea, sorry bout’ that.” She said 

Huh, did his voice sound so serious? 

He slowed down his pace, letting go of her arm. “Nah, you’re good.” 

Why is her demeanor so peculiar today? Usually she’ll be over about her make up and complain about life, but today she’s awfully quiet.

The morning wind hits their face as they walk to the bus stop, no one spoke a word as the silence brewed over them.

“So uhm,” Vince suddenly breaks that silence. “Did you do the information literacy essay?” He breaks the silence with a prank, though Aki most likely knows they didn’t have an essay due today– he really wanted to break whatever ice Aki ate this morning

He keeps a cool face, aware of her face scrunching up as her thoughts wander. He already knows she’ll hit his shoulder along with a ‘we don’t have one, dumbass.’ reply.

“Uh, I finished it an hour ago.”

Vince looked at her oddly, but didn’t say anything as he nodded at her. Weird, did they actually have an essay?

He shooks himself out of those thoughts as they made it to the dimly lit bus stop.

They sat down on the vacant seats, with him pulling out his phone. He feels eyes staring at him from the side, but he ignores it as he opens up his notesapp.

“There’s no essay..” He mutters to himself. Trying to find any deadlines for today.

None.

“There’s no what?” Aki asks, a curious look on her face as she stares. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her grip her skirt as she tapped her foot in rhythm with his heartbeat. She tilted her head with a sweet smile, waiting for his reply.

“–No economics study for today, Haha.” He nervously puts his phone back in his bag. “I’m being forgetful lately, this is so not like me.”

She hums, that pervasive stare not leaving him. “It’s alright, I forgot too.” There was an edge to her voice, something misplaced about it that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. There was really something about her today, is she sick?

“Hey Vince, since we’re already late– why not get some coffee around the corner?”

His body stiffens at that. 

Aki doesn’t like coffee, she’s acidic. 

He stays calm, finally facing her. “Sure, I definitely don’t want to see Ms. Edwards’ grouchy face this early.”

Who the hell is this?

This is a WIP cuz I still couldn't think of a proper story direction for this one LOL anws special mention to @vinceisaswiftie cuz im using him as my main character here (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

Ion know when I'll finish this one so advance rip wip if I acc dont finish this (⁠*⁠﹏⁠*⁠;⁠)

Your “friend” has been replaced by a doppelgänger. You aren’t sure where it came from or what it is under the disguise. But you know one thing; you prefer it over the original.

[melanchoire]

G!p biker wonyoung🤰🏻 I want her big dick inside me so bad

cw: chocking, degradation, public sex (i guess 😭)

wonyoung being the rebellious girl of the school who has a crush on the diligent student!reader, person who doesn’t want to know anything about wonyoung and doesn’t give a shit about anything about her 😭 wonyoung being the typical pretty girl who has half the school at her feet and the other half feeling attracted to her, but wonyoung wants the person who is clearly out of her reach: you

and of course she is a pain in the ass!!

wonyoung would normally maintain her image as a cool girl who doesn't usually talk too much and she has a lethal face card, but sometimes she can get away from her carefree nature because she loves being annoying and loves seeing how it affects you!

but being a complete sweetheart when it comes to her bike because that’s wonyoung’s baby ☝🏻 she is super careful about her vehicle, always parked correctly in the school parking lot, making sure that no car or other motorcycle is within a dangerous distance that could scratch her bike, going to the parking lot every chance she gets to check on her bike, she treats it like a baby! and technically it is, because if one day something happens to eonyoung’s motorcycle, that day she would cease to exist

so yes, if she starts to take an interest in you after you catch her eye, you would become her second baby! and who knows, maybe her number one priority if you manage to win that over

sorry but wonyoung is a pervert here 😶 flirty and daring CALL IT WHATEVER YOU WANT but she has no problem giving you the occasional flirt or dirty comment

LIKE she would always try to get you to accept her offers to take you home, subtly insisting and always being kinder and gentler with you unlike her usual cocky behavior with the rest of people, but you always end up rejecting 💔 wonyoung making so many illusions and scenarios in her head that she often imagines a time where you accept her offer and just by chance, where it’s a cold winter day where she can lend you her jacket just because! another of wonyoung’s babes; her leather jacket. she is completely careful with it too! always taking all the time in the world to wash it and using the most expensive and best products because she doesn’t want to ruin her precious jacket. so yes, she would love to see you in it

imagine that on a stormy day you’re returning home after a long and tiring day of school, walking in the rain with your umbrella in hand until you hear the engine purr next to you and you don’t even have to turn around to know who it is

“do you need a ride home?” wonyoung would say, tilting her head as she parked next to you

“it’s raining, wonyoung. i’m not going to get on your bike and get wet.”

“rain or shine, you would get wet being with me anyway. so can i take that as a yes?”

you can’t see her face but you swear there is a grin on her face

until one day wonyoung finally gets what she wants! somewhat cliché but you agree to help her with her studies because even though she is somewhat annoying you felt sorry for her low grades, so without hesitation you gave in to trying to create a new version of her

but she doesn’t change at all 😮‍💨 manspreading on the chair with her elbows on the table and resting her chin on one of her hands, looking at you intently with lustful eyes while you explain the topics given in the semester but the gaze that is always fixed on your face seems to fall from time to time to your lips??

“wonyoung, are you–?”

“just shut up.” ohhh, and she takes your face in both hands and kisses you 😵‍���� you would try to put up a little resistance or pretend to be mature but honestly, wonyoung turned you on in a certain way and you couldn’t deny such an opportunity!

although wonyoung seems to want to fuck right now 😭 making you stand up from the chair and guiding you until your lower back hits the table, trying to climb on top of you on the table but snorts when you try to stop her and make her understand that it’s not a good idea to fuck in the school library ☝🏻

she doesn’t give a damn because she ends up doing it anyway! leaning you over the table and taking you from behind, fucking you like you guys are in some kind of motel or something 🥰 wonyoung was ramming her cock so roughly into your pussy that little by little the table beneath you started to creak or squeak, making you fear about being caught in a situation

she solves! so she makes you get up from the table, sneaking a hand down the valley between your tits and closing her hand on your neck, using her free arm to wrap around your waist and push you back to press you further against her body, giving you zero escape from this

and she grunts and groans against your ear in a way that would easily make you cum right now 🫠whispering the dirtiest things possible to you, making fun of you for always acting hard to get but being an easy slut and giving in to her after a few simple kisses, degrading you for letting yourself be touched like this in a public place by a girl you always claim to “hate”... wonyoung is much worse when she notices how your walls tighten around her cock more after each time she talks dirty to you, enjoying how her treating you like a whore seemed to make you wetter and wetter…

cumming inside you and moaning as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, sinking her cock deep into you and shooting all her cum straight into your belly, filling you completely and to the brim with her seed 😵‍💫 releasing the grip of her hand on your neck, letting you take a breath and enjoying how you have to plant your hands on the table to hold your body up because you were completely destroyed and exhausted

wonyoung taking you to her dorm after a real study session, promising to fuck you like she is been craving for so long 💕 and who knows, maybe she will give you double the enjoyment if you only wear her leather jacket when joining her in bed

[neeeooon]

HII HELLOO HI HI HI HOW ARE YOUUUU

CAN WE GET LIKE PART 2 FOR BLLK BOYS FINDING OUT ABOUT THEIR KID, LIKE AS I. CONTINUATION WHAT HAPPENS AFTER MEETING THE KIDDO

YESSS i added the boys u guys voted for most!! (reo has his own oneshot here!!)

when they find out they have a kid, cont.

ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. angst, (most get) happy-ish endings! chigiri, shidou, and rin’s kids have names

itoshi sae

-> the three of you sat at the table, you and your son on one side and your ex-husband on the other. your son was wiggling around in excitement, eager to jump on and hug his father, but you’d warned him against it. you knew how sae felt about touch and didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable around his son

-> “does he have to use the restroom?” sae asked when he noticed your son’s restlessness. you shot him a glare. “he’s not a dog. he’s excited to meet you, that’s all.” “oh.”

-> if the comment made your son feel any sort of way, he didn’t show it. “are you really the soccer player from tv?!” sae looked at you before nodding once. it set your son off again, causing him to tug on your sleeve in excitement. “see, mama, see! i told you it’s him! i told you he’s my daddy!”

-> you opened your mouth to explain that it wasn’t that simple, but your son continued as he danced around the kitchen. “and he’s here, which means you’re getting back together!” “huh?!” “and i’ve always wanted a little brother or sister!” “okay, calm down.”

-> you wanted to give your son some alone time with his dad, but it was clear that sae was getting overwhelmed by the hyperactive child. it was strange how his son reminded him more of his brother than himself from when they were young

-> after putting your son down for a nap, you retook your spot across from sae, who was staring very intensely at his clasped hands. you felt a pang of… something as you watched him, and your voice came out extremely soft as you asked, “how are you feeling, sae?”

-> he struggling to meet your eyes right away, but when he did you could see unshed emotion in them. “i don’t… know what to do. he’s mine. my kid. i have a kid. my parents are grandparents. my brother’s an uncle. and i had no idea.”

-> “you didn’t exactly give me the chance after you left me, after you told me how much you regretted us. me. but he’s here now, and he wants you to be his father, so let’s not play the blame game.” sae seemed a bit taken aback by your harsh tone, completely contradicting how quiet you were a moment ago. “you’re right. i’m sorry.” “don’t be sorry. be here. be his dad.”

-> sae couldn’t stay in town long, but he promised your son that he���d visit as soon as he was available. there wasn’t a smile on his stoic face, but when your son ran forward and hugged his legs, telling sae he loved him, sae patted the boy’s head and said, “i’ll see you soon.”

michael kaiser

-> your daughter happily ate her choco bears, unaware of the tension at the table. you sat across from kaiser, who was picking at the skin around his fingers to the point where if you didn’t mention it, you thought he’d start bleeding

-> you don’t know what compelled you to reach over and cover his hand with yours, but kaiser looked as surprised as you did. stammering for some sort of explanation, you gave up and went to pull your hand back until he grabbed it. neither of you said anything as you turned your attention back to your daughter

-> she raised a quizzical brow at her dad. “you look old.” you choked on a laugh as kaiser choked on air. “i’m not—! okay. how old are you, again?” your daughter humphed and admired one of her choco bears. “mama said i’m not supposed to give my age to strange men.”

-> you thought the comment would offend your ex, but he only scoffed. there was a slight, amused grin tugging at his lips. “well, your mama is right.” at the sudden softness of his voice, your daughter sank down into her chair and avoided his eyes. “… you’re my papa, aren’t you?”

-> kaiser swallowed hard. “yes.” “why didn’t you come to my birthday, then?” your heart broke, and the way kaiser’s fingers tightened around your hand showed you that his did as well. “i didn’t, um… i’ll be there for your next one, if you’ll have me.” “will you bring me more choco bears?” “all the choco bears you could ever dream for.” that wins her over. “okay!”

-> she lost interest in the conversation after that and tuned you out while she played a game on your phone. though she wasn’t paying attention, you kept your voice low as you leaned closer to your ex-husband

-> “i’m sorry for never texting. it was wrong of me to keep her from you.” kaiser squeezed your hand in return, trying to show you an ounce of comfort. “it’s not okay, but it’s the past. we can’t change the past, we can only… move on.” the kaiser you knew would never say something like that, and it left you reeling

-> “i want to be in her life, y/n.” “i want that, too. i want us to start over, micha. can we try? as her parents? as friends?” his smile is pained, but his voice is determined. “yes.”

isagi yoichi

-> thankfully, isagi didn’t fight you anymore that day and went home. you got his number from bachira, texting him a time and date to officially meet his daughter

-> “mama, what if he doesn’t like me?” after you told your daughter what was happening, her smile faded into a pout. you quickly hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “no, baby, don’t think like that. he won’t hate you!” “but what if—“ “if he hurts your feelings, uncle bachira and i will hurt his much worse.” you made a silly face to make her laugh and tickled her side before sending her to bed

-> isagi was prepared when he arrived at your house the next morning with breakfast and flowers. peeking around your legs, your daughter gasped at the sight of the sweet pastries. she was on the shyer side, so while you could tell she wanted to grab them and run to share with her ‘uncle,’ she wouldn’t move unless given the go-ahead

-> you took the items from isagi’s hands and offered him a polite smile. “thank you.” as you reached for the flowers, you handed the box of pastries to your daughter and scoffed when she darted into the kitchen with her goodies

-> isagi awkwardly rubbed his nape, still standing in the doorway. “i want to apologize for how i acted yesterday. i was shocked and angry and i took it out on you.” you shook your head and stepped aside for him to enter. “i… understand. why you were angry, i mean. that doesn’t mean i appreciate getting yelled at, but i know that if i was in your position, i’d be upset, too.”

-> “then why not tell me? why keep her from me all these years? i would have loved being a dad, y/n.” something in his voice caught, and the sound felt like driving a knife through your chest. “i know things got all fucked once we got married, but you were my best friend first. i should have checked in on you. i should have paid closer attention. i should have at least sent a text, making sure you were alright.” “yoichi—“i’m not saying it’s all my fault, and i’m still pretty pissed at you for keeping this from me, but i made mistakes, too.”

-> brushing off the silence that fell between you, you put your differences aside and beckoned isagi into the kitchen, where your daughter was drooling over a chocolate croissant. “you can eat if you’re hungry,” isagi offered with a smile, and your daughter didn’t need to be told twice before devouring the pastry

-> “are you really my dad?” isagi choked on his muffin. “um, yeah..” “okay. are you gonna live here now?” “sweetheart—“ “i work a lot,” isagi began with a gentle look. “but if your mom lets me, i’d love to be around more. maybe take you to or pick you up from school.”

-> your daughter loves school, so the fact that he mentioned it all on his own made her eyes sparkle. “really?! and we can go to the park after!” “if that’s what you want—“ “and eat more yummy pastries!” isagi was laughing now. “okay, and eat more pastries. that sounds like a plan.”

shidou ryusei

-> “this is miss poofikins!” your daughter said as she shoved a teddy bear with a tutu into shidou’s arms. “and this is princess buttersquash!” a yellow unicorn. “and that’s fred!” fred was a green monster plushie that you actually got from a pet store, she loved it too much to let you leave without it

-> shidou, slightly overwhelmed, graciously accepted the toys and held them close to make sure none of them fell on the floor. “wow, sachi. i’m so jealous!” your daughter beamed and ran off to grab more from her collection, leaving you alone again with your ex-husband

-> “listen,” you began slowly. “you don’t have to stay. you can walk away now if this is too much. i can handle her on my own—“ “don’t.” you waited for him to continue. “she’s… y/n, i want to be apart of her life. of both your lives. i wasn’t talking out of my ass when i said i’ve changed since we were married.” “… i know.”

-> still holding all three plushies with his arms and chest, shidou reached out and grasped your hand. “i’m serious, y/n. i want this, more than anything. fuck, more that soccer, i think.” you didn’t know why, but your eyes began to ache with incoming tears. “ryu…”

-> his arms were around you before the first tears fall. you laughed when sachi’s plushies pressed between your bodies, but slowly hugged him back regardless. “i’m so sorry, ryusei. i’m so sorry for keeping her from you. for believing that, that,” you couldn’t think of a word insulting enough to describe all you felt for your mother, so you settled with, “bitch.”

-> his laugh rumbled through your body. “whatever. let’s not waste anymore time. i’m here now, i’m all in, if you’ll let me be.” “i will. i want you here with us. with me. i can’t… i don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

-> you felt his lips against your temple, and though there was nothing romantic about the kiss, it made you feel warm inside. “let’s go check on our girl, alright?” you hummed and squeezed shidou once more before letting go. “yeah.”

chigiri hyoma

-> “so…” “so.” “… why is your hair so long?” “😐”

-> you can’t help but snicker at the conversation going on between your son and his father. despite his young age, hikari has a large personality, and you can tell chigiri sees himself before the injury in him

-> “so you, like, play soccer?” “why do you talk like you’re twelve? you’re only six.” “yeah, six inches deep in your—“ “hikari! you really need to stop hanging out with those fifth graders.”

-> despite himself, chigiri laughs. “do you even know what that means, kid?” “…” you rub the ache from your forehead and sigh. “well, i’m at a loss. where do you boys wanna go from here? we fighting for custody, or will this be civil?”

-> chigiri shoots hikari a look before blinking at you. “um, is he allowed to hear this?” “he’ll find out eventually, might as well get his say.” “but he’s six.” “six inch—“ you cover his mouth with your palm. “are you gonna come around, or am i doing this alone?”

-> your bluntness surprises your ex-husband. “i’m in this.” “good,” you nod, posture slouching. “‘cause i am so tired, hyoma.”

-> it’s getting late, so you excuse yourself to tuck your son into bed before you can return to your conversation with your ex. “mom?” “yes, hun?” “do i have to change my name to chigiri hikari? cause that sounds dumb..” you chuckle and give him a kiss on the forehead. “no, you don’t have to change your name. tell me, though… how do you feel about having him around more?”

-> hikari doesn’t hesitate. “well, he’s fun to make fun of, and he’s my dad, right? he should be around… and you won’t be lonely when i’m not here if he’s around.” “oh, honey, don’t worry about me. all i want is for you to be safe and happy, okay?” “okay. g’night.”

-> you find chigiri exactly where you left him. “i have a spare bedroom, if you’d like to stay. i don’t know what your situation is like right now, but if you want to stay and help raise your son, rent is due on the 11th.” “rent?” “mhm! i pushed him out of me and have been providing for six years. you can pay rent.” “… i’ll have your check ready in the morning.”

BONUS! itoshi rin (i had a few reqs for him :p)

-> “will you come play more tomorrow?” your daughter asked. rin’s soft smile fell, but only for a second. “i actually have to fly back to work tomorrow.” “oh..” “but how about this weekend?” she lit up. “really?!”

-> you smiled as you watched the two interact. they’d gotten so comfortable with each other so quick, and your daughter even asked rin to hold her when her legs got tired from standing

-> you weren’t surprised when you checked on them after cleaning up to find emi fast asleep in her dad’s arms. the sight made you want to cry, and you were overcome by a wave of guilt that left tears in your eyes

-> when rin noticed your presence, he gave a small finger-wave, trying not to move too much with the six-year-old in his arms. “hey,” he whispered when you moved to sit on the floor beside his legs

-> “how was it today?” you asked him, fingers toying with the end of your daughter’s navy blue dress. he hummed. “good. she’s a great kid, y/n. you did good.”

-> your exhale was shaky as you dropped your face into your hand. “i feel so awful, rin. how did this happen to us? i should have been the bigger person, not for me, but for her. she didn’t deserve to lose all these years with you just because i wasn’t brave enough to reach out and—“

-> the feel of rin’s fingers grazing your jaw shut you up. his eyes are intense and glimmering as he stares down at you. “don’t. there’s no point anymore. i’m here now, that’s what matters. that and her.” you nod and sink into his touch. “that and her.”

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

[moonstruckme]

*insert Bernie Sanders meme*

I am once again asking for Prince!Sirius, perhaps a tryst in the royal gardens? A stolen kiss while practicing a waltz? An eventful evening at the opera for the “engaged” couple? A midnight motorbike ride throughout the city, away from the palace guards? Sneaking out in the night to see each other?

Anything you’d like, of course, and only if you’d like to write it♥️I love you just as much either way, which is bunches and tons🥰

Thank you for your request!! I shall be using more than one of these haha :)

cw: migraine, arranged marriage

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.3k words

By the way Sirius talked about it and everything you’ve experienced since setting foot in the palace, you’d come to the easy assumption that the negotiations of your arranged marriage would take place behind closed doors you weren’t invited through. You never imagined you’d be involved. Though perhaps involved is a strong word for what you are now, sitting like an ornament at your grandmother’s side while her courtiers argue in civil tones with courtiers from Sirius’ kingdom.

The more you’re around Sirius’ parents, the more intimidated you are by both of them. Sirius can be intimidating too, all roguish charm and sharp-toothed grins, but his parents are different. They’re just…scary. You don’t think they’ve stopped glaring since they sat down. Every now and then, when negotiations don’t seem to be going their way, Sirius’ mother’s mouth will become pinched and small, as though she’s only just barely biting her tongue.

Evidently, marrying two heirs is more complicated than simply getting married. Sirius would have to abdicate to his younger brother, there are inheritances to be discussed, land ownership, things like dowries which you didn’t know still existed. It all faded away around the time your ears started ringing. There’s a harsh, zagging line across your vision now. The undersides of your thighs are slick with sweat. You have no hope of translating this bourgeoisie legal dialect.

Sirius is sitting on the other end of the table, but you’ve been able to feel his gaze all evening. At times he’s looked bored, others agitated, but for the most part when he looks at you his eyes are calm. Placid waters. A thick morning fog.

You don’t think either of you are meant to speak, but Sirius wouldn’t be Sirius if he didn’t break the rules.

“Well, this is tedious.” His mother’s gaze snaps to him, but the prince appears not to notice. He stretches, pushing back his chair. “I’m going to nod off if I don’t get some fresh air. Care to join me, Your Highness?”

For once, you don’t care enough to decode the looks your grandmother and her courtiers are sending you. “Sure,” you mumble. Nausea presses at the base of your throat as you stand shakily. “I mean, yes, thank you.”

Sirius escorts you from the room like a true gentleman. A hand on your back, opening and closing the door for you. He doesn’t even comment when you close your eyes and put your hand over them in an attempt to block out the light. Just keeps walking, guiding you around turns and through hallways. You don’t think to ask where you’re going until you step outside.

The difference is brightness is immediate. You drop your hand. It’s nighttime, the palace gardens dark but for small lanterns illuminating the paths in front of you. Those are bearable, at least.

Sirius waits until you’re seated on a bench to ask, in a more hesitant tone than you’ve heard from him yet, “What’s wrong?”

You nearly moan as you fold over your legs, putting your forehead to your knees. “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

“Don’t do that. Please. I could see you sweating from across the table.”

Your nausea worsens. “Did everyone see?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure,” he admits. You appreciate that you don’t have to question whether Sirius is telling you the truth. He always does.

“Not very princess-like.”

“Fuck that.” Sirius’ hand lands between your shoulder blades, fingers splayed but unmoving. “What is it? Do you need a doctor?”

You let out a breath. It warms your knees. “No,” you mumble. “It’s a migraine. I’ve had them before, it’ll go away.” Not quickly, you don’t say. But eventually.

“Oh,” Sirius murmurs. Somewhere in the garden, not very close, there are crickets chirping. Faint. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“What can I do?”

You pause. Maybe it’s because you’re already feeling so wretched, but the simple care in his voice makes you want to weep. “Nothing really. It’s helping just to be out of there. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says in a quiet voice. His thumb moves a couple times over a bump in your hunched-over spine, thoughtful. “The lights from the path aren’t helping, are they?”

“They’re better than the ones inside.”

“Can you move?”

You pick your head up, gathering your strength. Sirius’ eyes are unreadable in the dark. “We should probably go back in, right?”

He frowns. “No.”

“They’ll be upset if we’re gone for too long. I’ll be okay.”

“The longer we’re gone, the more they’ll speculate about an heir, and the more they’ll have to talk about.” He quirks a brow at you, eyes glinting. “Come on, gorgeous. It’s the right of betrothed couples to canoodle in gardens.”

You let him pull you up from the bench, trying to ignore how that makes you feel. How lately you’ve found yourself wishing the perceptions of you and Sirius’ relationship were closer to reality. You don’t want to be married, or to be a queen, or to have the pressure of producing heirs. But you wouldn’t mind canoodling in gardens. Only if it’s with Sirius, though.

He takes you off the path, into a grassy area walled in by trees and shrubbery. The only light comes from the stars in the sky. You’ve completely given yourself over to Sirius’ whims by this point, so you make no objection when he lies you down with your head in his lap, the dewy grass dampening your clothes.

“Tell me if this hurts more than it helps,” he says, positioning his hands on either side of your head. His fingers sink into your hair and begin to massage gently at your scalp.

Tears press at your eyes again. Not from pain. From relief, yes, but also a rush of aching tenderness. You don’t know that you’ve ever been treated with such care.

“It helps,” you manage.

“Yeah?” Sirius' voice is near a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“I have a hard time believing that when you’re not breathing, lovely.”

He’s teasing, a little bit, but his tone slips into sincerity again when you let out a long breath. “Good,” he says, thumbs making small circles at the base of your head. “Thank you.”

You don’t know how long you lie there. No one comes looking for you, or if they do you’re too far into the garden to hear them. The breeze cools the sweat lingering on your skin. Sirius is diligent in his ministrations, working his way from your ears to the crown of your head and from your forehead to your nape. It works. Your migraine doesn’t go away completely, but you feel better.

You open your eyes slowly. The stars wink above you with their cold light, but Sirius’ gaze is warm on yours.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” you murmur.

His lips quirk. “I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“We can’t stay here like this.”

“Why not?” he asks lightly. “I don’t mind. Most guys would give their left foot to sit here with you all night. I’d count myself lucky.”

Your chest aches. You’re not going to take him up on that, but a few more minutes won’t hurt.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Really, babe, I don’t mind.”

“No, not just…I mean, for everything.” Emotion makes the throbbing in your head worsen, but you keep your eyes open to hold his gaze. “For always being so nice. Just, thank you.”

Sirius must see the pain in your expression. His brows furrow just a little, and he brushes his thumb next to your eye, encouraging you to close them. You do.

You think you might feel his lips on your forehead. It’s too ghostlike a kiss for you to be sure, the tickle of his hair past your ear perhaps more wish than sensation. You pretend it’s real anyway.

[purplereina11]

You're a highly successful basketball player who has just been transferred to Barcelona's women's team. The number 11 holds deep personal significance for you. Among the spectators is none other than football superstar Alexia Putellas, synonymous with the number 11 in Barça history, watching from the sidelines.

What starts as mutual admiration quickly turns into something more, fuelled by weeks of playful yet intense online flirting. The chemistry between you and Alexia becomes undeniable.

It had been a couple of days since your last exchange with Alexia, and things had been…quiet. Too quiet. You weren’t sure what she was planning, but you knew it was coming. So, naturally, the one time you were out not thinking about her, the universe decided to play a cruel joke.

You were grabbing a drink with your sister in law, she got you out your apartment that was being over run by your family in town visiting and staying with you, your over bearing older sister wouldn’t shut up about Alexia and her disapproval of your online games. Lisa brought you out seeing your face before it blew up, she left her husband your brother Luke behind to talk Abby down. It wasn’t a date. Far from it. But the setting? Yeah, it definitely looked like one. A nice rooftop spot. Dim lighting. A corner table.

You were mid-laugh at something Lisa said when someone approached your table, stopping just beside you. "Uh, hi—sorry to interrupt."

You turned your head, looking at the woman standing there. She was watching you with something that looked a lot like amusement, but there was also a hint of nervousness in the way she shifted slightly on her feet.

"Do I—?" You started, trying to place her. It never even crossed your mind she could be a fan of yours but it all became clear pretty quickly.

She let out a small, slightly awkward laugh. "You don’t know who I am, do you?" You didn’t want to say no, but…yeah. Before you could answer, she sighed and quickly filled in the blanks herself.

"I’m Alba. Alexia’s sister."

Oh.

Oh.

Your sister in law beside you let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by the way your expression shifted. "Right," you said, recovering. "Alba. Nice to meet you."

She gave you a look like she wasn’t quite convinced, but she smiled anyway. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date” You so did, you thought “—saw you and figured I should say hi." You opened your mouth to argue the date part, but she wasn’t done. "I just—uh, well—Alexia’s mentioned you. A lot." Your brows lifted slightly. Alba winced. "I probably shouldn’t have said that."

Lisa laughed. "No, no, please—go on."

Alba shook her head, you could already see the headlines forming in your mind.

Bumped into Alexia’s sister. Looked like a date. Great.

Before you could say anything, Alba leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "I’d be careful if I were you," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Alexia’s been... determined lately."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Determined?"

Alba just smiled. "You’ll see."

And with that, she was gone, strolling back to her own table like she hadn’t just completely thrown you off.

Lisa turned to you, grinning. "She panicked so fast."

You exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face. "Yeah. But did you hear what she said?"

"That Alexia won’t shut up about you?"

You shot her a look. "Not the exact wording she used."

She just smirked. "Close enough."

You sat back in your chair, mulling over the interaction. Alba had been nervous, sure, but she’d also let something slip. And now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Alexia’s mentioned you. A lot. You looked to her as she looked to you, you were wondering if and what she would tell Alexia.

Of course she would tell Alexia. You found your eyes back on her a short time later when her attention was on her phone her thumbs flying across the screen rather than her friends.

You didn’t expect to hear from Alexia so soon. But the second you checked your phone after getting to training an hour later, you saw her name.

Alexia: So… you had an interesting lunch today.

You exhaled, as you started typing.

You: Didn’t realise I was being monitored.

It only took a few seconds for her response to come through.

Alexia: Wasn’t hard to find out. People talk.

You could feel the tension in those words. She wasn’t being playful. She was jealous. A slow smirk pulled at your lips. Now this was interesting.

You: Let me guess. You think it was a date?

There was a pause.

Alexia: Was it?

You could practically see her expression. Arms crossed, jaw tight. You took your time before responding.

You: Would it bother you if it was?

Another pause. Longer this time.

Alexia: You’re avoiding the question.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

You: So are you.

A full minute passed.

Alexia: Come to my game this weekend.

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. She was switching tactics. Trying to regain control. But you weren’t going to make it that easy.

You: Not sure I’m free.

It was a lie. You definitely could be. Alexia, to her credit, didn’t take the bait.

Alexia: Try to be.

And just like that, the conversation ended. You stared at your screen for a moment, exhaling. So this was how she wanted to play it. Fine. You’d see how badly she really wanted you there.

You did show up. Of course, you did. Not because Alexia asked—no, that would’ve been too easy. You told yourself it was because you had nothing better to do. Because you liked watching football. Because it was just coincidence that your schedule suddenly cleared up. You didn’t go alone however. Your family was in town, and when they heard you were planning to watch a football match, they insisted on coming along. That was the reason you were here. Your parents weren’t huge football fans, but they liked seeing you actually take time off from basketball. Your siblings, on the other hand, were all too eager to witness what they called the most obvious situationship in sports history.

You ignored their teasing. Mostly. But as you sat in the stadium, surrounded by them, you realised this was a test. Alexia didn’t just have an audience tonight—she had your audience. And she knew it. From the second the match kicked off, she was electric. She moved across the pitch with purpose, barely breaking a sweat as she dictated the game. Every time she touched the ball, something happened. A perfectly timed pass, a feint that left her defender stumbling, a moment of pure class that had the crowd roaring. Your siblings were eating it up.

"Is she always this good?" one of them asked, leaning closer.

"No," you muttered, watching as Alexia casually flicked the ball over an opponent’s head and collected it like it was nothing.

"She’s better."

And then, it happened. She scored. A ridiculous, impossible goal. The kind of goal that only someone showing off would even attempt. The stadium erupted. But Alexia she didn’t celebrate. She turned. Searched the crowd. Found you. Your breath caught as she held your gaze, her expression unreadable—except for the slight smirk tugging at her lips. Then, something changed. Her eyes flickered slightly to your right. To the person sitting next to you. Your sister-in-law. The same woman Alba had told her you went on a date with. And that’s when you saw it. Not through a phone screen. Not hidden behind playful messages or carefully worded captions.

But real, unmistakable jealousy.

Alexia’s smirk vanished. Her brows twitched, her jaw tightened ever so slightly. You had never seen her lose composure before. Until now. She tore her eyes away and turned sharply, jogging back toward the centre circle with stiff shoulders and a sudden, almost aggressive determination. Your sibling nudged you, barely holding in their laugh. "Oh, she definitely clocked that." You just sat back, exhaling slowly. This game wasn’t over. Not even close.

It wasn’t Alexia who reached out first.

It was Alba.

The message popped up on your phone late that night, hours after the game.

Alba Putellas: I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but she’s not handling it well.

You stared at the screen, rereading the words a few times. Of all the people you expected to hear from, Alexia’s younger sister wasn’t on the list. Before you could even process a response, another message came through.

Alba Putellas: I’m assuming you already know she saw you at the game.

Yeah. You definitely knew. You had seen the jealousy on Alexia’s face firsthand. You debated ignoring the message—keeping whatever this was between you and Alexia. But then your phone buzzed again.

Alba Putellas: She’s still annoyed about it, by the way. Hours later. Which, for her, means something.

You smirked, leaning back against your couch. Interesting. Instead of messaging back, you decided to let Alba talk. And she did.

Alba Putellas: I mean, I knew she was into you before, but I’ve never seen her like this. Alba Putellas: You’ve got her acting out. And Alexia doesn’t act out.

That was exactly why this was so fun. Because Alexia had spent weeks playing it cool—flirting with you, teasing you, pushing boundaries—but now? Now she was off balance. And she hated it. After a few moments, you finally replied.

You: Did she send you to message me?

Alba Putellas: Nope. If she knew, she’d kill me.

That made you laugh. Then a final message came through.

Alba Putellas: Just don’t make her suffer too much. She’s stubborn, but she’s not as smooth as she pretends to be.

You tapped your fingers against your phone, considering your options. Alexia had been the one pulling the strings this whole time. Maybe it was time to pull a few of your own.

You left it longer than a day this time. There was nothing. No likes. No comments. No subtle jabs or cryptic captions. Just silence. And the fans definitely noticed. At first, it was just a few speculative comments under your old posts. Then came the tweets—screenshots of your profile, of Alexia’s, of the suddenly empty space where your usual interactions used to be.

Did they fall out? Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? We were literally watching them flirt in real-time—what happened?!

You ignored it. You wanted Alexia to feel the absence. To see what it was like when you weren’t constantly playing into her game. But the moment that really sent people spiralling? When you finally posted something. Not a response to Alexia. Not some cryptic, teasing message. Just a simple family photo. A picture from your family’s visit to Barcelona—your parents, your siblings, even your sister-in-law. 

Everyone smiling, arms draped around each other.

Liked by Alexia Putellas.

That was all it took. The fans exploded. Screenshots, tweets, theories—it was everywhere within minutes. And not long after that, your phone buzzed.

Alexia: Nice picture.

You stared at the message, waiting for more. For her to bring up the game. The jealousy. The fact that she’d spent the entire match playing like she had something to prove to you. But nothing. She was ignoring it completely. Your lips twitched. Classic. If Alexia wanted to pretend nothing had happened, fine. You could play that game too. But she was the one who had broken the silence first. And that meant, slowly but surely, the control was shifting.

You let Alexia’s message sit. No rush to reply. No double-texting. Just a silent acknowledgment that she had been the one to break first. And the longer you left it, the more you knew she’d be waiting. Because Alexia Putellas was not used to being ignored. The fans had already gone into a meltdown over her like on your post, but now? Now they were watching even closer. Every tweet, every Instagram story, every single move was under scrutiny. You were enjoying it.

Eventually, after a couple of hours, you texted back.

You: Thanks. Family’s been visiting.

Short. Simple. No flirting. No teasing. And then, for fun, you left your phone on silent and went about your day. When you checked back later?

Alexia: They had a good time? Alexia: Barcelona treat them well?

The corner of your mouth twitched. She wasn’t directly addressing the past few days, but she was trying. Still, you took your time replying. When you finally did:

You: Yeah, they loved it. You: Might have to make it a regular thing.

You didn’t say who they loved seeing. Didn’t say what had made the trip so enjoyable. But you knew Alexia would read between the lines. And, just as expected, she didn’t leave you on read for long.

Alexia: Good.

You chuckled at the short reply, shaking your head. She was holding back. You could tell. She wanted to say something more, but after days of silence, she wasn’t sure how to play this. For once, you had the control. And that was fun. So you left her on read. Just to see what she’d do next.

Alexia didn’t double-text. Not at first. She let hours pass—too many hours for someone as stubborn as her. But you knew better. You knew she wasn’t the type to sit back quietly. So when your phone finally buzzed again, you weren’t surprised.

Alexia: You’re quiet.

You smirked, stretching out on your couch as you read it. She was trying to be subtle. Trying to act like she wasn’t affected. But if she really didn’t care? She wouldn’t be texting at all. You let a few more minutes pass before responding.

You: Been busy.

Nothing more. No explanation. No opening for her to steer the conversation back into something comfortable. You were making her work for it now. And, after another long pause, she finally took the bait.

Alexia: Busy doing what?

Now that made you grin. You could practically hear the curiosity in her voice, even through text. And if she was asking, it meant she’d been thinking about it. Thinking about you. So you kept her waiting just a little longer before replying.

You: You seem interested.

The three little dots popped up almost immediately. Then disappeared. Then popped up again. She was debating her next move.

Alexia: Maybe I am.

It was bold. Blunt. A step forward after days of skirting around whatever had been building between you two. But you weren’t about to let her off that easy.

You: Oh? What changed?

Another pause. Another moment where she had to decide if she was really going to commit to this.

Alexia: Nothing changed. Alexia: I’ve been interested.

And that was the moment the game shifted again. Because now, Alexia wasn’t playing it cool anymore.

She was chasing.

You let Alexia’s message sit there for a moment, just staring at it. 

I’ve been interested.

Direct. No teasing. No dodging. She wasn’t playing anymore. And, honestly? That made it more fun. Still, you weren’t about to let her off too easy.

You: Took you long enough to admit it.

The read receipt popped up instantly.

Alexia: You didn’t make it easy.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

You: Wasn’t my job to make it easy for you.

This time, her response came faster.

Alexia: No?

You: No.

Alexia: Then what is your job?

You tilted your head, considering her question. The easy answer? To mess with her. To push and pull until she finally cracked. But now, Alexia was actually trying. So maybe it was time to see just how far she was willing to go.

You: Is that why you were jealous of my sister-in-law?

Read at 11:42 PM.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Then disappeared.

Then reappeared.

And stayed there.

You leaned back, waiting. Because this was the moment of truth. She could deny it. Act like she hadn’t been glaring daggers across the stadium. Pretend she wasn’t sulking when she saw you sitting next to the woman Alba had wrongly assumed was your date.

Alexia: I wasn’t jealous.

You snorted.

You: Lying doesn’t suit you, Putellas.

Another pause. Longer this time.

Alexia: Maybe I was.

You grinned.

You: Figured.

Alexia: Shut up.

You: Make me.

The read receipt lingered for a full minute before she answered.

Alexia: Careful what you wish for.

And just like that, the game was really on. Alexia’s last message lingered on your screen.

Careful what you wish for.

A challenge. A warning. A promise. And yet, she still hadn’t made her move. So you let her sit with it. Let her wonder if you’d push back. Eventually, though, your patience ran thin. You replied the next morning sat in your cubicle ready for training to start.

You: Big words. You gonna back them up?

Read at 9:07 AM.

Nothing.

You smirked. She was thinking. Good. A few minutes passed before your phone finally buzzed.

Alexia: Where are you right now?

You raised an eyebrow.

You: Why? You gonna come prove your point?

Alexia: Maybe.

Now that caught your attention. Because this wasn’t just teasing anymore. She was actually considering it. You knew it. She knew it. And when you didn’t answer right away, she pressed again.

Alexia: Don’t go quiet now.

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head.

You: I’m at training.

You half-expected that to end the conversation. That the moment she was faced with reality, she’d back off.

Instead—

Alexia: Lucky for you, I’m only over the road.

Your breath hitched. She wasn’t backing off. She was doubling down.

And you had two options:

Keep playing the game.

Or let it finally tip over the edge.

So you leaned into it.

You: Good. Hope you play as hard as you talk.

She didn’t leave you on read this time.

Alexia: Guess you’ll find out.

And just like that, the waiting game was over.

Part 7

[slutforvoldy]

“ YOU'RE LOSING ME. ” ( lando norris ! )

SUMMARY: the reader struggles with the painful realization that no matter how much she gives, lando will never fight for her the way she fights for him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, lando is a d!ck, gaslighting, communication issues, mentions of y/n

pairing: lando norris x female!reader

tag-list: @oscduck81

a/n: this may or may not be loosely inspired by a real life experience..........

THE ROOM WAS dimly lit, the soft blue glow of Lando’s sim racing setup casting shadows across the walls. The hum of his game filled the silence, the sharp sound of tires screeching on a digital track drowning out the soft, broken sobs escaping your lips.

You lay curled up on the bed, your back turned to him. Salty tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the pillow. You weren’t even sure why you were crying anymore—was it sadness? frustration? or just the aching emptiness that was growing inside you?

You knew he could hear you. He always could.

But just like every other night, he turned up the volume of his game. Hinting an unspoken message: I don’t want to hear you. I don’t want to deal with you.

And gosh, it hurts.

He always does this. He rarely talks to you despite living in the same apartment. As if there is a big wall between the two of you. As if both of you have two different worlds. His priorities had shifted, and you weren’t part of them anymore. Gaming. Racing. Nights out with friends. Work. Everything came before you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew deep down that he just didn’t care the way he used to.

He used to act differently when your relationship started. You missed the time when it felt like his world revolved around you, when he made you feel like you were the most important thing in his life, but now you don't know when or what went wrong. You can only wonder what happened to the man you love.

Your friends are all begging you to leave.

"Wake up, Y/N!" "You deserve better." "What else is there to hold on to?"

It started to become obvious that the things Lando has been doing have been affecting you to the point that you started seeing a therapist, desperately trying to piece yourself back together.

But the worst part is that Lando never even noticed.

You knew that this was not healthy. You knew you should leave. But things are easier said than done.

The thought of walking away—of starting over, of loving someone who wasn’t him—made your stomach twist. It felt impossible, unbearable.

Despite everything, despite the pain, you still wanted to stay. You clung to the hope that one day he would wake up and realize what he was losing. That he would see you again—as someone he once loved. Someone worth fighting for.

So you stayed. Because letting go felt harder than holding on.

It’s a big day in Abu Dhabi—the moment that will decide the 2024 Formula 1 constructors' championship. McLaren almost has an even tie with Ferrari; therefore, they desperately needed Lando to win. So you take your time to self-soothe after what happened last night.

"You just don’t understand, Y/N. Why can’t you just accept the fact that I’m a busy person?" Lando exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice.

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, I’m sorry—if bar-hopping with your friends and getting all over the media with random girls counts as 'busy,' then I must be such an idiot for not taking the hint!"

His jaw tightened. "Those pictures are from a long time ago," he muttered.

"Oh, really?" you said amusingly while scoffing.

Silence stretched between you before you finally snapped. "All I ever wanted was for you to notice me! To talk to me! Hell, to actually see me! Is that really too much to ask?"

Lando ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "I don’t understand, Y/N. I’m giving you all the attention I can."

But it was never enough. It never felt like enough.

You sighed in defeat, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you wouldn’t understand."

This morning, like every morning, you glared at him with storms in your eyes. But he didn’t notice—he never did. You wondered how numb he could be to not feel your grip on him slipping away. How could you love someone and not see them breaking right in front of you?

All you needed was his reassurance—that despite everything happening, despite the way he treated you, you were still the one he loved. But every time you brought it up, he twisted it around, making it seem like you were the problem. Every conversation turned into an argument instead of a solution, and with each fight, your resentment only grew.

One night, you needed him more than ever. After a brutal argument with your parents, they kicked you out, leaving you with nowhere to go. Lando was the only person you could turn to—the one person you thought you could rely on.

"I tried calling you. I rang your doorbell over and over and over again, but you never answered." Your voice wavered, frustration and hurt bleeding through. "So tell me, Lando—where were you that night?"

"I was sleeping!" he insisted, his tone defensive.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Sleeping? Really?" You shook your head in disbelief. "I literally saw the notification on your Twitch that you were live with Max!" Your voice cracked as anger and betrayal surged through you. "You left me outside your house for hours!"

Lando exhaled sharply. "Maybe it’s your fault for always expecting too much," he muttered under his breath, but you caught every word.

Your stomach twisted as you stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe..." His voice became louder. "It’s my fault for not being enough for you," he added, his voice flat.

"Or maybe it's our fault for not making this relationship work properly."

That was your breaking point.

Lando won the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, securing McLaren’s victory in their fierce battle against Ferrari for the Constructors' Championship. You were proud—proud that your boyfriend had claimed another Grand Prix win, proud that his team had finally won. But deep down, you knew the truth: tonight, he wouldn’t be celebrating with you.

You often envied the girlfriends of other drivers—the way they rushed into their arms after a win, how they spent their victories surrounded by their girlfriends and families. But for you, it was different. You longed for that warmth.

Now, it was time to pose for the cameras, to put on a dazzling smile and make your relationship look picture-perfect—at least on the surface. In the photos, you were the devoted girlfriend, the perfect couple. But behind your fake smile, a storm raged inside you.

You had always been there for him—through his highs and lows, his victories and defeats. But when it was you who needed him, he was nowhere to be found.

And as the flashes of cameras captured the illusion of happiness, a sinking realization settled in your chest. You couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep giving all of yourself to someone who never gave anything back.

One thing was clear tonight—you were done hurting yourself for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you.

You took a taxi back to the hotel alone, your vision blurred with tears as the city lights streaked past. The moment you stepped into the room, you began packing—hands trembling, heart racing. You hadn’t planned this, but deep down, you knew it was inevitable. It wasn’t just impulsive; it was necessary.

As you zipped up your suitcase, your fingers brushed against a worn polaroid tucked between your clothes. Your favorite picture—back when love still felt easy, when he still looked at you like you were his entire world. You held it for a moment, your thumb tracing the edges, debating whether to take it with you.

But some things belonged to the past.

Flipping it over, you picked up the hotel pen and, with a heavy heart, wrote your final words.

I love you forever, Lando. I'm forever grateful. —Y/N

You placed the polaroid on the bed, letting it rest there. Then, with a deep breath, you grabbed your bags and walked to the door.

Before stepping out, you turned back for one last glance at everything you're about to leave behind. All of the memories you and Lando had, either good or bad.

Just like that, you walked out of his life, and with every step, the weight you had carried for so long finally began to lift.

[grimmsbride]

just a little thought:

what kink would all invincible/mark variants collectively have?

overstimulation

and I don’t mean just the typical overstimulation. I mean borderline painful

mainstream! mark — in good will; wants to make you feel mind-boggling pleasure for days

mohawk! mark — pure evil; wants nothing more than to leave you breathless, senseless, mindless, and completely mind-broken

omni! mark — dominance; as a means to show you who is in charge and WILL remind you about that no matter how much you’re sobbing uncontrollably

sinister! mark — pain; he wants you to feel pain, as much as it. he doesn’t care if it’s “too much”, you WILL orgasm how many times he wants

viltrumite! mark — uncaring; you are simply the carrier for his child, whether or not you can keep up doesn’t matter

no goggles! mark — sadistic; he knows you’re fragile, and he can’t help but “accidentally” push you over the edge, every time.

and so on. variant mayhem, more like variant freakhem am i right

𝄃𝄀⠀⠀pxssessive⠀╲ mark + variants ֤ࣨ🫀𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary mark and his variants have very few things in common, the main one being that they simply can not stop at making you come once.

tags overstimulation (ofc) | the variants being jerks | everything purely consensual | dom & sub dynamics (omni!mark) | viltrumite!mark is lowkey mean as hell | pain kink | ooc sorryy | just a little mix of blurbs and headcanons | mentions of blacking out (sinister! mark) | incubator mention (viltrumite! mark) |

notes uhm this took so long for me to write, i’m so sorry 😭, but i wanted to get it done i loved this request the “freakhem” comment had me crying during vacation. i hope you enjoy and please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

when it comes to sex, mainstream! mark simply doesn’t know how to hold back— his entire objective is to leave you a whimpering, shaking mess. this is especially clear when his mouth is on your pretty cunt.

unfortunately for you, he could sit there for hours.. strong arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, center nice, open, and pliable to his perfect mouth. mainstream!mark is sucking on your swollen bud, tongue gliding across your slit, even driving the thick appendage right into your fluttering hole.

even when you protest about the ache running through your entire body, mainstream!mark simply can not leave you be until your throat is practically sore from how much you’re screaming his name.

“ma—mark, baby, please— i need to breathe!” there’s tears trailing down your reddened cheeks, coating the old trails from just moments ago. your fingers are gliding in his fluffy locks, stuck between bringing him closer and pushing him away— a silent battle between mind and matter.

fuck, do you look so good like this, mainstream! mark could practically come in his pants— grinding right against your bed whilst he came off your clit with a harsh pop; quickly replacing his lips with his thumb.

“i know you have another one for me, baby.. c’mon i got you.” always so encouraging and sweet, tone dripping with honey as he stared at you with those lidded eyes.

eyes that were so hypnotizing, you couldn’t help but give in to his every command. even if it if your “giving in” was nothing more then a whine and you practically shoving his face into your sex.

mainstream!mark would only giggle, hand gliding across your thigh a simple that’s my girl vibrating against your wetness.

. . .

everyone, and i mean everyone knows mohawk!mark is a jerk that does things for his own entertainment. this is especially true during sex.

the man cares for you, in his own twisted away, yet enjoys showing you just how human you truly are.

mohawk!mark will fuck you for hours, maybe even from afternoon to early morning. he doesn’t care, he will use your body to exhaustion all with the shittiest little smile on his face.

always bouncing between positions (doggy, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary, standing up) nothing is off the table. the man has even fucked you against the window, simply cause he could. you’re too tired to protest anyway.

three.. five? was that how many orgasms that’s ran through your entire body in the past thirty minutes or so? you couldn’t tell, with the way mohawk!mark was practically bullying your sensitive cunt, hands kept tightly at your knees as he pushed them against your chest.

your voice didn’t even sound like your own anymore, completely foreign to you with the way it sounded so raw and dry— throat abused just as much as your poor cervix. and through a glossy gaze you could see the man responsible, the way his eyebrows were pushed close together, a sickeningly sweet grin pulling his lips.

the moment mohawk!mark caught your eyes his smirk only worsened, shoving himself so deep you swore you saw stars.

“you still with me, babe?”

that gave you assurance, trying to reach over and push at his hips, a silent plea to slow down— only for it to trickle down the drain the moment the man swatted your hand away, leaning over your body as his hips snapped against yours without a care.

“nuh uh.. i’m not done with you, not one bit.”

. . .

oh, sweetheart.. what did you do? you know better, right? getting into a relationship with omni!mark, it was made clear from the start the expectations placed upon you. always obeying, quiet when needed, etc..

he wasn’t too hard all the time, you were human after all; the man made an effort to let little things slide.

only this time, he couldn’t. maybe you mouthed off inappropriately, maybe you looked at him in a way he hated, doesn’t matter— all omni!mark knew is you disrespected him, and that wouldn’t slide.

you needed a punishment, one that really drilled into your pretty little head the importance of your roles.

“i—i’m sorry, f—fuck! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” tears are streaming down your face as you shoved it into the mattress below, weak sobs shaking through your entire body as the man abused your fluttering hole.

with each thrust omni!mark was practically fucking you right into the mattress, thick length dragging across your tortured gummy walls in such a steady rhythm you couldn’t even think.

your mouth hung open once again in an attempt to plead your case, only to cry out the moment his hand pushed at your neck from behind and he thrusted sharply right against your cervix.

“i’ve told you before about your mouth..” you would think the man didn’t love you, how his eyes were glaring down at your body, shoving himself into you relentlessly. “you should be thanking me for giving you so many chances..”

before he could give even get it out, gratitude was falling from your lips, wet gasps escaping between each word. omni!mark couldn’t help the way his cock twitched as a result, pulling you up to his chest in one swift motion while thrusting up into you sharply.

“why do i have to punish you for you to behave?”

“i—i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

“i know. i’ll let you know when i’ve forgiven you.”

. . .

do you think sinister!mark just wakes up with a set number in mind and is like.. that’s how long i plan to torture the human i supposedly care for, no matter how much they protest?

honestly that’s what i think. the man has killed millions without batting an eye, you truly think he’s gonna give a damn about how much you beg for mercy? nope, not at all.

on the contrary sinister!mark simply can’t help getting harder at your instance of a break, cock swelling so much inside you swore he grew a few inches.

“tightening up so fucking much.. shit.. ha— did you black out again?”

amusement is practically dripping from every word that escapes his lips, sinister!mark staring down at you with harsh eyes, enjoying the way you tried so desperately to catch your breath— only to track right back to square one the moment he thrusted into you.

he’s giggling to himself, leaning down close, chest brushing against your own as his lips pressed against your ear.

“you black out again, i’m adding two more.”

you couldn’t help but release a sob, pathetically hitting at his arms in a last ditch effort to disclose how much you hated that idea. sinister!mark is laughing at you, shoving himself so deeply there’s a bulge protruding through your tummy.

he’s quick to snatch your hands, shoving them against the mattress as he bruised your poor walls, eyes staring down at you with so many emotions swirling through his gaze.

“you aren’t escaping this.. not any time soon, anyway.”

. . .

viltrumite!mark is.. probably the least caring out of all of them entirely. sex is fun, sure, but his main purpose is shoving his seed into you to get a kid. he’s ruling the planet with the expectation of spreading his power across dimensions, of course he needs someone to keep up his legacy.

that’s where you come in, his perfect little human partner, the perfect little incubator for his objective.

whenever the man has downtime (which isn’t a lot mind you) you will find yourself under his mercy for hours, filled to the brim with his seed so much you’re wondering if your stomach is bulging at this point. he’s quick to shove every drop back in, even having the decency to research which positions is best to get a kid.

“mark.. mark please..” you’re crying at this point, overstimulated and filled to the brim, sweat trickling down your body. however your calls of his name are falling on deaf ears, viltrumite!mark not even focused on you, but instead your pussy.

he’s pulling his hips back, spotting the sticky ring of combined juices around the base of his dick, gaze focusing on the way his seed was dribbling down to your taint.

the man is clicking his tongue, eyebrows pushed close as he gave a particularly hard thrust into your cunt.

“stay in..” viltrumite!mark mutters, as if lecturing your pussy, throughly expecting it to obey his command. his hands are tight on your thighs, legs tossed over his shoulders as he fucked into you.

he doesn’t even stop the moment you reach for his hip, instead allowing his harsh gaze to drop to your features, as if confused on why you were touching him.

“ma—“

“we will stop when i, say so. until then, quit moving.”

. . .

no goggles! mark knows no bounds. his sadomasochism is always shining, especially during sex. when he learned what overstimulation was — or rather learned the reactions he could get from you during it — every single time the two of you have sex, he’s pushing you to the brink; abusing your body so greedily, a perfect toss between pleasure and pain.

even when you beg, cry, sob— the man is only giggling above you, maybe even planting the wettest kiss to your already damp cheeks. it doesn’t help he’s encouraging too, sickeningly sweet words that don’t match the way his hips are slapping against your own without a care for your body.

speaking of, it’s trembling at this point from the aftershocks; running from your head to your toes in an ache you simply couldn’t describe. you were breathing manually at this point, splotches of black invading your already blurry vision.

you’re reaching out for your lover, blindly, hand raising about only to wince the moment no goggles! mark snatched it, linking your fingers, and shoving it to the mattress.

“can’t take it can you?..” the man is muttering, hissing in delight the moment he felt your nails drag across his skin, eyes wildly soaking in the way your swollen lips pulled into a pout, whining for mercy.

yet he doesn’t give it to you, no, he simply can’t— not with the way you look beyond delicious under his mercy.

no goggles! mark tuts, a mocking sound that you would have slapped him for if you were in the right state of mind — albeit the man would probably just ask for another, harder slap —. his free hand is tight on your thigh, angling his hips perfectly to strike your g-spot with each thrust. you’re a whimpering mess, shaking like a damn leaf with no sign of calming down.

“i’m not done, and you’re not done either— i know you got more in you.. fuck, baby you feel so good!”