#all of my friends are excited and i’m like.

[mywritersmind]

LITTLE SISTERS ARE UNKNOWINGLY GREAT MATCH MAKERS - KA12

summary : Girlhood is meeting a younger girl in a bathroom and giving her a friendship bracelet. You happen to get lucky when that little girls introduces you to the youngest driver on the grid.

listen up : no warnings!

words : 1212 (wow that’s crazy)

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“I like your dress.” A little girl says, her voice confident and clearly italian. I smile at her in the mirror before pulling my hands away from the sink and grabbing a towel.

I turn fully to her, her eyes big and brown, looking up at me in awe, “Thank you!” I throw the towel away as she smiles softly, “I like your headphones.” She's in white pants and a black jacket, the bright pink headphones around her neck.

She looks down when I say it, “Bit stupid.”

I shake my head as she backs away from the sink, “Never!” I reach into my purse and pull out my little earplugs that are in a clear case. She smiles at this.

I turn back to the mirror again, fixing my hair and applying my lipgloss. My eyes wander to the small girl who still resides next to me, looking at herself in the mirror and swiping on chapstick.

“You’re a mercedes fan?” I say.

She nods eagerly, pushing her lip balm into her pocket and touching her hat. “It’s my brother's team!” I smile at her enthusiasm, “Are you?”

“Not particularly…” As in George Rusell makes me uneasy and Kimi Antonelli is making me feel unaccomplished since we’re the same age. “I root for Mclaren.”

She seems a bit sad at this, but nods nonetheless. “Do you want a friendship bracelet?” I ask just before she goes to leave. She’s absolutely adorable and definitely a new friend (one i’ll probably never see again) but still, I take one of the beaded bracelets off my wrist and hand it to her.

It says, VROOM, with a tiny beaded F1 car that took me a whole hour to figure out how to make. “Wow!”

I stand up straighter, “I’m Y/n!”

“Maggie.” She says her name quick, her eyes unmoving from her wrist, the bracelet a tad too big. She finally looks up at me again when we both go to leave, “Thank you!”

We walk into the public area, the paddock not crowded for the first time all day, “I’m glad you like it.” I’m too focused on her little eyes lighting up to notice that a guy is staring at us. He pushes off the wall, walking towards us in a far too familiar way. Holy shit.

Maggie says something in italian.

She says something in italian directed to the guy.

The guy who also happens to be Kimi Antonelli.

Kimi smiles at the girl as it all dawns on me. Oh fuck. When she said, ‘it’s my brother's team’ she didn’t just mean that he supports them. She meant he drives for them!

He tugs at her hat so it goes over her eyes as she groans and elbows him, “No wonder you took so long, making friends?”

Maggie nods, saying something in Italian and raising her wrist so Kimi can see her bracelet. He nods, probably not interested but he smiles at her.

Then he smiles at me.

“Did you make it yourself?” His accent is smooth yet his demeanor is still boyish.

I laugh awkwardly, “Uh yeah, sorry I didn’t make any Mercedes ones.” He shrugs it off.

“Black and teal gets boring!” Maggie cuts in, still admiring her bracelet under Kimi’s arm, “I like pink!” Kimi and I look at eachother, smiling at the younger girls' excitement. She clearly gets distracted when she sees an older woman, promptly running away and yelling, “Mama!”

Kimi laughs, not making a move to leave, “I think this is the most interesting thing that’s happened to her all weekend.” He slips his hands into his pockets, smiling at me. Christ he’s cute.

“Honestly she’s made my weekend.” I swipe a piece of hair from my face, “I’m sure she was more excited about her brother’s big F1 debut than a bracelet.” I scoff as he laughs.

“I don’t know…” He looks at Maggie, her hair bobbing up and down as she shows their mom her new jewelry. “Show her pink and she sort of gravitates…”

I smile, “Is she an Alpine fan then?”

He shakes his head, still smiling shyly, “I won’t let that happen.” When I don’t say anything, he sways, “Are you? An Alpine fan, I mean…”

I shake my head, looking down at my light pink dress, “Nah… just hate wearing bright orange.”

He nods, “Oh! I’m Kimi, by the way.”

I hold back a grin, “I know… I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” I think my heart skips a beat when he says my name, “Thanks for being so nice to my sister.”

“No problem, she’s adorable!”

Maggie comes up to us again, “Could you teach me how to make one?”

Kimi raises a brow, “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t just carry beads with her, Mag.”

I blush, “Actually… I do, and I can totally try!”

She runs off again, leaving Kimi and I, “She’s really sweet, though she might not want my help with the beads… I made one and gave up like two hours in.”

He laughs, “She referred to you as ‘pretty girl’ when she told me you gave her a bracelet, so I'm pretty sure she already loves you no matter if you can recreate it or not.” I laugh a bit when he says this, my cheeks are probably already red.

“I remember being like that with every older girl I encountered.” It’s true, every little girl I see I just want to cry because of how much I loved being that young.

“Yeah well she’s got good instincts.” his tongue runs over his bottom lip, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen… you know, my mom found out you were driving this year and made me get a job!” He’s laughing harder now.

“Shit… I'm sorry. What were you forced into?”

“Well, it’s not bad.” I shrug, “I intern at McLaren actually. My mom’s a driver manager.” His eyebrows go up, nodding at my words.

“So you get to travel with the drivers?” He looks almost… hopeful.

I nod, “Basically. I want to work in F1 media so it’s hopefully getting me used to my future.”

“That’s really cool.” Honestly if it were any other teenage boy saying that, I wouldn’t believe him. But something about Kimi Antonelli tells me that he doesn’t half ass anything, even his words.

“Yeah…” I bite my lip, swaying on my feet.

“Hey! Um before you go…” He pulls out his phone, “Can I get your number?” I raise a brow instinctively, “For Maggie!” I try not to frown, taking the phone and typing in my number and name, “And maybe… for dinner sometime? I fly to China right after this.”

I bite back a smile, “That’d be fun, I go straight there after the race.”

I think he’s… blushing? “Right. Well uh… maybe I can convince you that black and teal are right for you.”

“If you take me out and try to convert me from papaya, I will never let you forget it!” I threaten as he starts walking away backwards.

“Yeah I'm planning on that, pretty.” He bites his lip, nodding and leaving. I roll my eyes and walk away, my cheeks pink and my smile wide.

[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.

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[ugokuna]

It Was Always You

Pairing: Sukuna Ryomen x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just one accidental, drunken kiss after a party, something you should've forgotten in a couple of days. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’ve moved on. That Sukuna had as well. You doubted he remembered anything; especially with every new girl he kissed and every party he was at. Sure, there were occasional glimpses and shared moments together, but those meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything.

Tags: mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, missing pov, playboy(?)/fratboy/athlete sukuna, college!jjk au, reader’s major is unspecified, inaccurate and glorified depictions of college/college parties (so many parties to move the plot foward) and frats, peer pressure, cliche tropes, lots of time jumps, they were roommates (but not in the way you think), situationship (also not in the way you think), reader is introverted but NOT shy

A/N: English is not my first language. It also has been a minute since I've written anything, so forgive me if this is not the best, think of it like a warm up. I just had to post this one, it has been sitting in my drafts for toooooo long. Inspired by a fanfic I read about Ushijima/Oikawa by jaaesthetixx called Two Years too long on ao3 (definitely check it out!) . Proof read but I'm only human. The picture below is not my own, copyrights to the original artist!!

Word Count: 13.6K (it's a long one)

The auditorium is loud with bustling voices all being ushered by tired returnee students through the double doors. The atmosphere is filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, you stand there quiet as the crowd walks around you. You, a little out of place, about to begin the best four years of your life as everyone has been telling you.

As you situate yourself into your seat, you hear a group of boys in front of you rough housing with each other as they make their way a row down from you. One man from the group catches your attention; in stark contrast there sits Sukuna Ryomen, a Chemistry major with a growing reputation with every passing second. With the way he carried himself, smiling and laughing at everyone, he attracted crowds. Even during the campus tour, everyone was flocking his way, each one vying for his attention, drawn by his enigmatic aura.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” A girl places a hand on his biceps.

Sukuna gives her a dashing smile. “Are you?” He leans into her touch.

She laughs. “Yes.”

A wink her way. “Then I am too. Looking forward to it.”

As the group watches her leave, another man puts Sukuna in an arm lock, nudging their knuckles into his head. “Quit it, will you?” It was Fushiguro Toji, a Kinesiology major. He was perhaps just as popular as Sukuna, constantly catching the eyes of women in a more subtle and quieter way.

“What about you?” The man is able to get out of Toji’s grasp, hair sticking all different ways.

“Um… what?” You try to play it off, as if you weren’t listening to the entire conversation while waiting for your friend.

“Ask for the girl’s name first,” Toji berates the man.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. ”I’m just trying to break the ice first.” He turned his full attention back to you.

It didn’t bother you how Sukuna’s attention seemed to be pulled every which way. It’s something you observed quite quickly from earlier interactions. Catching and keeping his attention for longer than a minute seemed to be impossible with him.

“So?”

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “Your name?”

You give it to him.

He tilts his head. “So then, Yn, what’s your major?”

Heat starts to rise within your body and you hate how you feel embarrassed. ”I don’t know. I’m undeclared right now.

“Totally understandable. Better than a Chem major right? Actually-” Before he can get the last words in, Toji practically turns him around in his seat to pay attention to the presentation that’s been going on for five minutes now. Not a second later, your dorm mate, Maki, makes her way back to the seat you saved from the bathroom. “Did I miss anything important?”

After the presentation, everyone’s celebrating now that the boring orientation that’s lasted all day has ended. You’re about to make way to your dorm when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Hey,” you turn. It’s Sukuna. “I forgot to ask but do you wanna go to the party with everyone?”

“It’s gonna be a pool party!” Someone yells out from the crowd.

You hesitantly shake your head, “I don’t know, I can’t swim. Maybe-”

“You don’t even have to swim,” he reassures you. “Promise it’ll be so much fun. You’d meet so many new people.”

You almost want to laugh at that statement. It had come to no surprise that he had said it; everyone was practically crowd pushing him away from you with each passing second. All he can give you is an apologetic look before disappearing into the rush of people.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you get to the party, the music is loud, the bass reverberating through your entire body. You look to your side and shrug to Maki, who’s giving you an arched brow, before you both walk in through the door. Hands are grabbing at both of you, trying to pull you every which way. You don’t even know how you got a cup in your hand. Maki is able to shove them all off and starts directing you towards the back yard. Discreetly putting your full cup on a random table, you’re stopped in your tracks as you spot Sukuna in the kitchen, shotgunning with Toji as, you noticed, a new group of people surrounding him cheer him on. All of them chanting his name.

The night air is crisp. It’s refreshing compared to the humid atmosphere in the house. The water in the pool is illuminating so bright in contrast to the low yellow lights of the house. Maki chugs her cup before asking, “Why are we here in the first place?”

All you can give her is a chuckle.

Sukuna spots you from inside the house, talking to one other person. You seemed so deep in the conversation. He sees a bunch of his newly acquainted friends approach you with a bottle and a shot glass. His feet are moving before he can even comprehend what’s happening, excusing everyone he bumps into and makes his way to you as he sees you struggling to get them off your ass.

From behind you, he says "Thanks, I needed that" as he reaches for the shot from his friend's hands, downs it, before making his way back into the house, the group following behind him. Thank you is stuck on the tip of your tongue as you watch him take a ping pong ball into his hand, the upperclassmen cheering him on beer pong. He barely catches your eyes for a second before he turns his attention back to the game.

Maki finally makes her way to your side, asking, “Who was that?”

You can barely utter a response to her as you watch him knuckle his friend’s head when they miss the shot. You had come to the conclusion then that you were worlds apart, especially with his charisma.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sorry about this again,” Toji grunts as you both carry Sukuna up to his dorm, on the verge of passing out on your shoulders. He’s mumbling something incoherent but you both decide to ignore the man. He had caused enough trouble already, challenging the sophomore Mahito to another drinking contest.

“It’s no big deal. It’s the least I can do after he helped me out of a situation,” you tell Toji.

“Huh,” he huffs out. “How ‘bout that.”

After taking a few stops and tumbles up the stairs, you make it to their shared dorm, one you’ve realized was only two floors above you. Toji gives you the access key as he rushes off to get the fallen objects scattered across the stairs and lobby.

You lean closer into him, quietly asking, “Can you walk?” Silence, then a hum. “Can you walk?”

You both make way to his bed before he can even give you a coherent response and start lowering him down. “Careful. You got it?” You’re the one struggling to lay him down slowly and not slam him head first into the bed.

“Oh, shit.” Tripping over each other’s feet, Sukuna slams onto the bed anyways, his arm around your shoulder dragging you down with him.

“Wait! Wait-” His lips are on yours before you know it. It’s soft, warm –probably from the alcohol– and as light as a feather. It’s almost shy, all that boldness from the morning and at the party gone. You pull away abruptly, breathing heavily, fingers deftly touching your lips. A ghost of cigarette scent lingers behind in its wake.

You’re not sure if you heard a sorry from him as you’re rushing out of the room, bumping into a flabbergasted Toji in the hallway, spitting out the quickest excuse possible. You, who runs away, ears tinted red because he stole your first kiss.

Sukuna, who is passed out drunk when Toji makes his way back, utterly confused, asking where you were going and him saying how he'd probably fucked up.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It came to no surprise that you both gravitated towards different groups on campus, enveloped into two different hemispheres. You often saw him rushing to class with Toji following shortly behind, scolding him. Some days you see him with a different group on each different day of the week; always engrossed in whatever they were talking about. You could never seem to get away from him, he was the talk of the campus between all your classmates.

He often saw you with Maki. Always just the two of you, always routine, always disciplined. Something he clearly lacked, as Toji stated to him one night when they were procrastinating on studying for a test the next day. You seemed too far from him to ever close the gap; you were involved with different organizations and people completely opposite of him.

Only ever a glimpse whenever the other person wasn’t looking. Never crossing paths, staying out of each other’s bubbles.

You see him join a fraternity a quarter into freshman year with Toji; easily sporting that black and red fraternity jacket with pride at a party. You had come to the first rugby game of the season to support Maki’s new boyfriend Yuta, who was on the team, where you happened to see Sukuna on the rugby field as well; sporting new pink hair.

Again, drawing a big crowd as they lift him up in the air after scoring the winning point for the first game of the season. Him, displaying that toothy grin as his face. It lifestyle seemed to suit him well.

As everyone scrambles to get to their cars to go to the after-party to celebrate, you quickly make your way to the stadium bathroom. You’re nearly skipping from how full your bladder is and when you turn the corner-

There’s no mistaking that freshly dyed pink hair, immediately recognizing it as Sukuna Ryomen. Here he was, kissing a girl with his jacket on in the back of the stadium stairs. You freeze. You don’t know why, this was normal. You feel guilty for catching him in such an intimate moment; guilting for something else–perhaps for getting hopeful.

He didn’t owe you anything, you had to wrap that around your head. Given how much you’ve learned about him in such a short amount of time, this was a given. This was who he was, there was no denying that by anyone.

Running back to Maki and Yuta, who’s shooting you confused looks, all you can do is push them into the car and tell them to hurry home to go pee. When they question you, all you can muster is that the bathrooms were locked. You wonder if he even remembered that night. You want that memory out of your head.

They drop you off after much persuasion that you’d meet up with them later at the party for the celebration.

When Yuta enters the frat house with Maki, Sukuna watches from a distance as the duo walks in before making his way to the couple with a practiced smile while he scans behind them. “Where’s Yn?”

“She’s coming later,” Yuta tells him, grabbing the offered drink from Sukuna and leaves with Maki.

The entire night he has his eyes glued to the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Landing yourself a job at the school library meant, though it was not often, seeing Sukuna there. Sometimes you see him studying, sometimes you see him tutoring someone, sometimes you see him playing Tetris on his computer as he tunes out an online class that seems very important.

There seems to be a backlog of books needing reshelving so you’ve been tasked with shelving books for the remainder of the shift. It really is mundane work but you believe it’s better than Maki’s physical job of carrying heavy loads. You hear a whisper then a squeal as you turn to the next aisle.

“We have to be quiet.” You knew that voice. You peek through the bookshelf, not knowing why since you know it belongs to Sukuna, his back to you.

“Or else what?” She leans into his touch as she laughs.

“Don’t wanna get caught do we? Gotta respect the rules here.”

And then he’s going in for the kiss, starting at the neck before making his way to the girl’s lips, who reciprocates with equal passion. With an attempt to give them some privacy, you accidentally knock down some books. And when you look back up, your eyes catch hers and she screams.

Before Sukuna can even turn around to see all the commotion, you’re gone. He looks back at the girl. “What is it?”

She scowls. “Some girl was snooping in on us. What a weirdo.”

Sukuna looks back for one last measure, craning his neck to see, catching anything. Nothing. And then he’s getting pulled back in.

You slam the books down and rush to get your things, stuffing your charger and papers into your bags in a hurry. “Sorry,” you spill out. “I wasn’t able to finish shelving these last books. I just realized I have a meeting to catch!”

The coworkers can barely get a response out before you’re out the doors. Why did you always have such bad timing?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It wasn’t until sophomore year that you started to find your footing here at the college. You honestly have Toge and Panda to thank for that. If you hadn’t met them, you probably wouldn’t have chosen the major you did. Toge Inumaki, though the yapper he was, really made you love all the communications class you took together. You didn’t know what to expect from Panda. Definitely not barely passing a mathematics class together, that’s for sure.

Sukuna’s head turns when he hears your voice. “At least the teacher likes me more,” you tell Panda who taunts you by sticking his tongue out. It seemed like your group was heading out downtown.

“Yea, yea sure.”

He watches you sigh in mock frustration, but not without catching the teasing smile that’s growing on your face. “Don’t come crying to me if I pass the class and you don’t.”

Sukuna can’t help the scoff that comes out of his mouth before he continues on his homework.

“What’s so funny?” Toji asks.

The pink haired man can only shake his head, hand coming up to cover the grin. “Nothing, nothing.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The crowd erupts into a complete frenzy as Sukuna scores, yet again, the winning goal. As you and the group make your way down the stands to celebrate with Yuta, embracing him in an all encompassing hug, you aren’t sure if you had caught Sukuna’s eyes. Everything was happening too fast as the crowd swallowed him up.

“Thanks man, ‘ppreciate it,” he says for the nth time tonight after another person congratulates him. He touches his cup to the man before taking a sip when he hears your laugh. He turns towards the crowd, scanning. He hadn’t seen you come in and he missed the change to talk to you at the end of his game.

He can’t seem to get a good view of you until he hears your laughter die down abruptly, followed by hesitant no’s. His body is moving even before he can understand anything, barely tuning in to everyone who’s slapping him on the back for a job well done today.

And then he finally sees you. Cornered by one of his frat mates, Mahito, shoving a shot glass into your hand, clinking it with his before tilting it towards your mouth.

One, two strides and he intercepts. Grabbing the shot just as it barely touches your lips and downs it in one fluid motion. He sets it down harshly, making you jump. There’s a silence between the two men as you watch from behind Sukuna’s shoulders before Mahito slowly raises his hand in defeat, and leaves without much protest.

“Um, thank you,” you’re finally able to muster out, raising a finger to tap his shoulder.

He turns around before you can ever make contact. “You should really-”

“I was looking for water,” you interrupted him. “Some water…” you repeat again.

He sighs, reaching behind you and opens the fridge, tossing you two cold water bottles and leaves it at that to chase down Mahito.

When the party starts to wind down, Sukuna takes the chance to move to the balcony on the second floor to smoke. He digs out a crumpled cigarette, it would have to do. As he lights the butt up, he looks up to the sound of footsteps. Taking a whiff, holding it in before blowing it out, he gives you a nod of acknowledgement. He tries to keep a neutral face but can’t help but have his brow twitch at you approaching him, almost tentatively. He leans back against the rail.

“What’re you doing up here?”

“Sorry, is this off limits?” And yet here you were, still walking towards him. You settle on one side of the balcony.

He shrugs and goes for another before blowing it out carelessly towards you. Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his actions.

“Yuta said I could come up here.”

“Yuta?” He says in disbelief. “That scrawny emo kid?”

You shoot him a look. “Hey!”

Sukuna huffs at the sweet noise you made, turning his head and blowing out the smoke. “Just the truth, he’s a newb.”

He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes. “So are you. Didn’t you and Toji both start at the same time?”

Sukuna lets his cigarette drop to the floor as he leans in closer to you. “You see me on the field today?

“I did.” It’s almost bashful.

He dares to lean a bit closer. “And what did you think? Did I look like a newbie out there?”

Everything is forgotten when Sukuna sees you reciprocating his actions. “I think-”

“Sukuna!” Toji calls out for him as he makes his way to the balcony, clearly out of breath. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were busy. Hey Yn.”

You give him a small smile and wave.

Toji’s already tugging Sukuna along by the sleeve of his jacket. “Come on, I made a bet saying you could finish the funnel faster than Mahito. Betted Gojo winning against Geto and he fucking lost. Can’t let me down now.” And he’s dragged away before he can even say anything, taking one last look at you before heading downstairs to the backyard.

And when he’s done, belly full of beer and deal won, he rushes back up to the balcony knowing very well you wouldn’t be there but being disappointed anyways.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wrapping up sophomore year is hectic and stressful. Sukuna is ever busy trying to gear himself to being vice president of his fraternity for the upcoming school year. Drawing in tabling, hosting events, and running booths that you often run by when going to class. He always looked so into it, voice booming above all others. Convincing old friends and new to vote for him, convincing fresh boys to rush his fraternity over others.

When he’s warming up for rugby practice, he sees you and Toji walking side by side. Watch as the both of you both laugh at something before parting ways. He sees you biting your lip in the cafe as you angrily tap away at your laptop, the wrinkles on your forehead more prominent than ever.

Thanking his tutor for the day, Sukuna starts to pack up his things as he’s running late to his fraternity meeting. He’s about to text one of the members before he catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.

“Here you go.”

You shriek a bit before covering your mouth. After looking around, hoping you didn’t disrupt anyone, you looked up at the man standing behind you. “You scared me!” you whisper-yell at him while grabbing the book from his grasp you had trouble reaching.

“You’re welcome,” his voice hinting at something, brow raised. “Don’t they have those long ladders?”

Turning to finally face him, you hug the book to your chest. “Yes, they do, but I thought I didn’t need it.”

He only hums before leaning in closer. “Oh, yea?” He picks off invisible lint off your shoulder before bracing his arm next to it. “What’re doing in the library?”

“I work here,” you state matter of factly.

“That so…” his voice wanders off. Interesting.

“Yes,” you reply, ducking under his arm. He was too close, his proximity taking you back to that night freshman year. You didn’t need that memory resurfacing after all this time. Both of you were about to be juniors in college, it was embarrassing how you just couldn’t let it go. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a lot of things to do right now.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Junior year is beginning to look good. You’ve just applied for an internship and have signed a lease for an apartment. The school year starts off with great news of Sukuna as well: becoming the vice president of his fraternity and captain of the rugby team. You can't help but smile when you read it in the school’s newspaper. You’re happy for him.

It's no surprise that with the new achievement and the start of the semester, it’s a big party; the fraternity house is filled to the max. As you weaved through the crowd, hand in hand with Shoko, you couldn't help but have your eyes wander to a certain silhouette. It didn't matter anyways, you both weren't going to stay long anyway. You both have prior commitments the day after.

But nothing ever goes to plan as you find yourself staying past the time you guys agreed on. And it's not until you find her slumped against Gojo that you rush over to her. You try to drag her out of the house, men start approaching you, grabbing and pulling everywhere.

You can only offer her a smile when she mumbles something about Gojo and tell her you're taking her to the bathroom first before leaving. The line is long and everyone's giving you the stink eye and it makes you want to crawl into your own skin while Shoko is hanging onto your shoulder telling everyone to fuck off.

Toji comes to the rescue and tells you to go upstairs to the master room, no one should be in it. As you burst through the door, you stop.

Both are topless, hands skimming and touching everywhere. Sukuna’s on top in a heated make out session with a girl who screams and pushes the pink haired man away.

You quickly shield your eyes and apologize. "I- I’m sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt! Toji, he said no one would be up here and-" The girl shoves past you as she sends you a dirty remark, making you drop Shoko. You sigh out in frustration.

"It's okay," he reassures you quickly.

Your eyes notice the bruising marks on his chest and neck and you realize you're staring. You divert your gaze back to the ground as you decide to focus your attention back to putting Shoko on your shoulder.

You can't really see him that well in the dark lighting. What his face reads. What his eyes say. "Here, let me help." He approaches and you tense up in panic

"No! No," you say more calmly. You feel like crying for some reason. And you hate it. Stupid, you tell yourself. There was nothing to cry about, you've seen it before. Many times. It certainly wasn't going to be the last. "We’ll go somewhere else. Again, I-" you inhale. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, seriously.”

Sukuna calls out your name. “I know-” And then Shoko throws up on the floor. On Sukuna's feet.

And that's the last you see of him as you apologize profusely, tears brimming from ruining his carpet before you rush out to call a taxi.

Sukuna Ryomen, you really are a heartbreaker.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As Sukuna walks up to the desk, sliding the two books he checked out a week ago, he asks where you are. He hadn’t seen you working in the library for the past few weeks.

The staff scans his book. "Oh, you mean Yn? Her internship schedule didn’t work out with this job, so she quit. Heard she’s doing just fine though!”

Sukuna can only nod as he walks out the door to go to his next class, he can't help the growing smile on his face. It brings him back to the first day he saw you at orientation; how timid and frightened you looked before walking inside the big doors before him. How you nearly shook when asked by him what your major was, voice full of uncertainty when you told him undeclared. Truly, it amazed Sukuna to see how much you've grown now compared to him.

It looked like he had some catching up to do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"When are you leaving for your study group?" Uruame, your new roommate, yells from her room. You got along with her quite well for having just met her a few months ago.

"Maybe in about ten minutes or less? Why?" You close your laptop, having just finished a task for your internship.

"Oh, good. I have a friend coming over soon, that's why. He should be gone by the time you come back." She can be heard rumbling around through the room before adding, "He should be here any minute. When he does, can you open the door for him?"

You yell back a yea and within five minutes there's a knock on the door. "Hi-” All you can really do is stare.

Sukuna is speechless as well as he watches you move to the side to let him in. He passes through the threshold, unsure of what to say.

"Sorry about that," you tell him, closing the door behind him and clearing your throat. "It's nice to see you again."

He only nods. "I didn't know you were Uruame's roommate. If I knew-"

"It's okay!" you chirp up, guiding the pink hair to the living room. “Do you want some-”

"Sorry for the wait!" Uruame finally comes out, pecking Sukuna on the cheek.

You quickly look away.

He watches you. And you miss the way he's searching for you, the way he’s trying to tell you something.

"I should get going!" You chime, trying to change the mood. You round the living room and grab your things.

He notices the way your back is facing him the entire time. "Where are you going?"

You offer him a small smile but he notices how you won't look him in the eye. "The library."

Once the study group session is over, you overhear two girls talking about the books in the library. "Actually I noticed the same thing too. A lot of the books are checked out by his name.”

"What was it again?"

"I don't remember but I think it’s kinda romantic.”

Later that night, as you’re eating dinner with Uruame, you learn that she and Sukuna were in a situationship. They had been hooking up for a couple of weeks now and wanted to test the waters a bit before confirming anything. You muster up a smile and wish them the best. Truly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For the next couple of days, something inside your core shook. Nothing you ate sat right in your stomach; it was nonsense really. You both really never had any deeper relationship than a few conversations sprinkled in the past three years.

Unintentionally, you had buried yourself in work, having a backlog of tasks and assignments to juggle alongside your job. Sukuna came by a couple of times a week at the apartment and sometimes it was Uruame who would be gone for a few days at his frat house. A few acknowledged nods whenever you were in the living area before he disappeared into Uruame’s room, that was all. You made sure to keep it minimal.

Whenever you heard the door close to Uruame’s room with a few laughs and a belt hitting the floor, you always made sure to leave the unit as quickly as possible. You always timed when your shift ended and when he would leave the house; it was for the best.

Sometimes you weren’t so lucky. Hearing the roar of the engine outside your apartment was something you’ve come accustomed to at this point. Sometimes Sukuna drops Uruame off when you leave for your work shift, who's leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips. As you acknowledge him, he slips the cigarette butt out of his mouth and onto the floor to stomp it out, before giving you a curt nod back. His eyes follow you as he watches you get into the car.

Or when you accidentally come out of the shower with just a towel around you just as Sukuna walks in. Who immediately apologizes and covers his eyes and turns around for invading your privacy.

But you like to think you’ve done a good job of giving Uruame and Sukuna the privacy they need. It’s the least you can do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When Sukuna gets a late night text from Uruame to come over, he sneaks in quietly, unlocking the door from the key that you told him about under the doormat, to which he had practically scolded you for how easy and cliche it was for anyone to discover. He’d have to find a better spot next time.

Quietly removing his shoes, Sukuna makes his way through the house. Then he sees you knocked out on the couch, laptop on the verge of falling off your lap. He huffs out a low chuckle as the man rounds the couch to close the laptop, putting it away, and grabbing the throw blanket to keep you warm. Once satisfied, he looks at you before kneeling down and moving some hair out of your face.

“Don’t work too hard, hmm?” he tells you. He’s there and gone before the sun even rises.

Sukuna could never seem to catch your eye wherever he’s over at your place, he notices. You’re either in your room, or running an errand right when he arrives, or over at Yuta’s place studying. But that’s okay, because sometimes if he concentrates enough, it’s moments like these that he likes.

Sukuna can smell whatever you're baking as you hum in the kitchen from Uruame’s room. He wonders what it’d taste like. What you look like. Were you hopping around dancing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand? Were you covered in flour when he heard you scream as you burned and messed up the measurements for the brownies you were making for your co-workers?

And when he leaves your apartment for the week, passing by the island in the kitchen, he sees a note that reads “feel free to take some” with a smile-y face scribbled on it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The apartment has become more lively lately as the first round of midterms for the semester are coming around. You, Maki, Toge, Yuta, and Panda are supposed to be studying for the upcoming test for your class but somehow the monopoly game ended up on the table and you’re in jail for the eighth time.

"No deal," Toge tells you.

"What!?" You complain. "I'm literally giving you the last Railroad to make a complete set."

"Yea, and why would I exchange The Boardwalk and give you a complete set. It’s totally unfair."

The other bystanders grumble out agreements and you hate how they're on Toge’s side when they were the ones who encouraged you to make the deal in the first place.

Sukuna is leaning against the door that separates you and him, trying to get even the smallest detail of what's going on on the other side. Uruame was asleep and he was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, but when he heard your voice along with your friends, he froze.

And now he's listening to you angrily yell and try to miserably seal a deal that he, unfortunately, also doesn't agree on. It's the worst thing Sukuna’s ever heard and he's trying his best to stifle the rumbling in his throat. Oh God, you were so bad at this.

"You know," Toge deadpans, “Why don’t you just admit that you’re just threatened by me."

"Oh please," you bite back. "When have I ever felt threatened by you?"

"What are you talking about?" he flabbergasts. "If I gave you The Boardwalk you'd max out the hotel immediately and you'd win the game."

"Which is only two spots!” Your fingers emphasize the number two. “You have four!"

"Which I always land on!" He leans forward on the table, not backing down. “Do you know how unlucky I have to be to always land on them?”

"What if she gave you fifteen percent of the revenue as part of the deal?"

Everyone jumps at the voice, startled. He’s done this many times, and yet he always catches you off guard. You stand up right to turn to look at him.

"Oh, I thought you already left."

Maki watches you, flicks her eyes towards the pink haired man before silently reorganizing her cards.

"Overslept," Sukuna tells you nonchalantly. He nods towards Toge. "What do you think of that deal?"

Toge can barely muster out a nod as Sukuna explains to him the terms and conditions. All you can do is look at him. Perhaps what Toji said to you in secrecy was true. It did look like he was going through a rough time at home. Toji didn’t delve too much into it, wanting to respect Sukuna’s privacy. All you knew was the one sentence that stuck with you, “He may not look like it, but family means a lot to him.”

He did seem a bit softer around the edges now. The tattoos that were littered over his body didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. His eyes, though not evident unless you look closely like you are now, have eye bags under them. His eyes flicker to you as he says, “That sounds good to you?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. “Um… what? Sorry.”

Maki couldn’t help but smirk down at her lap.

Sukuna leans one arm on the back of the sofa, the other pointing at the board game. He’s so close that you feel the heat radiating off of him. The proximity makes you stiffen. “Toge’s gonna trade The Boardwalk with your Railroad as long as you give him twenty percent of the money anytime someone lands on it. I raised the profit for him to accept, that okay? You’ll still be able to keep a majority of the money anyways, especially with the other cards you have.”

You highly doubt Toge accepted it because of the terms and not because he was Sukuna himself. You only nod.

He nods back and pushes himself off the couch, groaning as he stretches his arms up before making his way to the door but not before saying goodbye to everyone. You walk him to the front door to see him out as he tells you “hope you win” before closing the door behind him.

You do win that night. By a landslide.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Would it be weird?” You’re laying on Maki’s bed, head hanging off the end as you wait for her to freshen up for your hang out today. “To…you know…”

Maki laughs from the other end of the room, throwing the jacket she’s finally settled on towards you. You catch it without hesitation. “Invite your roommate’s situationship?”

“They’re just taking their time,” you try to defend them once again.

“After three months?” You move over a bit as Maki settles in beside you. “Look, I think inviting him would complicate whatever you already feel about him. You already know what I’m going to tell you: do whatever you wanna do; but just think about what I’ve told you.”

Maki gives you a look when Sukuna invites himself in without even knocking, putting the spare key in his pocket and greeting everyone. You shoot her a look back.

Uruame greets the pink haired man before you can even reach the entrance. “You made it!” And gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Toge reaches for the snack bowl. Panda suddenly chokes on his popcorn and Maki takes a big gulp from her drink.

Sukuna’s line of sight goes straight to you, offering a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind, Uruame invited me.” He holds up a small gift bag, almost like a peace offering.

You finally move from the couch to grab it. “Not at all.”

Everyone has settled in, given with the help of a few mixed drinks Maki and Panda made. Uruame and Toge were in a much heated argument that has gone off course that started with toilet paper and has now changed into cereal and milk.

Taking the chance while everyone’s preoccupied, you head towards the kitchen to get the cake ready. You take a sip from your cup as you’re struggling to find both the candles and lighter. A hand comes up behind your back as you feel someone brush up against you to open the cabinet above you.

“Here you go.” Sukuna sets down the box of almost empty candles on the counter.

“Thanks,” you tell him, almost amazed that he knew where it was.

He shrugs. “Saw it here when I was cooking for Uruame.” Then gestures toward the plastic cup. “Didn’t think you were a drinker.”

You open the box and start putting the candles around the cake. “Never said I wasn’t. Just always seemed to find myself in situations where I didn’t want to.”

He huffs at that, tilting his cup.

You laugh, picking up your own to tap it against his before taking a drink together.

Sukuna watches you take a sip before finally trying his own. He could get used to this side of you.

You get back to putting the candles around the cake, putting six mix-matched colors around the border. When he sees you frantically searching for a light, Sukuna reaches into the front pockets of his jeans, flicks his cigarette lighter open and lights all the candles with ease, before putting it back.

And when the lights are turned low and everyone sings happy birthday, Sukuna wonders what you wished for as you blow out the candle. He wonders if you liked the gift he got you. Wonders if he’ll have other birthday celebrations with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The rest of the year goes on like that. Balancing school with the internship while hosting study sessions either at your apartment, the school library or at your friend’s place. You go with the entire group to help cheer on Yuta at the rugby games, sometimes cheering on Sukuna and Toji as well.

A call erupts from your phone; unknown number. You answer it, “Hello?”

“Yn?”

His voice makes your heart skip a beat. After all, you guys don’t really talk. Not like this anyways. “What’s wrong?” You sit up in bed, removing the phone to check the time.

2:03 a.m.

The phone returns to your ear. “It’s…fuck,” you hear shuffling before a disgrunted groan. “It’s Uruame. I don’t know what’s up with her today. She can usually hold her own but she's out like, bad.”

You’re already out of bed and grabbing the keys. “I’ll come as quickly as I can. Your house right?”

He huffs a hum. “Thank you and I’m sorry.”

Pulling up to the curb of the house, you barely put the car in park as you rush out of it and meet Sukuna and your roommate on the lawn. “What’s wrong? How is she?”

The pinked haired man looks to his side, where Uruame is hanging lifeless on his shoulder. “Threw up twice so far, probably will throw up again.”

You curse under your breath as you go around to the other side to help relieve some of the weight. He brushes you off. “It’s okay, you can just open up the back of the car.”

Once having arranged the blanket you brought on the backseats, you help Sukuna put your roommate in as easy and comfortable as possible. All you guys can do is stare at her in silence.

He breaks it first. “Make sure you change her out of those clothes and have her sleep on her side with the trash next to her. And water, ones with electrolytes would be even better if you can,” he adds at the end.

You nod to everything he’s saying. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’ll stay up tonight to keep watch of her, yea?”

“Yea,” it’s the first time you’ve seen him rub his neck. “That’ll probably be good. And uh… sorry about this again. I would have driven her myself but I drinked a bit and didn’t want to risk it.”

You rock back and forth on your heels. You wanted to close the gap, to reassure him. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

And then Sukuna’s shoulder slumps, looks up at the night sky as he buffs out an air before looking back down at you, his face softening. Hearing that from you, Sukuna can’t help but ruffle your hair. He holds it there before letting it run down the rest of your arm, his hand barely a touch of a whisper against yours before he says, “Get home safe,” and turns around walking away. Shoving his clenched hand into his pockets.

You put your hand onto the place he just touched, still feeling the heat from his palms. You hate how you know it’s something you’ll remember for the next couple of days.

Sukuna has his eyes trained to his phone, reacting to every vibration and every notification. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up. You aren't obligated to update him at all. He's half listening to Mahito’s conversation when he receives a message.

You: Got home safe.

And he stares at it for a long time.

“Careful there,” Shui joins him on the backyard patio and offers him a cigarette, “you might burn a hole into your phone.

Sukuna waves it off. "I dont smoke anymore."

Shui’s eyes are still stuck on Sukuna’s phone before Sukuna quickly turns off the screen, which causes the senior to raise a brow at the man before putting the box back into his pocket. "Huh…”

“What?” The junior says almost begrudgingly.

Shui only shakes his head. “Nothing… just curious when you started caring about your health."

He remains silent. A ping! gets both of their attention but Sukuna swipes the notification away quickly but Shui caught it.

You: Thank you again. Have a good night :)

"Oh." Shui says. "It's like that.”

Sukuna ignores his upperclassmen and looks up to the sky in silence, teeth grinding.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you settle into the bed in Uruame’s room, she mumbles, “I think I’m in love with Sukuna.” You stop whatever you’re doing, frozen, wishing you could freeze time itself right now. This last thing you never wanted to hear from her. You had promised yourself you’d be happy for her if it ever came to this very moment.

“I was too much of a pussy to tell him tonight, which is why…” she burps and you immediately move the trash closer to her. And the next thing you know, she’s asleep and you’re darting out of the room, out the apartment, and rushing back to the library to check one thing.

Your body automatically moves to that aisle, the very same one you saw Sukuna kiss that girl two years ago. You push that thought away as you pull a random book off the shelf and flip to the inside of the book cover. You’ve always had an inkling of what was in the books after you caught the two girls talking sophomore year. You never checked it because you didn’t want to confirm what you already knew. Didn’t want to give yourself hope; wanted to deny yourself the reality because it’d just complicate things.

There, on the book checkout log, written in all caps, reads Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Monday.

You pick up another book, this time at the very bottom. Again, it reads, Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Wednesday.

You pick another one. Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Thursday.

Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen.

And it’s hard to keep your breath steady as the books lay there telling a story. One you don’t want to read, one you don’t want to finish. He had checked out all the books in the aisle you often worked in. On all the days where you had a shift. On the dates even after you resigned from the job.

It's the first time you break down into tears.

Finally back at the apartment, you get into the covers with Uruame, who’s sober enough to take you in her arms. “What’s wrong?” She rubs your back.

You shake your head and bury your head into her chest. “Nothing.” Even that word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Before you know it, Sukuna’s birthday comes around and Uruame has invited you to tag along. Afterall, it was only common courtesy to show up since he came to yours. That didn’t mean you weren’t dreading this night, especially not when your roommate had confided in you that tonight was the night she was going to make it official with Sukuna. So you’re here as Uruame’s emotional support, it’s the least you could do.

“Wish me luck,” she told you, squeezing you into a hug as you both went different ways at the party. You lost her quickly in the sea of people as you made your way to Maki and Toge.

Maki’s dipping her toe in the pool while Toge is floating next to her. Their hair dripping, evident of having already swum before you arrived. You join them.

“Ten dollars she’ll back down like last time,” Maki teases you, nudging your side with a wide knowing smirk.

“Hey,” your voice stern. “Leave her be.”

Toge swims over to you. “What? She’s backed down like, five other times.”

“Be nice.” Your feet kick water his way, he dodges easily. “I think she’s serious about it now.”

“Yea and Sukuna had to call you to pick her drunk ass self up.”

Maki dismisses the comment with a wave of her hand. “And you’re okay with that? With her making it exclusive with Sukuna and everything.”

You shrug, looking into the pool water, focusing on the bracelet he had given you for your birthday. “It’s not about me being okay with it, it’s about me being supportive and happy for her.”

Maki hums. “Speaking of, have you said happy birthday to the birthday boy yet?”

You shake your head, thankful for the quick conversation change. “Nope. Didn’t see him when I walked in. I’ll do it later.”

Toge snorts before diving back into the water. The night continues on like this, with Yuta joining after finally being able to get away from the guys. All while this is happening, you can’t help but constantly scan the lawn and house in hopes of catching those eyes. You keep telling yourself it’s Uruame’s you’re trying to keep watch of but your heart knows otherwise.

You’re on your way back from the bathroom, heading back to the poolside when someone taps your shoulder.

You turn and it's the man of the hour.

The smile begins to grow on your face before you even know it. "I was beginning to worry if I'd get to see the birthday boy," you tease him a bit.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at that. "'m sorry. Being the host and birthday boy is not for the weak.

As Maki, Toge, and Yuta get out of the pool to dry themselves to join you both, a group of frat boys head your way. Mahito at the front, holding a tray of shots. “You guys wanna take a shot for the birthday boy?” His smile on his face gives you chills, and you haven’t even gone in the water.

Before you know it, everyone has a shot in their hand. Everyone besides you. Mahito notices this and nudges the glass into your hand. Sukuna scowls at this and brushes his hand off as a warning. “She doesn’t want a drink.”

“It’s okay,” you offer a small smile to your friend before timidly taking it. “It’s for Sukuna, right?”

Mahito throws a smile you don’t catch to Sukuna before stepping closer and raising his glass, “The one and only.”

Everyone incoherently says cheers before downing the shot. As you bring the glass to your mouth, you wince at the burning sensation. Mahito takes the opportunity to begin pouring you another shot. A tattooed hand covers yours before it can reach your lips. Just as smoothly, Sukuna somehow takes the glass out of your hand and downs it just as quickly before giving a cold stare at Mahito. “What did I just tell you?”

Mahito only laughs. “What? It’s just for fun, it’s your birthday.”

“Yea, so fuck off.”

You’re all just standing there timidly, frozen, unsure of what to do. Afraid to make one small move in the tense atmosphere. You watch as Mahito raises a hand in surrender before turning around and leaving.

Sukuna turns to your group before sighing, “Sorry about that. Mahito’s… just ignore him. Don’t think too much about it.”

You give him a reassuring smile when he lingers on you. “Alright.” You rock on your heels. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he says almost sheepishly and you want to tease him.

“Actually-” You rummage through your pockets, wondering where the keychain was when Toji hollers at him. You both look at the man and he freezes, realizing he’s interrupting a moment again. You laugh and wave Sukuna off, “Go.”

“You sure?” he’s already walking away backwards, trying to read your face for an absolute answer.

You nod your head enthusiastically before Sukuna turns back and yells back at Toji, nearly tackling him down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the hours go by, you aren’t ever able to reconnect with the birthday boy. There were fleeting moments whenever you both caught each other's eyes from across the room. Moments where you are both so close to closing the gap, your hand in your pocket for the keychain you want to give him before you’re both pulled away in different directions.

The moment you are able to get away from your friend croup and the entire crowd, you stumble upon your roommate in a corner on the verge of blacking out. You immediately rush over, gently tapping her. When she doesn’t respond in the first few taps, you start to panic.

As her head falls into your hand and you feel her wet saliva coating it, she mumbles out your name. Her eyes are unfocused, darting everywhere, not quite focusing on one thing. You hate that you know this is a sign that whatever Uruame planned didn’t go accordingly. You curse under your breath.

You repeat her name over and over again. “Do you want some water?” you ask quickly, trying to squeeze in as many questions and information in the small time window before she’s unconscious again.

The moment she nods, you pull her into a lounge chair nowhere near the pool and frantically make your way inside the house. You’re scrambling around the kitchen before you bump into the man of the hour.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he teases, grabbing onto your hands to steady yourself.

You look up at him and his smile immediately drops.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Getting out of his grip, you sigh, pinching the space between the eyes. “It’s Uruame again. She’s literally on the verge of blacking out.”

“Again?”

Turning your head to your side, you look outside to make sure she somehow hasn’t moved. “What did you say to her?”

Sukuna cranes his head down, trying to catch your eyes, hand barely twitching as his side.. “Nothing that would have caused her to be like this again.” He calls out your name. “Really, what is this about?”

If he truly didn’t know why Uruame was like this, then who did? You wouldn’t entertain the thought. Wouldn’t allow yourself to. You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I was looking for some water bottles and it’s- I think it’s time for us to go home.”

As reluctant as he was, the tall man can only nod. “At least let me help.”

You shake your head, hands moving in disapproval. “No, I can’t allow that. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind”

And so you’re walking side by side with the pinked harried man as you take him to Uruame. All you both can do is look down at your roommate and sigh. “Lemme go get her stuff. Try to make her drink some water, okay?”

You hum. Just as you’re finished giving some water to Uruame, Mahito calls out your name. Before you can even fully turn to him, he wraps a heavy arm around your shoulders, making you freeze. Goosebumps immediately forming. “Let us be friends, yea? I feel like we were never properly introduced by the Sukuna all these years.”

“I’m sure it’s because it wasn’t necessary.”

Mahito cuts out a quick laugh, raising a brow to his friends. "I had an interesting talk with Uruame about it earlier tonight about you and Sukuna."

You’re trying to halt your steps at that. “Was it you?”

He laughs and that’s when you realise how much closer you’re walking along the edge of the pool. “Please, no.” The grip he has on you is deathening. “No, no, no!”

Sukuna stops rummaging around the pile of bags when he hears your distressed voice on the opposite side of the pool. “Mahito stop it!”

“I have to test one thing first,” he tells himself as he pushes you into the water.

As Sukuna watches you fall in, the sounds of laughs, cheers, and clapping erupt around him and he’s taken back to freshman year all over again. The way you had told him you couldn't swim when he tried too hard to invite you to a party as a means to talk to you more. The way your eyes got so big and filled with worry.

Sukuna doesn’t care how many people he has to push out of his way before he’s jumping in right after you. He’s not taking any chances on seeing if you resurfaced. As he swam in the water, he saw the way you were struggling, clawing at the water for anything to grasp onto.

When you nearly rip his skin off from grabbing him, Sukuna emerges from the water, holding you close to him. He cradles your head as he searches for you, “It’s okay. I’m here, just breathe. Breathe.”

The crowd slows to a murmur before it’s completely silent as they watch Sukuna carry you out of the pool, face hidden in his neck. Toji is standing there, breathless, having run from upstairs of the house to see what the commotion was. He stalks to the nearest person and tears their phone out of their hand and into the water. “Anybody else want to be next?”

Mahito shoves past Toji, displaying his best grin. “It was just a joke, Sukuna. No need to be so fucking serious.”

Sukuna walks past him, not sparing his president a single glance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna gently sets you down on his bed, not caring for one moment about it getting wet. He’s frantically moving around the room, almost as if he were trying to collect his thoughts before handing you a towel and turning away to look through his drawers. You’re trying to dry yourself before he tells you, “Hands up.”

You listen immediately and feel him pull your shirt off and replace with a new one. You know this scent, smell it all the time whenever he’s over at the apartment. You look down but you already know it’s his shirt you have on.

You’re still shaking, trembling even. Where’s Uruame? The last time you saw her, she was drunk and making a scene. You only had one drink, but would you even have the capacity to drive you both home? Especially in the state you were in? Maybe-

He calls your name. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Sukuna’s voice is soft but stern. He crouches down to be eye level with you, combing your wet strands away from your face. “Listen to me carefully, okay?”

You look at him and his eyes are dark; serious. Not a hint of that glint and playfulness he usually has. You swallow.

“Use my towel and dry up. I found some of Uruame’s sweats in my drawer, so you can change and put those on.”

As much as that statement hurts, you need to focus. More than ever. Everything was too hectic. You can only nod.

“Okay, okay,” he runs a hand through his still wet hair. “Toji’ll help you guys leave the party, I can’t do much right now. You didn’t drink right?”

You can barely shake your head.

He curses. “Then he'll also get you guys a cab to go home, got that? Make sure Uruame lies on her side when she sleeps. And put the trash can beside her in case she throws up.”

Why was this happening? What had Sukuna done? What had Majito done? You didn’t really understand what was happening. One moment you were having the time of your life and the next you were pushed into the water.

You’re pulled back into reality when he grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You can barely hum out an acknowledgement before a tear slips from your eye, and he’s there to catch it. His thumb tracing over the contours of your cheek. The moment is fleeting as he leaves the room. There, he stops, barely looking over his shoulder before saying “I’m sorry” and the door clothes behind him. His warmth you felt on your face lingers a little longer than he ever has.

And it’s moments like these where you wished freshman year never happened. That you never knew the man called Sukuna Ryomen. All you can do is curl up into yourself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sukuna, listen-” Toji approaches the man of the hour after he helps you take Uruame home. But all the man does is brush past him in quiet fury.

All Sukuna can think about as he stalks to him is the look of terror painted in your face as you wer shoved into the water. They way you had begged Mahito to not do it, your voice laced with fear. The way your body went from fighting with the water to being limp within seconds.

Most importantly, he remembers the sneer on Mahito’s face. The way his eyes lit up in sadistic joy. The way his group of friends laughed with him. The way everyone laughed along with them.

Sensing the birthday boy, Mahito turns with that lopsided grin.

Sukuna punches him in the face before letting him have the first word, causing Mahito to stumble a bit. Before he can gain his footing, Sukuna grabs him by the collar of his shirt and punches him again.

Heterochromia eyes look up at him in shock then humor as he stays seated on the ground, nursing his bruising cheek. Everyone who’s watching already knows how ugly the bruise will be tomorrow.

Tattooed hands grab him by the collar of his shirt again, lifting Mahito up to his height. “I told you not fuck things up.”

The grey-blue haired man turns his head to spit out the blood accumulating in his mouth, offering Sukuna a blood coated smile. “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Fun?” Sukuna spits out, bringing Mahito’s face closer to his. “She doesn’t know how to swim, you could’ve killed her.”

“Well, lucky that her knight and shining armour came to the rescue just in time.”

Sukuna growls and goes for another punch.

But before he can do more damage, Toji shoves them both away. When the red eyed man tries to come at Mahito again, Toji has to use all his strength to push him away again. “Stop it,” he grits out. He turns to look at Mahito. “Both of you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slamming the door to his room, Toji yells at his friend. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Sukuna runs his hands into his now dried hair, not turning around. “He deserved it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

It is only then, with that statement, that Sukuna spins around. “It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter? Because of him, Yn could have died. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

The scar-lipped man looks down at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. You just made things more complicated.”

“I don’t care. Because…”

“Because what!?” Toji finally snaps. “You don’t even know what you want!”

“I want her!” Sukuna professes. And then there’s silence as the words sink in. Toji refuses to speak as he simply watches his friend process those words. Watches as dread follows realization.

In a softer tone, Sukuna continues, “From the moment I saw her, I knew.” He swallows. “I have always wanted her.”

“You don’t mean that,” But when his friend gives Toji that look of resolution, of unwavered certainty, it’s his turn to swallow. “You can’t possibly mean that, you’re with Uruame.”

“I tried! I tried so hard to get her away from me!” Sukuna pulls on his hair and looks to Toji for help. “I just couldn’t stay away from her!”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t do anything!” The pink hair holds up his wrist in agony. “I’m stuck! Jin’s health is deteriorating and father refuses to help because of that woman, so no one can watch over Itadori but me. I can barely make it to my classes in order to take care of him. I’ve been avoiding Uruame because I know she wants more than what I can give her and I can barely stand to be in the same fucking room as Mahito without wanting to strangle him! So tell me Toji, tell me how I’m supposed to push this all on Yn? She doesn’t deserve to be part of this mess, she-”

Toji grabs Sukuna and pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. You know I’ll be here for you. It’ll be okay.”

And then Sukuna breaks down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna’s visits become less and less to the point where he stops coming at all. You try not to think too much about it until Uruame comes back to the apartment slamming the door closed yelling at the top of her lungs about how much of a bitch the pink haired man can be before she gets into a sobbing mess about how polite he was in turning her down even after months of hooking up.

And so you never see him around ever, anywhere. There are occasional times when you see him rushing to class, but that’s about it. His group dwindled smaller and smaller until it was just him and Toji. Most of the time, he was alone. Headphones on. Shoulders a lot heavier. Hair longer and messier. You notice the black and red varsity jacket that he always wore proudly that displayed his fraternity was no longer seen on him. You also weren’t sure if you saw it correctly, but you were sure you saw a cast on his leg one day too.

“Broke his ankle,” Maki says, so nonchalantly that you almost miss it. “Got it stepped on in a qualifying game. Out for the rest of the reason.”

“What?” you stop taking notes and stare at her.

“Heard it from Yuta. Covered his face when he was carried off the field.” She sighs and looks at you. “Luckily no surgery was needed.”

“Yea…” Panda adds. “He’s in some deep shit right now from what the rumors say.”

That only deepens your furrowed brows.

“He punched the president of his fraternity straight through the face in one of the parties last week." Panda smirks. "Wished I was there to witness it."

Your pencil stops. That was the night you fell into the pool.

"He got kicked out," Toge states matter of factly.

Panda hums. "Makes sense. Supposedly he and the president never got along in the first place. Sukuna wanted to run for president and was shot down at any chance he got. They were always disagreeing on things. Pretty sure the fight was the perfect excuse for the president to use against Sukuna to kick him out."

“Do you know why?” you finally have the courage to muster out, afraid your voice would betray your emotion if your face wasn’t already.

Maki shrugs. “Not really. Yuta just told me the president had whispered something into his ear and the next thing he knew, he saw Sukuna punch Mahito in the face. Even Toji struggled to get the man off. Toji of all people. Can you believe that?”

Whatever concentration you have has dissipated. None of this made sense. Sure he looked like a rough person but you've seen him. Seen the way he put leftovers in the fridge and wrote, “feel free to take some, made too much,” on a hello kitty sticky note whenever he cooked for him and Uruame when you came home past midnight. Who, even after two weeks of you having eaten it, asks how you liked it. Sukuna, who as Uruame recounted for you, had helped you into your room when you stumbled into the apartment a little bit past tipsy and that you should be grateful towards him. Sukuna, who, after a rugby game and after putting down Uruame from a tight embrace, greets and bows to you and your friend group politely. Not leaving a single one out.

It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t the Sukuna you knew, was it? Then again, you guys were barely friends. Not even considered acquaintances. Just fleeting moments and encounters sprinkled across three years.

That was the last anyone ever saw Sukuna for the last half of the semester of junior year. Not even Toji. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell ya." He answers you after weeks of persistence before quickly walking away from you. Expelled. Dropped out. That was what you hear around campus.

As rapid as the fire was, it dissipated just as quickly. A whisper of a ghost. Sukuna who? No one knew of that person. The rugby team spoke about him as a martyr. The fraternity scorned it out of existence.

The only recorded memory was his name scorched in those books.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You tap your feet to the ticking of the clock, hoping that it'll help fasten up the pace at the coffee shop. You were angry at yourself for losing a bet with Toge and now you are going to be fetching the group coffee in the morning for the next month.

"I can help the next person here!" A worker calls, frantically trying to set up the cashier station. Quickly wiping off washed hands, he asks, "Sorry ‘bout the wait, what can I get you?"

"Sukuna?"

He looks up from his hat, frozen in place by who’s in front of him. "Yn?"

Sukuna sees the way you look him up and down and he’s almost embarrassed. "I didn't know you worked here. Um, three iced Americans please, if you would."

He shrugs, punching in the order. "I actually work in the back. Had to open up this cash register to help with the rush hour. Medium size?"

You can only nod as you continue to stare at him. He had a cap on but from the tips poking out, you can tell his pink hair has faded to a warm salmon color, a whisper of the past he’s trying to forget, or correct. You purse your lips and look at him. Really look at him. It's been almost six months since you've seen him. His arms look a little stronger. That smile, though a little awkward right now, is just a little softer. His eyes are just as you remember. You pass him your card.

He pushes it back, shaking his head. "It's okay. It's on me."

"No,” you huff, trying to smile but failing. “I couldn’t-"

And then he's yelling out the order to the back and passing the receipt. "It was nice seeing you again, Yn." And the next person is already approaching his register.

For some reason, you feel guilty for not telling Uruame about running into Sukuna. In fact, you don’t tell her at all. Or anyone, really. Your secret to keep, your secret to tell.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Somehow, it slowly became a routine for the both of you. Oftentimes, you’re surprised no one in your friend group has caught on to you, sometimes purposely losing the monthly bet just to catch Sukuna at the cafe.

It’s harmless, you often told yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong, per say. It had taken you a few weeks to get Sukuna’s work hours right, but when you did, even he couldn’t help but have his eyes drawn to the door whenever the chime rang through the cafe.

You crouch in front of the little boy, offering him a soft smile with a tilt of your head. "I like your pink beanie."

Itadori beams in his seat. "Thank you! Me too!" Then he leans in closer and you can't help but reciprocate. "Grandpa says I can't dye my hair pink like Uncle Sukuna or else he’d kill me so Uncle Sukuna bought me a pink beanie instead."

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, that's too bad."

"It's okay! He told me secretly that when I move in with him he'll dye my hair the same color!" He closes his eyes with satisfaction.

You offer him a high five and he takes it.

Sukuna scoffs teasingly and you turn at the noise. He's drying off a mug as you walk up to the counter, pulling up a seat. "Don't encourage his behavior. I don’t want him to turn out like me."

You give him a lopsided grin and he nearly drops the ceramic object. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes," he looks past you, his eyes softening. Something you haven't seen often now. "I want him to be better than me.”

You toy with the sugar packets. “I think you’re a good role model in his life.”

Sukuna finally sets the mug down, shaking his head. “What good am I? Some college drop-out working at some deadbeat job?”

“You’re just taking a break right now to focus on your family. You’re doing it for him.”

The barista puts his hands on the edge of the counter, flexing it, looking once more at Itadori, who gives him a big smile before Sukuna’s line of sight is back on you. “You don’t understand. I’m not a good person.”

“You are,” you tell him firmly.

“I’m not, just look at me.” His voice is full of disdain and poisonous venom.

“All I see is you, Sukuna,” your voice a soft whisper.

He frowns at that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Maki flicks her gaze your way before quickly looking away and at Toge instead, bulging out her eyes out as if sending him a message. Toge raises both his eyebrows and jerks his head to Panda, who is sitting besides you, sipping his milkshake. Panda, shaking his head in refusal, silenting slices his neck in the air with his finger before pointing it at the platinum blonde boy.

Toge frowns and resorts to stomping on Maki's feet, to whom yelps and bangs her knee on the table. It is only then that you stop staring at your phone and look up at them quizzically.

Maki throws her fist in the air as a silent threat to Toge before putting on a smile to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?” you tell them curtly.

“Well I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you haven’t even noticed the fries that Panda has been stealing or the fact that you’ve been staring at your phone as if- OW!” Toge’s knee jerks up to hit the table as Maki shoots him a death glare.

“You haven’t been engaging with us at all today,” Maki clarifies.

It was true, but you couldn’t help it. After that conversation with Sukuna, he wasn’t messaging you as much nor was he in the cafe whenever you stopped by. You didn’t think you had done anything that day to set him off. Actually, you were entitled to anything. But instead, all you can muster is, “I’m okay, really. Just a busy day at my internship, you know how it is.”

As Panda nods in fake understanding, milkshake forgotten as he makes eye contact with the other two.

Given the signal, Maki reaches over the table to touch your hand. “We know.”

You freeze at that. “See? So there’s nothing-”

The twin shakes her head. “No, we know.”

“I don’t- I-”

Panda finally speaks up. “It’s okay.”

This time it’s Toge who steals one of your remaining fries. “Do you know how often you were smiling at your phone? How much happier you were suddenly? Not to mention, how often you were losing the bets when we all know how good you are at winning them?”

You open your mouth to deny those claims but Panda steps in again nonchalantly.

“Plus, you left your phone open when you went to use the bathroom two weeks ago at Yuta’s apartment. We all saw the notification from him.”

All you can do is stare at them in silence. Afraid to speak. Afraid to understand all of this. They look at you in return, just watching. Not a single one is pressuring you. Finally, “What do I do guys?”

“That’s for you to finally decide on. What you both decide on,” Maki tells you.

Toge chimes in, “What we’re gonna do is order another milkshake and fries.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna is sweeping up the floor when he hears the sharp chime of the door. “We’re closed-”

And then he looks up, because he can hear the heavy breathing and his ears tell him all that he needs to know before even looking up. He stops sweeping. “What are you doing here?”

“Have I upset you?” you can barely breathe and you’re not quite sure if it’s from the running or the adrenaline coursing through your body from spontaneously showing up like this.

Sukuna leans the broom against a chair and stuffs his hand into his pockets. “No?”

His body language ticks something off inside of you. “Then can you explain why you have been avoiding me? Whenever I come into the cafe, I never seem to catch you when you’re in. I’m sorry if I offended you the other day, I didn’t mean to.”

The tattooed man looks up at the ceiling for a long time. So long in fact that you’re about to repeat what you’ve just said again, a hundred times if you needed to, until he says, “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?!” you finally tell him, trying your hardest to catch his eyes.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What you don’t understand,” you step closer to him, voice catching, “is that I don’t know my own heart anymore. I don’t even know how to name what I'm feeling. I thought we were friends, and yet--”

Sukuna physically flinches. “We can’t be friends.”

Your brows furrow, getting further and further from ever truly understanding what’s going on in his brain, what’s going on with him. You can’t even comprehend what he’s saying. “What?”

“Because,” he finally says, voice shaking, “I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be just friends.” He looks up at you and his eyes are so full with pain and longing it actually takes your breath away. “I love you.”

He breaks.

His voice. His face. His heart.

He can’t meet your eyes, almost shameful. “I love you,” he says, his words harsh and soft and vulnerable all at once. “But this isn’t how I wanted it to be.”

“Sukuna-”

He trembles at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finally, finally looking at you. “Please, leave. I can’t bear it anymore.”

And then you’re digging into your pockets, fishing out the worn out baby tiger keychain from years of carrying it. The same keychain you had mistakenly taken with your belongings when you rushed out of his dorm room after the kiss. The constant and only reminder that it had happened, that it wasn’t somehow a mistake. Amongst the warm metal, the keychain trembles in your hand as you hold it out to him.

“I’ve carried it all this time,” you tell him softly. “I meant to, somehow, give it to you earlier, but there was never a proper moment. But I think now is a good time to let it go.”

Sukuna takes it into his hands, face unreadable as he turns it over in his palms.

It was you.

The lucky charm, a matching keychain set Sukuna bought for Itadori when he was born. He still can remember the devastated look his nephew gave Sukuna when he broke the news of losing his pair.

It was the same one he spent all these years looking for; turning over each furniture in the house and driving Toji up the wall because he refused to play in any rugby game, be in any conference, or take any test without it. He thought he had lost it but all along it was you who had it. Yes… all along it was you.

He looks up and he finds that your eyes are searching his just as his are to yours. The keychain somehow burning in his palms with every passing second.

Sukuna can feel lit. He can feel you slipping away as you turn away from him and start to walk away. His voice catches in his throat and he has to swallow twice before finally saying, “I want you.” You stop. “From the moment I saw you at orientation, I have always wanted you.”

“From the moment I kissed you, I was yours. You were never going to be just an easy hook-up but I was afraid of hurting you. I’m not a good person.” He wants you to turn around, but Sukuna knows he doesn’t deserve that from you. Not after all that he’s put you through. "You are my oxygen. When I'm with you, it's like a breath of fresh air. When I’m not near you, I can't breathe without you.

“I do,” you state simply, words hanging on by a thread, “I do think of you. All the time. I wanted to forget but I couldn't.”

You finally turn around to look at him. “You stole my first kiss, and my heart. These past three years I tried to forget these feelings, forget everything, ashamed because I thought I was the only one.

“Never.”

Your entire body is trembling as you turn in resolution. “Don’t. Don’t give me hope. I can’t- we can’t. Uruame-”

“I know.” Boldly, he closes the distance between you and cups your face. In a whisper, “I know. I’ll figure something out, we'll make it work. I promise you that.”

“Sukuna,” you cry out, hand on his wrists. Unsure, just like him. You want to shake your head but his hands stop you from doing so, eyes never leaving yours. You’re unsure about all of this and you think he is too but then soft lips reach yours.

The kiss is tentative, wary, hesitant and when you open up to him and reciprocate, you hear a sigh leave his entire body. Sukuna’s grip on your face tightens as if he doesn’t want to let this moment go; as if he didn’t hold you tight enough you’d disappear. The kiss, started shy and uncertain, becomes bold and unyielding.

You pull him just as close. Lips following a steady rhythm, almost like a song written on a track record you had forgotten all these years. With every passing moment, the kiss deepens, as if it were trying to make up for all the longing stares and stolen touches, of unvoiced desires and quiet understanding.

Sukuna savors every breath and taste and commits it to memory. His hand makes it to the bottom of your shirt, finger slipping under to simply stay there on your abdomen. Something to ground him. His lips are slow and searching, drinking you in one moment and barely there the next.

Before you step back, he pulls you in for one more kiss. He sighs your name as he holds you close. Too soon, he pulls away. He’s breathing hard, and his gaze is still fixed on your mouth.

You attempt a deep breath, but there’s no oxygen in the room. Everything is him. Everything is Sukuna. His fingers clench tight around your waist, holding you in place.

You try to tilt your head so you can fuse his mouth to yours but he takes over the movement, guiding your head to the perfect angle so he can trace his tongue over your lips.

Every little insignificance and coincidences, all the struggles and problems fade to nothing as the both are able to embrace each other.

Sukuna runs a thumb across your cheek before tucking a strand back into place. He sighs your name as he holds you close. “I-”

Your lips are still warm. You feel his lips on every syllable you speak. “I love you, Sukuna.”

He puts his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you too.”

And you know, whatever happens next, you'll both figure it out.

[desperate-gay]

Can u write a Alex Morgan x reader fic where reader is pregnant

My Girls

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

it’s a little childish universe✨

summary: amidst the chaos of her busy schedule, alex is reminded that home is where her heart truly belongs

“And then you remember that Charlie has a half day of school tomorrow, right? I have no idea who is supposed to pick her up with all the media duties I have, and Servando is out of town—”

“Alex, baby, take a breath for me, okay?” You gently cut off her rambling, worried she might explode if she tries to think one more thought.

Your wife inhales deeply, holding the breath for a few seconds before exhaling shakily. Her eyes remain closed as she gives a small nod, signaling that she’s okay.

“I will pick up our daughter after our morning training session tomorrow while you take care of everything else. No need to worry, my love.” You offer her a reassuring smile, running your hands up and down her arms in comfort.

Alex leans into your touch, her forehead falling against your shoulder as she exhales again, this time more steadily. You feel the tension in her body ease just a little, but her hands are still gripping the sides of your shirt like she’s afraid to let go.

“I just—” Her voice is muffled against your hoodie. “I feel like there’s never enough time. I want to be there for everything, but it’s like the moment I figure one thing out, three more problems pop up.”

“I know, love.” You murmur, gently taking her hand in yours. “But you’ll always have me, Charlie, and, soon, this little one by your side.”

You guide her hand to your growing belly, resting it there. At 23 weeks, your bump is undeniable now, and Alex has developed a habit—no, an addiction of touching it at any given moment. It’s become her grounding force, a way to center herself when the chaos of life threatens to overwhelm her.

As if on instinct, her fingers spread over your stomach, her thumb tracing absentminded circles against the fabric of your hoodie. She lets out a soft sigh, and you feel her fully relax against you.

“See? You’re not alone in this.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Alex swallows, her voice quieter now. “I know.”

—

“There’s my Charlie-girl!”

The little girl runs toward you at full speed, her Little Mermaid backpack bouncing on her shoulders. She barrels ahead, leaving her friend behind as she crashes into your front, making you let out a small groan.

“Honey, remember what I told you? You have to be a bit more careful now.” You warn softly, gesturing toward your growing belly.

“I’m sorry, little one.” Charlie says, quickly pressing a sweet kiss to your clothed stomach.

Since the moment you found out you were pregnant, both Alex and Charlie had started calling the baby little one. Your wife and daughter love talking to your belly, insisting that the baby needs to recognize their voices before they enter the world.

“Hi, Mrs. Morgan!” Emma, Charlie’s friend, greets with a bright smile as she finally catches up.

“Hello, Em. How was school today?”

Charlie crosses her arms with a dramatic pout. “How come I didn’t get asked?”

“Because I get to deal with you all day.” You tease, poking at her side playfully. “But it must’ve been fun since it was a half-day!”

“It was! We got to watch movies and build marshmallow towers with toothpicks in class!” Emma exclaims, throwing her hands up in excitement.

“That sounds like so much fun! Maybe soon, we can have another playdate for you two.”

You barely have time to brace yourself before the girls let out joint screams of excitement. You swear one of your eardrums pop at the loud noises.

“My mom’s here! I’ll see you later!” Emma calls out before hurrying off.

Both you and Charlie wave as she leaves. Tthen Charlie quickly interlocks her fingers with yours as you make your way to the awaiting car. Once she’s all buckled up and you’re in the driver’s seat, you begin heading home.

“Now… how was your day at school?”

“Finally!” Charlie huffs, making you laugh as she launches into a full breakdown of her day.

—

“Since Mama is going to be working later today, how about we go have lunch at the beach?” You suggest, scavenging through the fridge and realizing you have the perfect ingredients for a picnic.

“Really?” Charlie exclaims, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Well, of course! We’ll just have to send a picture to mama to make her jealous.” You smirk, wiggling your brows.

“Yay!”

“Should we bring Spots?” You ask, further brightening the smile on Charlie’s face.

Spots is the family’s English Setter. The most lovable, protective, and behaved companion one can ask for. Spots always knows that you’re talking about her, considering the fact that she’s sitting by your feet with her tail wagging side to side along the floor.

“Yes, let’s bring Spots!”

Without hesitation, Charlie hops off the barstool by the counter and scurries off to her room, most likely to grab a sunhat or her favorite stuffed animal to bring along.

Meanwhile, you gather everything you’ll need— food, a picnic blanket, napkins, sunscreen, Spots’ water bowl, and a few of Charlie’s favorite books in case she wants to read while you relax. You pack a container of fresh-cut fruit, sandwiches, crackers, and Charlie’s favorite juice boxes, making sure to grab extra snacks for when she inevitably gets hungry again.

By the time you’re done packing, Charlie comes running back into the kitchen, now in a simple t-shirt and shorts, her sun hat slightly too big for her head. She’s also clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a small elephant she named Ella despite your and Alex’s many objections about making it more original.

“I’m ready!” She announces proudly, adjusting her hat as she grins up at you.

“Perfect. Now let’s head out before the little one gets hangry and kicks again.” You pat your belly for emphasis, making Charlie giggle before placing a small kiss on it.

The drive to the private beach is filled with Charlie’s excited thumping legs against her car seat along with the low hum of Taylor Swift through your speakers. Both you and Charlie are extremely jealous your wife got to meet the woman herself… multiple times.

You smile when you look through the rearview mirror and watch Charlie do her little dance while singing along to the lyrics. Spots sits beside her, looking excitedly out the window and occasionally turning her head to check on Charlie. You simply cannot wait to add another little baby to this amazing family.

Once you arrive, you pick a spot that has some shade along with some sun in case you either get too cold or too hot. The spot overlooks the glistening lake, the waves roll in gently with small white caps along with the cool breeze accompanied with it.

Charlie immediately runs over to your bent form, insisting she’ll set up the blanket so you don’t hurt her baby sibling that is currently doing cartwheels in your stomach. You and Charlie grab opposite ends of the blanket, making it easier to set on the sand with the wind blowing in. Spots remains seated behind you, enjoying the fresh sea breezes.

Charlie plops down immediately while you gently try and sit on the blanket without accidentally falling. The girl across from you again is quick to help, arranging and lining up all the food and drinks in a way that makes perfect sense to her. She places your sandwich right in front of you and hers in front of her.

“Now, we eat!” She declares, handing you a napkin like she’s a butler at a formal event.

“Why thank you, Miss Charlie.” You laugh, tucking the napkin jokingly in your sundress like a bib.

As you both eat, Charlie chatters more about her day at school while occasionally patting the dog. She talks about what movies she watched and how her and Emma stacked as many marshmallows they could before they fell over. You listen, nodding along, occasionally brushing crumbs off her cheek when she gets too excited and forgets to wipe her mouth.

Only a few bites into the second half of her sandwich, Charlie dramatically gasps, causing you to flinch and look around with wide eyes to see if she is ok.

“We gotta send a picture to mama!” Charlie reminds, allowing you to take a breath from the small panic you were in.

“Yes of course.”

Pulling out your phone, Charlie is quick to crawl over to your side and smush her face into yours while Spots’s head rests on your leg. You take a quick selfie of you and Charlie along with the lake in the background and a perfect view of your small picnic.

You send the photo to your wife along with a text saying ‘the beach is nice…but it’s missing one person’.

Alex must have a small break between meetings because your phone almost instantly buzzes with a reply.

My Everything: You guys are evil. I’m stuck here, and you’re having the best food ever with the best view ever. But I love my girls.

You can practically hear the small pout in her voice. You read the message out to Charlie, making her giggle.

“Tell mama we saved her some crackers.”

You quickly type out a message along with a red heart before setting your phone down beside you.

“Do you think little one can hear the waves?” Charlie asks from her spot on the blanket.

“Maybe. I think they can hear a little bit by now.” You glance down at your belly, placing a hand over it thoughtfully.

Charlie scoots closer, resting her head gently against your belly. “Hey, little one. Mommy and I are having a picnic, and I promise we’ll bring you here when you get bigger.”

Your heart melts at the sight, and you almost tear up. You never doubted Charlie’s qualities of being a big sister, but moments like this prove just how much she’s ready.

For a while, the three of you bask in the lake breeze, lying on the blanket and listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing along the shore. Charlie eventually grabs one of the books you brought and begins reading it aloud, her small voice carrying over the wind.

You relax beside her, stretched out on your back, one hand resting protectively over your growing belly while Spots is curled up beside you both.

As the afternoon drifts on, your eyelids grow heavy, signaling that it might be time to head home.

Charlie, usually one to fight against leaving fun places, doesn’t put up much of a fuss. She simply sighs dramatically and begins gathering her things, giving Ella one last squeeze before tucking the stuffed elephant under her arm.

After carefully packing up the picnic supplies and making sure no trash is left behind, you shake out the blanket and fold it up. Spots gives a happy bark as you begin walking back to the car, her tail wagging as she trots alongside Charlie.

Once everything is packed away, you help Charlie into her car seat and settle yourself behind the wheel.

“Can we come back soon?” She asks, her voice hopeful as she yawns, already growing sleepy from the warmth of the sun.

“Of course, sweetheart. Maybe next time mama can come with us.” You smile at her through the rearview mirror.

Charlie grins at that idea, resting her head against the side of her seat. “I think little one liked it, too.”

You chuckle softly, resting a hand on your belly as you glance down for a moment, feeling the slight pressure of the baby’s kicks before starting the car.

—

Alex is trying everything not to panic.

She finally finished all of her conferences and interviews for the day, and the last thing she heard from you was that you were at the beach.

She’s texted you at least five times throughout the day. No response.

Her mind jumps to worst-case scenarios—what if something happened to you? What if you weren’t answering because you couldn’t?

Shaking her head, she grips the steering wheel tighter, pushing those thoughts away.

She just needs to get home.

Alex presses her foot down a little harder on the gas pedal, going a few miles over the speed limit.

She won’t relax until she knows you’re all okay.

Her mind must have completely blacked out because the next thing she knows, she’s pulling into the long driveway of your shared home. She doesn’t bother grabbing anything from the car. Instead, she slams the door shut and sprints toward the front entrance.

She should feel some relief at the sight of your car parked in the driveway and the front door securely locked, but her head is spinning too much to process it.

Her keys slip through her trembling fingers as she fumbles to find the right one. Her breath catches when she finally gets the door open, and she wastes no time rushing inside, calling out both your name and Charlie’s.

Alex’s voice dies in her throat the moment she steps into the living room.

The sight before her makes her heart stop then melt.

There you all lay, curled up on the couch, with you on your back, Charlie and Spots on either side of you. Charlie’s small hand rests protectively over your belly, while Spots’ head is nestled against Charlie’s hand.

The tension in Alex’s body slowly unravels as she takes a minute to breathe, watching her entire world rest peacefully in front of her. With one last deep exhale, she knows she has to wake all three of you—you’ve probably been napping for hours now.

“Baby, Charlie… it’s time to wake up, my loves.” Alex murmurs, brushing your hair to the side and softly rubbing her thumb over your forehead.

“Alex?” Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper as your eyes flutter open.

“Yes, it’s me, baby.” Her voice is warm, full of relief. “You gave me a bit of a scare, you know?”

Her fingers never stop their gentle path over your skin, grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You stretch out as much as you can with the limited space you have before sitting up slightly, forcing Spots’ head to perk up along with Charlie, who sleepily yawns.

“What scared you?” You ask, eyes still closed to keep the bright sunset from scorching your sight.

“You hadn’t answered me for hours, and I started to worry something happened to you both.” Alex mumbles quietly, taking in the relief that you’re okay.

You finally look at her with concerned eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby. After the beach, Charlie and I got so tired and ended up falling asleep after we turned on a movie. I never meant to scare you.”

“All that matters is that you’re okay.”

“Mama? You’re home.” Charlie rubs the sleep from her eyes but remains cuddled into your side.

“I am. I missed you guys.” Alex confesses, planting a kiss on both your heads before giving Spots an affectionate pat.

As you wake up, you start to feel your stomach rumble, realizing you haven’t eaten in hours. You’re positive Charlie must feel the same.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat either?” You laugh at the look your wife gives you after hearing the noises come from your stomach.

“I did text you asking if you wanted me to pick up dinner, but then I ended up rushing home.” Alex gives you a pointed but playful look.

You flash her a guilty smile. “That would be my fault… but do you think we can get Wendy’s? Little one and this one are hungry.” You tap Charlie’s nose, earning a giggle.

“Mmm, maybe. But you gotta give me something first.”

The tone in Alex’s voice is one you’re all too familiar with. Low and teasing.

You smirk, easily tilting your head and wrapping a hand behind hers, pulling her in for a lingering kiss. Alex would deepen it, but she knows better—especially with your daughter still curled up against you.

“Ew!” Charlie exclaims, sticking out her tongue in exaggerated disgust.

Alex pulls back with a chuckle. “Watch it, missy. I’ll get mommy Wendy’s and make you brussels sprouts instead.”

Charlie gasps dramatically, eyes wide as she whips her head toward you. She gestures towards her mouth, zipping and throwing the lock away.

You just laugh, shaking your head. “Looks like we’re getting Wendy’s.”

“Alright, alright. Wendy’s it is.” Alex sighs, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before standing.

Charlie cheers, jumping off the couch to grab her shoes. You stretch, watching her with an amused smile before looking up at Alex, reaching for her hand.

She takes it without hesitation, her thumb tracing over your skin.

“You really scared yourself, didn’t you?”

Alex exhales, her other hand instinctively resting over your stomach. “Yeah. I did.”

“We’re always okay, baby. I promise.” You squeeze her hand gently.

Alex nods, letting herself believe it because right now, with you here, warm and safe, with Charlie giggling over her shoes and Spots wagging her tail at your feet—

Everything is perfect.

[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)

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.

[youreonmymind37]

“Remember when you can over to my house to do ‘chores’ and we fucked all day?”

“Grandma, I was teenager back there.”

“Who is it?” said my Grandma Barbara getting hostile. “Your girlfriends?”

“I don’t have time for dating. I’m studying and hang-around my buddies.”

“Your older sisters? Iris and Randy?”

“Gross,” I said.

Barbara narrows her eyes. “That’s whore! My slutty daughter. Your incestuous mother!”

I didn’t say anything. But, my grandma peeled my gestures and my eyes like an onion.

“You know, in Connecticut, your mother can go to prison just by having sex with you, her son.”

I stared at her.

“Don’t think I have friends in the judiciary system.”

“You won’t.”

“I tried fucked old hairy men at my golf club. And, the pool boy. And, the busboys. And, one time I was in Vegas and a gigolo screwed me….”

My Grandma Barbara surrounded me. Her hand went under my shirt.

“I needed you.”

“You needed to blackmail me to my mom to go to jail….”

“Well….” said Barbara coyly as can be, “You can fuck this slutty anytime you want.”

“Fine.”

Barbara transform into a little brat. My grandma jumped for joy. Her hands clapped. “You mean it?”

My grandma kissed me on the lips.

“Here, to my bedroom,” she hold out her hand and takes me to her room.

“I’m so excited by your change of heart, my boy,” she rushed around her room. Flinging her coat on the chair. My grandma pushed me on her bed.

“What to do? I can give you slurpy BJ or a handjob while we kisses…”.

My Grandma Barbara acted like a birthday girl. I laughed.

“You laugh at me?” she said wounded.

“Here. Come sit on my lap,” I said, “You’re in love with me, grandma.”

She nodded her head. Golden blond and white hairs fell to my face. “I miss you.”

I touched her chin. “You’re my submissive sex slave.”

My grandma Barbara whispered, “…no.”

“Yes, you are.”

Barbara look at me.

“You’re my whore. And, I’m your pimp.”

I kissed my own grandma.

“Say it.”

My Grandma Barbara whispered it to me, “I’m your…. whore. You’re my pimp.”

“Now, get down on my floor and suck my cock…. grandma.”

I tabulated my horny friends who will pay lovely money to get between my Grandma Barbara’s thighs… and, my MILF mom and higher priced in my oldest sisters’ pussy…

The possibilities are endless…

[rhyrhy]

Kiss the chef

[warnings]: chef! Abby, unserious, suggestive mentions, headcannons, wc 1k

Chef! Abby’s! first viral video was around a year ago. A simple clip of her making cacio e pepe. The video was beautifully shot, a warm coloring complementing the glossy dish. but what really got everyone’s attention?

The way her forearms tensed while she cracked fresh pepper. Veins showing themselves along her freckled skin. Comments often reading:

@ “ok but how do i get the pasta to look this good?”

@ “i have something to say but i want to go to college”

@ “ma’am, i’m trying to focus but your ARMS?????😣”

@ “looks SO good💕..and the food i guess”

Chef Abby! had always loved cooking, growing up in a kitchen with her dad, who ran The Cordova, one of downtown Washington’s finest restaurants. But she liked the no pressure vibe of TikTok—just her and her food. She decided she wouldn’t show her face much, if at all. Letting the small flex of her muscles when she kneaded dough into a floured surface be the main visual. While comments? They were only half focused on what she was making.

Naturally, her account gained traction. No face, no voice—just hands, muscles, and literal food porn. Every video felt like a Sunday afternoon in a kitchen. @buffandbasil, now sat at 2.5 million followers.

Chef Abby! tried to ignore the thirst in her comments. How could she? It was honestly a small ego boost, even if it was a bit over the top at times. Like the second pinned video on the top of her page—where all she was doing was making bread.

@ : “knead ME like that.”

@ : “both lips are smiling rn”

@: “need her to bake something in me, respectfully😇“

@: “we need to chill in the comments… *saves video*”

Chef Abby! wasn’t a huge fan of putting her face in her videos. However, the occasional face slip would happen. A quick shot of her golden hair in view or a reflection in a clean pan.

The third and final pinned video? The one sitting at a few million views and a comment section that out-ratioed it?

Her hair draped over a fitted black Henley shirt, the top button undone. Sleeves rolled up to her elbows. And when she reached up for something overhead in a cabinet? A small sliver of her torso—those abs?

Yeah. They lost it.

@ “niagara falls just relocated”

@ “MY CLOTHES, WHERE’D THEY GO!!?!”

@ “her strap drags, for sure. touches the floor.”

@^ “mind you, i would take it.😊”

@ ^^ “y’all are TOO freaked out 💀”

And trust—Chef Abby! loved it. Really. Laying in bed, straight cackling on FaceTime with her best friend Manny, sending him screenshots or full-blown screen sharing. She didn’t reply. Not really. But she absolutely posted a few videos after. No shirt, just her “Kiss the Chef” apron and vibes.

And the one time she did reply?

@: “Do you do weddings?”

@buffandbasil :“Yes, actually.”

Harmless, right? Simple. Straightforward. She had catered weddings before. Large events, alongside her father, but—

@: “As… the bride?”

She saw it exactly three minutes after posting her reply. And in those three minutes, her comment had already tripled in likes. The replies? A war zone.

@ “ANSWER THE QUESTION!”

@ “HELLO???????”

@ “bro air balled.”

@ “ok so u free next saturday or???”

She paid it no mind. Mostly. But sometimes, a few profiles caught her attention. She was human, after all. Chef Abby! had seen your likes. You didn’t know it yet.

For you? It was originally just another cringe or brain rot video being sent by your roommate, Dina. But when you clicked the video of @buffandbasil all laughter halted. Typing back—

You: “Dee, hear me out..😭”

Dina: “Oh my god. OH MY GOD. Lost the plot.”

Chef Abby! considered reciprocating the engagement but saw how many views you usually received on GRWMs and storytimes and decided on a more… exciting approach. Wanting to see if you’d bite.

No aesthetic instrumentals—this time, a voiceover. Her voice, soft, steady Tutorial style.

“So today, we’re making sourdough from scratch. You wanna make sure your starter is active, and then we’re gonna knead it—”

@: “OH SHE TALKS???”

@: “it’s all over the screen ngl 🌊”

@: “asmr videos when?”

@: “great now i have a crush on a faceless chef, thanks.”

@: “I’m ovulating rn please chill 💔💔”

But the only comment she was looking for? Yours.

@ you: “Me next🫦!”

You typed it. And went to bed. She had so many comments—she probably wouldn’t even see it.

But as the sun poured through your curtains the next morning, your stomach flipped. A notification.

Followed by @buffandbasil. 2 hours ago.

Legs swinging the blankets off, then you were sprinting down the hall, launching yourself onto Dina’s bed like a feral animal let loose.

She groaned, blindly swatting at you. “Dude, what the—”

Without another word, you shoved your phone in her face. Dina squinted, blinked a few times, then—loud, cackling.

“Dee. This isn’t a ‘hear me out’ anymore—this is a hold me back.” You said, falling next to her dramatically, smiling.

Dina wheezed, shaking her head. “Nah. You are in the sunken place now, sister.”

[crazyness-overpowers]

“She’s my best friend’s kid.” Haymitch didn’t look up when Beetee stopped next to him, in a corner of the lobby of the Tribute Center, where all the mentors were, briefly, gathering.

They had discovered a few years ago that this corner was a spot with just enough feedback from the climate control system to mess with any recording devices. There was a way they checked, every year, to make sure it was the same, and he was already certain it would be fine. They never discussed anything sensitive, but chose the spot as their place to exchange limited pleasantries in low tones, reassured slightly by the tiny bit of privacy.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends.” Beetee’s reply wasn’t cold-hearted, it was a fact Haymitch had thrown at him year after year.

“I don’t. I pushed him away. Barely knew him by the time he died.”

“But…”

Haymitch should hate the way the older man could bait him into explaining himself. But he doesn’t have the energy. “But that’s still his kid, okay? And I like her, in spite of myself.”

“You’ve never been one to get attached to the tributes.” Again, a fact. Nothing rude meant by it.

“Things change.” He took a sip of his drink, just for something to do. “She reminds me of me. Just luckier, perhaps.”

“Oh?” Beetee’s face flashed for a second, and in that moment Haymitch knew Plutarch had shared the details of their conversation in 11 decades ago with Beetee.

Good.

“If she dies, I’m done.” Haymitch let the words hang in the air for a beat, knowing Beetee would understand him, exactly had he had with his previous statement.

“Haymitch, no.” Beetee’s response was firm, but sympathetic. And was not a real attempt to change his mind.

“He’ll see what it does to me, if she dies. And then the other girl will be back on the block a year from now.” Haymitch knew this conversation was pushing it in length, and he was already looking across the room to find someone else to greet next. “It’s for the best.”

“And if she wins?” Beetee asked, allowing the slightest hint of excitement to break through.

“Then I’m in.” Haymitch crossed the room and greeted Chaff with a hug, not turning back to look a Beetee.

If he had, he would have seen the small smile.

[sturnsblogs]

NO TURNING BACK.

Skater!Chris X Favorite!Ex!Reader

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩

The past week had been a mix of texts and moments where Chris had tried, again and again, to break through your walls. You hadn’t talked in three months, and now, here he was—messaging you every day like nothing had changed. But the worst part was, you couldn’t stop yourself from reading his messages, even though you tried not to care.

Monday:

“Hey, what’s up? Wanna hang out? I miss you.”

Tuesday:

“I know you’re probably busy, but I really wanna see you. Just for a bit.”

Wednesday:

“You free tonight? I’m just sitting here thinking about you… feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Thursday:

“I’m not giving up. You know I’d drive to the ends of the earth just to hang out with you for five minutes. C’mon, please?”

Friday:

“Okay, okay, I get it. You don’t want to see me, but maybe I’ll just show up anyway. Don’t make me beg. Again.”

And, of course, you gave in. Just like you always did.

You had been trying to keep your distance, trying to be “just friends,” but it felt like every day that passed made it harder to breathe. The way Chris texted you with that sweet persistence, like nothing had changed, it made you start to question if you were doing the right thing. You couldn’t be just friends. Not with him. Not when you missed him too much.

By Friday, you finally gave in. He showed up at your door with that same damn grin, the one you hated and loved in equal measure. He had his skateboard slung over his shoulder like he hadn’t spent the last three months making things complicated between you two.

“Hi, pretty,” Chris said, his voice low and full of that teasing warmth you’d missed.

You sighed, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. “Hello, Chris.”

He didn’t wait for you to say much else before he walked in, sitting down on your couch like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Care if I smoke in here?” he asked, his fingers already moving to pull out a joint before you even had a chance to respond.

“Chris, no! You can’t smoke in here. That’s like the main fucking rule in this complex,” you protested, half-laughing, half-serious, but he was already lighting it.

He gave you a cocky smile as he exhaled the smoke. “Relax, it’ll be fine. One hit, promise.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected, but your heart was already thumping a little faster than you wanted to admit. The way he just did things—like he owned the place—made it hard to keep your composure.

After a few minutes of him making himself at home, you eventually gave in, following him to the car when he suggested the skate park. “I just wanna show you my new tricks,” he begged, his hand brushing yours just a little too casually as you walked. The familiar touch made you falter, but you pushed it down.

At the skate park, Chris was showing off, like he always did. He was in his element, doing tricks and flipping his skateboard like it was second nature. You leaned against the fence, arms crossed, doing your best not to pay him too much attention. But every time he landed a trick and glanced over at you, it made something in your chest twist.

“You gonna clap or something, or just stand there looking bored?” he teased after landing another flawless trick, skating over to you with a smirk.

You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Guess I’ve seen it all before.”

Chris’s expression dropped for a moment, and you could tell the playful spark faded. “Oh. That’s it? No reaction at all?” His voice held a small crack now, softer than usual.

You didn’t realize how much your lack of excitement was getting to him until he stood there, looking slightly hurt. “You really not impressed?” he asked, his usual cockiness slipping.

You shrugged again, trying to play it cool but feeling guilty at the same time. “You’re good, Chris. It’s just… not what I came here for.”

He bit his lip, clearly frustrated, and suddenly dropped his skateboard with a little more force than necessary. “Guess you’re just done with me, huh?” His voice was low, almost like a whisper, but it carried all the hurt you didn’t expect.

You felt the guilt slam into your chest, your breath catching. “What? No, Chris, that’s not it.”

But before you could say anything else, he was walking away, kicking his skateboard in frustration. His usual cocky demeanor was gone, replaced with something you hadn’t seen in a while—something soft and vulnerable.

“Forget it,” he muttered, his back to you now. “You obviously don’t care anymore.”

You rushed after him, your heart pounding as you reached out, grabbing his arm. “Don’t do this,” you said, almost pleading. “I care, I just… I’m not sure how to act anymore.”

Chris shook his head and yanked his arm out of your grip. “It’s fine. You don’t need to pretend.” His eyes were dark, and you could see that familiar pout on his lips—one that was so hard to ignore. “I’m just some guy you hang out with now, right?”

The hurt in his voice twisted something inside of you. “Chris, I’m not saying that. I never stopped caring. It’s just complicated.”

He turned to face you then, his eyes softening just a little. “I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he whispered. “I want you back, but I feel like I’m always fighting for your attention.”

That was when you realized it—he wasn’t playing a game. He wasn’t being playful anymore. He was serious.

You stepped closer to him, your voice quiet. “I miss you too, okay? I miss us. But we can’t just keep doing this.”

Chris took a step forward, his hand reaching for your face, his fingers brushing against your jaw with a softness you hadn’t felt in months. “Then show me,” he murmured, his face inches from yours. “Show me you care.”

Before you could say anything, he kissed you—slow, tender, like he was trying to put everything he’d been feeling into that one kiss. And for a second, you forgot about everything else. The fight, the distance, the confusion—all of it faded away.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he whispered, “I’ve missed you so damn much. Don’t just push me away again.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a breath. “I’m not pushing you away, Chris. But we have to figure this out.”

He smiled softly, and for the first time that day, it felt like you were finally in sync again.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩

A/N- yes? no? Give me ideas or requests on what to do for the next part! (i can write blurbs that are out of the story about them and stuff or like you can ask me questions about them)

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl

[piastriheart]

clicked. ln4.

summary: adelaide summerton has always craved the spotlight, but as the newest pop princess, she realizes that fame isn't everything. in a moment of boredom, she logs into omegle, and meets lando norris. he's everything she could ever want, and best of all? he doesn't recognize her. so starts her torrid love affair with someone who loves her for who she is, not for her popularity.

warnings: suggestive content, swearing.

genre & tropes: angst, secret identity, slow burn.

face claim: sabrina carpenter.

song: ♪ “ in my mind ” / lyn lapid.

adelaidesummerton so happy to announce my next album, xoxo, which will be releasing april 6th, 12am EST! can’t wait to share my songs with you all 💋

liked by taylorswift, oliviarodrigo, tatemcrae, & 53k others

comments (49k)

user1 does she ever sleep? 😭

-> user2 she’s incredible. i’m in awe

-> user3 didn’t she just release an album six months ago?

-> user1 yes! and went on tour for it too

-> user3 how?? she has to be a robot

-> user2 that’s what i’m genuinely thinking

user4 MOTHER 🧎‍♀️

taylorswift You are incredible! Keep up the amazing work 💗

-> adelaidesummerton thank you, this means the world to me 🥹

-> user5 i love to see artists supporting other artists. my worlds are colliding

-> user6 tayaddie collab when?!

-> user7 she’s so sweet, oh my gosh

-> user8 best interaction of 2025

olliebearman So ready for every song to be on my pre-race playlist 🔒🫶

-> user9 OLLIE BEARMAN MY POP LOVING KING

-> user10 help what is ollie doing here 😭

-> user11 he has the best taste in music ever

adelaidesummerton the 10 track titles for my upcoming album have been released! just 4️⃣ more days until it’s released 🤭

liked by gracieabrams, beyonce, taylorswift, & 13k others

comments (12k)

user11 lover girl is so my song i’m already manifesting it

noahkahan ❤️

-> adelaidesummerton see you soon 😁

user12 what do we think of the 4️⃣ emoji use? it’s a bit strange

-> user13 with adelaide, it always means something

-> user14 i’m thinking it means 4 music videos

-> user14 and 4 singles?

-> user12 that would be amazing 🙏

kiernanshipka So excited!

-> adelaidesummerton i love you so much! let me know when you’re back in la so we can catch up 🥰

landonorris What a dramatic race! P2 in Japan. Awesome 👍

liked by f1, mclaren, oscarpiastri, & 81k others

comments (48k)

user15 i was on the edge of my seat the whole race 😭

-> user16 should have been illegal how terrifying it was

user17 the botched pit stop had me crying 🤕

user18 p2 is awesome after all of that

oscarpiastri Glad you’re OK, mate

-> landonorris Thanks 🧡

user19 thought i changed timelines because mclaren's strategy was so bad

-> user20 as a tifosa, i refuse to hear this slander

user21 so proud of you lando!

user22 awesome work 🙌

user23 lando is a magician

-> user24 i know, he’s super lucky

from adelaidesummerton's private Instagram

comments (5):

chappellroan Sorry babe, here if you wanna talk

-> adelaidesummerton love youuu

mckennagrace 😔

oliviarodrigo Truer words have never been spoken. Miss you loads

jennaortega Sadly relatable ❤️‍🩹

April 8th, 2025

Adelaide Hey.

Lando Hi, I’m Lando. And you are?

Adelaide Addie. What brings you to Omegle?

Lando Sometimes when I’m bored, I do this. My friend Max told me to join. What about you?

Adelaide Same. I’m so atrociously bored. (fake yawns)

Lando Atrocious. Big word.

Adelaide Really? (raises eyebrow) It's like three or four syllables.

Lando I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use atrocious in a sentence.

Adelaide Well then, I’ll be the first.

Lando (laughs) You have a refreshing sense of humor.

Adelaide Thank you! (smiles)

landonorris P1 in Miami! Dreams really do come true.

liked by f1, mclaren, oscarpiastri, & 82k others

comments (73k)

user25 YEAHHH THAT’S MY LN4!

user26 i yelled so loudly when he crossed the finish line that my dog woke up

-> user27 helpppp 😭 this comment

user28 lando norris my goat 🐐

user29 my mctwink clinched victory again!!

user30 champagne pic is adorable. he deserves all the happiness

mclaren WDC in the making 🏆

user31 prince of miami i’m telling you

-> user32 two wins at the same circuit back to back? insane

user33 proved the haters wrong

user34 mad talent 🔥

adelaidesummerton so proud of you 🤭

-> landonorris 🙏

user35 🫶🫶🫶

from adelaidesummerton's private Instagram story

comments (13):

zendaya Spill the tea!!

-> adelaidesummerton soon i promise!

laufey Happy for you 🥰

jlo So beautiful ❤️ I’m glad everything’s working out.

adelaidesummerton yeah, he might just be the one.

liked by ladygaga, meredithduxbury, jackantonoff, & 16k others

comments (14k)

user36 WHO WHO WHO

user37 oh my god…….

-> user38 did she actually get a boyfriend

user39 she’s BACK IN THE STUDIO AGAIN?

user40 my heart is PALPITATING

landonorris A bit suspicious 🤨🤨

timotheechalamet (Im)patiently waiting for news…

-> adelaidesummerton 😅

user41 tell us 🥲

-> user42 i’m dying to know

user43 the caption? does anyone know what she means?

-> user44 it’s lyrics from “hopeless romantic”, but i don’t know if there’s any hidden meaning to it?

user45 she just dropped this bombshell on me right before i have to take a 3 hour exam

user46 no way!!

user47 y’all the pop princess might’ve found her prince

-> user48 my shayla 🥹

-> user49 lowkey crashing out over this

One month later

addiesummertongossip Before singing her hit song “Lover Girl” as Lana Del Rey’s opener, Adelaide gave a short speech. The transcript is included in full below. “So, a few months ago, I released a little song called ‘Lover Girl’. It was an idea I came up with in the middle of the night. You know, like one of those random epiphanies you get right before you fall asleep? And, anyways, the thought was that it would be about a girl, who was once a hopeless romantic — a nod to one of my other songs — but suddenly met the boy of her dreams. He did more than just the bare minimum. When I wrote that song, it was a fantasy for me. I hoped it would connect with lucky members of my audience that actually were in a relationship, but I couldn’t relate at all. Most guys I’d met were assholes. Sorry. And then I met Lando Norris. It’s really funny, actually, how we met. We met on Omegle. Not Tinder or Raya. Yeah, you heard that right. He didn’t recognize who I was; he thought I was just some random, pretty girl, and maybe some weaker person would’ve been hurt by that, but I liked that. I could be myself, my true self, without judgement. He didn’t care about my celebrity status. After I told him the truth about who I was, he said to me, ‘I’m proud that you’re successful, but it doesn’t change anything. I love you for who you are.’ So, in short, this song is dedicated to none other than Lando Norris.”

liked by musicmedia, adsummerupdates, popculture & 9k more

comments (5k)

user55 it’s been a long time coming

user56 i was there, the speech brought tears to my eyes

-> user57 JEALOUS 😵‍💫

-> user58 can’t believe you got to see addie and lana in the same night

user59 laddie shipper till the day i die

user60 best couple of 2025 😍

from an interview with landonorris

“I’m very grateful to be with Adelaide. I didn’t know who she was until she told me… I don’t listen to romantic pop songs, unless they’re recommended to me. I’ve listened to her songs now; she’s absolutely brilliant, I was definitely missing out before. My favorite song is ‘Confess’, it’s what I wanted to do the whole time while we were talking back and forth. I think my different taste in music helped, though. We were able to make a relationship based off of personality, shared interests, not fame. And no one ever mentions this, but she didn’t recognize who I was either! Hopefully, she’s willing to come to the paddock. I’d like to have her around, introduce her to the world of motorsports. She’s the best.”

The End. ♡

©⠀piastriheart, 25’. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or reproduce my work in any form without my permission.

[maskedcrawford]

Love Language

Felix x Reader

Warnings: Like one cuss word, and possibly horribly wrong Korean.

A/N: Thank you to my sweet Anon who waited patiently for this, I'm excited that I think I got a decent plot written for this request! I used google for the Korean phrases used. Korean can be a dirty translation when it comes to English so I did my best, but yeah. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Requests are OPEN

“Ugh!” you shout from the apartment living room. Felix peeks around the corner with his brow furrowed.

“What’s up, y/n/n,” he asks coming to sit beside you. Felix was over to play video games today but you needed a short break.

“Nothing,” you sigh, frustration taking over your brain. Felix looks between you and the phone screen before cautiously peeling it from your hand.

“Why are you trying to say, ‘Nice to meet you,’ in Korean?” he asks as he reads the screen. You put your face in your hands.

“Because, Lix, when the guys are out and I’m with you, sometimes you guys all speak in Korean and I can’t hardly keep up with what little I know. I want to join in,” you motion with your hand as you try to figure out the words, “Contribute to the conversation.”

He nods his head thinking for a minute.

“Why don’t I teach you?”

“You’d do that for me?” you ask a little surprised at his offer.

“Of course, what else are friends for?” He winks playfully at you and your cheeks dust pink as you smile.

-

“Ok so, it’s Mworago haesseo,” you watch his lips as he slowly speaks the word. Your mind wondering how soft they really are before you snap yourself back to reality.

“Mworago hasseo,” you say slowly.

“Exactly!” he beams at you with pride; his little prodigy.  

“And it means,” he asks.

“What did you say?” and the smile quickly returns to his face.

“You said you were getting confused, but you’re doing great.” He compliments and you blush.

“Helps when you have a good teacher,” you shrug and its his turn to be embarrassed.

“Nah, Lee Know taught me, so I’m really just teaching you what I know.” He rubs the back of his neck. The lessons continue on for the next weeks, you slowly start stringing sentences together and little by little Felix is incorporating it into your casual conversations.

After weeks of learning you’re going to dinner with boys and you take a deep breath as you sit down. Casual conversation is made for a little while, but per usual, the guys slowly start interchanging languages; Korean to English and vice versa.

“eonje geunyeo-ege nega geunyeoreul joahanda go malhal gyeoya?” (When are you going to tell her you like her?) Hyunjin asks. Felix’s eyes go a bit wide and the guys look at him confused. Everyone then looks at you, and you have the same wide-eyed sentiment.

“Mworago hasseo?” you ask slowly and now their eyes go wide, instantly understanding Felix’s embarrassment.

“Oh shit,” Bang Chan chuckles.

“Since when did you learn Korean?” Han asks with amusement and shock in his voice. You shrug as you look down, your stomach in tiny knots.

“Felix was nice enough to help tutor me so I could be more involved in the conversation. So he didn’t have to constantly translate for me.” You say quietly. Oh if only the world would swallow you whole.

“So, Felix,” Bang Chan says with another laugh.

“You taught her Korean, what kind of reward did she want?” He makes a kissy face and the two of you blush, with Felix putting his hand over his face.

“Nothing like that happened,” he said.

“isseotseul sido isseotseoyo” (it could have) Changbin speaks up and you stare at your lap. Getting to know Felix better the last few weeks obviously helped the small crush you already had on him grow bigger. But you hadn’t expected that he liked you too. The rest of the night goes on like normal a little more teasing about being his secret girlfriend is mentioned and that you were just playing dumb to get him to spend more time with you. Neither you or Felix can really look each other in the eye at this point.

“Seriously though, your Korean really has improved,” Han compliments with a wink and you groan with a smile.

“Thank you, I worked hard,” he smirks at your response.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” he winks back at you and you walk out of the restaurant to your car.

“Nachunge bwayo,” (See you later) you call out to the guys. They wave at you with bright smiles and Felix jogs up to you.

“Great job,” he drawls.

“Thanks,” you say not quite looking up into his eyes. You two are silent for a moment, you’re about to unlock your car door when he speaks again.

“Listen about what they said,” he rubs the back of his neck again.

“Don’t even worry about it Lix. We’d been spending a lot of time together, we got close,” before you can reason it away he leans in a presses a sweet soft kiss to your lips. You freeze for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and putting your arms around his neck, pulling him in just a little closer. When the two of you separate you can hear wolf whistling and shouting behind him.

“machimnae,” (finally!) Seungmin exclaims in relief. You giggle and hide your face in his shoulder.

“A new language and a new man, I’m not doing half bad.” You wink up at him and he smiles shaking his head.  

If you enjoyed, consider buying me a coffee

Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged <3

[kawoala]

#BEHIND THE SCENES 🎥: ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ You’ve Got Mail.

EVERYONE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE ─── y/n breaks exciting news to her friends and ochako takes her to out to celebrate, tsuyu included.

directors notes ─── smau/traditional/tweets. best friends! ochako uraraka & tsuyu asui. profanity. references to places in new york. alcohol consumption. hate tweets (?). also, if you see spelling errors, pls tell me via ask or dm! thanks. beta read my my glorious mutual @tokeposts !

word count ─── 1.6k -> 1,673.

you’re vibrating with excitement as you wipe down the counters. your hands shake as you text ochako. the smile on your face, seemingly permanent, is starting to hurt your cheeks.

you stop wiping the counter to stare at your reflection in the metal. this is it, you think. the lead role in a multi-million dollar project. you send a quick prayer to whoever, asking them to please not let this project get canceled halfway through filming—or worse, before it even starts.

shaking you from your haze of happiness, there’s a knock at the front door. you look up and smile once more upon meeting the scarf-covered face of your best friend.

you scramble out from behind the counter, hands working at the lock nimbly. you swing the door open and involuntarily let out a squeal of excitement. “you will never fucking believe the call i got today,” you whisper.

she pinches her brows together and takes a step inside, a shiver racking down her body. “it’s cold as hell out there!” she exclaims, rubbing her hands together to try and warm them. “i can’t believe you made me walk all the way over here.”

“yeah, yeah.” you wave your hand vaguely and lock the door again, turning to her with a barely controlled smile. “i got the part.”

her hands freeze, eyes widening a fraction. she opens her mouth, then closes it, like she’s unsure what to say. very faintly, her eyes start to shine with unshed tears.

“you got the part,” she repeats—a statement, not a question. she lets out a heavy breath, then laughs incredulously. “y/n, you got the part? are you serious? that’s amazing! oh my g- we have to call tsu! have you told your mom? oh my god, this is so awesome!” she rushes forward and wraps her arms around you, stray hairs tickling your nose. “we have to celebrate! oh my god, y/n, i’m so proud of you!”

you hug her back immediately, squeezing tightly and swaying back and forth for a moment. in this moment, it becomes real for you. you’ve told someone, it’s out in the air. soon enough, the cast will be released to the public. soon enough, you’ll be bombarded with followers and dm’s and creepy guys who want to buy your used underwear and—

“we have to celebrate,” ochako says, pulling away but not letting go of you. “are you done here? you’re done, right? we need to go out. i’ll call tsu and you can close up and then we can go get very drunk!”

you laugh and nod, overwhelmed by the amount of support she’s giving you. “absolutely,” you say, nodding again. “i have a change of clothes in my locker; i’ve been waiting for this moment.”

she pauses, clicking her tongue, then laughs. “that’s so you for some reason.” you tilt your head and she snickers. “i’m not elaborating on that. now go, go. get changed, lock the doors.” her eyes narrow, challenging. “let’s go get fucked up.”

as she ushers you away, you’re laughing. you can’t seem to stop, really. it’s real. you’re going to be famous and you’re going to be rich. as you strip off your shirt, you silently vow to spend your first paycheck on a nice dinner for you and your girls. they’ve done so much to support your career, it’s the only way you can think of to pay them back.

by the time you’re done changing, ochako is sitting down at one of the booths, scrolling on her phone. she must hear your footsteps, because she looks up and grins widely.

“you ready?” she asks, standing and straightening the nonexistent wrinkles out her coat. “tsu said she’d meet us at the bar. sunny’s, your favorite, of course. gah! i can’t believe my best friend is going to be a famous actress!”

she pulls into another quick hug, then grabs your hand and leads you to the front door, unlocking it herself and pulling you out. you make sure to lock it before letting her drag you away, hands still shaking from just how elated you are.

it’s a short walk to the bar, just a few blocks away from the diner you work at, tick tock. it’s small, designed to look a bit vintage, and arguably your favorite place in the world. you and your friends used to go everyday after school, whether it was to hang out or to actually order something. eventually, during your junior year, they started hiring. all three of you applied, and all three of you got the job. however, once university started, both ochako and tsuyu quit to get jobs that were more related to their career choices; the former majoring in communication, the latter majoring in biology.

of course, the bar is packed when you arrive. mostly college kids using fake IDs, but a few older people sitting at the bar and watching the hockey game on one of the TVs.

tsuyu is sitting at the bar as well, scrolling in her phone, sipping on what you presume is water. she’s never been much of a drinker, but she also doesn’t want to make anyone feel weird, so she comes to the functions and acts as the designated driver. or, in this case, the designated walker.

“tsu!” ochako yells across the bar, drawing attention to the two of you. your eyes widen and, when you loop your arm around hers, she just giggles. “this place is busy tonight. how long have you been here?”

tsu sighs and nods towards one of the older people at the end of the bar. “long enough to know his sister's fiancé’s cousin's brother's best friend plays professional hockey.”

you snicker and take a seat next to tsuyu, ochako taking the seat on the other side of her. you two exchange glances, then look at tsuyu, whose eyes are narrowed suspiciously.

“why do you two look like you just successfully robbed someone?”

“what? tsu, obviously we didn’t rob someone.” ochako furrows her brows and shakes her head.

“right,” you say seriously, nodding. “if we were going to rob something, it would be a bank. and we’d rope you into it, of course. make you the getaway driver or something.”

tsu nods, equally as serious. “oh, right, duh. you’re right; i’d never do good in a one-on-one situation like that.” she takes a sip from her cup and nods. “good looking out.”

ochako groans and shake her head again, this time more dramatically. “we did not drag you out of the apartment to talk about a potential bank robbery!” she exclaims, a little too loud. a few heads turn and you duck your head, hiding your laugh. “y/n has some very exciting- no, amazing news!”

tsuyu looks from her to you and tilts her head, blinking with wide eyes.

you take a deep breath and rest your hands on her forearm. “you’re looking at the new main character of the one and only between the raindrops.”

for a moment, she’s still. body unmoving, eyes unblinking. slowly, her mouth opens. “you’re joking,” she says. she glances at ochako, whose smile is so bright, it could blind someone. she looks at you again and her eyes get impossibly wider. “you’re not joking? y/n- oh my god! that’s so awesome!” she repeats ochako’s earlier actions, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. she leans away, grabbing your shoulders and squeezing. “you’re serious, right? it’s not funny to joke about this. i’ve put too much work into your acting career for you to be joking.”

you laugh and shake your head. “i am one hundred percent serious,” you say quietly. “i promise.”

she hesitates, smiling so hard you’re sure her cheeks hurt, before turning to the bar and gesturing to the bartender. “can i get a round of shots for me and my friends? straight vodka, please.” when the bartender raises his brows, she leans forward. “she just got the biggest role of her life!”

the bartender just sighs and nods, disappearing to gather your drinks.

“a round for all of us, huh?” ochako inquires, leaning towards tsuyu. “you’re actually drinking tonight?”

tsuyu takes a deep breath, throws back the rest of her water, and nods firmly. “you were right. we’re celebrating something huge. all of y/n’s hard work finally paid off. all of our hard work paid off.”

“your hard work?” you repeat, singular brow quirked.

“absolutely our hard work,” tsuyu says incredulously. “late nights helping you remember your lines, countless retakes of those video things, driving you to auditions—shall i go on?”

you bring your hands up in mock surrender. “okay, okay,” you laugh. “our hard work.”

after an hour at the bar, tsuyu is wasted. you’ve limited yourself, already trying to get used to the non-hungover life you’re going to living soon. and ochako disappeared to the bathroom ten minutes ago.

your eyes are trained in the TV as tsuyu puts an arm on your knee, startling you a bit. you look down at her flushed face and smile. “yes, tsuyu?”

“‘m really proud of you,” she slurs out quietly. “seriously. you deserve this.”

your smile falters, growing softer as she speaks. you put a hand on her back and hum. “i couldn’t have done it without you and ochako. i mean that. you guys are my rock. er, my rocks.”

she hiccups, then giggles, then rests her forehead against the varnished wood of the bar. you sigh quickly and glance around, looking for ochako; you’re pretty sure it’s time to head home. you know ochako is going to complain about how an hour at the bar isn’t much of a celebration, but, honestly, you think it is. you go out with them pretty often, but it’s never just the three of you. ochako usually brings her situationship, izuku, and tsuyu usually drags along her classmates, momo and jirou. hanging out with just the two of them, drinking with just the two of them—it’s enough for you.

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[haru-dipthong]

Fansub release + translation notes for Utena ep 25!

Am I getting trigger happy with these title changes? Or are the themes of the show just getting hinted at more clearly in the Japanese titles as the show progresses, and the standard English translations are failing to convey those themes? Either way, this is another episode where I felt the need to retranslate the title. It’s usually translated as Our Eternal Apocalypse or Their Eternal Apocalypse. But this misses a very important piece of meaning — our/their (ふたりの) refers exclusively to two people. Therefore a better translation would be:

ふたりの永遠黙示録

ETERNAL APOCALYPSE FOR TWO

On top of this, Anya and I discussed alternatives that might sound more natural, at the expense of one of the two theme words (eternal or apocalypse). They suggested “endless apocalypse for two” or “eternal damnation for two”, which I really liked as titles. However, I think the Japanese is already slightly nonsensical and I think ensuring it comes across as such in English makes for a more accurate translation. One reason it comes across as nonsensical (or maybe not nonsensical but... using vocab exclusive to the show?) is that 永遠 is not a descriptor of 黙示録, since there’s no の particle present between them — the two words are combined into a compound word. Another reason is that 黙示録 doesn’t mean “Apocalypse” or “Revelation”, but specifically “The Book of Revelation”. It’s not an apocalypse that lasts forever but an eternal whatever-the-Book-of-Revelation-represents, I guess?

We also discussed who the “two” are that are being referred to in the title and agreed it’s likely referring to Saionji and Touga. Saionji is implied to be searching for an eternal or unchanging friendship, and this theme is reinforced by the shadow girl play. Interestingly I think the shadow girls are referring to Saionji (not Utena) when they say 勇者様 (lit. master hero; my translation: “brave sir knight”).

---

One big challenge of translation is preserving tone in cases of non-standard speech. For example, Wakaba speaks to Utena in an extremely casual schoolgirl-esque way. And because of this, many of the words she uses don’t carry specific meaning, but instead convey tone or emotion. For example:

Wakaba: もう超ラッキーって感じね！

Wakaba: It’s like, wow, you’re so lucky!

In this line, もう does not appear literally as in “already”, it appears as a tone indicator slash filler word, similar to the way “like” is used in English in casual feminine speech.

And in this line:

Wakaba: ウキウキラブラブーの展開なんて

Wakaba: I’d be all, “Ahhhh! He’s gorgeous!

The two consecutive 擬態語 (gitaigo — onomatopoeic words that describe actions or feelings that don’t make physical noise) are also a characteristic of casual speech, and very hard to translate directly. If you had to adhere closer to the source, you might translate it like so:

It’s a happy-happy-lovey-lovey development!

But let’s look at the true meaning here: ウキウキ is a happy or exciting vibe, and ラブラブ indicates an idyllic-romantic vibe. And to my ear, gitaigo feel closer to emotion than other words. It’s like, the emotions are too strong for her to be able to think of an actual word so all she can do is make the “sound” of her feelings. So to replicate that in English, I had her express her inner monologue directly!

---

I really felt this scene in my soul when I watched it again this time around. After doing my initial translation, I decided to check the ohtori scripts out of a morbid curiosity, and I found what I expected — bad translations!

Utena: ね、もし君に何か困ったことがあったら、まず僕に話してよ。なんでも助け合おうよ。君とはそういう友達になりたいんだ。

Utena: Hey, if you ever need to talk about something, I’m always here. Let’s be there for each other. I want to be that kind of friend for you. (my translation)

I wrote this translation the way I would convey the same sentiment to a close friend. I think it reads pretty genuinely and naturally. Now compare and contrast with the stilted alternative:

Utena: Hey, if something ever troubles you, come talk to me about it first. No matter what, we'll help each other. That's the kind of friends I want us to be. (from ohtori.nu)

A big thanks as always to my incredible editor @dontbe-lasanya! Your insights into the title translation were invaluable.

Be sure to follow the blog to get updates as they release! For all episodes released so far, go here:

Rose divider taken from this post.

[dee-writes-anime]

We Are Actually Meant to Name It?! With Yuta Okkotsu

FEATURING Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

SUMMARY In which you tell Yuta that your baby still does not have a name and he responds by trying to name the baby after his mentor

CONTENT WARNINGS mild panic descriptions from Yuta, fluff and cuteness

AUTHORS NOTE my grand return has arrived! And on a day where I am procrastinating a final of course! I'll hopefully be back to a "normal" (for me anyway) schedule these days so please feel free to leave behind some requests! <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

Yuta Okkotsu was a lot of things—Jujutsu sorcerer, second-year mentor, all-around kind guy—but prepared for fatherhood? That was a different story entirely. Sure, he was excited. Thrilled, even. But the reality of it all still hadn’t fully settled in, even though you were heavily pregnant and waddling around the house like a determined penguin.

Which brought him to his current predicament.

You stood before him, one hand resting on your very round belly, the other rubbing slow circles on your lower back. Your face was calm, a little too calm, as if you weren’t about to drop life-changing news on him like a bomb.

“We still haven’t thought of a name,” you said.

Yuta blinked. Then again, harder this time, as if that would help process the words.

A name?

A name.

“For the baby? Our baby?” His voice cracked slightly, and the air in the room seemed to thin as panic set in.

“Yes, Yuta. For the baby. Our child. The small human I am about to push out of my body any day now.” Your words were patient, but your raised eyebrow suggested you were very aware of the way his brain was currently short-circuiting.

Yuta let out a noise—somewhere between a wheeze and a strangled gasp—and gripped the back of the couch for support. “Oh my God. Oh my God. We were supposed to name it?!”

You sighed. “Yes, Yuta. That is generally how babies work.”

Yuta’s hands went to his hair, pulling slightly at the dark strands as his eyes darted around the room, as if inspiration for a name might be hidden in the corners of your apartment. “I—I thought maybe it just… came with one? Like, when it arrives? The hospital hands you a certificate with a name on it?”

You gave him a flat look. “Like a Build-A-Bear?”

“YES! NO—wait, I mean—no, I didn’t think that! But maybe subconsciously?!”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Yuta. We are about to have a baby. A real, living, breathing baby. And that baby needs a name. A name that we, as responsible parents, must come up with.”

Yuta took a deep breath and nodded, shaking out his hands like he was about to perform an exorcism. “Okay. Right. A name. We can do this. We’re responsible adults.”

You side-eyed him. “One of us just had a minor existential crisis over the idea that babies don’t come with pre-installed names.”

He waved you off. “Doesn’t matter. I’m back in it. I’m focused.” He smacked his cheeks. “Okay. What about… Yuta Jr.?”

You stared at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?!”

“I love you, Yuta, but we are not naming our baby Yuta Jr.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. What about something cool? Like… Gojo?”

“Do you really want Gojo to think we named our child after him?”

Yuta visibly shuddered. “You’re right. He’d never let us live it down.”

You both stood in silence for a moment before Yuta snapped his fingers. “Okay! What if we name them after someone we admire? Like Nanami?”

You tilted your head in consideration. “That’s actually not bad. But what if it’s a girl?”

Yuta gasped. “Nanami-chan.”

“…We are not calling her Nanami-chan.”

More silence. More intense thinking. More Yuta looking like he was trying to solve the mysteries of the universe.

“What about something simple? Like Aoi?” you suggested.

Yuta immediately frowned. “You mean, like, after Toudou? No way. Next thing you know, he’ll be showing up uninvited, calling himself the baby’s uncle, and trying to instill his ‘best friend’ philosophy.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Good point.”

Yuta groaned, slumping onto the couch, dramatically dragging his hands down his face. “This is impossible. How do people do this?”

“They plan ahead, Yuta.”

“Okay, yeah, that would have been the smart thing to do.”

Another long pause. Then, suddenly, you gasped, grabbing his hand.

Yuta shot up immediately, concern flashing across his face. “What?! Are you okay?! Is it happening?!”

“No, no, false alarm.” You waved him off before placing his palm against your stomach. “The baby just kicked really hard.”

Yuta’s panic melted into pure wonder as he felt the movement beneath his hand. His heart clenched in his chest, a lump forming in his throat. “Whoa… our baby’s strong.”

You smiled. “Yeah. Just like their dad.”

He exhaled, rubbing slow circles over your stomach. “We’ll figure out a name.”

“You sure?”

Yuta nodded, his panic finally settling into something softer, more grounded. “Yeah. We’ve got this.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But if it’s a boy, we’re absolutely not naming him after Gojo.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

A few days later, you found yourself cradling a tiny bundle in your arms, exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones but warmth flooding your heart. Your baby girl blinked up at you with sleepy, dark eyes, completely unaware of the absolute disaster her father was currently making of naming her.

Yuta, standing at your bedside, had a look of pure determination. “Okay, hear me out. What about… Thunderstrike?”

You closed your eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. “Yuta.”

“Or—or maybe something elegant! Like… Moonshadow?”

You gave him a slow, exhausted blink. “Are we naming a baby or adopting a warrior cat?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Okay, okay, no Moonshadow. How about… Excalibur?”

You groaned, grabbing a notepad from the bedside table and, without a word, scribbling something down.

Yuta leaned over, peering at the paper. “‘Aishiteru’…?”

You smiled softly. “It means ‘I love you.’”

His breath hitched, and suddenly all the ridiculous names he’d been suggesting melted away. Yuta reached out, brushing a gentle finger against your daughter’s tiny hand, his voice hushed with awe. “Aishiteru…”

You glanced up at him. “You like it?”

Yuta swallowed thickly, then nodded. “I love it.”

And just like that, your little girl had a name.

TAGLIST

@makingtimemine @strawbrrycat @soraya-daydreams @shokosbunny @saltypuffin1040 @danilights2021 @startwithrecords @obeythebutler @sparklykeylime @surielstea

[oofmybad]

I know a place

synopsis: the two of you go dancing at a gay club in london. part 2 to hometown glory. pt. 1 here

warnings: nothing really, fluff, slightly suggestive at the end, not proof read

a/n: ur gonna have to keep suspending disbelief pls and thank u. billie is billie, but for the sake of the story, she does not get recognized.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“come on, baby, pleaseeeee” you beg your girlfriend, giving her the most doe eyes possible.

the mini tour you’re giving billie has landed you in soho. when you started university you would regularly visit the gay clubs around the area. some of your fondest memories with your closest friends were made those nights. so you wanted to share the experience with billie - it having been so affirming in your ‘baby gay’ days.

“it’s just not my kind of thing, y/n. you should call your friends and go, though! ” billie replies, squeezing your face in one hand and pecking your lips.

“i’ve already gone countless times with my friends - i wanna go with you! and, it’s not really my scene anymore, either, but you have to go once in your life - it’s a gay right of passage!” you go on at billie. you grab her hand that was just on your face and squeeze it, emphasizing your desire.

“ughhhhhhh fine! but only ‘cause you’re so pretty” billie rolls her eyes.

“YES! YES! YES!” you jump up and down, “you’re gonna love it!”

***time skip to the gay club***

the two of you walk in after having gone through security checks. there is a dimly lit staircase that leads you underground the train tracks - where the club is. as you two descend into the warehouse the music gets louder with each step.

amongst all of the laser beams and people it’s getting hard to keep track of billie so you reach your hand out for her to grab, she immediately takes your hold.

‘dancing on my own’ is blaring through the speakers and you can see a drag queen lip syncing to the song on the stage on the far side of the room.

“come on! follow me!” you yell at billie over the deafening music. she nods and allows herself to be dragged into the crowd.

once you’re happy with your spot - you have a view of the stage but you’re still surrounded by bodies - you pull billie into your hold and begin to dance with her.

both of your hips are swaying in unison, your arms around her shoulders. billie makes eye contact and mouths, “it’s so sweaty!” with a laugh.

“that’s the best part!” you yell back, joking, trying to get her to loosen up.

the song finishes and warps into ‘how to be a heartbreaker’. billie jokingly moans at the new song choice, “i love this song!”

you giggle at her excitement and separate your body from hers - the two of you now screaming the lyrics into each others faces. billie is starting to let go of her inhibitions, relaxing into the anonymity of the dark room.

kylie minogue comes on next, billie screaming, “banger after banger!”

once you two have been dancing around for a while, you lean into billie’s neck and say, “i’m hot, i’m gonna put my jacket in the cloak room.”

“ok, let’s go!” you two dance-walk out of the crowd and through the tunnels to the cloak room.

“here, put your jacket into mine so we only have to pay for one hanger” you order billie. she laughs at how frugal you are, giving you a ‘really?’ look but follows you orders anyway.

after you’ve successfully put your jackets away, you walk to the bar in search of hydration. as you two are chugging your pints of water, ‘i know a place’ by muna comes on.

“ohhhhh! i LOVE this song! dance floor. now.” you tell billie, slamming your cup down, and yank her with you.

“the first time i came here when i was 18 this song played. it was like a euphoric scene from an indie movie” you cheese, recollecting the first night you truly felt free in your body.

by the time the pre chorus arrives, you’re screaming along, getting ready for the beat to drop. once it does, the two of you jump with it. your enthusiasm has rubbed off on billie - she can’t help it when you look so adorable.

billie places her hands on your hips as you’re swaying them and pulls you closer so that the front of your body is pressed against hers. the two of you dance in sync, whilst you comb your fingers through her ever-so-slightly damp hair.

both of you stare deep into each others eyes, billie brings her face closer to yours. “you look so beautiful, y/n” she says with her forehead resting on yours as you sway.

her words cause you to cradle her head, searching for more intimacy amongst the bustling crowd of sweaty bodies. you lean in to kiss her, but quickly stop yourself, unsure of billie’s comfort level.

she notices your hesitation and squeezes your waist to tell you to continue. at that, your mouths connect and you make out with her. the climax of the song crescendos as your lips meet and hundreds of pink balloons fall from the sky. you both peer up in response to the roar from everyone around you, seeing the balloons.

giggling, your lips meet again, but this time only for a quick kiss. “the indie movie continues” you quip, pulling back.

various songs soundtrack your night, the two of you cycling through jumping up and down, swaying against each other, and heading back to the bar for more water.

while you’re on the dance floor some girl bumped into you - she’s obviously very drunk. the two of you are making small conversation, you blowing off her apologies for hitting you. amidst you little conversation, the beat drops into ‘treat me like a slut’ causing you to shoot back around to billie in amazement.

you’ve both agreed before that this is a song that will always make you feral, no matter the situation.

the ghost of slutty past takes over your body and you turn your body so that your back is now to billie. she knows exactly what’s about to happen, so she grabs onto your hip with one hand and uses the other to push your head down so you’re bent over in front of her.

immediately your back arches and your ass starts jumping. you shake ass against billie - her hands occasionally grabbing a handful of you, or her hand pulling down your skirt for you (she’s more concerned about your modesty than you are right now).

billie crosses her arms so they can hold your opposite hip, and begins to thrust into you. you catch on to her rhythm, and sync your ass so it bounces as her hips meet yours. with your hands on your knees you turn your head and look up at billie - a submissive look in your eyes.

she says nothing but smacks your ass and uses your hair to pull you upright again, the front of your bodies flush again. billie wraps her right arm around your waist and uses her left hand to coax your head towards her mouth. she swerves, though, and whispers “careful, princess” in your ear. you gasp slightly, only loud enough for you to hear, but billie feels you tense under her touch.

[sturniolo04]

i’ve got a request!! nick and the triplets’ little sister (y/n) go to a billie eilish concert and she sobs her ass of during TV and nick comforts her!!

A/n:  ofc! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I made it into a small blurb I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

Dividers: @issysh3ll

You couldn’t believe Nick had scored concert tickets to Billie Eillish and surprised you with them for your 20th birthday! You and Nick had always had a close bond because you guys just seemed to like the same things. Same style. Same foods. And same music hence the concert you were now on your way to with him and Madison Beer.

“Ahh I’m so excited”

You squeal as Madison giggles at your excitement as you all are in the Uber heading to the venue. You and Madison decided to go with a matching concert fits

“It should be fun”

Nick chuckles out as you guys pull up to the venue hopping out of the car.

The concert was everything you could have ever dreamed of. Being there with your brother and your best friend made you extremely emotional and sentimental about everything you have in your life and how blessed you were. As you were nearing the half way point of the concert the intro to TV  started playing and that was one of your favorite songs you never expected to have the reaction you did but all the emotions and feelings must have gotten to you.

“And I will be in denial for at least another while”

You scream/sob out the lyrics and that’s when everything hit you all at once you immediately leaned your face in your hands sobbing.

“Are you crying”

Nick questions loudly dude to the volume in the venue. When he didn’t get a response he knew you were. He immediately starts to console her by leaning his head on top of yours.

“Aww bae”

Madison coos out leaning her head on your shoulder. You guys continue to sway to the song.

“I love you guys so much’

You sob out honestly grabbing each of their free hands squeezing them lovingly and sincerely.

“We love you too”

Nick replies leaving a soft kiss in your hair.

"so so much"

Madison adds on mimicking Nick's actions as well.

Taglist

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