#and dad puts her blanket in my room every year

[potentialheartofdarkness]

i’m forced to go home for christmas where it’s just me in the house cuz my brothers out at his gfs and my dad goes to bed and it’s just me in a house filled with terrible memories and I wish i didn’t have to be here :)

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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[star2fishmeg]

ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ

[25.3k] Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | summer houses and situationships. For three years straight everyone had to watch Quinn and y/n be more than friends but less than a couple until the curse of the lake house stirs the pot Warnings | 18+ smut, childhood friends to situationship to lovers, swearing, the Tkachuks-, underage drinking, insecurities (appearance, self-esteem), dry humping, protected p in v, suggested blowjob, jealousy, angst, making out, creepy behaviour towards y/n, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl), fingering, fluff Authors Note | my canucks pint glass arrived and i really put my whole megussy into this. Based on this after hours! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes ♫ objects in the mirror - mac miller  [small worlds masterlist]

The Hughes lake house had some sort of curse to it. One that turned hot summer days, even hotter and changed the trajectory of relationships. Quinn and y/n could go through the school term smoothly, balancing homework, hockey and hanging out without stress, distracted by their friend groups until the summer. But one foot on the lake house driveway and the atmosphere would shift. Hormones would surge, and suddenly, all that mattered was who liked who, how good they looked and if they were missing out on core experiences. Something about that lake house confining them just stirred the pot too well.

Y/n L/n had lived next to Quinn Hughes since she was a child in a quiet neighbourhood in the suburbs of Toronto, where surviving winters became second nature, where watching hockey became second nature due to her father’s unhinged passion for the sport that flowed through the genes. Her mother never really understood it, but her children did, resulting in the winter’s plans revolving around the hockey schedule, but bumping into Ellen Hughes next door, she came around. 

Ten-year-old y/n sat on her front porch step, huddled in her thick coat and hat while the cold bit her nose frozen. It had finally stopped snowing, the one day in January when it hadn’t snowed once, not that they needed any more, the houses constantly blanketed in white, driveways and roads shovelled and gritted clear every morning. She could’ve been building a snowman with her little brother and dad, watching TV with her mum in the warmth of the living room, or even sledging with her friends as she had originally planned. However, instead, she sat stiff, but happily, on the step and watched the Hughes boys play hockey on the road with their two beaten-up goals, sticks and a plastic ball (it used to be a puck but since Jack sent it straight into her dad’s car door last year, Jim sent the terrified boy over to apologise and told them to use hollow plastic balls while on the road). She smiled brightly the whole time, listening to the ball rattle and skid along the concrete, and Quinn scolded Jack for being too rough on Luke, who had no choice but to be the goalie, being the youngest of the three. Fortunately, she’d never had to have that experience, but Luke’s lip wobbling and Quinn pulling him into a hug was like looking into a mirror, reminding her that she had a six-year-old brother to take care of. 

She’d been too focused on watching her brother fuss around with her dad, both attempting to roll the snow into their snowman’s head to notice the first time Quinn approached her. His boots crunched into the grit along the path, two hockey sticks in his hockey-glove-clad hands and stopped a small distance opposite her sitting figure. She looked up at him, almost startled that he’d approached her after ten years of being neighbours, his chubby cheeks flushed pink and tufts of brown hair sticking out from under his Maple Leafs beanie. Many days, she’d watched him from afar, out the window or school, observing his comforting demeanour in nothing but adoration like a little puppy; whatever Quinn was up to, her curiosity was piqued. Now he’d seen her physical being and why her heart raced was confusing and nothing she’d felt before.

“Would you like to join us?” he asked politely, holding one of the sticks out. That’s what he was, the quiet and polite brother, she’d noticed that at the neighbourhood barbecues at least, compared to Jack, who, while Quinn softly offered her participation with heaven in his eyes, yelled at the top of his lungs for Quinn to hurry up. The middle child, the loudest child, but the one with the biggest smile and brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

“Uh,” she pursed, “yeah, but I don’t know how to play.” She lied, of course; she knew how to play, but the boys were so much better than she was and looking stupid wasn’t part of her ego; she was the eldest daughter, and failure wasn’t an option.

“It’s okay, I’ll teach you.” he giggled and let her take the stick, patiently waiting for her to follow him. Stick in hand, she followed, gaze never leaving his face.

“I don’t have any gloves either.”

Quinn halted, spinning on his heel and tucking his stick under his arm. He took her free hand, gently pulled it towards him, and un-velcroed his glove, “Use mine, it’s better your hands protected from Jack.” He repeated for her other hand, flashing a smile before heading to his brothers.

“Y/n’s playing?” Jack piped up, she nodded, “Cool! Now we have a goalie so Luke can play!”

Quinn scowled at him, “No, we have even teams. Y/n’s the oldest so she can choose her teammate.” He wasn’t wrong, she was just about older than Quinn, not by much. 

“I pick Quinn. He’s gonna teach me how to play though.” The choice wasn’t much of a surprise to Jack, he may have been nine but the moment his brother stopped their game - a rare occurrence -  and laid eyes on her, he figured that Quinn’s priorities had shifted and all of a sudden their trio would develop to a quartet. 

Jack let out an elongated whine, “She doesn’t know how to play? Quiiiiinn!!”

“So? We didn’t at one point.” Quinn asserted in his stern tone. That was the last complaint Jack made. He watched his older brother teach her visually with patience; hand positioning on the stick, stance how low she needed to be, how to shoot and manoeuvre the ball, praising her passing to him. Luke and Jack watched quietly, the latter not too convinced she was a beginner at what he was watching but Quinn had never smiled that softly before, not even with Luke, and never had that level of patience with them. Seeing how encouraging Quinn was being, either way,  Jack knew exactly what kind of hockey player he wanted to be. 

Five years later Toronto still wrapped itself in its white blanket, pinching civilians with its cold hands and being a safety hazard to the roads for no real reason. Y/n had grown to hate it, not because she didn’t think it was beautiful, but because she missed the months when she didn’t have to spend five minutes just layering up before she could leave the house. What she didn’t hate was watching her brother be forced into shovelling the driveway. Her father and Jim seemed to have formed this alliance involving the youngest doing manual labour before school, and let Quinn, Jack and y/n watch and sit smug. Jack said it was because they skipped hockey practice to go to the arcade, which although no one would say aloud, she knew that it was her brother’s idea, that’s just eleven-year-old boys. She and Quinn neither confirmed nor denied the story, even if they had known about it the whole time, Quinn even heard them talking about it and y/n caught them at the arcade on their hands and knees scavenging for coins.

What had changed in those five years was life itself. Fifteen years old, the age when classmates' growth spurts became the bane of every parent’s existence, boy’s voices dropped and cracked and when everyone suddenly cared about everything about anyone. What they were wearing, how big their chests had grown, if it was normal for tummies to fold when they sat down, who was dating who, where the term ‘slut’ was thrown around casually, who was hot and who was not, what was cool and what was cringe - the whole ordeal that tore teenagers up inside.

Y/n hadn’t cared too much for what she wore, or how she looked until a couple of girls at school pointed out that wearing graphic t-shirts and cargo trousers made her a boy (which was absolute bullshit, but one person’s insecurities become someone else’s in adolescence), and that having a few spots on her skin meant she was ugly. And if it wasn’t girls tearing each other to shreds over minor things such as that, then it was the boys in constant competition with one another to be ‘the alpha male’, as Quinn described to her. The other thing about the situation was that someone had projected the idea that boys and girls simply can’t be just friends. And if by chance the two groups were, the belief was that one of them was secretly in love with the other, or they were using them to get to their friend or learn how to impress. Fifteen-year-olds really couldn’t decide if they wanted to kiss or kill each other on-site. Y/n knew what she wanted, but wasn’t sure if she was allowed to want it. Her friends asked her regularly; ‘do you prefer Jack or Quinn? Who’s cuter?’, to which she never replied, at least twice a month. 

Bang. Swipe. Bang. Swipe. Bang. Y/n and Jack shot pucks into the net consecutively like clockwork. With Luke and her brother at practice (this time) and Quinn out with friends, she and Jack were left to entertain each other. Usually, the eldest Hughes would’ve been the one shooting pucks with Jack, but the more y/n joined him, the more Jack preferred rallying with her. 

Jack took a firm shot, the puck darting but bouncing off the crossbar, thumping into the fence, and chipping the wood, “Oh come on! We had such a good thing goin’!”

She only giggled and watched him gather pucks to start rapid firing to make up for it. His eyes shined, a fire burning in them as he went on. She knew the girls fawned over him, worshipped him like some prince despite never speaking to him. She knew they thought he was pretty, she knew he was pretty with a charming smile and that Jack used to navigate his way around school. But on the ice that didn’t matter. At home that didn’t matter. Those girls would never know Jack, they’d never know that the moment something's wrong he’d run to Quinn, never know that he’d do anything for Luke and most importantly they’d never know that he and y/n spent more time together than either of them let on. 

“Are girls and guys your age allowed to be friends?” she blurted out, staring blankly at him. Jack lowered his stick and turned to face her.

“What?,” he said, dumbfounded at such a random question to ask on a Saturday afternoon, “Why wouldn’t they? Someone say somethin’ to you? Someone makin�� fun of you and Quinn? Did Quinn say anything?” 

He may be a little brother, but he was also, someone’s older brother. The way his boyish smile dropped and jaw tensed, the grip on his hockey stick tightened, how could anyone not think Jack Hughes was cute? 

“No, no- Quinn’s fine! Just that kids my age say that they can’t. That one of them always likes the other. But hearing what you said makes me realise it’s just dumb.” 

“Well, you’re a girl, I’m a guy and we’re friends, right?” his body relaxed, and he turned to shoot pucks again. Hockey mind, hockey heart. Y/n watched him momentarily before rejoining him, sweeping a puck from the pile between them and whacking it at the net. “You and Quinn are friends too, right?”

As she lined up her stick to take another shot, she paused, her mind draining, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she took the shot, Jack following with a toothy grin, “Rowdy, do you think your girl friends are pretty?”

She’d thought about it regularly if it was acceptable to believe your friends were attractive or if you had to believe they weren’t. It was hard to deny that Hughes had strong genes, Ellen was beautiful after all. Luke still had the cuteness of youth, barely grown into his features, Jack owned the blue eyes and pretty smile of a prince but Quinn? The dark curls and quiet nature was his forte. 

“Some,” he shrugged, “Quinn thinks you’re pretty. He likes your t-shirts and laugh.”

Y/n froze and looked at him bug-eyed. He snitched on Quinn so casually, like the weight of his words wouldn’t unleash butterflies into her stomach. At the same time, she tried to process the information, she couldn’t help but be curious to know what kind of conversation went down for Quinn to admit that. 

“My friend, Trevor, thinks you’re pretty too, but I think he just likes your boobs. Oh, one of Quinny’s friends said he’d take you, whatever that means, but Quinn literally yelled at him. I have never seen him so close to hitting a guy.” 

Trust Jack to spill all his friend’s and brother’s secrets, she’d expected nothing less from him. Quinn getting so riled up over a comment wasn’t on her bingo card, he wasn’t the kind of guy to react aggressively let alone hit someone, he rarely fought in hockey let alone outside of it. The other two comments didn’t mean half as much as Quinn’s, teenage boys were immature and violently horny, but processing what Quinn’s friend had - allegedly - said did bring a nauseating feeling in her stomach, but she didn’t think any of his friends would ever say anything like that out loud ever again, not while Quinn was around at least. 

*

Thirty minutes. Quinn had gotten home from practice thirty minutes ago and her phone hadn’t flashed once. Thirty minutes of constant checking for his name on her screen, although nothing new. He always texted her after practice, letting her know he’d be home if she needed anything, but this evening he hadn’t. If it were anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye, but she watched their car pull up on their drive, she watched Jack barrel out but hadn’t seen Quinn. While she waited, she completed her homework, milked Vine dry, and scrolled Instagram and YouTube wasn’t hitting. Y/n sighed, tossing her phone onto her bedsheets, grabbed her plaid pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt and concluded a shower should ease her mind.

It didn’t. She dropped him a text but to no surprise, it sat unread. Her stomach stirred, her gut feeling wailing sirens and adrenaline swirling through her body. Looking at the time, 19:48, and weighing out the decision that he was only next door, y/n slipped a hoodie over her head, threw her trainers on and crept out the front door to the Hughes. If he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him, prepared for whatever mood or situation he was in. 

She knocked gently twice, knowing she wouldn’t be waiting long since Jim was a prompt door-answerer. Even so, the breeze was nippy, her hoodie not doing much to hold her warm in the evening chill. The lock jolted from the other side, but Jim didn’t stand before her this time, it was Jack, who couldn’t have made it more obvious that his nerves struck him by his wide eyes and faltering jaw as if he were trying to get the words out.

“Is Quinn home?” 

Jack, stepped back hesitantly, letting her shuffle past him and into the hallway, “Uh, yeah but he’s pissed. Like, really pissed. Mum’s already tried to talk to him but…just be careful, remember that anything he says when mad, he doesn’t really mean.”  

She nodded, heart hammering in her chest as she carefully made her way up the stairs, tiptoeing around loose hockey gloves. The wall was covered in family photos and awards, y/n always noticed the photograph of all three boys standing outside last autumn, Quinn wearing the grey hoodie that was glued to him, Jack in full burgundy (hat and coat too) and Luke in a Michigan University fleece that looked a little big on him, all refusing to smile. The landing upstairs was fairly simple, the stairs being in the corner, and the corridor being a long strip. Luke’s room at the front of the house facing out into the street, Jack’s on the left side opposite Quinn’s, whose was on the right next to the stairs and Jim and Ellen’s at the back, facing into the garden. Considering they were neighbours, her house layout differed entirely, but after many years of running in and out, she memorised the rooms.

Standing outside his door, she knocked softly and waited for approval. She knocked again but also received no answer. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, she turned the handle and poked her head through the crack. He’d heard the door click, stuffing his navy sheets into his face as she padded in quietly, closing the door behind her. The pounding of her heart stayed, her palms becoming clammy seeing the state of his room. It was never tidy, but the laundry hamper being kicked over was new. His collection of hockey sticks that he was adamant to keep upright had toppled to the floor and going by the skewed photo frame on his wall indicated that he’d slammed the door harder than he meant to. Sending his sulking figure a glance, she repositioned the photo. One where the two of them sat in her living room, huddled together wearing - Quinn’s - Maple Leafs jerseys while watching the game. 

“Fuck off, Jack,” his voice barely audible, “If you’re here to chirp, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Quinn felt the mattress dip beside him, “Not gonna chirp you, Q.”

He shot up, the duvet whipping towards her to uncover a dishevelled Quinn, hair tousled and t-shirt crumpled from hiding under his covers for so long, “y/n? Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” 

Whatever sour mood that intoxicated him washed away and was replaced with concern strangling him. His eyes widened, he’d completely ghosted her, too wrapped up in his self-wallowing, stomach dropping at how close he was to taking his frustration out on her too. He ran his hands over his face, the giggle she let out soothing his mood like a warm embrace.

“I’m good. But a little bird told me you’re not,” taking his hands into her own, she pulled them into his lap, “You wanna talk about it?”

His gaze softened, shoulders slumping but heat rising in his neck as he kept their hands in his lap. She was so cold, although not far, she still came to him in thin pyjamas while the cold raged in a bitter attitude. Her thumb circled over his knuckles, attempting to calm him but instead of his heart finding a slow rhythm, it thundered in his chest unbearably. 

He shrugged, “Not much to say,” his jaw opened, fumbling to get the words out, “I don’t know, practice just went to shit. Felt like I could’ve done more, got screamed at by coach, alone, I was sloppy…but don’t pep-talk me, mum’s given me like, five.”

Y/n watched the light in his eyes fade, his voice becoming raspy the more he spoke about just a bad day. But a bad day was never a bad day with Quinn, it was the weight of the world crushing his shoulders as the oldest, and prodigy. If he slipped up once, it meant he would keep slipping up and let everyone down, let himself down until nobody believed in him anymore. She got it. She empathised, one of the only people in his life who could read his mind, dig into the crevices of his anxieties and ease them with just her existence alone. The more their skins held contact, the more fuzzy he felt inside, like a thousand flowers blooming in his chest at once.

“Wasn’t gonna. C’mere,” she held her arms out, letting him melt into her for a much-needed hug. Much needed indeed, Quinn’s arms hugged her waist tightly, burying his nose into the hollow of her neck while her fingers carefully threaded through his thick hair. Every insecurity that ate him up flushed away like the world had frozen and it was just the two of them, on his bed, wrapped up in each other with a confusing lightheadedness between them. Feeling his face nuzzle into her shoulder, her lips twitched into a smile and planted a chaste kiss on his hair. She realised she had done that seconds afterwards, as if she’d done it on autopilot but it was something she’d seen her parents do when seeking comfort, and she’d watched it on TV shows. Nerves choked her, hoping Quinn wouldn’t find it weird and shove her away, yelling all sorts of horrible things and never wanting to see her again. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled their bodies backwards into his mattress.

Unwrapping her arms from his shoulders, she propped herself up, hands either side of his head while his hands sat loosely on her waist. His throat dried and he gulped, y/n’s nose ghosting his, eyes meeting before darting away to each other's lips, only to scan features. Her ears burned, the butterflies in her stomach storming and in that moment she accepted that she did and could find Quinn Hughes attractive. His hands on her body, his captivating eyes, the brown curls, the mole on his right cheek, plump lips slightly parted. The way his awful mood was sidelined when he knew it was her in his bedroom. All in her grip, right in front of her.

“Come back,” he mumbled, arms snaking around her waist firmly. Y/n nodded, licking her lips with adrenaline surging through her veins. Did kisses mean anything? What did it feel like to taste another person? How did kisses work? There was only one way to find out, and she had the opportunity clawing for her, “Stay.” 

She lowered herself onto her elbows and tucked herself into his chest, her ear pressed against his pectoral, listening to his nerves pulse rapidly and laid her hand flat on his chest. They shimmied around, untucking the duvet from their bodies and pulling it over themselves. Quinn’s hand slipped into her pocket, sliding her phone out and placing it on his nightstand. She should’ve told her parents where she was, but with enough faith Ellen or Jack would say something. That was the last thing on her mind, the biggest crisis that set all alarms off inside her head was that she was cuddling a boy for the first time. She was sharing a bed with a boy. And she liked it. Perhaps more than she should have, this was her childhood best friend, a boy she’d grown up with, and although properly known for five years, had spent almost every day with him. 

Quinn’s eyes fluttered closed, a small smile creeping onto his lips yet he could never describe the mayhem that stormed in his stomach. He almost kissed his first and best female friend. In his bed. Alone. Where no one would know about it. He wasn’t ready to try and forget about it yet, move on and hope she wouldn’t think he was using her or thinking she was easy. His friends had said he was lucky to have a girl friend because it meant he could get whatever he wanted, not that he agreed with that stance. He held her close and firm, relishing in the company of another while it lasted, and before his parents would give him an earful about it.

*

Valentine’s Day was far too meaningful for teenagers, at least in y/n’s mind. You’re essentially celebrating a relationship that’s likely to end by the end of high school but acting like it’s the live-all and end-all. Or maybe she just didn’t understand the feeling or concept. No one had ever asked her out or asked her to be their Valentine before. She watched a couple of her friends go through it, one being over-the-top romantic with a bouquet, card and gift and the other being underwhelming, being nothing but a few words and a box of chocolates hand-me-down. He could have at least bought the chocolate himself instead of using one another girl gave him. 

With the final bell ringing a few minutes ago, the hallway was finally empty, only y/n and a few other students left at their lockers. She had time, her dad wouldn’t arrive for another seven minutes to pick her up since the Hughes boys left pronto for practice. She fished through her locker, checking for any love letters that could have been posted through the vents but to no surprise, nothing out of the ordinary. Did Quinn receive anything? Did other girls like his brooding demeanour like her? Did he accept any confessions? That hit her in the gut, hard. He wasn’t hers but why did thinking about sharing him make her blood boil so much? Exhaling sharply, she slammed her locker shut, only to come face to face with a guy who resembled Quinn, but instead of blue eyes his were brown, and his bone structure had chiselled out faster. He leaned against the lockers, arms folded and flashed her a smile. She thought she recognised him, he played on the same team as Quinn and Jack. His name wasn’t important (she couldn’t remember), but she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive. 

“Hey y/n,” she smiled at him, “So uh, this ain’t easy but you’re hard to catch alone.”

“Can I help…you?” she bit her lip, the pit of her stomach becoming tight and tingly with his eyes never leaving hers.

“Just wondering if you’d wanna grab smoothies this weekend…like a date?” he didn’t speak softly like Quinn, he was loud and almost expectant. She wondered if he would pay, or if she had to. Quinn always paid, and always knew her order too. Even if she didn’t ask him to, he’d do it. Snapping back to the situation at hand, her breath hitched. She needed to stop thinking about Quinn. He wasn’t Quinn and the latter had nothing to do with him. Perhaps agreeing would get him out of her head. 

“Uh, sure but-” before she could finish, two of his friends burst out from around the corner, high-fiving and laughing like deranged hyenas. The guy in front of her also started laughing, looking down at her with a condescending glint in his stupid eyes.

“YO! That’s twenty bucks!” his friend yelled to the other, slapping his hand out, “Told you he’d do it!”

“Shut the fuck up, you got lucky! He caught her when Quinn wasn’t around.” The other grumbled, dropping the cash into his hand. 

The guy at her locker laughed, “As if anyone would ask you out, be real, y/n.” And all three left, karma soon hitting them at realising hockey practice started ten minutes ago. Y/n stood frozen, emotions swirling and nausea she could only describe as a whirlpool of humiliation and stupidity. She should’ve listened to her gut when it raised red flags.

As if anyone would ask you out, y/n.

He caught her when Quinn wasn’t around.

All she wanted was Quinn now, to run and squeeze him, but instead, she had a quiet car ride home with her dad to get to.

Quinn pulled his gear off aggressively, chucking his helmet into his stall, almost shoving the gear into his bag, disregarding how expensive the lot of it was. It was one of those days where he wished he could leave his stuff at the rink. He spoke to no one and no one dared talk to him, not even Jack, who’d warned his friends to lay off the chirping. When he’d overheard his teammates proudly laughing about what they’d done to y/n in the hall, his offensive-defensive playstyle switched to straight-up bloodlust with poison in his eyes. Now even in the locker room, his jaw clenched harshly and the other boys swore they could feel the rage radiate off his body. 

“Yooo, Hughes,” Locker Guy mused casually, a shit-eating grin smeared across his face, “why so worked up? S’just a game.”

Everyone eyed each other, although he was referencing hockey, Quinn was not in a hockey mood. He approached Quinn, throwing his arm around his shoulder while he packed the last of his stuff away.

“Silent treatment? Damn, didn’t know it meant that-”

Before he could finish, Quinn swung, right-hooking his cheek. Locker Guy stumbled back, cupping his cheek with wide eyes. He was stunned, the room was. Not even Jack had seen him hit a guy before, and Quinn didn’t think he would until then, but the adrenaline and aggravation just got the better of him and he’d seek revenge in any way if it would be for y/n.

“Take the twenty and shove it up your ass,” he slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his stick, “y/n’s not just a game.” And he stormed out. Jack bid goodbye to his friends, sloppily grabbing his bag and stick before stumbling out after Quinn. 

When arriving home shortly after, Quinn dumped his bag in the hallway, ignoring Ellen’s voice calling for him, Jack did a good job at covering for him. He burst into his room, rummaging around his desk for a post-it note, scribbling his mind on it. Pulling a small box from his school bag, he stuck the note onto it and rushed out of his house as fast as he’d rushed in.

He rang the doorbell and pounded on the door but to no avail. Her parent’s cars were absent but he knew too well that she had nowhere to be on a Tuesday evening. Groaning, he jogged to the side gate, rattling the handle and pushing it open, listening to it creak and click behind him. He didn’t bother sneaking around, the security light bright enough to illuminate the entire garden for anyone to try. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry, he would’ve taken more time to appreciate her mother’s handiwork: flowerbeds of pansies waiting for their time lining the fences, he remembered planting a few before the snow season. Quinn reached the back porch steps, walking up with a light foot and trying the back door. Locked. Of course. Spinning on his heel, he swore under his breath, completely jumping down the three steps and taking a short right to find the trellis on the wall.

“Mrs. l/n, I sincerely apologise for this, once again,” he mumbled, taking the box between his teeth and carefully placing his hands and foot on the wood, hoping that he hadn’t crushed any of the flowers weaved through. He slowly climbed until the porch roof came to his level. Thanking the heavens that the pitch was low, he used all his upper body strength to hoist himself on, ensuring his footing was secure, taking the box from his mouth and creeping up to her bedroom window. 

Y/n sat on her bed, cosied up in her pyjamas and laptop playing YouTube, anything that would redeem the afternoon she’d had, but nothing could prevent the tears from spilling out her eyes when the memory of it flushed over again. Her parents had gone out, and her brother went to his friend’s for dinner so she lucked out on being left alone for the evening, she didn’t feel like discussing how her day went. The quiet car ride home was enough, even though her dad knew something was wrong. 

The screen on her phone flashed, and she would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t flashed a second time immediately after.

Qutie At window pls open It’s cold

“The fuck?” she whispered, drawing her blind and sliding the window up, watching Quinn clamber his way into her room. She hastily wiped her eyes, “Q, you could’ve just knocked?”

He straightened out his clothes, closing her window, “I did. And tried the back. And here I am.”

“Oh…sorry,” she bit her cheek, “Q, I’ve had a bad day, I’m not really-”

“-I know. I know what happened, and he won’t think about it again,” he paused, peering down at the box in his hands, “actually he won’t talk to you again.”

“What did you do?” she asked, stepping closer with her arms folded, the sun breaking through her grey clouds after the storm.

“It doesn’t matter,” with a gentle smile and rosy cheeks, he held the box of chocolates out to her. Her gaze jumped from him to the gift in her hands and scanned the note stuck on top, the words written in red with little heart doodles. Her lips twitched upwards unstoppably and the blossoming warmth spread through her body and soul again.

Will you be my Valentine? - Q

“Sorry I didn’t give it to you earlier, I got swept up. I saw you looking at these the other day, it’s not much but I wanted to-” his speech was interrupted when she threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his torso tight and muffled ‘thank you’s just audible. 

Holding her close, he grinned, “-Anytime.”

*

That summer was the first year Quinn took y/n to the lake house in Michigan. If Jack was allowed to bring his friends, he refused to endure that alone, like Luke had to. Luke begged her brother to be his plus one, but he’d been swept up by his friends too soon. That was also the first time y/n met Cole and Trevor, the two Jack constantly talked about. They didn’t go to the same school as them, he’d met them through hockey camps and they didn’t sound too bad. Quinn always warned about Trevor, something about being a yapper but worse. 

Coming face to face with the lake house, y/n hadn’t expected it to be as large as it was, she didn’t really know what to expect when Jim described it as having a games room in the basement that had access to the garden, a first floor that had a beautiful view of the lake from the porch and a second floor with five bedrooms. Yet there she was, standing on the driveway admiring the blue and white home as she’d never seen a structure that big before while Quinn, Ellen and Jim unloaded the car. 

“Y/n!” Jack called. She turned towards his voice to be met with two other boys, “This is Trevor,” he gestured to the taller one with tanned skin, “and that’s Cole.” The shorter one.

“Ah, Trevor, the one who likes my boobs,” she recalled, raising her eyebrow at Trevor, who elbowed Jack in the ribs, muttering a ‘dude!’. Cole chuckled at the embarrassment creeping on Trevor’s face, “s’chill. Not the worst thing I’ve heard but definitely something best kept unsaid.”

She may have been okay with it, but a certain brother listening in was far from okay with it, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the suitcases and his brows knitted deep on his forehead. 

*

She tossed and turned, frustrated that her eyes refused to stay closed. Every time, she’d fallen asleep, the thunder outside clapped and jolted her awake again. If it wasn’t the weather hammering down keeping her awake, it was Trevor’s snoring from the bed. Herself, Trevor and Cole ended up sharing the spare room, the boys in the double bed and y/n opting to take the mattress on the floor (she refused to lay next to either of the boys, even if that meant sacrificing the space). 

As she lay facing the ceiling, she weighed out her options. She either stay there and have the thunder throw her into a wall and have Trevor’s snoring rattle through her bones or find somewhere else to sleep. The living room was one option, but Jim was an early riser and she didn’t enjoy the idea of being woken up by plates and pans crashing around. Then there were the boys’ rooms. Luke also snored, she knew that first-hand from the journey to the lake house, kid snored like a champ the whole time. Jack wiggled too much, a true duvet twister, waking up with pyjama bottoms to pantaloons. And Quinn, well she knew he was perfect, warm and an incredible cuddler. It wasn’t a hard decision.

She poked her head out the door, peeking left and right. The spare room was on the right-hand side, next to the staircase, while Quinn’s sat at the back left corner. Slipping through the gap, she shut the door silently behind her and tiptoed down the hall to Quinn’s room. 

His room looked identical to his Toronto room, blue-grey walls, dark oak furniture and navy sheets, but less hockey. Quinn was a peaceful sleeper, never appeared irritated but his hair was always messy somehow. Y/n slipped under the sheets with him, rolling onto her side to face him. He stirred, snuggling into his pillow and his eyes fanned open. His eyelashes were longer and thicker than she thought, why did boys get that gift but not girls? 

“Hi,” she whispered, sleepy gazes locking.

“Hi,” he rasped, voice deeper than usual from being riddled with sleep, “can’t sleep?”

She shook her head slightly. Quinn smiled, opening his arms, rolling onto his back and letting her slot herself into him like a puzzle piece, her head on his chest. She listened to his heart, the rhythm syncing with hers as it lulled her to sleep, Quinn’s arms loosely around her, but enough to confirm that he had her and was still there while the weather screamed and cried outside.

At sixteen, y/n obtained her first boyfriend, Leo, which surprised her and her friends. Not because they didn’t think she didn’t deserve him, but because he was the complete opposite of Quinn and because he wasn’t Quinn. Blond hair, green eyes, chatty and outgoing, always referred to her as ‘princess’ and could be a likeable guy. Except her friends never asked if he would like to hang with them. They never asked if he’d like to sit with them at lunch. Rarely had interest in him and he had no interest in them. They tried to talk to y/n, but her head was too far on cloud nine to hear them. Of course, she took it to heart. They loved Quinn, so why couldn’t they love Leo the same? 

The Hughes boys clarified their view on her relationship from the start. Not because they were haters or didn’t like seeing their friend happy, but because Quinn’s glares burned holes. Jack and Luke simply hated him because he spoke shit about hockey, almost on purpose the moment he found out the four of them were close, and because he seemed to irritate their big brother. Quinn refrained from gagging every time he saw the couple together at school, a pang in his chest stabbing him always. But she was happy, and that’s the part that stung the most.

Her brother ignored him on the rare occasion he came over. He was a huge Quinn guy, and having anyone but him in his house felt wrong. Like a parasite invasion trying to take his sister away, he wouldn’t let her ride home with the boys in his thirteen-year-old mind, Leo always insisted they hung out after school. The first time Leo came over for dinner, her brother ensured he displayed all the photographs of the Hughes family and his family together, especially the ones of y/n and Quinn. On another occasion he watched a movie with them, just to be annoying. Leo had tried to get y/n alone in the kitchen, hands on her hips and drawing her close, speaking sweet nothings into her lips and finding the panic in her face adorable. Their lips almost connecting, skin burning like wildfire until three, rubber pucks slammed into the targets that hung on the net in the garden, her brother standing proudly with his hockey stick in hand and side-eyeing the kitchen window, giving y/n time to catch her breath and gather her mind before the blond in front of her swore loudly.

What was everyone’s problem? Why wouldn’t they be happy for her? She was in love, a guy loved her for the first time in her life and she wasn’t even allowed to have that. Well, at least Quinn would be happy, and maybe she could convince him at least to let him join the lake house. Or she hoped. 

Quinn gathered the pucks out the back of the net, collecting them into a pile, the wrinkles between his eyebrows prominent. Y/n stood to the side, hands in her hoodie pocket, presenting her best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“No,” he said, shooting a puck into the net.

“Oh come on, Q!”, she whined, “It’s a chance to get to know him, he’s a good guy. Please, for meee?”

He stood straight, turning to face her, “Y/n, I love you and I’d do anything for you, but the answer is still no. There isn’t enough space and it’s my lake house, my summer too.” He hoped she’d give up and drop the subject. The idea of y/n and Leo sharing a bed soiled his mood as it was, he didn’t want the thoughts to develop further into what else they could do. If Leo joined, he’d be alone, he wouldn’t wake up with her at least once, she wouldn’t even look at him and his brothers would never forgive him. Everyone’s summer would be ruined.

She sighed in defeat, “He’s the first guy to ever love me, see me for who I am and everyone acts like he’s got the plague! Q, my dad gives him small talk, my dad!”

He stared, a burning stare that ignited goosebumps along her skin, the hairs on end. They’d looked into each other eyes before, but she’d never seen this kind of fire in him. His breathing deepened, chest rising and falling as trying to calm himself down, nostrils slightly flaring. 

“Is that so?” he cocked a brow, his tongue poking his cheek, “y/n, we’re happy for you, but we miss you. I miss you. I miss getting smoothies, I miss Star Wars marathons, shit, I miss watching you make a mess of my kitchen when Luke wants cookies.” He missed falling asleep with her, calling him at silly hours in the morning, organising his hockey cards together, seeing her wear his hoodies and jerseys, and hearing her laugh. 

Her face softened, absorbing his cries and guilt swirling in her stomach. She didn’t realise how his voice beat every song she’d ever listened to or how when he was hurting, his tone was soft-spoken. She forgot how much she loved that, and how no one - not even Leo - could replace it. 

“M’sorry, Q.” She hugged him, like usual. The tight embrace with her head in his chest, feeling his arms wind around her shoulders in return, nose finding solace in the crook of her neck and kissing her shoulder.

*

Leo never joined their summer. He was never part of it from the start. When y/n fell back into place with her friends and stopped bringing up Leo, so much relief washed over her daily. The mini-argument with Quinn had paid off because exactly a week before she and the Hughes planned to leave for Michigan Leo had bid his thank yous and goodbyes. She thanked him for nothing messy, but his last words (and reasoning) gripped her around the neck: ‘I don’t think I’m the one you love.’

The moment she stepped out of Ellen’s car, slightly delirious from sleeping on Quinn’s shoulder the whole way, her muscles relaxed. She barely got a chance to stretch before Trevor and Cole came bundling towards her, engulfing her into a group hug while Quinn took his usual duties of unloading the car. All the boys had grown over the winter, Luke grew taller far too quickly, Jack, Trevor and Cole’s voices had dropped and entered that awkward phase where it would break at random and Quinn’s shoulders broadened, his face chiselling out. Y/n felt like the only thing that had changed about herself was the growing number of insecurities. She was at a lake, meaning she had to wear the bikinis she’d spent hours picking out, completely forgetting that Quinn wasn’t the only guy around. What if they didn’t look as good as she thought? What if they were far from flattering? Things she shouldn’t let eat at her but always would linger at the back of her mind. 

*

She lay awake, facing the ceiling listening to Trevor’s snoring from the bed for the second year, but it was worse now his voice was deeper. How Cole slept so soundly was a mystery in itself. At least the weather was silent. Yet her mind could not quiet, the events of the week replaying like a tape, glitching on the last few moments and repeating Leo’s words. With a weight in her chest, tears welled in her eyes. She felt so alone and abandoned in a room with an overwhelming teenage presence. She threw the duvet off, shuffling off the mattress, padding out the door and sneaking down the hall.

Quinn’s door opened enough for her to slip into the room and tiptoed over to his bed, crawling under his covers next to him. His hair had gotten longer, messier and the more she looked at it the harder it was to keep her hands to herself. His cheeks weren’t so full anymore, but the back of her fingers still caressed his cheekbone with a feathery touch. Her smile faded, she hadn’t told him about the break-up, she was supposed to tell her best friend everything and she couldn’t even do that, no wonder Quinn hadn’t spoken much to her. He was in the dark and it was all her fault. But he didn’t ask about him. Maybe he was upset because she hadn’t told him? No, Quinn wasn’t like that, was he? Was he upset?

“Trevor’s snoring?” he mumbled, eyes remaining closed. He heard his door click and felt his mattress dip and nobody else would risk waking him. 

“Mhm,” she hummed, watching his eyes lazily open, “part of it.”

He rolled over, pulling her onto his chest and arms around her waist, “I got you.” 

Her tears soaked blotches into his t-shirt, little sobs slightly muffled by the fabric as his hand stroked her back slowly. He held her close, letting her cry whatever consumed her out of her system while reassuring her that everything was going to be okay in his gentle manner. He wasn’t entirely sure what was so troubling but he had a keen suspicion it had something to do with Leo, she hadn’t mentioned him for a while and a large part of him was fuelled with adrenaline and hope that he was out of the picture for good. It lit fireworks inside him, and he wasn’t ashamed about it. 

“He dumped me, Q,” she sobbed, fingers balling his shirt into fists, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Those fireworks inside him burst an array of colours, “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he said softly, “did he give you a reason at least?”

Her lip quivered, “He…he said he thinks that he’s not the one I love. I don’t know what that means! This sucks, Q. Sucks going from spending a lot of time with someone, having their full attention to just…not. Makes me gag every time I see my friends with their partners. I feel so…isolated, what do I do now?” 

Quinn’s lips fell into a straight line, hand still soothing her back. He knew he shouldn’t have been over the moon at the news, but God did he want to dance around his room and punch the air, maybe click his heels for good measure, “You want my opinion?”

He felt her nod, “You still have friends, and you need them more than a boyfriend. Have you thought about him since?” she shook her head, “Then there’s your answer. You miss the feeling, not the person. There’s someone out there who’s gonna love you tirelessly, treat you right and always come when you call. We’re only sixteen, we’ve got time.”

She thought about Leo, properly. She thought about how he spoke to people, and looking back she kicked herself for how she was too swept up in the feeling to realise how his charm was too enticing. She remembered the time he met Quinn, Jack and Luke for the first time, well Jack and Luke. He’d found out about their passion for hockey and openly shared how he thought it was ridiculous and an overrated sport, that all the players were mediocre at most. He told Jack he’d never make it to the NHL because it’s the sort of dream that stays a dream. Leo off the bat despised Quinn, calling him an obsessive creep when he walked into her house to retrieve Jim’s lasagna dish from her dad. Quinn ignored it, but Leo had seen all the photographs her brother put out, and proceeded to rant about how Quinn was just trying to add her to his body count. Quinn heard that, of course, he was only in the kitchen and if he was honest, he was flattered that Leo assumed he even had a body count. Then the kitchen incident flooded back like the rapids ride at a theme park. If her brother hadn’t interrupted them, she would’ve been kissed, but she didn’t want to kiss him and she knew that he enjoyed the fear in her eyes when his grip tightened. 

“Can I ask you something…” she peered up at him.

“Anything.” he looked down at her, voice just above a whisper. Her eyes had a glossy shine to them, even if they were red and puffy from crying, he still got lost in them.

“Can you say ‘princess’, for me?” 

He raised his eyebrow, but smiled anyway, “Whatever you want, princess.”

“Fucking hell it sounds so much better when you say it,” she groaned, burying her face into his chest, earning a chuckle from Quinn. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, too well like it was made for him. The worst part was the tingling sensation in her stomach which wound through her heartstrings. All despair was eliminated and, once again, Quinn had pulled her into his rip. They lay in silence for a little while, but neither drifted off to sleep, just lying in each other's company.

“He almost kissed me, Q.” she mumbled into the dark, Quinn’s green eye disturbing his peace, “but I didn’t want to kiss him, the vibe was off. And then my friends bugged me about it.”

She pushed herself onto her elbow, propping herself up and gazing into his sleepy eyes. His palms fell to the small of her back.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” an innocent question turned sultry by his brain, heat shooting to his neck.

“No,” his gaze fell to her lips, “have you?”

She denied it. One had cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip. She melted into his touch, heart pulsing in her ears. Deja vu burst into the room from a year before, where the last time she hovered above him she wanted to kiss him more than she should have. He parted his lips, the teenage boy inside him begging to peek down her shirt and his desperate longing to taste her colliding and dizzying his mind. Their bodies gravitated closer like a magnetic force neither could control anymore until their lips touched and two souls intertwined sweetly. It was an innocent kiss, aside from the accidental bumping of teeth, it wasn’t quite a peck but they relished in each other for no more than five seconds before pulling away with ease again.

“Can we do that again?” she didn’t need to say anything. She kissed him again, harder, longer, her hand sliding from his chest to his jaw as their lips fell into a pattern of connecting and reconnecting, elation surging through them as they fumbled into giggles. Quinn’s problem with kissing her was that no matter how much he tried to push it down, the craving to kiss her again clawed at him. All it took was a pretty smile and he could kiss her the rest of the night. Y/n’s friends bragged about their first kisses, who they were with and where it happened, but she held the crown for the first kiss in a boy’s bed and a meaningful kiss as the cherry on top.

*

Michigan’s sun roasted hotter than in Toronto, but it was a pleasant change from freezing all the time. The kind of heat that the boat’s seats would cling onto, and give you the worst shock of your life when sitting down, so when you sat down on the leather, you stayed down with sizzling skin. Although he’d been to the lake his whole life, Jack’s soul still left his body every time he threw himself onto the seats, usually blaming Quinn for not warning him. She was introduced to their boat last year, expecting only a small, fishing boat-like thing but to say her eyes grew so wide they almost popped out her head would be an understatement. She had limited knowledge of boats but her dad fished a lot so she picked up odd things from his raving, but the only way she could describe it was a traditional bowrider, with u-shaped seats in the back deck and bow seating. 

Jack and Luke had shoved past everyone and B-lined for the docks as soon as breakfast was over, Trevor and Cole not far behind and bundled onto the back seats of the boat. The driver’s seat was always left empty for Quinn, and the seat on the left side of the aisle next to the driver’s was always for y/n, furthest from the splash zone so she could read in peace. Unfortunately for Quinn and y/n, that also meant they were the ones lugging the cooler of water bottles through the garden and to the docks, handing it to Jack and Trevor while Quinn hopped in, holding his hand out to her and letting her make her way to her seat. 

A couple of hours being anchored in the lake, Jack and Trevor had three backflip contests, teaching Luke ‘how it’s done’ and Cole had won himself one hell of a sunburn. Y/n hadn’t taken her shirt off once, occupying herself by applying suncream to Quinn’s face and judging the backflip rounds. She mindlessly watched the four boys tussle around, pulling and pushing each other off the boat and playing in the cool waters. Something about this summer brought a yearning for adventure, maybe due to her age, to make memories or to distract herself from the sinful thoughts of what Quinn now looked like underneath his t-shirt. 

“I know you want to,” her head snapped to face Quinn, his voice dragging her out of her head, “I can see it in your eyes.”

She hugged her torso tighter, diverting her gaze to their feet. Was the first time wearing a bikini this terrifying for everyone? Maybe she should’ve started wearing them sooner. She’d be used to it by now.

“I’m not saying you have to, but,” he gulped, taking a deep breath. His next words could either earn him a smile or a slap, “I think you’re beautiful just as you are. And whatever those fuckers think doesn’t matter. Remember that you’re like a sister to Jack and Luke, they’ve got your back too.” 

A wide smile broke onto her face. Anyone else could say that and she wouldn't have batted an eye, but when it fell from his mouth like a song, the pressure was exiled from her body. Her fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Quinn’s view darted straight to her chest, the bikini top complimenting her nicely, but too well for anyone but him to see (or so he thought). He didn’t think twice about it, it felt pervy and wrong, but at the end of the day, he was just a teenage boy riddled with fluctuating hormones. At least he wasn’t as bad or proud as Trevor, that was the bar. The top was enough. She kept the little board shorts on. Maybe next year she’d be braver. 

“Your turn,” with a cheeky glint in her eyes, she leant forward, elbows on her knees and purposely pushing her breasts together. Caught red-handed, in the act, Quinn Hughes. His cheeks burned red, glancing at his brothers and friends (who were on backflip contest number four) and back at her, slipping his shirt off. She raised her eyebrows when he said he’d been working out more, he meant it. When their gazes met, they both knew that if they had been alone with all the pent-up thrill, they would’ve jumped for each other, let their hands dance, feeling every new curve and dip and melt into each other like wax, moulding to however they wanted. 

“Not too bad yourself-” Before she could finish, Jack rolled onto the boat from the back deck with a clumsy urgency, throwing his towel over himself and standing in a wide stance, panting as if throwing himself onto the boat took all his energy.

“Thanks dearest,” pant, “big brother of mine and,” pant, “his girlfriend. Wakeboard!”

Quinn and y/n burst into fits of giggles at the assistance but it fell on deaf ears, watching him clamber in was funnier anyway, especially since the other three people who could have helped decided to watch and laugh too. No one denied the second part of his sentence, it certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed, but it had been taken two ways.

*

When the boys were little, Jim and Ellen had reformed the basement into a games room. It had originally been decked out into more of a guest house, with a kitchenette directly under the stairs and opposite were the large patio doors. But they found more use for it with the boys. On the left side of the doors was a c-shape sectional sofa and a TV and to the right a fireplace with a scoreboard for the pool table, which sat in the centre of the room. The bathroom remained in the back right corner. Most of the time, it was only used for video games and pool, as the distance from the bedrooms meant their screaming and arguing was pleasantly muffled but as more people joined their holiday, more friends were made either at the lake or with hockey people who owned a house on the lake, the room got its fair share of usage and everything was sound.

Until the Tkachuk brothers arrived.

Matthew and Brady were Quinn’s friends, Brady being one of his best and knowing Matthew by default. The Tkachuk’s had recently bought a house on the lake, within walking distance of the Hughes but you could hear them before you’d see them. Y/n had first met Brady when Quinn picked him up from his dock one afternoon, and she had no trouble getting to know him, especially when it came to him showing her photos of all of Quinn’s embarrassing moments from before her era at the lake house, and ones during hockey camps. She understood why Quinn got shy when Brady doxxed him like that, but she found it cute either way and he just enjoyed his two best friends getting along.

The seven of them - Y/n, Quinn, Brady, Cole, Trevor, Jack and Luke - sat in a circle, in that order, on the floor, leaning against the sofa, a bottle of vodka and red solo cups between them. The four youngest sat with stars in their eyes, like Brady had bought a mythical creature over, y/n and Quinn exchanged quizzing looks, shrugging.

“Yeah, how did you get this?” y/n asked, picking the bottle up and inspecting the alcohol percentage. 

“Matt,” Brady smirked, pride smeared across his face, “one of his friends has a fake ID, and said he’d get me a bottle if I helped him get this chick’s number.”

“And it worked?” Quinn mocked, Jack, Cole and Trevor did their best to hide their giggles.

“Nobody can resist a Tkachuk,” he peered past Quinn to look at y/n, “it’s the pretty eyes and dashing looks, right y/n?” 

Jack and Luke side-eyed each other, holding back their laughter at Quinn’s pout. Y/n shrugged, giving boys satisfaction wasn’t something she enjoyed, and seeing Brady dramatically hold his hand to his heart and act offended seemed to lighten Quinn’s mood. 

“Can we crack this baby open now? I wanna get drunk!” Trevor cheered, Jack and Cole joining him. Something like that would be exciting for fifteen-year-olds, but (not so) little Luke stayed quiet, shrinking into himself next to y/n. She placed an arm around his shoulder, presenting him with a warm, reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, no one’s gonna force you,” she murmured.

“Come on, Lukey! Don’t be a pussy!” Jack taunted as Brady poured him, Cole and Trevor a small amount. Cole took his sip first, his face screwing up immediately and coughing at the burning down his throat. Trevor cackled, tapping his cup with Jack’s and they both swallowed theirs together. Like karma, Trevor wheezed and held his chest, face scrunching amusingly at the kick. Jack didn’t get off lightly either, his throat feeling like fire and he shook his head, putting his cup on the floor. The rest laughed, hard. The three musketeers were so confident just to have it backfire. 

Brady poured vodka into his, Quinn’s and her cups, grinning from ear to ear and placing the bottle back between them all.

Cup in hand, she nudged Luke, “Do you want a small sip?” 

He hesitantly nodded, taking the cup gently and letting a tiny drop cover his tastebuds. That was enough for him to jolt back and shake his head. The three eldest bumped cups and swallowed the alcohol in one go, Brady cheering like he’d won the Stanley Cup, Quinn doing his best to suppress the sour expression on his face and y/n exhaled at the flare descending her throat. She and Quinn side-eyed each other, stifling giggles. The rush brought back the rendezvous of her sixteenth birthday where her parents had treated her to a bottle of vodka, specifically instructing she only drink it around them. Hours later when her close friends arrived, and Quinn of course, that bottle and a carton of orange juice was shared between them and drank dry, her bedroom swarming with drunk teenagers hiding hangovers in the morning.  

“Wow, my first ever drink turned out to be…actually not as pleasant as I imagined.” Brady’s eyebrows raised, watching the three musketeers urgently agree with him. Quinn and y/n’s grins widened, and they fist-bumped. They’d finally discovered something they had done before Brady. He’d relentlessly teased Quinn with his experiences as he was older, but it was due to Matthew being older. Now, it was Quinn’s turn, he was finally the cool, older brother. 

“That was your first?” Quinn teased. Brady blinked twice, opening his mouth to speak but closing it, holding his fist out to Quinn instead. 

“You didn’t add a mixer, it’s more bearable with juice,”  she stood up and grabbed an orange juice from the fridge. Sitting back in her spot, she took Brady’s cup, poured a little vodka and topped it with the juice, stirring it with her finger, “now try.”

He took a sip, the orange juice slightly outweighing the alcohol and it didn’t tear through him this time, “Okay, you’re invited to every party from now on. Dudes, you gotta try this.” 

One empty bottle later the group found themselves slumped back and blurry-eyed. Luke had gone to bed, terrified of the consequences if he were still there in the morning. Quinn and y/n leant into each other, Jack’s head resting on her lap. Brady’s ass went numb from sitting on the floor, but he feared that if he stood up, he’d just meet the floor again but with a bruise when he woke up. 

At some point in that hour, Trevor suggested truth or dare, and being too tipsy to argue, they’d all been roped into it. The dares hadn’t been too bad, but as Brady slowly gathered his senses, previous conversations and events flooded back to his active memory. With his sights landing on Quinn and y/n, it was like his and Trevor’s minds intertwined. Calm and collected Quinn had been giggling at others too much throughout the night. Calm and collected Quinn who never seemed to be fazed by embarrassment for too long. 

“Jack, truth or dare?” Trevor asked absently. 

“Truth.”

“Ass or tits?” 

Y/n ran her fingers through Jack’s hair and rolled her eyes. Boys. 

“Easy. Tits. Next. Brady, truth or dare?” Jack’s eyes closed, body relaxing when her nails scratched his scalp.

Brady snorted, “Hah, dare!”

Jack paused, thinking about what kind of dare Brady would come up with, “skinny dip in the lake.”

“Dude, if I stand up, I’ll fall. I’ll do it next time we’re on the boat, swear it.” They chuckled, watching his head shake desperately. Nobody would have to dare Brady to do something like that, you could just suggest the idea and he’d be down for the sake of a story. Matthew had shared many stories of his adventures when he was his age, and Brady was determined to be as cool as him and live a wild life like every day was his last day on Earth. “Y/n, truth or dare?”

“Dare, fuck it. Be nice.” Her heart raced, the words falling out before she could think.

“I dare you to sit on Quinn’s lap for the rest of the game.” 

Quinn’s muscles tensed, cheeks flushing when Jack sat up. He uncrossed his legs and let her manoeuvre herself onto his thigh, curling up comfortably. Without much thought, his arms winded around her waist, holding her close. Even though he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, a small part of him sobered up enough to appreciate the buzz of openly holding her.

“Cole, truth or dare?” she watched Cole perk up, his eyes absent like he’d just woken up. 

“Show us a pic from your ‘my eyes only’ on Snap.”

“Favourite porn category?”

“Who was the better kisser, Jess or Sarah?”

“Okay Quinner,” Brady’s turn circled back, rubbing his, nonexistent, beard as he spoke, “Who do you currently have a crush on?”

Quinn’s stomach dropped. If he didn’t like Brady so much, he would’ve taken the question as a betrayal. When he told Brady about his and y/n’s bedtime kiss, it was out of confidence, with his full chest, at his most vulnerable. Never did he expect him to reference it in public, in front of her and his brother’s friends. He then realised that Matthew also, most likely, knew. 

“Gone shy?” the youngest Tkachuk smirked, the other boys suddenly sparking back to life and leaning in.

“No, just never thought you’d be into gossip,” he mumbled, giving the blond a cold glare. If his situation couldn’t have gotten any worse, y/n shifted dangerously close to his crotch and all he could do was keep her encased into him and pray his shorts wouldn’t betray him like his best friend had. 

“If you’re into gossip now, what about you? Tell us which girl at your school has your eye, describe her, what’s she like?” y/n blurted. It was like she read Quinn’s mind. Or the stress in his face. 

Cole, Trevor and Jack’s heads whipped between the three bicker, smiles dopey and rubbing their hands together.

“Deflecting? Didn’t think you’d get so defensive-”

“-Not getting defensive, I have nothing to defend, but if Quinn doesn’t wanna answer, he doesn’t have to.” 

It was a relief that it was just bickering and not a deep argument, God help them all if y/n and Brady ever fell out properly, his ability to chirp and her intelligent stubbornness would not be a tornado to interrupt. But her protectiveness squeezed his heart, making the situation he was always in dreadful. 

“Oh really?” Brady laughed, “What about you since you have nothing to defend? Who juices your lemons? Or is Quinner gonna grow a pair and admi-”

What an uncomfortable phrase to start with, and if she took too long to answer he’d just taunt her more. She wanted him to drop the subject overall, it didn’t matter, but humbling him would, at least, cheer Quinn up slightly, even if what she was about to say required a conversation afterwards.

“-Matthew Tkachuk.” The name shot out like a bullet through Brady. His jaw dropped and a smirk wiped off his face. He knew his brother was popular, but never had he met someone his age admit it to his face. He sat back, speechless. Her heart thundered, Quinn could feel it, see the panic in her eyes while Brady saw a threat. Jack, Trevor and Cole sat like deers in headlights in the silence which engulfed the room. Quinn’s grip around her waist tightened, his brows creasing but Brady watched the light in his eyes sink and his hold on her become desperate like she would slip away if he let go. 

The thick atmosphere collapsed when Jack shot up and bolted for the bathroom, Cole hot on his tail, “I think I’m gonna puke.” 

Quinn’s limbs sank deep into the sofa cushions, but his eyes stared at the plant next to the TV.  Jack’s stomach giving up surprisingly saved their friendships and shortly they’d decided it was time to call it a day, himself, y/n and Trevor taking the sofa, Jack crashing closest to the bathroom and Brady and Cole sprawled out on the floor. Even after the drunken result of a stupid truth game, y/n’s back was still pressed against his chest. Not Matthew’s. His arm was around her middle, his face was in her hair, and he was the one cuddling her. No one else, but the thoughts still spiralled. If she did like Matthew and not him, could he be that angry? Matthew was older, taller, better looking (Brady had mentioned how Tkachuk’s had ‘dashing good looks’ so what could he expect) and far more experience. Had she even met Matthew? When? Was she seeing him secretly? What if she was trying all these new experiences with him just to impress Matthew, getting in practice so, when she was to kiss him she wouldn’t embarrass herself, cuddling him so she knew what to do? The possibility that she was as affectionate with a guy other than himself made him sick to his stomach, it was like Leo all over again but worse. They were older now, progressed more and feelings devoured instead of nibbled, whirlpools instead of ripples. There were plenty of other boys besides himself, and maybe having a guy best friend became convenient for her. 

With a tear slithering down his cheek, he buried his face into her shoulder and planted a sweet, but sad, chaste kiss on her jaw, fighting off the urge to sob until he fell asleep. 

Seventeen was a big age for prime-time adolescents, not quite an adult but not a little kid anymore. Risk and rebellion went hand in hand and doing everything you were told not to do was in fashion, so when you went to college you didn’t look like a complete bore. It also meant relationships started getting serious, people considering college and the survival rate of long distance, who had broken up and who was still together. 

After last summer, Quinn and y/n breathed Toronto air and they fell back into place, as if the Vodka Incident, as they called it, had never happened. Quinn had all her attention again and spent the autumn and winter doing his best to keep it that way. It didn’t take a lot, she loved everything they did together, her new favourite memory being when Quinn took her to her first Maple Leafs game once he’d passed his driver’s license. He also kissed her in the car afterwards, slow with his hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing the denim on her jeans. When they got back to her house, he had her pushed down into her bed, lips smothering her neck in timid, wet kisses while her cold hands snuck under his shirt, sending chills up his spine in the most pleasurable sense. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing, but his secure grip on her hips had her writhing beneath him when he’d found her sweet spot on her neck, experimenting with a nip to the flesh and almost cumming his boxers at the mewl that slipped past her lips. Their hips rolled and ground into each other with hands tugging on shirts, exposed collarbones and sloppy kisses to sensitive spots. They hadn’t even properly made out yet and there they were, exploring each other like territory and right before any clothes could be removed, Ellen rang him. It was an evening neither would forget.

*

“I’m tellin’ you, dude, they are not ‘just friends’, look at ‘em.” Trevor gestured in front of him, raising his voice over the music. 

“Trev, I’ve known them my whole life, they’ve always been like this.” Jack groaned, taking a sip from his Coke. 

Under the strings of fairy lights hung over the audience and the weather warm and clear, Quinn twirled y/n, hugging her from behind as they sang the lyrics to the country song coming from the stage. When Luke saw the ad in the supermarket one afternoon, he practically begged his parents to take them all, and being unable to say ‘no’ to their youngest child, they agreed. 

Luke and Cole had a blast, trying every food stall they saw, rocking the cowboy hats and singing their hearts out. It was safe to say that Luke still had a lot of personality, and Cole revealed his love for karaoke. Y/n hadn’t been to many concerts before, the overwhelming crowds caging and the fear that she’d get split up was astronomical. As they’d made their way around, wrangling up Luke and Cole, hurling Trevor and Jack away from groups of girls way older than them, she had her arm looped around Quinn’s. Ellen ran around as their paparazzi, no doubt planning to print all the photos off and stick them in an album. 

“Are you hearing yourself, Jizzy?” Trevor deadpanned, as much as the god-awful nickname amused him, Jack’s slow-functioning brain at the moment matched the stupidity of it. 

Quinn’s arms around her waist, chin resting on her head and they swayed to the tune of the song, bright smiles and oblivion to the world around them. It was just them, imagining the lyrics were for and about them, speaking to each other so they didn’t have to muster up the courage themselves. 

“Yeah. Look, man, think whatever you want, the Tkachuks get here next week, and if I remember correctly, Matthew was a pretty hot topic last summer.” Jack couldn’t lie, he didn’t remember a lot from the Vodka Incident. He only remembered Brady’s brutal truths, y/n admitting Matthew was hot and waking up with a sore head with the taste of vomit and vodka in his mouth. He also remembered watching the tears fall on his brother’s cheek. 

*

She didn’t want to believe that she was the person looking back at her in the mirror. She pulled at the straps and readjusted the ties and bikini bottoms, to see if they would flatter her better in a new position. She spun slightly, viewing the back and chewed her cheek. Did her ass look good? The top wasn’t too slutty…was it? Too much cleavage? Not enough? Why was trying to feel hot such hard work? She threw her head back and sighed, circling her thoughts back to last summer.

I think you’re beautiful just as you are.

Shaking her shoulders, she slipped her tank top and shorts on, grabbed her towel and left out the porch doors. 

Beads of sweat rolled down the back of Quinn’s neck. He didn’t need to look behind him to know Jack had invited neighbouring girls onto the boat, he could hear them giggling. He zoned out, staring at next door’s deck deaf to the world around him. Was shaving the right choice that morning? What if y/n liked his growing, patchy beard? But what if she preferred clean-shaven? He watched the girls in the windshield’s reflection squeeze the boy’s biceps, complimenting their abs. They adored Luke’s cute face and charming smile. It sucked being thirteen and enchanted. Quinn kept his shirt on, he wasn’t built like the others, and his confidence surely didn’t need dismantling. His fingers tapped the steering wheel, lips pursing until he caught y/n running out the corner of his eyes, his lips perking into a smile as she sat in her seat next to him.

“Who are they?” she whispered, leaning over, his New York Yankees hat perched on her head. He only shrugged, starting the engine and pulling away from the docks. “Well, I guess it means we get peace, at least.”

So much for peace.

Mila, the brunette in the pink bikini, saw exactly what y/n saw. The way Quinn’s hand held the wheel, casually yet so controlled, imagining them grabbing and moulding her like putty. The veins that popped on his arms, perhaps even his thighs, but y/n refused to believe that anyone else was looking at his thighs the way she did; unapologetically hungrily. She leaned against the back of his seat, pushing her breasts up as much as she could into the top of his shoulders, taking a longer strand of his hair and curling it around her finger. 

“It’s so cool how you can drive this thing without an adult, when did you get your licence?” she asked. Quinn kept his eyes on the waters, lips falling into a deep frown.

“Fourteen, y/n also has one.” 

“Oh,” she tilted her head, “cute. So, do you live here or is this a one-time thing?”

Y/n squinted. She knew she shouldn’t have let it get under her skin. She knew she couldn’t control everything but was seething would be an understatement. Some random chick, putting her tits up against Quinn, touching him the way she does. If she could just trip and accidentally knock her overboard she would. 

“Live here in the summer.” His tone was flat, not anywhere near interested and his t-shirt clung to his back. A smile spread across Mila’s cheeks, she and her friends were only at the lake for the week and proudly admitted they were on the prowl for some fun. She arched her back, popping her ass out, hoping he could feel her skin on the back of his neck. Y/n huffed, letting her demons get the better of her and she tugged her tank top over her head and wiggled out the denim shorts. This summer the board shorts stayed at the house. 

He choked when he saw. His first time seeing her in almost nothing. He was used to tank tops hugging her tits and little shorts, but seeing so much bare skin now changed a lot. The benchmark was removing her shirt, and now he got the full thing, in front of his face, within his reach and confidently like she wanted his attention and his only. She’d spent years worrying about what others thought about her, and with a little threat, the only thing she now cared about was making Quinn fumble over his words and remind him whom he pinned against her bed before summer. 

“Mila, you look a little squished there,” y/n stood up, “take my seat, Jack doesn’t bite, promise.”

“But then where will you sit?” 

Y/n stepped over to Quinn and gave him a wink. He leant back, heart exploding when she sat on his lap, bare skins touching for the first time and the pit of his stomach surging hot, the fireworks re-lighting and tingling over his skin and to his muscles, lips immediately spreading into a grin. He tucked his arm around her waist, settling his hand on her hip, fingers hooking the waistband in the leg hole of her bikini bottoms. Mila’s eyes scanned her, receiving her message clearly before plonking herself next to Jack, who happily gave her the attention she wanted. Y/n wrapped her arm around his neck.

“No shorts?” he murmured into her ear, voice low and rumbly.

“Remembered what you said a year ago, and I think you’re also beautiful just the way you are.” She toyed with the collar of his t-shirt.

“You should sit here more often.”

“Maybe I will, Captain Q.”

They giggled quietly, foreheads touching lightly and he kissed her hairline playfully while the backseat passengers caused havoc with the wakeboard, begging Quinn to let them show off their ‘skills’.  

In four days the Tkachuks would arrive. That’s what kept Quinn up at night. He had four days to muster up his courage before she’d slip through his fingers to the better man.

*

They watched the ball fly far, Jim standing proud with his arms folded in a wide stance, as dads do. Trevor high-fived Cole, throwing up an ‘L’ shape with his fingers at Jack. The middle Hughes puffed his chest out, placed his ball on the tee and positioned himself, re-gripping the club. He drew back and swung, watching his golf ball fly out into the distance. Y/n watched from the side, recording their turns for them like they’d asked, a smile on her face. Jim took them to the driving range after Jack complained that video games were becoming boring, and neither Trevor nor Cole had been to one before, and when four boys were bursting with energy, how could Jim say turn down such an opportunity? 

Y/n hadn’t played properly before either. Quinn had only taken her to crazy golf, and that was as far as her experience went. None of this correct positioning and firm swings. Though it was comforting watching Cole and Trevor not have a clue either, Trevor was a fast and eager learner, and Cole was just bad but there for a good time.

“I can show you how to do it if you want.” Quinn stood next to her, leaning down slightly with a low voice. When did he get so tall? She tilted her head up, the club in his hand sent her back to her childhood, the exact day she sat on the step with Quinn holding a hockey stick out to her. “It's your summer too.” 

She nodded and Quinn hooked his little finger with hers, leading her to the grass and placed a ball on the tee. She copied Jack’s stance, letting Quinn stand behind her, chest to her back as his arms engulfed her, hands over hers on the club.

“Draw back like this,” his breath hot on her neck as he drove the club back, “and then you swing. Just like we do. Yeah?” 

Her stomach fluttered, concentration droning in more on his voice vibrating through his chest. She nodded, licking her lips and the caged animal inside her chewing at its bars.

“Good girl.” He stepped back, letting her go. With his eyes glued to her figure, he watched her body take a breath, drawing back and taking a decent swing. For a first go, it wasn't a bad swing, not perfect but good enough that Trevor groaned about how unfair it was (he missed the ball the first time). 

“This is literally the first day we met all over again,” Luke said to his dad, who raised his eyebrows, more shocked that he remembered that day since he couldn't even remember his birthday half the year. 

The group next to them left, but the gap was soon replaced by a new one, a louder one consisting of late teens. One of them didn't stop walking, the blond one with curls and a mullet, and pretty eyes on par with Jack's. 

“Quinner! Jim! Fancy seeing you here.” Matthew Tkachuk, Brady's suave, crazy older brother and his posse who stood just as awkward as the Hughes and co.

Y/n shuffled to stand with Quinn, pressing into his side ever so gently. He placed his hand on the small of her back, smile fading into a frown while his dad chatted and brothers and friends continued their practice.

“Is that Matthew?” Quinn couldn't begin to describe the electricity that flowed through his veins upon hearing that she didn’t know who he was. However while part of him jumped with joy, the other part spiralled further and pressure added to his shoulders. There was absolutely nothing to stop Matthew, or his cooler, older friends from snatching her, and him, weak, little Quinn, trying to keep her in his rip was laughable. If it wasn’t Matthew (unknowingly) getting daggers, it was his friend in the back. The athletic one eyeing y/n shamelessly, nudging the blond in a cap next to him. 

“Anyway, nice bumping into you. See you fellas, Quinner,” He shot her a wink, “y/n.” 

Her face flushed warm, and she gave him a flirty wave before they disappeared into the office. Jim ushered his boys and friends out, Quinn remaining silent when he drove himself and y/n to the house, not even her hand on his thigh could cut through the thick atmosphere. 

The rest of that afternoon Quinn shut himself in his room, undisturbed. His family huddled around the campfire, making s'mores and the boys sharing their day with Ellen. Y/n prodded at the fire, adding more wood and sat back in her chair, glancing up at Quinn’s bedroom window. The light was out, blind and curtains drawn, fiddling with the drawstrings of her shorts. She didn't feel like eating any more s’mores, she lost her appetite with the empty seat next to her and overbearing twisting in her gut. The Tkachuk’s voices echoed from houses away, and she never thought she’d dread hearing their laughter until then. 

She didn't knock on Quinn’s door. She just let herself in, joining him in the sheets and laying on her back. His breathing was heavy, he opened his eyes and rolled onto his back.

“What’s up? You haven't said anything since we left the driving range.” She mumbled.

“Nothing.” Her head turned to look at him, unimpressed. Feeling the shift, he peered over his shoulder before rolling his eyes, “Didn't like how he looked at you.” 

He faced her, scowl softening, noses painfully close. His eyes fell to her lips, hand cupping her jaw and glazing his thumb over her soft skin. The twisting in her gut dissolved into heat pooling in her stomach, desire rising with every stroke of his thumb. 

“And how did he look at me, Q?” She rolled onto her side, rubbing her foot along his leg.

His breath shuddered, and his voice dropped to a rasp, “Like he wanted to devour you.” 

Shimmying closer, her hand pushed against his shoulder to lay flat on his back again. His hand never left her jaw, their lips closed in, ghosting each other as she propped herself up on her elbow. Getting jealous over a look, the way Quinn himself looked at her when she pranced around in her bikinis, hooded eyes and a lazy smile. 

“So, the way you look at me, Quinn?” Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” His voice above a whisper, laced with nothing but provocation for someone to do something, for he couldn't take the aching in his cock forever. “I won't do anything you don't want me to…what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to devour me.” She whispered into his mouth, his lips hitting hers with force, pulling her body on top of his and another hand, slipping up her shirt and exploring the curve of her spine. A low moan emitted from her throat, his tongue running along her bottom lip and impatiently tasting the sweet melted marshmallows from the s'mores when she granted him access. It was embarrassing how lost she was; taking a backseat wasn’t in her system, but something about Quinn's tongue dominating and lapping at hers just made her seams burst and soak her panties then and there. It didn't matter how he knew what to do, or if he was just going with his instincts, the way his hands kneaded her flesh like dough drew whimpers from her throat and with a carnal desire racking her bones, she rolled her hips into his, paying extra attention to his cock stiffening in his shorts as it bumped her cunt.

“Don't stop,” he groaned, hands gripping the globes of her ass, “feels s'good.” 

He kissed her again, bucking his hips up into her. Her hands slid to the hem of his shirt, tugging the bottom up. Quinn hesitated but sat up, keeping her settled on his lap but hastily pulling the clothing over his head. It was like all the insecurity of not being hot enough washed away with the way she was dry humping, aching for his dick, finally alone for them to misbehave. 

She smoothed her hands over his chest, solid and defined, her fingers tracing over his collarbones and stomach as if he were a sculpture in a museum. Sure she'd seen him shirtless on the boat, but this was different. This was for her eyes only, she was allowed to touch and feel his skin and muscles contract and relax as she savoured every last drop of him. 

“Wow…” She muttered, the pad of her fingers joining his moles with an invisible line like a constellation.

“Don't say that, I'm not like Jack…or Trevor.” His gaze couldn’t meet hers. He didn't have a six-pack, a tiny waist or any sort of boyish charm to him. “Nothin’ special.”

She gripped his cheeks between her fingers, forcing him to stare into her eyes, “And yet here you are, in bed, with a girl who wants you to do disgusting things to her. You're special to me, shouldn't that be all that matters?”

Y/n let his face go, pulling her shirt over her head and discarding it somewhere across the room. She ran her hands down her chest, his eyes following as they travelled over her curves and to his hands. Taking them, she cupped his palms over her breasts.

“Take it off, Q,” She batted her eyelashes at him, his cheeks flushing, “I want you to touch me. What do you want?”

He slid his hands to her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra and watching with an intense and desperate stare as the underwear fell from her arms, tits bare and in his face and the clothing launched into the dark. They felt so soft in his palms, squishy and so soft. He rolled her nipples with his thumbs, watching her eyes shut and mouth part through his eyelashes. He couldn't wait to feel them against his chest finally. 

“I wanna be the first guy to know how you feel around his cock, how you taste. I wanna be the guy you see when you're all alone, fucking yourself. I wanna hear you scream my name.” He pulled her in again, kissing her rough and messy, his hands leaving no place on her skin untouched and groping at her tits until he had her whimpering for more. With a groan rumbling from his throat, he flipped them over, hovering over her face of lust. Her pussy throbbed, and when his fingers pulled the bow on her shorts loose, she swore she would have cum right there.

“Can I?

“Yes, please.”

“Please what? I need words, pretty girl.” A flash of confidence washed over him, and he wasn't sure where it came from but his best guess was his core.

“Please fuck me, Quinn,” She gasped, rubbing her thighs together, “Please be the first to fuck me. I need you.” 

Diving into the column of her neck, he trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her collarbones and the valley of her breasts, taking one into his mouth and rolling his tongue over the nub. His other hand groped and squeezed, pinching between his fingers while she mewled like a song to his ears. 

Releasing her with a ‘pop’, his kisses graced her hot flesh down her stomach and finished just above the waistband of her shorts. He gazed through his lashes, and sat on his heels, wiggling the shorts down and off her legs. He couldn't help but stare, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” his voice airy and in awe, tugging his shorts off and tossing them aside. “All mine.

“All yours,” she repeated, propping herself up on her elbows. “Have you ever fingered a girl?”

He shook his head, hooking his fingers around her panties and pulling them off, taking in the privilege of being the only one to see such a pretty sight before him.

“Only seen it in porn, the basics.” He positioned his fingers, middle and ring, just to prove it. She smiled, taking his wrist and guiding him to her folds, gliding his fingers between them until he got the hang of it. 

“That's it, now rub my clit, firm but gentle.” He followed, taking her advice and circling her clit, peering up at her for reassurance. He got it, he knew he was doing it right when she collapsed back into his mattress, whimpering. Moving to hover over her, fingers gliding through her slick to the correct hole (he only knew from various conversations about the anatomy of a vagina she'd given, so he wouldn't look all that bad) and sliding one finger into her.

“You're so fucking wet,” He smirked. A quick learner, indeed and much too indulged in her spongy walls as he pumped his finger, “Princess, do I do this to you?”

“Yeah,” She moaned. His fingers felt so much better, more filling. “More, please.”

He added a second finger, drawing them in and out, curling, and he knew he was doing it right; she was writhing and whimpering beneath him, one hand fisting his sheets and the other locked on his bicep. His thumb nudged her clit on accident, but the way she arched and moaned had him circling it. She couldn't formulate a coherent sentence with the way he thrust his fingers into her, moving faster as she’d cried. Quinn still couldn't believe the position he was in. His naked best friend, underneath his almost naked body, with his fingers inside her pussy, hoping to make her cum and lose his virginity. All while his family sat outside without a clue. 

“Shit, like that-” she bucked her hips to match his pace, “So good, just like I dreamt, Quinn.”

“Oh yeah? You dream about…me?” He grumbled, his voice low.

“Yes!”

The knot inside her stomach tightened, her cunt clenching and swallowing his fingers like they were made for him. It had her wondering what else Quinn could do to her, how else he could make her cum, because the way his fingers curled as if he was summoning her climax was dizzying. Who knew that out of everyone, it would be Quinn making her squirm, Quinn's name slipping from her lips as his fingers stroked her walls and had her begging for more, Quinn causing her eyes to become half-lidded with a lazy and coquettish smile, plaguing her thoughts with dirty desires on how many other ways she could clench around him. 

“Gonna cum, Quinn,” She panted, squeezing her eyes closed.

“Anything you want, princess. Anything.” He pumped faster, her core relaxing and his fingers blessed with warmth leaking from her. He pulled his fingers out slowly, eyes locking with hers as he placed them on his tongue, tasting her flavour.

“You taste amazing,” He licked his fingers clean, a small spark of hope for the future inside him. “How was it? You okay?”

“I’m great,” She giggled, catching her breath, “With more practice, you’ll be a pro.”

He kissed her, y/n's tasting herself on his tongue, her hands in his hair, tugging at the curls on the nape of his neck. Something inside him screamed to stop before he became addicted, he needed her. He needed her in high dosages all the time, to feel her, to taste her, to have his tongue lap and suck hers and let their saliva intertwine like their bodies. He wanted to mark her up and call her a work of art. 

He pulled his boxers off and left kisses over her collarbones.

“Do you have a condom?” He did, actually. Only two that Brady had slipped him the day he told him about the first time they kissed. Quinn leant over and rummaged around his nightstand, y/n running her hands over his body, specifically grasping at his hips. Something about men's hips was so…sexy. She couldn't explain it and didn't need to because Quinn kneeled over her, erect cock on display and y/n, without thinking, gently took it into her palm. His hands trembled when she gave him a couple of strokes, in awe at what she was seeing. 

“You're so pretty, Q,” She kissed his tip, “all mine.” 

“Yeah,” He rolled the condom on, “all yours, baby.” 

Hand latching on the back of his neck, she pulled him on top of her, giving him time to line himself up cautiously before pushing himself in. Her jaw dropped wide, a gasp leaving her body and his head snapped to her.

“Shit, I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, it's just…new, keep going.”

He slid in until bottoming out completely, her head tilting back as her walls adjusted to his size. She had no judgment, but he felt good and maybe, just maybe he'd grow to feel amazing. There was only one way to find out. 

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.” He fell to his elbows, face hiding in her shoulder.

“Move, Q, please move,” She whimpered, “feels good!”

Quinn rocked his hips in a languid motion, back and forth, back and forth, his lovesick euphoria fuelling his stamina. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and whined in his ear, all he wanted to do was keep driving into her just to hear her ecstasy flourish. To feel her pulling him into an embrace of wet dopamine walls. Hooked on the feeling, he thrusted faster, groaning at the way she whimpered every time he pushed back in and his body surged with heat when her tits bounced against his chest. That was it. Just their bodies together. Together doing what nobody they knew had done before. Fucked their best friend, their person. Her Quinn and his y/n. In his bed, at the lake house, his cock plunging into her cunt with a luscious desperation serving the two teens a paradise of stimulation.

“Fuck!” He groaned, planting kisses on her jaw and her lips, “Say my name, pretty girl.” 

“Quinn,” if she could scream his name she would have, but hearing the low moan in his ear was enough for his hips to pound faster, “gonna cum, Quinn.��

She wrapped her legs around his hips, cock reaching deeper and the shockwaves of the angle feeding into his excitement. She was latching onto him like he was her lifeline, moans and grunts blending like a chorus the harder and more his hips rutted into her pussy with crude greed. No, it wasn't perfect, it was sloppy and beginner, as expected. But for the first time, y/n's cunt swallowed every inch of Quinn possible. Skins slapping and his cock hitting her cervix as she'd dreamed of, his voice in her ears, eyes steady on hers with a primal yet loving gaze as they worked through it together, tits bouncing with every rut and smiles bright with adoration at the reality.

“Cum with me,” he took her lips into his, tongues finding their rhythm as his thrusts lost theirs. “Taking me so well, princess.”

The pool of heat in her core was scorching, her seams of lust on the brink of bursting, Quinn's last few drags of his cock hitting the sweet spot right and a carnal, airy moan rang through his ears, her legs almost shaking. He took her through her orgasm, sticky cum filling the condom, his energy depleting, his hair sticking to his forehead but a fire still burning through his body. He wished he could have seen the display, seen the way she coated his cock creamy. 

He collapsed onto her, not pulling out just yet, he'd do that when his energy regenerated. For now, he lay chest to chest with his head tucked in the crook of her neck, her fingers running over his back muscles delicately as they caught their breaths. She could have stayed like that forever, his voice chanting shameless grunts and sweet nothings like a mantra replaying through her head, refusing to forget the image of him over her body in the most despicable way. What else could they do now? What more? She couldn't resist the temptation of thinking about his kinks, what got him going? What did she do that riled him up? Did he know that his arms were delectable? That she loved when his shirts got tight around his chest? 

“Did I hurt you?” His voice broke the silence.

“It hurt at first slightly but it's okay. You didn’t hurt me.” She smiled, one hand moving to stroke the back of his hair. “Are you good?”

She felt his grin against her neck, “I feel fucking amazing. You feel fucking incredible. You look so pretty, y/n. Always.” 

He was babbling, the comedown still holding onto him. While she did believe every word he said, was it in the moment or forever? She couldn't tell. She wouldn't know. But what she did know was that she didn't regret a single second, and wouldn't change it for the world. And that having him nestled inside her was comfortable, in the most filthy way. 

Quinn pushed himself onto his elbows, giving her a chaste kiss on her lips, “As much as I love this, I gotta clean us up and put clothes on before someone ruins it.” 

*

No one did ruin it. No one even questioned why they were in the same room, y/n waking up to his lips on her neck, leaving butterfly kisses until she'd grab him by the cheeks and kiss his face all over. That was the perk of sneaking into bedrooms for so long, people expected to see her emerge with Quinn, frothy toothbrushes hanging out of mouths and wearing a t-shirt that definitely wasn't hers (and he loved that). Back when they were fifteen, Jim had scolded Quinn for falling asleep with her, even if they did nothing. He received the uncomfortable teen pregnancy lecture that ruined the moment. It was the moment he realised that he would give anything to wake up next to her all the time, her face to be the first thing he saw and to start his day tangled up with her. Ellen wasn't as harsh on him, she knew her eldest wasn't irresponsible like that. Y/n hadn’t received a lecture at all. Her mother asked brutal questions on what they were up to, but her father just said ‘As long as you're not preggers’. He knew his daughter wasn't a fan of children so why would she be irresponsible? But now at seventeen, they’d really done it. And no one would know about it. And the sacrifices they'd make just to wake up next to each other every day. She'd love to see him in his disoriented, brooding state when she woke up, and if you asked Quinn or his family, she'd be the only one brave enough. 

With a dopey grin, Quinn's arms caged y/n into the kitchen counter, pressing himself into her, lips attached to her neck. Since that night, the urge for action became unbearable. The next week was pure sneaking around, making out in empty rooms, subtle touches under tables, hands travelling up clothes indecently far and bedtime shenanigans kept at a low volume. Like now, in the empty kitchen, rolling hips into each other and lips connecting and reconnecting with needy tongues tasting whatever their last drink was. What originally started as grabbing plates and fruit for the neighbourhood barbecue quickly melded into hips being shoved into the counter and being kissed breathless. 

“We can't do this here.” She lightly pushed him off her mouth, hands placing themselves on his pectorals, flat and copping a feel. His hands fell to the small of her back, eyes shifting to the blue bikini top he knew she'd worn just for him.

“Then let's go somewhere we can, pretty girl.” He said playfully, pulling her back to him. 

“Q, the barbecue. The Tkachuks will be here soon and Jim wants you to grill, he won't let Trevor near it again.” She slipped from his hold, taking the bowl of fruits off the counter and leaving through the porch doors, swaying her hips. He clicked his tongue. Matthew and Co would be there soon, but at least she hadn’t swept him under the rug.

When the Tkachuks did arrive, it was more like the Tkachuks and friends as Matthew’s posse also turned up. Not that anyone made a fuss, the Hughes were all for parties, especially ones that brought their kids together. 

One of the girls from Matthew's group, Layla, joined y/n at the garden table, which was arranged beautifully with snacks and plates. Y/n had barely heard the girl approach her until she saw her hand move the bowl of pretzels out of the way for the fruit bowl, and when she looked up she just blinked. Layla was gorgeous, with large, cat-like eyes lined with mascara and pin-straight blonde hair thrown into a bun. 

“Must be rough being in a house of guys all summer, eh?” She smiled softly. 

“Sometimes, s'not always bad. We have fun but the snoring is awful.” Y/n returned the smile, fiddling with her fingers. 

Layla held her arm out, “Come, have some girl time today. Boys are exhausting.” 

She wasn't sure if it was because she agreed with Layla, or if it was because an older and much cooler girl was inviting her willingly to hang out with her, but she looped her arm with Layla’s and was led to Matthew’s group. They were spread out on the outdoor sofa, drinks perched on the table and in their hands, laughing obnoxiously at assumably an inside joke. Y/n skin crawled a little, only a small smile across her lips as the nerves swarmed like a storm. Layla led her to the sofa, and she sat between her and the athletic guy from the driving range. He now wore a backwards cap and plain t-shirt. Nothing special but his name was Colton, going by the name tag that stuck out the collar of his shirt. Although in new territory, the other two girls wearing bikini tops and shorts brought a small dose of solidarity and comfort. At least she didn't stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Y/n! Glad you could join us!” Matthew's proud voice called from the other end of the L-shaped sofa. Her smile widened. Brady was right, Tkachuks did have dashing good looks but up close, Matthew was pretty. Very pretty, too pretty. “Colt, Zack, Ashley, this is y/n, y/n, Colt, Zack and Ashley.” He pointed to each of them.

Matthew was Matthew, pack leader and had a determined glint in his eye. Zack seemed too laid back for his own good, his blond hair still hidden under his cap, Ashley just waved quietly, knees tucked to her chest and Colton? Colton had the same brooding look as Quinn, but his eyes wandered a lot. And his facial hair was patchy. 

“Yo, you’re Quinn's girl, right? From the range?” Colton’s grin wasn't as charming as he thought it was, but his voice was. Gravelly, nice on the ears, not too loud but not mumbled. 

“I mean, kinda but we’re not together-” y/n began, nails scratching her collarbone.

“-nice, thought I recognised you.” 

“You guys will love y/n, Brady talks about her all the time. Did you know they almost fought?” Matthew mused like an excited puppy, even though the fight he was referencing was barely a fight at all. His friends raised their eyebrows, surprised that someone other than Matthew had raised their voice at a Tkachuk. 

“Matt, it was over vodka, it was barely a fight. He’s such a dramatic ass.” Not entirely true, again but rather that than the truth of what it was really about and how it ended. 

Matthew raised his hands in defeat, and Zack laughed. “Surprised Quinn even joined in. Usually, he’s the one huffing off.” 

She rolled her eyes, “He’s alright, fuck off. And it wasn't his first time either, he handled it a lot better than Brady.”

Quinn and Brady stood at the grill, flipping the burgers; Brady in his usual playful manner but Quinn with aggravation, like he wanted to hurt the burgers, charcoal them. They stood in silence, watching y/n with the older Tkachuk and his friends treat y/n like royalty across the garden. Quinn's grip on the tongs so tight his knuckles turned white, his glare sharp as she giggled. Her laugh echoed out through the garden, her real laugh that came from her stomach, the laugh he only heard when it was just the two of them. He flipped the burgers, his brows knitted and lips in a stone-cold frown. How she got so comfortable so soon was beyond his brain, but then again, perhaps the presence of other girls made it better, did she find being cooped up with guys awkward? 

“Quinner, you're staring. It's creepy.” Brady said.

“Am not staring, looking out for her.” He flipped the sausages.

Brady glanced over at his brother, with an almost worried look on his face. Y/n seemed…happy. She was chatting with the girls, poking fun at the boys but she was fitting into their summer nicely. Quinn looked over once again, his skin becoming hot and jaw clenching.

“I know what you're thinking. Matthew wouldn’t do something stupid like that. He may be an asshole sometimes but he's got morals. Besides, he's got the NHL, he wouldn't do something that could ruin that for him.” 

“Sorry…I just,” Quinn sighed, “I'm not used to not having her attention. We've spent almost all of our time together, and it's just…weird. Wanted our little group to hang out and shit. I dunno what's wrong with me dude. I hate when she looks at them like they're the best thing ever. I hate when someone else's name comes out of her mouth, I can't stand the thought of seeing her with someone else.”

“Then why not ask her out already? ‘Cause that sounds a lot like jealousy to me, Quinner.” 

“Why would I be jealous of them? It's complicated.” Quinn grumbled. Truth be told, he didn’t know how she felt. If he got rejected, he'd have to see her every day and act like nothing ever happened. He wouldn't kiss her again, touch her again, hug her again or wake up with her again. He'd be on his own, pining over the girl who didn't want him.

“Whatever, bro. You miss all the shots you don't take. But don't worry about Matt, believe me.” Brady shrugged, and they both watched the group from afar.

“It's not Matthew I'm worried about anymore.” Quinn gritted his teeth and made a mental note that he wasn’t the violent sibling and that punching people wasn't the solution anymore. He watched Colton throw his arm around the back of the sofa behind y/n, leaning in close. And when he thought his worst fears couldn't get worse, they definitely did.

Y/n retracted her shoulders like a frightened tortoise. She really was stuck between Layla and Colton, getting up and suddenly scuttling away just caused a scene. There was only so much fake laughter she could take before it became a chore, Colton had zero humour to his looks, but boy could he sweet talk. Throwing his arm behind her, thumb rubbing over her shoulder while compliments spilt from his mouth and into her ego. Quinn called her pretty all the time, but having a boy other than him call her flowery names released a new batch of butterflies. 

Colton's lips in her ear, mumbling with his husky tone, “Blue's your colour, y/n, anyone ever tell you that?” 

She shook her head. Such a liar, she was such a shameless liar.

“I hardly believe that, like how I don’t believe you when you say you've only had one boyfriend. Pretty girls don't just have one.” His eyes relaxed and became half-lidded, but her tummy flipped and hands clasped together in her lap. He was right. Pretty girls don't have just one boyfriend. They have a guy who calls her pretty girl but she doesn't know if she's just the token female or something meaningful. 

“Only the one. Not a lot of guys think I'm pretty, Colton, not any relevant ones at least.” Her eyes darted to the girls, but they were too caught up in conversation, not even Matthew or Zack could catch her message.

“I think you're pretty.” Colton's finger hooked around the strap of her bikini top, running it up and down the string, “Am I relevant?” 

The attention ignited fires along her skin, jolts of electricity throughout her nerves. An older guy thought she was attractive, that was new. And exciting. But also wrong. And felt like a betrayal, cheating, even if she and Quinn weren't together. But the attention and thrill, guys her age never begged for her, never looked at her the way he did. Even Zack agreed with Colton, proven at the driving range. For the first time in her life, she felt desired, hot. If she could get Colton, who else could she get? 

Before she could make her move, Brady's voice bellowed, informing her that food was ready. Better luck next time.

It's called late-night shenanigans for a reason. And this time as soon as the adults had retreated to bed, Matthew and friends plus Hughes and friends had red solo cups lined in a triangular formation on the garden table, music softly playing in the background while the porchlight gave them enough visibility. Their favourite game, beer pong. With cups full to the brim with cheap beer. The teams split as anyone would have expected them to, and no one made a fuss. 

Team 1: Matthew, Quinn, Brady, Zack, Trevor, Cole Team 2: Colton, Layla, y/n, Ashley, Jack, Luke

Forty-five minutes into the game Team Two (Colton's Canines) were leading. Team One (Matthew’s Hotshots) weren't far behind but Cole and Brady had a terrible aim for hockey players. Y/n's aim was almost too good, but her best-kept secret was that it wasn't her first beer pong game. This was why she was one of the least drunk people standing (Jack and Trevor barely able to stand, Jack doing his best to keep the beer down) aside from Luke, who was only allowed one cup given he was thirteen. 

Brady stumbled to the table, ping pong ball loosely held in his fingers as he lined up his shot, his stance wide to stabilise himself as the world pulsed around him. He would've been alright if the cups contained just beer, but he was the first to discover that it was beer in some cups and vodka orange in others. How it went unnoticed was a mystery, but you're only young once. Brady made his shot, the ball bouncing once skimming the rim of the cup, and missing. Colton's Canines cheered, y/n laughed manically at him, throwing up her middle finger jokingly. Layla retrieved the ball, lining up her shot, releasing but also missing, the other team cheering in return. 

Jack and Trevor's turn rolled around. Colton's Canines with four cups left and Matthew's Hotshots with two. Trevor poked his tongue through his lips, eyes trying to concentrate on the cups in front of him. He hadn’t been this drunk since The Vodka Incident. 

He winked at the girls in front, “Watch this ladies, a kiss if I get it.” He threw too long and missed. 

“Nice one, Trev. That first kiss isn't coming any time soon.” Y/n jested, shaking her head. The other girls giggled.

“Hey, I’ve kissed girls!” 

“Mhm, first time I’m hearing about this, what about you Jack?” 

Jack nodded, “Sure, sure. Anyway, my turn!”

Jack cracked his knuckles, positioned himself and took the shot, the ball bouncing once and landing directly into the cup. The Canines cheered, y/n and Jack throwing their arms around each other and jumping in a circle. Layla and Ashley gave the middle Hughes pecks on his cheeks as he watched Trevor down the cup of beer. One cup to four cups.

Y/n stood opposite Quinn, a bright smile on her face and his lips couldn't resist returning it. They couldn't help it. He didn't think, nor did he hype himself up. If there was one thing Quinn had learnt, it was that Brady was right. You miss every shot you don't take. And so he threw the ball and watched it bounce into a cup with a smug grin, the Tkachuk brothers hooting and hollering. Yet, his eyes remained on hers, gently. She chugged the drink and wiped the remnants from her lips with the back of her hand. 

“When did you get so good at beer pong?” She laughed.

“I had a great teacher.” He shrugged, y/n acted shocked even though they'd been beer pong buddies at every party. When they were split this time, it pained them a little. Being pitted against each other was frankly like the end of the world, never in their lives did they enjoy being out of sync. 

Y/n held the ball between her fingers, closed one eye and lined her shot. Large hands inviting themselves on her hips, Colton's voice in her ears and his breath unpleasant on her neck. If she weren't the centre of attention she would have jolted away, but the win was so close and Quinn’s arms were not so far. The ball bounced into the Hotshots final cup, Matthew and Brady both throwing themselves dramatically into Quinn, Cole and Trevor falling to their knees in despair. But Quinn's eyes pricked tears as he stood still and a rock. The Canines jumped for joy in each other's arms, hugging and laughing. Except y/n. She never got the chance. Before she had any time to even step away from the table, Colton's mouth latched onto hers, her hands moving to his chest. Quinn wiggled his way out of the Tkachuks, mumbling something about breaking the seal. 

The bathroom door swung open and slammed behind Quinn. His hands gripped the basin as he did his best to choke back his tears. Why did it hurt? Y/n was supposed to run into his arms like she always did and they’d hug longer than friends would, until eternity. But no one would question that because they were long-time friends. They were friends. So why did it tear his heart to shreds when the lips he devoured earlier that day melted into the lips of another? What was so fucking great about Matthew? Or Colton? And why was he such a coward?

Y/n pushed Colton off her, startled and heart-yearning for comfort. But he was gone. 

“Quite a shot you have,” Colton smirked, “C'mon, princess, I can give you my address and we can see what other party tricks you got.” 

“Pass.” Gross. Only Quinn got to call her that, but he was nowhere to be seen after she knew he'd disappeared, like he always did when upset. 

“Sure? Because it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, think about it. You could be losing your virginity to someone who knows what they're doing-” he never finished his speech. Zack called him over, letting him know that they were heading out for the clubs and with that Colton was gone. As if y/n never existed. Little did he know, though, that his offer was pointless. Little did he know.

Even after agreeing that The Vodka Incident would not happen again, the usual suspects (even Quinn had returned, but with a face of thunder), mostly drunk, sat around the fire pit, with cups of leftover beer and vodka orange. Luke joined in this time, though Jack wouldn't let him drink any alcohol. A small sense of deja vu washed over, memories of the last fire pit night bringing a small smile to her lips as she sloshed the beer in her cup around. 

“I'm gonna be really real here, and you guys should too,” Brady pointed around the circle with his cup in hand, “I had my first kiss last year. Horrible.”

“Oh yeah? Explain.” Cole asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his drink.

“Neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing and we'd both just eaten tacos so yeah. Didn't taste nor feel great at all.” 

“Nasty. Bro, at least pop a mint beforehand. I kissed two girls a couple of years ago, it was okay. Nothin’ special, but we did crash teeth for one of them. That was awkward.” Jack chuckled, almost cringing at the memory. 

“Poor girl, the kiss probably meant something special to her, Rowdy.” Y/n absently pitched in, feeling Quinn's eyes on her, as if to say ‘What happens in my room, stays in my room.’ Was he ashamed of it? What was so bad about the kiss? Or kisses? 

“Of course, you'd say that,” Jack rolled his eyes, adjusting the backward hat on his head.

“What about you Trev? I know we joke about it but have you actually kissed anyone?” She sipped her drink.

“Doesn't matter. What about you, huh? Bet you haven't. Anyway, Cole hasn't either, or Luke. So I'm not the only loser.” Defensive Trevor was an amusing Trevor, he huffed his cheeks and flushed red. 

“I have. Fifteen. It was good, actually. One of the most memorable.” She crossed her leg over the other and leaned back in her chair, ignoring the shit-eating grin on Brady's face. Quinn said nothing, and nor did he want to say anything. He just sank further into his seat and finished his vodka orange, stuffing the cup into the chair's cup holder. “Brady, you ever made out with someone? You said that no one could resist a Tkachuk.”

“Ah, well- almost okay? Her dad turned up and we had to stop. Can't believe the guy, honestly.” The group laughed at his stammering, except Quinn, who'd probably heard the story a thousand times. “You think it's funny, y/n? What about you, huh?”

She leant forwards, hands gripping the armrests and the same shit-eating grin smeared on her lips, “Yeah, and it was hot. Would do it all over again.”

“Brady, you're forgetting Colton literally shoved his tongue in her mouth over an hour ago,” Trevor exclaimed, the musketeers giggling over the crackling of the flames.

Quinn's glare thickened, and Brady caught sight of it. Luke did too as he watched his brother abruptly stand up and head for the kitchen, his feet heavy on the porch steps. Her eyes softened and followed him, watching him slide the doors open with an aggravation alien for him. 

“I'll be right back.” She spoke over Jack.

Jogging in her flip flops up the stairs and into the kitchen, closing the door gently. Cautiously, she followed Quinn to the fridge, watching him yank a Fanta from the shelf and close the door harshly.

“Hey Q, are you okay?” She asked with a small voice, picking the skin on her thumb.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” He pulled the can's tab, the fizz echoing through the empty room. It was always ‘I'm good’, never ‘I'm fine’. She'd known him long enough to know something like that, like how he always removed himself when he was in a bad mood, scared to hurt someone's feelings. “Shouldn't you be with your new boyfriends?” 

He grumbled, barely looking her in the eye as he moved to leave out the porch doors, but she blocked his path, standing almost chest to chest with him, looking up. She hated that she found it attractive when he was mad, his voice always dropped. “No. We haven't talked properly all day.”

“So now you wanna talk?” He spun on his heel, slamming the can into the marble counter and pacing in the kitchen with one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. It wasn't the time for the conversation, but a monster inside him taunted him with the idea that they may never have another opportunity.

“Yes. So, what? And who are you-” She folded her arms, but he interrupted.

“-Oh don't play this game! I saw the way you were looking at Matthew, everyone saw. And Colton? You let him have a field day. How'd he taste? Like cheap beer and cigarettes? Or an adolescence of putting you before himself?” He snapped, staring as if waiting for an answer. She'd never seen or heard him yell like that. Fuck, Quinn had never properly yelled at her. Jack and Luke had relayed stories about what Quinn did to his teammates when they humiliated her, or what a pissed-off Quinn sounded like. But they were his brothers, he was supposed to get annoyed at them, he wasn't supposed to get annoyed with his best friend. He hadn’t even yelled at Trevor like that, and that was saying something. 

Putting you before himself. Her stomach emptied, just a pit of guilt spiralling yet her heartstrings yanked and toyed with. She couldn't bear to see him like that, his jealousy manipulated him in ways he had no idea could happen. She learned he was possessive, and she thought it was sweet. She liked it. But she wasn't his so why should she like it so much? There. She wasn't his. Not officially. Their attraction was obvious, lustful. But did he feel the same as her? Did his heart slow when tangled in each other's arms? Did he find her utterly intoxicating, wanting to kiss and fuck with love not just because they can and because it's easy to? Maybe her hints were too subtle, maybe she was too nice to Mila that one time. Maybe her glares in the hallways weren't threatening enough. Words left unsaid, they were convenient for each other, just like the kids at school said. Friends with benefits. Yeah, that's what they were. And it used to keep the peace.

She never answered his question, but it did eat at her. “Quinn, what the fuck? Look, I'm sorry I upset you, I really am, you know I am. You know I never want to hurt you but can you blame a girl for wanting to hang out with other girls? I had no idea where Layla was leading me, and I don't know what came over me. Just, having guys call you pretty does things, emotional things and it's different when you do it because we're friends. And I know you're pissed about beer pong, if I could have been with you I would have 'cause I did not ask nor want to be kissed like that,” She pleaded, watching his eyes gloss over as he sniffed. The last thing she wanted to do was make him cry. Then she remembered that all of whatever was going on between them was nothing but fun, and Quinn was the one who showed her that. “But why do you care so much about a fucking kiss? We're not even together.”

He turned away and sighed, face buried in his hands. He didn’t mean to shout. He didn't want to cry but the tears welled and rolled down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes with his palms, heart pulsing in his ears and with the little energy he had left, he turned again to face her. 

“I care because I thought we were something, y/n. I thought this,” he gestured between them, voice trembling, “meant something real. Friends don't do the shit we do. I hated the way he touched you, you're supposed to be mine.” 

Her eyes watered, bottom lip quivering, hearing confession so raw. The confession of a confused and broken young man. They were only seventeen but the level of emotion in their argument made them sound like they were going through a horrendous break-up after a long-term relationship. “Am I? That didn't matter when you were shoving your tongue down Chloe's throat. I thought we were something too, Quinn.” 

The night she needed him the most, the night Leo dumped her, she found him in cahoots with some girl in their cohort. That was the moment she realised that perhaps she was just a placeholder. 

Quinn groaned in frustration, not at y/n, but at himself but there was no excuse left for him to make as he spat venom at her, “Like you, she took me by surprise. We were drunk. But didn't think you'd hold onto that since Matthew is soooo dreamy and tall and pretty, probably hoped it was him trying to rip your clothes off, hoped Colton would make him jealous. That's why you've been using me as practice, for someone better, huh?”

“Fuck you, Quintin!” she screamed, “the fuck are you talking about? Using you? Is that how little you think of me?” 

He pointed at her, firmly, “You and I both know it wasn't supposed to go this far!”

The silence that fell on them was thick and uncomfortable. Their gazes locked into each other as chests panted. Tears streamed from red, sore eyes as arms fell to their sides. Neither party felt victorious, deep down they really wished they hadn't said a word at all but the lake house makes emotions surge and disturb the serenity. It always had, with and without y/n, Cole and Trevor. He just wished he’d said something sooner, then he wouldn't have lost her like that. Once again, he was a coward and let her slip through his fingers. 

Y/n exhaled deeply, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, “Maybe. But part of me was glad it did,” her voice calmest as she stepped backwards and started heading out the patio doors, “Oh, and for what it's worth, I shoved him off. He didn't taste like hot chocolate and popcorn on a winter's evening. I’d choose that over anything.”  

And she left for the boys. Quinn's heart dropped and shattered, the tears falling like waterfalls and he didn't even want the drink anymore. He left it on the counter and shuffled upstairs. Hot chocolate and popcorn on a winter's evening. Their hockey game combo they share, just the two of them and they had been doing that since they'd met at ten years old. 

*

Y/n didn't sleep in Quinn's room after that. She didn't speak to him for the next passing week, occupying herself with Luke or Cole. She played video games with Luke, baked cookies with him, took him and Cole out on the boat (just to spite Quinn), and played pool in the basement. Quinn watched, unable to exit the proximity of them. He wasn't seething. He was deflated. Like a sad, wet, cat. Most of all, he was lonely. And he hated sleeping alone. 

Jack placed his plate next to the sink, watching Quinn's shoulders slump at yet another dish to clean. Sunday's were his day to clean dinner dishes, and usually, y/n helped him dry and put them away, but since he'd bitten her head off a week ago, he struggled alone. Jack hated seeing his brother dejected, it was the same hollow eyes that a lost hockey game caused. One where you tried so hard just to fuck it up. He grabbed the tea towel off the oven’s handle and started drying the dripping dishes from the draining board.

The middle Hughes. Rowdy with ambition in his blood, but also a brother. Jack took a plate, “Sooo, y/n's been spoiling Luke a lot this week. Why'd you get demoted?” 

Quinn glared from the corner of his eye. He knew Jack just wanted to lighten the mood, but he also knew he wasn't tuned in with comfort at his age. “I fucked up. Said something I shouldn't have said, an in-the-moment thing.”

“Like?” Jack placed a plate down, taking another like a system in a machine, Quinn washed, he dried, plate added to the pile.

“I- It's-,” Quinn stammered, remembering that no one had a clue what they were up to, “We just had a misunderstanding and instead of being mature about it, I said some stupid things.”

Jack thought hard, barely looking at him and set his gaze out the window into the garden, watching his dad put the covering over the boat. “You're my big brother, and if you think for a second that I'm gonna take that as an answer, you're wrong. At least tell me the root cause of it.” 

Quinn paused, his tone coming across as more irritated than intended, “I was jealous, Jack...sorry. And I walked off instead of apologising and here we are.”

“You're a real idiot, you know that, right?” 

*

Sunday night, a whole week of sleepless nights due to Trevor. And even Cole had started getting irritated. How could one guy snore so badly? And he was only sixteen. She lay wide awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Had she been too harsh on Quinn? Was silent treatment really necessary? She wouldn't have been surprised if Quinn was miserable too, they had been each other's pillars for years. 

Her trance of thoughts was broken by a ‘thud’ from the bed. She shot up, only to see Cole's pillow over Trevor's face, a disgruntled Cole still gripping it.

“Smothering crosses my mind.” He deadpanned.

Trevor sat up with urgency, letting the pillow fall into his lap, tank top crumpled to his stomach, “What the fuck? Why are you two awake? You should sleep.”

“Dude, your snoring is so bad, you gotta do something about it,” Cole said, taking back his pillow.

“I literally have to move rooms because of it.” She added, laying back down.

“Then why are you here?” Trevor lay back down, pulling the duvet to his chest. “Actually, why haven't you been with Quinn this week?”

She hesitated, “Q and I had an argument. We're not on speaking terms. And honestly, I don't think he wants to see me.”

All three of them lay facing the ceiling, listening to the whirr of the fan fill the void. The boys knew something was wrong, Quinn and y/n's separation wasn't hard to miss but keeping normality was best. Nobody wanted a ruined summer. 

“I think all he wants is to see you. You're his world and he just mopes without you. What was it about?” Cole's voice was soft and quiet so Jim or Ellen wouldn't come barging in again. That happened once when they were younger, all three had the giggles and Jim had to threaten to separate them. 

“Just a stupid misunderstanding. He said shit, I said shit and we both just hurt each other in the end…” she sighed, “I don't know what to do, guys.” 

They didn't pry, they weren't sure if they wanted to know what was said. After so many years of watching Quinn and y/n hopelessly pine over each other, an argument couldn't ruin that. 

“Well, as a start you could apologise. Make up, make out, whatever you two do. And for fucks sake, just talk. Like, really talk about whatever's going on.” Trevor replied, not really knowing what he was saying but he tried to be helpful when he could. 

She kicked the sheets off and opened the guest room door and whispered, ‘Thanks’ before slipping out. He didn’t mean right then and there but he shrugged, letting Cole fall asleep first before his snoring continued. 

Like a creep, she stood with her back against his door, mustering up the courage to talk and pushing her pride aside. She sighed and tiptoed over to his bed, and lay on her back next to him. His sheets were warm and cosy but heat radiated off his body. Neither said anything, but he felt her presence and it took everything he had to not engulf her in a hug and spill his apologies, he was still an insecure young man deep down. But hearing her breathing, he was also weak. 

“Hi,” she greeted into the silence, voice above a whisper. Quinn slowly turned over, threw his arm over her torso and buried his face into her neck. She didn't respond for a few seconds, but when she wrapped her arms around him, his chest fell weightless. “I'm so sorry, Q.” She mumbled into his shoulder, fingers finding themselves in his hair.

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come at you like that or said any of those things,” he pushed himself onto to elbows, eyes glassy but red, “I was jealous and I took it out on you. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I shouldn't have brought things up either, seeing you with a girl just…yeah, makes me jealous too, especially because neither of us communicated well. I take back everything I said, except the last bit.” She smiled slightly, her palm on his cheek. 

“I missed you,” his lips fell into a sad smile, his head falling onto her chest. 

“I missed you too.” She held him tight, “Why did you think I was using you?”

“Some kid at school brought the idea of just being convenient. And then when Brady came over with the vodka, you said Matthew was attractive. And I stupidly put the two together. Regretted it when you mentioned hot chocolate. I should've helped you, but instead, I got jealous and ran away.” His voice was hoarse, hand slipping under her shirt and thumb rubbing the skin on her stomach.

“It's okay. I should've helped you at the party instead of crying like a bitch. Guess we're both stupid.” She chuckled.

Minutes passed and neither dozed off, but neither spoke. His thumb caressed her skin, while her fingers played with his hair, their breathing pattern slowly falling into a synchronised rhythm. Once again, they lay in his bed, tangled in each other's limbs and once again they both rendered the same question. If they hadn't been afraid of all the possible answers, they could be happily skipping through meadows or sleeping alone again. 

She took a deep breath, and he felt her chest rise and fall. With enough courage, she muttered, “Q? What are we?”

He didn't answer immediately, but he pulled his hand from her shirt and hovered over her body, his eyes following hers: lips to eyes, lips to eyes.

“More than friends.” He licked his lips, but he couldn't read her expression, “I don't wanna be friends with benefits, and I don't wanna just be your best friend anymore.”

“Quinn…” 

He clambered off her and sat against the headboard on his side of the bed. Giving her no chance to react, he pulled her onto his lap, her thighs straddling his. Quinn's hands cupped the globes of her ass, and the soft flesh reminded him of how much he missed kneading and pawing at them. 

“Please, let me get this off my chest, I've been a coward.” He started, the fire inside him igniting when her palms slid down his chest and sat comfortably on his pectorals. Where they belonged, if you asked him. Quinn wasn't good with words, or feelings, it was something all the brothers had in common, and y/n eyebrow raised at how choked up he suddenly became when admitting to trying to not be a coward. “Shit, this is harder than I thought. Fuck- Uh, okay. When I said I spent my adolescence putting you before myself, I meant it. Valentine's Day, when we were fifteen, I meant to give you those chocolates after the second period, but my friends roped me into helping someone ask this girl out. That evening when you came to see if I was okay, and we fell asleep for the first time, my heart went crazy, I was sweating so much ‘cause I wanted you to be comfortable and I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

She took his face into her hands, feeling the heat rise in his skin and spill his mind. He pulled her closer to him, her stomach tingling at the way he massaged the flesh like his personal stress toy.

“Remember the concert? You clung onto me like I was your lifeline, I wanted to kiss you right then and there. And the Maple Leafs game, God after the Maple Leafs game. I'll never forget the way you looked at me like I was fucking treasure. Like I was your everything.” He stopped his babbling, hands giving her ass a rest and holding onto her hips, a small part of him kicking himself for sitting her too close to his crotch. 

“I never wanna hear you say that you're not good with words again.” Y/n felt her heart pound in her throat, stars in her eyes at every word of his laced with a sweet desire for redemption. “Every second I've ever shared with you was the highlight of my life. Since the day we met, you've been everything. I just wanted to be your everything too.”

“I feel like the luckiest man alive. Every day, all the time.” A glint of carnal passion glazed over his eyes as they steadied on hers. Her thumbs rubbed his cheekbones, his hands holding onto her for dear life. She couldn't stop her lip from quivering, the emotions that swirled had to be released. The butterflies had to be set free, the fluttering raging and heat in her core inappropriately bubbling. Quinn's room was silent, just the hum of his fan filling the crumbs of awkwardness as they refrained from pouncing on each other. He took a deep breath, puffed his chest out and took a risk bigger than any he'd taken in hockey, a risk with worse consequences. He could get over hockey but he couldn't get over her smile, or laugh, or existence. “Y/n, I have been in love with you since we were fifteen. You're the only person who makes me feel this way.”

“Q,” She breathed, pushing herself into him, closing the painful gap between them and connecting their lips into a long kiss, “Can we be real? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend real?”

He nodded, planting kisses over her face and down her neck, “Yes. Yes, please. You're mine and I wanna be yours. God, you have no idea how happy I was when you told me you didn't kiss Leo, you were still all mine.”

She giggled, his breath on her neck tickling her skin and the arousal pooling in her stomach dripping into her underwear, “Come here, I wanna kiss my boyfriend. Maybe show him how much he means to me.” 

She kissed him softly, hands sliding from his cheeks to the back of his neck, where her fingers tangled between the curls on the nape of his neck, tugging gently to tease a grunt or groan from him. His grip on her hips loosened, and his hands ran along her thighs until they groped at her ass again, encouraging her to roll her hips into his. They'd kissed before, but this time it was meaningful. It was something clear, not a bundle of questions of ‘what ifs’. When her teeth gently bit his lower lip, to refuse would have made him a criminal. The bliss that cradled him when their tongues met once again was different too, it was just his to taste. No one else's, he could lap at hers until they dribbled down their chins, delirium rushing to their heads when they moaned and whimpered when someone pulled away to breathe. 

The best part was the peace of mind. She didn't have to think about anyone touching him the way she did as she slipped their shirts over their heads again, hands roaming each other's curves and dips like it was their first time all over again. Before Quinn knew it, his hand was rummaging through his nightstand again, her clothes would be on his bedroom floor, his skin would be pressed against hers, and they would be under his sheets, rasping and whining as quietly as possible as his cock hit new angles, or as her throat took more than either had thought. The difference this time was that having sex came with a meaning, a feeling other than lust. It wasn’t a fun game, it was intimate and exclusive. It was with the red thread of fate, tied around their pinkie fingers, and it had finally led them into a sublime vicinity.

The usual suspects sat where the best times of their lives began. The night was young, the sun only just falling into slumber as the crickets chirped. Wrapped up in hoodies and lounging in lawn chairs, summer evenings nearly ended the same every day. Brady, y/n and Quinn with a box of beer between them, Trevor, Jack, Cole and Luke with non-alcoholic equivalents y/n had found, even though she’d seen them grab a real bottle when they thought they were slick, around the fire pit at the lake house. 

The harrowing thing about good times is that they fly too fast, and you're left wondering why you didn't have enough time. There are two kinds of people. People like Quinn who prepared to open a new chapter in his story, a new door in his life. And people like y/n who clawed at the door to keep it open, screaming for more time. Not more time with Quinn, they both got into the University of Michigan and after a year of dating, they still had many in their journey. But Brady was off to Boston University, and Jack, Cole, Trevor and Luke still had high school and their lives together would carry on. 

Brady broke the silence first, “Do you guys have any regrets?”

He didn't expect Luke to answer, given his life had only just begun.

“I regret not talking more to new people,” Cole replied, listening to the crackling of the burning wood. “Feel like I would have friends like Jack and Trevor, be remembered as me not known as ‘Jack and Trevor's friend’, yunno?“

“Dude, no! People know you as Cole! You're not just a third wheel!” Jack protested, hurt in his tone. 

“Cole, you're not our third wheel! We love you, buddy!” Trevor added, his guilt creeping up on him. 

“I don't have any, yet. Aside from being born so far apart from you losers.” Luke smirked, all smug like fourteen-year-olds were. Y/n grinned and shook her head at him. If there was one person who had a soft spot in her heart, it would always be Luke. 

“And it better stay that way,” she laughed, “Luke, I just wanna put you in my pocket and take you everywhere.” 

“Ahem, what about us?” Jack gasped dramatically, pointing at himself and his two musketeers. 

“Ew, you're annoying and Trevor’s snoring can only get fucking worse. Cole and I actually considered smothering him once!” y/n joked, looking around the group to see smiles. 

The laughter died down, and they went back to sipping drinks and watching the fire, minds wandering in separate directions.

“You guys will come visit, right?” Trevor asked, his voice the quietest it had ever been. 

“Of course. We'll be back during the summer, and we can hang out again.” y/n's voice was the softest it could have been with Trevor, usually she nagged as if she were his older sister. 

*

All good things must come to an end, and carefree days slowly dissipated for Quinn, y/n and Brady. The three stood out the front of the Hughes lake house, waiting for Matthew to pick Brady up on his way through. Not one of them dared to say much. They'd had their sappy talks earlier and if they started again late at night, tears were guaranteed. Especially since both boys were due in the upcoming NHL draft, that was one of the scariest parts. 

But she did say something. She wasn't sure if she'd ever see Brady again, and while she hadn’t known him long, she kept him close. 

She held her fist out to the middle Tkachuk with soft eyes, “Good luck, Brady. At Boston and in the draft.”

Brady breathed and pulled her by her wrist into a sudden bear hug, “Thanks, y/n. Good luck at Michigan. And if Quinner ever hurts you, you tell me, okay?”

She giggled as they pulled away, “Got it. Hear that Q?” 

Quinn playfully rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. God, as if I'd want to do that…or have Brady rock up at my door ready to hit me.”

“I've done it before and I'll do it again!” 

Shortly after, Matthew's truck pulled up. The three bid their final goodbyes of the summer before Quinn and y/n watched the Tkachuks disappear down the road. 

“He'll go far, Q. So fucking far.” She uttered, her eyes wide with a childlike admiration. 

Quinn snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, “Too far for his own good.”

“And I expect to see you both on TV, okay? Don't hit each other though, leave Brady and Matthew to brawl.” 

“I'll do my best.” He paused, his smile fading, “What happens if I get drafted? What happens next?”

“You'll get drafted, and you'll either jump straight in or play at UMich for a bit. I'll finish university and who knows? We'll call and text, we'll figure it out and we'll see each other in the summer. Right here. I'll go wherever you go.”

“But what do you want to do? Like after you graduate? I don't wanna hold you back.” 

She cupped his cheek, “I don’t know. I don't know yet. I'll probably do something media or hockey-based, you know that.”

He nodded, giving her a slow and warm kiss on her lips, as if he were to never kiss them again, savouring the flowers that bloomed inside, all the fireworks exploding at once and the reassurance that in the end, he got his girl. The future was scary, and no one could know what would come next. But y/n finally stopped clawing at the closing door that she desperately tried to keep open, and hand in hand followed Quinn into the next chapter of their story. 

“I love you, Q.” 

“I love you too, y/n.”

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

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[obsesssedblerd]

life after you and satoru adopt the first years 💜💜

fic of that here. i recommend reading that before these hcs 💕

contains: mentions of pregnancy / birth

yuuji still can't believe it. he now has a large room in you and satoru's large home, parents that adore him, and siblings that'll forever have his back. he cries about it sometimes. after everything he's been through, he finally has his happy ending.

megumi is the most relaxed he's ever been in his life. it felt so good resting, knowing that he was safe and that you and satoru wouldn't let anything happen to him. he sleeps so much. you and satoru saw it coming. he's been in survival mode ever since he was a kid. of course, he's going to want to rest. whenever you see him napping in the sunroom, you put a small blanket over him.

like yuuji, nobara also can't believe it. sometimes, you see her just watching everyone else in disbelief, unable to believe that she's now a part of the family. she's always smiling, though. her favorite part of the day is that last hour before bed, where she's next to you in one of the large bathrooms doing skincare together.

three months into the adoption (and four months into your pregnancy), you ask the three of them if they'd still like to be sorcerers. to your surprise, they said yes. when you ask why, yuuji points his thumb over at satoru and says, "gotta help dad out."

satoru definitely cried later because yuuji called him 'dad' for the first time.

though satoru accepted that, he preferred for the three of them to take far fewer missions so they could enjoy the rest of their childhood. to his relief, none of them disagreed with it.

however, the higher-ups of jujutsu society weren't too thrilled at the news of you and satoru adopting them because that meant that they would have fewer sorcerers.

what they did express great interest and delight in, was the fact that you were pregnant. they were already chatting about how powerful the baby would be and what great things they could achieve; not just with satoru's technique but also yours. hearing those old bastards talk about his child as if they were already a perfect weapon, like he was made to be, made his blood boil.

satoru shut it down swiftly and told them that the baby wouldn't have anything to do with sorcery, regardless of what technique they were born with. they deserved a happy, safe life far away from the horrific system that devoured children. he saved yuuji, nobara, and megumi from it before it could kill them. every day, he wished that he and suguru were saved from it.

when the higher-ups objected, satoru gave them a chilling warning—that he'll show no mercy to anyone who tries to threaten his family's safety and happiness, and that's final.

yuuji, megumi, and nobara keep up with their training, but they also spend a lot more time doing things that genuinely interest them.

you and satoru spoil them rotten. obviously. when it comes to fun family trips, you all always go overboard, but it didn't matter. all three of them never got to have fun experiences, plus, you can tell that satoru is making up for all of the things he missed as a child.

your old colleagues and students from jujutsu tech showed up to your baby shower, and it warmed your heart to see just how loved this baby was even though they weren't born yet.

you and satoru decide to wait to find out the gender until they're born. every evening after dinner, all five of you sit on the large couch in the living room, and the four of them take turns talking to your stomach.

they're always so excited when the baby kicks.

the final empty room in your massive home is stocked with everything that your newborn is going to need.

you're with megumi and nobara when your water breaks. you call satoru, who was shopping with yuuji, and tell them the news. "don't panic, but my water broke, and-" too late, they're both already screaming.

after so many hours of labor, you finally give birth to your beautiful baby girl. her hair is mostly like yours, but she also has a few white strands that she took from satoru.

she also inherited the bluest of eyes, and while satoru is extremely happy, he's also worried. because of the power he was born with, he was hunted. he never wanted that for his princess.

you can tell what he's thinking, and you stroke his cheek, telling him that it was going to be okay because your daughter had so many willing to protect her.

yuuji, megumi, and nobara—a little teary-eyed because their new baby sister was so freaking cute—assure satoru that he wouldn't be the only one with the role of protecting the family. they were sorcerers too, after all.

that brings the most gentle smile to satoru's face.

[redzie02]

Imagining Wooyoung as a girl dad

quick imagine ...ur honor i love him and im here to push the girl dad! wooyoung agenda masterlist

wooyoung loves kids, even more so when they're his kids

your daughter had just been born a few months ago and he'd had a hard time leaving her side

when she would cry in the middle of the night, he'd jump out of bed before you could even process what was going on. you'd sleepily walk into the nursery to find him rocking her back and forth in his arms, mumbling whatever was on his mind in the softest voice. all with a smile on his face. the love he wore in his eyes was one so special that not even the greatest artists would be able to capture it

he'd always tell you how amazingly you were doing, ridding any doubts and insecurities you had about becoming a new parent

but oh was Wooyoung greedy with your daughter-so clingy he was with her

kisses. so many little kisses. forehead kisses, kisses over her eyes, nose, her tiny knuckles.

as soon as you were done feeding her, he'd whisk her away from your arms and pat her back until she burped, cradling her afterwards.

he'd snatch her from you so often that it started to frustrate you

you whined, "wooyoung! she's not gonna remember who I am if you keep taking her away like that."

"ah, sorry. i just can't stop thinking about having to go back to work in a couple weeks. I don't want to miss anything."

"i know, but just- remember she's not just your baby, okay?"

introducing your daughter to rest of ateez had certainly been fun. so many ranges of emotions- a few crying at the sight of the tiny scrunched face, some scared to hold her, some a little too excited to toss the fragile baby in the air

you and Woo walked into the room with your daughter in her carrier, confused when you took in their appearances- absolutely dressed to the nines. "Oh- are you guys performing after this?"

San spoke with his cat like grin. "Nope, Wooyoung told us to dress up for this."

You raised an eyebrow at your husband, not knowing a thing about whatever was going on.

Woo shrugged. "What? First impressions are important."

They'd all watch in awe at the little being yawning then falling asleep immediately after in Seonghwa's arms, her tiny hand loosening its grip on his index finger

"Wow, she's so cute...thank god she looks nothing like Wooyoung," Mingi joked, earning a slap on the shoulder.

"Shut up, she's my twin." And he would proudly prove so, pulling out his phone to find his own baby pictures.

Whenever it was possible, he'd have the three of you wearing matching outfits he custom made himself, down to the tiniest details- the jewelry, the shoes, socks and hair ties.

Cuteness aggression would overtake his senses when you would walk into the living room, daughter in arm, twirling to show off the outfits he put together. He'd clap and beg for another twirl, pulling out his camera and snapping pictures of the two he loved most. He'd go through the photos with tears in his eyes, zooming in and showing you his favorite ones.

He loved to go on dates to flaunt the outfits, driving you to the park and picking the perfect spot; under a tree with branches that drooped, providing the perfect amount of protection from the sun (and he made sure little baby had her sunscreen on). He'd smooth your favorite picnic blanket on the grass and set up the food- he had packed the baby's food and necessities before anything else. He'd take out his camera, adjust the settings, then snap more photos, excited to edit and print them out later. He always kept a photo of you three in his wallet, switching it out for a new one every week.

With every year that went by, you noticed her personality only grew to be more like Wooyoung's. Between the constant babbling and the energetic outbursts, there was never a quiet day at home. Her and Wooyoung could ramble about nothing for hours, not taking a breath once.

She'd even adopted the habit of sloppily kissing your cheek whenever you were near.

Before Wooyoung, you weren't a fan of so much physical touch, but now you can't go a single hour without expecting a kiss on the cheek or forehead from either of your true loves.

a/n: im so sleepy and this is all i could think about. i have so many drafts but my writing is subpar so i leave u with an imagine. might do these more often

[senawashere]

Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

[megalony]

All These Kids

This is my newest Eddie Diaz imagine, based on two requests I've merged together, it's rather long but very fluffy. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) have a soccer team of kids together, who they introduce to the 118 team.

Enjoy.

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"Dad- hang on a second." Tilting her head down to the left, (Y/n) looked down at her daughter with raised brows and a smile. She pressed her hips up into the counter and waited patiently for Evie to tell her what she wanted.

But the three-year-old just held her hands up towards the phone with grabbing fingers and a sweet, toothy grin. She knew who was on the phone.

"I think I'm gonna have to pass you over. Go talk to grandad then." She leaned over and held her phone out towards Evie who clapped before she took the phone. The confusion was clear on Evie's face. She was so used to talking to her grandparents over Facetime, she wasn't used to simple phone calls anymore.

But she quickly worked it out and pressed the phone to her ear with a wide grin as she turned around. "Grandad!" Evie toddled out of the kitchen, taking (Y/n)'s phone along with her to where Chris, Finn and Nate were playing a game in the living room.

(Y/n) smiled to herself and put the kettle on to make a drink. At least she had talked to her dad for a while this time rather than a few seconds before the kids came and took the phone from her. Every time he was on the phone, all four kids seemed to sense it and take the phone to talk to him.

They were even worse if Eddie was on shift, especially an evening shift. If he missed bedtime, (Y/n) usually had to Facetime him so he could say goodnight to the kids.

Thankfully, (Y/n)'s job meant she could work from home and only had to visit the office once or twice a fortnight. She could work while the kids were at school and always be there to pick them up or stay home with them if they were sick and couldn't go to school.

So it didn't matter if Eddie wanted to do a mixture of day and night shifts or if he did a long stretch of double shifts. (Y/n) was usually able to look after the kids and Eddie did a lot of double shifts so he got a lot of bulk time off at home with his family.

Leaning forwards, (Y/n) folded her arms on the counter and arched her lower back out while she waited for the kettle. But just as it clicked, a grin wormed its way back onto her lips when she felt a familiar set of arms curve around her waist.

She straightened up and moved forwards until her hips and abdomen were pressed into the counter and she felt Eddie press up behind her. His chest moulded around hers like a blanket and his hands gave her hips a squeeze while he tilted his head down. His lips attached to her neck and made a shiver course down (Y/n)'s spine and tingle down to her arms.

"Hi babe," She reached her hand down to give Eddie's wrist a squeeze while she leaned her head against his.

"You got something you need to tell me?" Eddie's words were soft and low as they vibrated through (Y/n)'s neck.

Those words made her heart race and she nuzzled her nose into his hair, trying to rack her brain to think what he meant by that. His words weren't daring or annoyed, they were quite the opposite which made (Y/n) even more dazed. She couldn't think what he was referring to.

She didn't have anything to tell him, did she? Nothing significant had happened. She hadn't told Chris, Finn or the twins anything or any secret surprise for Eddie that they could have let loose.

"I… I don't think so. Why, should I?"

When Eddie bit down on her neck, (Y/n) pressed her lips together so she didn't make a sound. But she knew he felt the deep breath she took, especially when he dragged his tongue across the mark he'd just created.

She stayed still while Eddie curved his left arm around her waist, tugging her back as if the tiny membrane of space between them was far too much. His chest tensed up against her back and his face stayed tucked into her neck with his nose brushing across the side of her jaw like a feather.

(Y/n) almost closed her eyes until she felt Eddie's right arm move over her hip and he placed something down on the counter in front of her.

"Are we expecting a new arrival?"

Eddie dragged his lips up (Y/n)'s neck, across her jaw and around until he was hovering over her lips. He pecked her lips once, then twice, then again until (Y/n) almost forgot what he'd even asked her.

She kissed him again, cupping the side of his face with her right hand before Eddie finally pulled back and looked down at the counter.

He'd been a little more than surprised when he looked in the bathroom cabinet and found a pregnancy test which he knew hadn't been there last week. He could still remember each of the other three times she'd told him she was pregnant.

Eddie had been about to head back to the army for another tour when (Y/n) gave him a baby grow for his birthday and said they were expecting Chris. And when Chris was four, he gave Eddie a small box for father's day with a pair of baby booties in and a positive test. He remembered the way he'd almost collapsed at their first scan when they found out they were having two babies, not just one.

Eddie had been more than in love with the way (Y/n) looked and changed when she was pregnant.

The last time (Y/n) was pregnant Eddie had figured it out before she told him. He started to notice the signs, she had been really sick during the first few months when they were expecting Evie. And it had been uplifting to finally have a girl that time after three boys.

He leaned back a little so (Y/n) could turn around his arms so she was facing him. When her hands moved to cup his face and smooth across his jaw, Eddie glided his hands down from her hips to grab the back of her thighs. He lifted her up and slid her back onto the counter, moving so he was stood between her legs that instantly wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tight.

"Mi amor?"

"I think so, I haven't had chance to take the test yet." (Y/n) looped her arms around the back of his neck and leaned her forehead against his.

(Y/n) didn't like to tell Eddie if she thought she was pregnant, just in case it turned out she wasn't. She thought that if she was, she would surprise him again like she did with Chris and then the twins. But she hadn't found the time to take the test yet, it had been sitting in the back of the bathroom cupboard while (Y/n) tried to get some time and courage to do it.

"You know you've kind of ruined the surprise if I am." She knew she should have done it as soon as she bought the test. (Y/n) didn't like just coming out with it or having Eddie work it out like he did with Evie, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to try and make it a surprise and something special.

"We don't technically know yet, so go take the test and surprise me."

He leaned his temple against hers as his hands wormed beneath her shirt and splayed out across her back.

They hadn't exactly talked about having more kids. They always said they wanted kids together. Finding out about Chris was the reason they got married so quickly and Eddie didn't do anymore tours in the army after Chris was born. He couldn't bear to be separated from his family anymore.

Having twins had been a big surprise but they had coped amazingly well with double trouble and looking after Chris. And Evie had been a very welcomed gift and (Y/n) knew Eddie had been ecstatic about finally having a little girl to spoil.

"Eager?" (Y/n) whispered against his lips as she tightened her legs around his hips and pulled him closer until his groin bumped into hers.

"Yeah. I miss you being pregnant, and how small Evie was when she was born." Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit it. He was always attached to (Y/n) at the hip when she was pregnant. And he missed having a baby in his arms. Evie had been two months early and she had been so tiny that she didn't even fit the length of Eddie's arm.

He loved having his tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms or snuggled down on his chest. He used to call her his little doll because of how little she cried and how tiny and porcelean she looked.

When his lips curved up into a smile, (Y/n) closed the gap between them and smothered his lips with hers.

(Y/n)'s fingers reached up to tangle in the short hairs at the back of his neck and when she gave a sharp tug, she swallowed up the groan Eddie let out. She could feel herself smiling against his lips and she used her legs to pull him closer. Sliding herself onto the edge of the counter so she was almost sitting on Eddie's hips.

"What if it's negative?" Her lips barely parted from his to ask what was playing on the back of her mind.

(Y/n) had been thinking and thinking about this and built herself up with the thought that she probably was pregnant. If the test was negative (Y/n) knew her mood was going to deflate and Eddie's would too which was why she didn't want to tell him unless she was certain.

"Then I can help with that," His hands slid down from under her shirt and in one quick swoop, he held her by the thighs again and pulled her onto his torso. "We can always try for a baby this time, you know."

The twins had been somewhat planned and Evie was a complete surprise, but there was nothing stopping them from planning to have a baby this time if the test was negative.

"Really?"

"Hm. I don't think we'll have to try too hard, either."

Pulling back, (Y/n) trailed her lips down to Eddie's jaw when he turned around. But she quickly pulled away and looked over her shoulder when Eddie stopped walking. Evie was stood in front of him in the doorway to the kitchen, holding the phone up to them.

(Y/n) bit down on her lip and tilted her head forward, burrowing her face back into the crook of Eddie's neck when she realised Chris had showed her how to switch the call to Facetime. Her dad was on the phone and he could see her clinging to Eddie like a baby monkey.

"Am I unterrupting?" Her dad narrowed his eyes and tilted his head back when Evie turned the phone to face her parents.

She, Chris and the twins had all been showing their grandad the new video game Chris was playing. Which Chris knew Eddie had secretly played at night and unlocked at least seven new levels that Chris was now re-doing.

"Nope, what can we do for you?" Eddie leaned forward and took (Y/n)'s phone from their daughter. "Thank you baby," He whispered and pecked Evie's temple while he juggled to keep (Y/n) on his hips with one arm. He didn't want her to get down, he was perfectly happy carrying her around for a while. Eddie wanted her as close as possible and their families were accustomed to the amount of PDA the couple showed, this was nothing new.

"I just wanted to double check if the kids are staying over this weekend?"

"You can have them at the weekend if you want them." (Y/n) nudged her forehead against Eddie's neck and leaned her cheek against his collar bone so she could look at her dad on the phone. Her eyes drifted back up to look at Eddie though, giving him a warning look when he hitched his hand up from her thigh to hold her bum instead.

Her parents had taken to having all the kids almost every weekend while Eddie was at work. It gave (Y/n) and Eddie some time alone when he was back from work since his weekends off were usually spent down at the beach or the amusements with the kids.

And usually one weekend a month, (Y/n) and Eddie would take the kids down to see Eddie's parents and sisters back in Texas if they could.

"Perfect. Alright, I'll let you all go and see you at the weekend."

(Y/n) tightened her arms around Eddie's neck and held her breath when he flopped down on the armchair and she thudded down onto his lap. She could see Chris trying to show Nate how to play the new video game, but Nate was usually more content to watch rather than play. Finn was already settled and knew what he was doing in the game.

And Evie usually liked to try and play the games, especially when Eddie was playing as she liked to copy him.

"Where'd you think you're going?" Eddie murmured, grazing his teeth along the side of (Y/n)'s neck when her hands moved to his shoulders and she tried to get up.

"I thought you wanted me to find out." She waved her hand towards the kitchen where he'd left the test and a smile graced her lips when he nodded. She could see him fighting off a smile but he couldn't help it.

Eddie let go of her without a fuss and listened to the sound of her walking back into the kitchen. But he tilted his head back, supressing a groan when Evie grabbed his knees and started to clamber up onto his lap too.

She scrambled over his legs, accidentally kicked him and wriggled until she could flop onto the middle of his chest and sprawl out across him. She grinned to herself and draped her arms over Eddie's chest and snuggled into his neck until he shivered.

"Hi baby girl," He murmured softly, tilting his head down to kiss the top of her head while he smoothed his hand up and down her back.

He let his eyes drift over to his boys. Chris and Nate were sat next to each other on the sofa and Finn was on the floor leaning up against Chris's legs as they played their new video game. Eddie liked that game. He was rather good at all the combat missions and he could never help himself when Chris left the games switched on and Eddie couldn't sleep.

"Finn, where are your glasses?" Eddie propped his head up on his left hand while his right hand continued to smooth up and down Evie's back. It was hard to keep his eyes open and focused on his boys when he was slouched down in the chair and this was how he always laid to get Evie to take a nap and go to sleep.

But Eddie managed to keep his gaze focused on Finn, watching the seven year old glance up at him with a sheepish look and tightly pursed lips.

"Bedroom." He whispered back but he began to pout when Eddie clicked his fingers and pointed to the hall.

"Go put them on please."

"But-"

"If you don't wear them, you don't play the game. Go put them on."

Finn passed the control up to Nate who shuffled closer to Chris, he wasn't good at video games and was more content to watch than to play.

At their last eye test, Nate had perfect vision whereas Finn was starting to struggle like Chris, but he didn't like glasses. Something about the feel of them upset him.

(Y/n) had been back to the opticians twice to get new pairs when Finn ripped them off and broke the arm and then he'd tossed them and popped the lens out. They had to keep persevering with him because his eyesight wasn't going to get any better without his glasses. They were trying to get him to wear them when he was concentrating such as playing games or when he was reading.

He didn't have to wear them early in the morning or late into the night or if he was building with his Lego. Eddie hoped they'd get him wearing them all the time soon, and with Chris wearing glasses, it was prompting and showing Finn he needed his too.

"Are you both having a nap?" (Y/n) commented when Eddie propped his feet up on the coffee table and tilted his head back. She watched him smile while he closed his eyes, and Evie already had her eyes closed and her body snuggled under Eddie's arm like it was a blanket.

"We're tired." He didn't bother to open his eyes, but he moved his right arm out instinctively and waited for (Y/n) to sit back down on his lap. She wriggled to get comfy and make sure she wasn't leaning on Evie before she slumped her head into the crook of Eddie's neck and pecked his cheek. "So?"

He cracked one eye open and tilted his head to look down at her, but (Y/n) kept her face buried against Eddie's neck and continued to pepper kisses up and down his skin.

"You can officially dig my maternity clothes out again."

***

"Where's dad?"

(Y/n) turned to the left and looked over at Chris with a smile. She loved the way his eyes danced around the station in wonder. He had been wanting to come down for a while now and see where Eddie worked, but they had never found the right time.

She knew Eddie was trying to make friends here and get along with the team before he introduced them to his family. And the kids were a handful, (Y/n) was always too nervous to bring any of them down here in case they ran round and caused a scene or got in the way.

Eddie's job was demanding and hectic, the last thing they needed was kids running ramped and causing chaos. And (Y/n) would never want to disrupt Eddie at work or get him in trouble for bringing the kids down. She didn't know the rules here, if family were allowed to come by unannounced or not.

"He should be here somewhere. I hope."

When Evie wriggled in her arms, (Y/n) set the toddler down to her feet but kept hold of her hand so she stayed close.

She had Chris next to her on her left, Evie now between her legs and the twins near Chris taking in their new surroundings.

"Hi, can I help you?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and she tried to smile politely when her eyes landed on an older man. He had a kind smile and his eyes were soft and warm as he looked across the kids before he looked over at (Y/n). He stood in front of them, a smile still gracing his face and both hands on his hips. He had an authoritive aura about him and when (Y/n) saw Nash written on his shirt, she knew he was the captain Eddie was always talking about.

"I was wondering if-" (Y/n) broke off when Evie suddenly let go of her hand and tore off into a sprint.

Her little arms stretched out in front of her and she squealed, kicking up dust behind her from how fast she bolted while (Y/n) was distracted. "It's daddy!"

(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and bit down on her lip when she looked at who Evie had set her sights on. That wasn't Eddie. The hair was too light and short on top. The shoulders were too square and set high. The circular tattoo on his forearm was on the wrong arm for it to be her husband.

"No Evie that's not- I'm so sorry." She looked back over at the Captain, apologies clear in her eyes and written across her face as she turned to her boys. "Stay there."

She hitched her bag higher up her shoulder and took off in a sprint after her daughter who squealed again and caught the attention of whoever it was she had her sights set on. Her steps faltered and her smile deflated instantly when the man turned around and Evie realised it wasn't Eddie.

"Hey cutie, where'd you come from?" Evan grinned from ear to ear and crouched down in front of the toddler who looked like she wanted to reach out for him but suddenly didn't dare.

"It's not daddy," Evie whispered and looked over her shoulder up at her mum but when she looked back at Evan, she managed a cheeky smile that made his heart jump.

"No, it's not sweetie."

"I'm Buck… does your daddy work here?" When Evie nodded, Evan kindly held his arms out to her. "We've got some brownies upstairs, do you want one?" He looked up at (Y/n) and when she nodded, Evan picked Evie up and sat her down on his hip.

"I'll be one minute, you stay with Buck, okay?" (Y/n) kissed Evie's cheek and let Buck take her upstairs. He was the one Eddie kept talking about, the person he was partnered up with a lot who he really got along with. She knew he would be safe and fine to look after Evie for a little while.

Once he began his ascent up the stairs, (Y/n) turned and headed back near the fire truck to see what the boys were doing.

A fond smile took over her face when she saw Bobby with Chris. He was stood beneath the fire pole, Chris hoisted up in his arms to help him slide down the pole as if he were one of the team.

She got out her phone and took a quick photo before she took another step closer and looked around.

"Where are the twins?" Her question was directed more at Chris than at Bobby and she glanced around, feeling her heart pick up pace when she couldn't see the boys anywhere.

"I believe they wandered upstairs, they wanted to see the pole properly." Bobby set Chris down to his feet and smiled across at (Y/n) as he pointed upwards. He had given the boys the okay to head upstairs and come down the pole from the top as long as they were careful and he said he would wait down here for them. But he figured they got sidetracked as they hadn't come down yet.

"I'm really sorry-"

(Y/n) could feel her panic bubbling up inside of her as she moved her hand from her hip to rub across her forehead. The boys were as good as gold until they were about to make first impressions. Then they would run for their lives and go off wandering even when (Y/n) told them to stay put. But if Bobby had told them it was okay, (Y/n) couldn't really blame them.

"Don't be, families are welcome here, you know. They're fine to wander around and take a look. Who are you here to see, by the way?"

"Dad works here." Chris tilted his head back and grinned up at Bobby before he reached across and took (Y/n)'s hand.

"Oh, who's your dad?"

"Eddie." (Y/n)'s soft voice matched the melting look in her eyes and she couldn't help how she smirked when Bobby rose his brows and let out a quiet 'huh'. Clearly they didn't have Eddie pegged as a family man.

When Bobby uttered a soft "He's upstairs," (Y/n) nodded and let Chris guide her over towards the stairs.

"Oh, you found one too, huh?" Glancing around the kitchen, Hen smiled over at Evan when he climbed up the stairs with a little girl in his arms. She had just found two boys looking at the fire pole. Nobody told them they would be expecting guests today. They weren't told of friends or family coming down, not that it was an issue. But Hen was surprised. That made three kids so far that they had come across like an Easter egg hunt.

A tender smile flooded Evan's face when he saw the two boys who sat down at the table with Hen. Evan nodded proudly and bounced the little girl on his hip, aiming for the fridge until she squealed and stopped him dead in his tracks.

Eddie ducked his head down to miss a low-hanging beam but he hurried past the pool table when he suddenly heard Evie's voice.

What was she doing here?

"Hey boys," When he reached the dining table, Eddie leaned over and ruffled the twins hair and kissed the top of their heads before he headed over to Evan. "Hey baby. I see you found my kids." His grin made his eyes crease and he held his arms out when Evie wriggled against Evan to get over to him.

"Daddy!"

Eddie lifted her up and kissed her cheek before he settled her down on his chest and nuzzled his nose against hers to make her squirm.

"They're your kids?" Hen looked between the boys and the girl in Eddie's arms. He never mentioned having a family. He never even said if he was married or not. All they seemed to wangle out of Eddie was that he clearly went home to someone when he left shift. He was always happy to be here but also eager to leave.

He didn't come out for drinks that often after a shift either and he checked his phone a lot, but then again so did Evan and he didn't have a family waiting at home for him.

"You have three kids, and you never said anything?" Evan reached his hand out and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing one leg over the other.

Why didn't he tell them? Why wouldn't he say he had kids or bring them down to the station sooner? He had seen Hen bring Denny and Bobby brought May and Harry down all the time. They all brought their kids and partners down to see the team and get to know the station and what they did here.

"Wow, you have three kids?" Ravi wandered over from the sofa where he had been watching tv. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked between the kids as he leaned back against the balcony rail with a smile. But as all eyes looked at Eddie, they watched a dangerous smile overtake his face and he shook his head.

His eyes locked on the stairs and Eddie watched Bobby walk up with the rest of his family and his dangerous smile broadened.

"Try five." Eddie scratched his jaw and pointed across at (Y/n) and Chris before he reached his arm out and let Chris barrel into his side and wrap around him like a vine.

When Chris moved to sit down opposite Hen and the twins, Eddie curled his arm around (Y/n) instead and reeled her into his side while Evie stayed curled up in his other arm. He smoothed his thumb up and down her hip and leaned his forehead against hers as (Y/n) pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Where's number five?" Evan did a quick sweep around to look for the fifth kid but he couldn't find one. He could see three boys and one cute little girl.

"In production." Eddie leaned back and curved his hand a little tighter around (Y/n)'s waist so his fingers could skim across her bump that Evan clearly failed to notice. They only had four months to go before they could meet baby number five, possibly less than that if their next child decided to come early like Evie had.

"Are you trying to make your own football team with all these kids?" Ravi glanced his eyes around the annex before he pushed off the balcony and moved towards the kitchen. If he was aiming for his own team, Eddie was roughly halfway there. Especially with a handful of boys and only one girl so far.

"Something like that."

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) leaned her cheek on Eddie's shoulder and smiled when she felt his lips against the top of her head. Her arms moved to wrap around his chest and when Eddie leaned forward, (Y/n) leaned with him. She watched him ease Evie down into the chair in front of him so she was sat beside Chris.

She began patting her hands against the table like she was drumming out a beat for everyone. When she stretched her hands out for the cup in the middle of the table, Eddie quickly grabbed it first and slid it down the end of the table towards Evan. "You're not having coffee baby, nice try."

Evan grabbed the mug and put it in the sink and found a juice bottle in the fridge which he handed over to the toddler instead.

"Why did you come down today, I thought you were all going out?" Eddie spoke quietly, hovering his lips over the shell of (Y/n)'s ear until she was shivering and squirming against him.

"I need to borrow the jeep."

"What's wrong with the car?"

It was usual for Eddie to take the jeep to work and leave (Y/n) with the car. Eddie was so used to driving bigger cars and the trucks here at the station that going back to a small car always made his driving worse. And (Y/n) felt safer driving something smaller than the jeep Eddie had. She only drove the jeep when she was desperate and had no other choice.

"Mum broke the car-"

"Chris! I didn't break the car." (Y/n) unravelled an arm from around Eddie so she could swat Chris's shoulder playfully. She pressed her lips into a thin line when he tipped his head back into her stomach and started laughing. "The car's got a flat tyre and I can't change it. Can I take the jeep, I'll come back and pick you up later when you finish."

They had been really lucky this afternoon when they went to get in the car that Nate had noticed the back tyre was deflated. (Y/n) checked it over but she couldn't put the spare on, not when she was five months pregnant and she didn't have the energy to be messing around with it.

So they had all taken a walk down to the station in hopes of robbing the jeep for the afternoon. (Y/n) would bring the kids back out later and pick Eddie up from shift so he didn't have to walk home after an eighteen hour shift.

"I'll give you a ride home. Save bringing your troop back out later to get you." A grin spread across Evan's face as he took a seat at the end of the table. He didn't mind dropping Eddie off, they finished at the same time today anyway. And it saved (Y/n) having to drag all the kids back out this way to go back home again.

"Thanks. I'll get you the keys in a minute."

"Do you boys wanna look round the fire truck before you go?"

Three pairs of eyes suddenly set on Eddie, staring up at him with pleading looks waiting for permission to go and look. The moment Eddie nodded, the twins were up and at the stairs and Chris followed behind, kissing (Y/n)'s arm as he passed.

"Do you want to go too?" Evie tilted her head back to look at Eddie and she shook her head. She didn't want to go anywhere, she was fine at the table.

She pushed her empty juice bottle away and scrambled up onto the table so she could crawl across to Hen who happily picked her up and gave her some attention.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Eddie's shoulder and smiled sweetly up at him as she moved her arms from his chest to wrap around his neck instead. Her smile broadened when Eddie turned so his chest was merged with hers and he looped both arms around her waist, rubbing his hands up and down her hips. Although they kept moving dangerously south.

"I'll go grab the keys… will you need a leg up to get in the jeep?" His teeth punctured down into his lower lip when (Y/n)'s arms tightened around his neck. He watched the way she pursed her lips and leaned her head to the side with one brow arched.

"What do you mean by that, Eddie?" If he was going to start teasing her, she was going to start using his name. He was used to petnames rolling off her lips, hearing his name meant he was either in trouble or in for a good night.

"Be careful what you say next." Bobby muttered and patted Eddie's shoulder as he walked past him to get into the kitchen.

"You think you can get up that high?" He taunted while his eyes did another sweep up and down her frame and lingered on her stomach for a few extra seconds. Eddie loved winding her up. It was always easy to get (Y/n) riled up and it didn't matter if she knew he was joking, she always went along with it and teased him in return.

"Hm, maybe not." Pushing up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) pecked his lips before she wriggled out of his arms and took a look around. "Maybe I should find a fireman strong enough to help me. Any suggestions?" Her eyes darted over his arms, squinting as if she were scrutinising him and she patted his shoulder as she walked past him like she was dismissing him out of that category.

"I think that's a challenge I can win."

(Y/n) bit down on her lower lip, trying to distort her smile as she looked across at Evan when he got up from the table. It was clear in his eyes that he was trying to wind Eddie up and taking a few steps closer to (Y/n) as if he was about to do something clearly sparked the competitive, teasing side in Eddie.

She looked across at Evie who was giggling on Hen's lap even though she didn't really understand the conversation or what they were talking about.

She felt a familiar set of hands on her arms and her breath caught in her lungs when Eddie spun her around so she was facing him.

Her arms moved and she was about to fold them over her chest but she reached out quickly when Eddie bent down. (Y/n) had no idea what he was doing. A gasp tumbled past her lips and she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself when he held her thighs and lifted her up. He lifted her high enough that she had to loop her legs around his hips when she realised he wasn't about to put her down anytime soon.

His hands stayed curled tight around the back of her thighs and he grinned when she leaned forward, pressing her chest into his and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"If you drop me-"

"What, like this?" Eddie bent his knees and loosened his hands on her thighs until (Y/n) slid down his torso just a little.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and kept her face smothered in his neck so she didn't have to look around at the team who were laughing while Evie cheered. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she pushed forward until he dug his fingertips into her soft thighs to reassure her he had a good grip. He wouldn't purposely drop her. He would never.

"Am I strong enough for you now?"

***

(Y/n) took a step back into Eddie, hovering over the threshold when she opened the front door only to be faced with Chris. He had either been about to open the door for them or he had been waiting near the door for them to come home.

A grin spread across her features and she reached out to wrap her arms around him when he pushed forward and curled around her.

"Were you waiting for us?" She mumbled softly into his hair as she kissed his temple. She felt Eddie's hands on her hips and he slowly walked the three of them forwards so they could get inside and shut the door.

They both looked up when Carla walked out of the kitchen, the twins following at her side. "He's been waiting anxiously for you to come home." She spoke with a soft smile which made Chris lean forward and press his face into (Y/n)'s stomach.

He giggled into her shirt which made her shiver and when (Y/n) started to rake her hands through his curls, he tilted his head back and rested his chin on her stomach instead so he was looking up at her.

"You said you'd find out today. What is it?"

"It's… a baby."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder with an unamused expression at her husband. She watched Eddie grin and ruffle Chris's hair when Chris groaned and nudged him. All the kids knew they were going to find out if the new baby was a boy or a girl and they all wanted to know. Especially Chris. He was excited to tell his friends and his teachers at school.

Chris stayed tucked under (Y/n)'s arm as they followed Eddie into the living room where Carla and the twins were setting up a movie to watch.

A grin broke out on Eddie's face and made his heart jump in his chest when he looked over at the sofa. Evie was having a power nap. The three year old was laid on her side, curled up on the cushion with her blanket tightly bound in her arms against her chest.

Moving across to the sofa, Eddie crouched down and tenderly reached out to brush his thumb across Evie's cheek. He didn't really want to wake her up from her nap, but they were home now and she needed to wake up to hear the good news.

"Hi baby," He spoke softly and quietly when Evie's eyes fluttered open and a tired smile pulled at her lips when she realised who was talking to her.

She didn't have to speak. She shuffled across until Eddie took the hint and reached out for her. He lifted her up and switched places so he was sat in her seat and she was laid on his chest instead. Her head tucked beneath his chin and her arms bound around his chest as she wriggled to get comfy against him.

Chris slumped down on the sofa next to Eddie while Finn sat next to him and Carla stood near the end of the sofa. She was eager to find out what the new baby would be, if there would be another little girl around to spoil or an army of boys to outnumber them.

And Nate shuffled across to sit between (Y/n)'s legs instead with his arms folded over her lap and his eyes concentrated on her stomach.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie tilted his chin down so he could look at Evie. She could barely keep her eyes open and he knew in a few minutes she would be back to sleep if she didn't get overexcited about the new baby.

He took to gliding his hand up and down her back while Chris leaned his head on his shoulder.

"If it's a sister… will I still be your baby girl?" She snuggled deeper into Eddie's chest while he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

His eyes drifted over to look at (Y/n) and he could see her biting back a soft smile. Evie was so used to Eddie saying she was his little girl, his only girl apart from (Y/n). If they had another girl, she wondered if that nickname would disappear and if Eddie would have to start calling her something else.

Eddie had been in two minds about it. Up to now he had been content to say that he had one little girl and three amazing boys. He would love another girl. He loved all the kids equally, but Evie seemed the most like him, his little shadow, whereas Chris was most like (Y/n), and the twins would always switch between them. But Eddie also wanted Evie to stay his only girl.

"You don't have to worry about that, baby. You're gonna have a little brother."

"It's a boy?" Nate pushed up on his knees and pressed his lips and nose against (Y/n)'s stomach as if he was trying to see through her stomach to see the baby.

"Yep. I'm well and truly outnumbered by my boys." Leaning over, (Y/n) pressed a kiss to the top of Nate's head and began rubbing her hand up and down his back as he clung to her front.

There would be five boys in the house and only two girls.

"Another boy." Chris grinned and leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him to snuggle into his side. While Finn nudged his glasses higher up his nose and grinned up at Carla who was clapping happily.

"I'm daddy's only girl." Evie mumbled happily as she moved her arms higher to lock them around Eddie's neck. She shuffled up a little higher so she could tiredly look up at him with a grin and she nudged her nose against his, prompting him to give her a kiss.

"No, I've got two girls. You're my baby girl, and mummy's my best girl."

Evie nodded and began to giggle when Eddie peppered kisses all across her cheeks. She could live with that. She could very happily be his only little girl and share the title of Eddie's only girl with her mum. She slumped back down onto his chest, giggling and squirming when Eddie bound his arms around her in a bear hug and Chris leaned over to hug her too.

Soon they would have four boys and only one girl. For now.

[amirasainz]

Lewis x daughter!Reader ( she is like a teenager) and the poor thing is sick. So instead of being a typical teenager, she needs her dad to take care of her, watch Barbie movies with her, braid her hair, .... Despite being worried for his daughter, Lewis loves that she wants to spend all of her time with him.

I hope that makes sense

Ahh, so cute. I am in love with this.

Enjoy reading and send me requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Moments Like These

The low hum of the rain pattering against the windows created a soft, soothing backdrop inside the cozy living room. Lewis sat on the couch, glancing at his phone and frowning at the time. He’d been out all morning for work, but his mind hadn’t left home once. YN, his 17-year-old daughter, had been sick for the past two days, and while it wasn’t anything serious, the stubborn fever and constant sneezing had turned her usual teenage energy into something much quieter.

He sighed, putting his phone away and glancing toward the hallway that led to her room. A part of him missed the usual chaos, the way she’d barge into the room talking about the latest drama with her friends or her plans for the weekend. But right now, she was curled up in bed, likely scrolling through her phone under her blankets, too tired to do much else. He hated seeing her like that. His protective instincts were on full alert, making him feel useless every time she coughed or sniffled.

“YN?” Lewis called out softly from the living room, hoping not to disturb her if she’d managed to fall asleep. There was a moment of silence before he heard a faint, muffled voice coming from her room.

“Dad…?”

He stood up immediately, abandoning whatever half-hearted attempt he’d made at distracting himself and walked toward her room. Pushing the door open quietly, he found YN bundled up in her bed, her head barely peeking out from under the covers. Her cheeks were flushed from the fever, and her normally bright eyes were heavy with fatigue.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked gently, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

She nodded, then shook her head. “Not really. Everything hurts,” she admitted, her voice slightly hoarse. She sniffled and reached for a tissue from the bedside table, blowing her nose with a miserable groan.

Lewis frowned, reaching over to place a hand on her forehead, brushing her hair away. “You’re still warm,” he murmured. “You need to rest, YN. Have you been drinking water?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t help,” she muttered, sounding as frustrated as she did tired. “I hate this. I feel gross, and I look gross.”

Lewis smiled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t look gross. You just look like someone who’s sick. It happens to everyone.”

“I’m not everyone,” YN grumbled, her voice still holding that teenage dramatic flair even through her exhaustion. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re still my favorite mess,” he teased gently, and YN rolled her eyes, though a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my dad.”

“True,” Lewis said with a small chuckle. He reached over to grab the glass of water from her nightstand, holding it out to her. “But you’re still drinking this.”

YN made a face but took the glass obediently, sipping it slowly before handing it back. “I’m so bored, Dad. I’ve watched everything on Netflix, and I don’t want to sleep anymore.”

He knew she was feeling restless. She’d been cooped up in her room for days, which wasn’t something YN was used to. Even when she was just at home, she was always moving, always chatting, always doing something.

“Well, I could braid your hair?” Lewis suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “Like when you were younger.”

YN’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, though she seemed amused by the idea. “You still remember how to braid?”

Lewis shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I wasn’t always this rusty. I did your hair for years, remember?”

She smiled a little, and that was enough to convince him.

“I mean… sure,” YN agreed, sitting up slowly and shifting so her back was to him. “It might make me feel better.”

Lewis couldn’t help but smile. He fetched the hairbrush from her desk and sat behind her, gently running the brush through her hair. He had to admit, it felt nostalgic in the best way. He could almost see the little girl she used to be, sitting in front of him, laughing and chatting about her dolls or some game she played with the neighbors. Now she was taller, moodier, and had her own world of thoughts and friends, but in moments like these, she was still his girl.

As he began braiding, YN’s voice cut through the comfortable silence. “You know… I was thinking. Maybe we could watch a movie together or something.”

Lewis paused for a moment, grinning to himself. “What kind of movie?”

“Barbie,” YN said without hesitation, turning her head slightly to glance at him.

He chuckled. “Barbie? Really?”

“Yes. Barbie movies are great, don’t judge,” she retorted, her voice carrying a mock warning.

“I’m not judging. Just surprised,” he admitted. “But hey, if you want to watch Barbie, we’ll watch Barbie.”

“Which one do you want to watch?” she asked, sounding a little more awake now, more engaged.

“Uh… I think I remember you really liking the one with the fairy princesses or something?”

“Dad,” YN groaned, though she couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. “You mean Barbie: Fairytopia.”

“Right. That one.”

YN laughed softly, though it turned into a cough, and Lewis immediately put the hairbrush down, patting her back gently. “Easy there.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, waving him off before leaning back again. “Let’s watch that one, then. I haven’t seen it in forever.”

Once the braid was finished, Lewis grabbed the remote, set up the TV, and the familiar opening tune of Barbie: Fairytopia filled the room. YN sank back into her pillows, looking much more relaxed now, her head resting against her dad’s shoulder as they watched together.

“Do you miss this?” YN asked quietly after a few moments.

Lewis glanced down at her. “Miss what?”

“You know… me being little. Like, before I grew up and stopped wanting to do stuff like this,” she said, gesturing toward the TV.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “I mean… yeah, I miss it sometimes. You were always running around, making me laugh, wanting to spend all your time with me. But,” he added quickly, “I love who you are now, too. I love that you’re growing up, that you have your own life, your own thoughts. I’m proud of you.”

YN’s expression softened, and she looked away, her voice quieter. “I miss it too sometimes.”

Lewis smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Well, you’re still here with me, sick or not. And for what it’s worth, I love having you around, no matter how old you are.”

YN didn’t respond right away, but she leaned into his side, and Lewis could feel the tension leaving her. The Barbie movie played on, filling the room with colorful animation and familiar voices.

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered after a while, her voice barely above a breath.

“For what?”

“For being here. For everything.”

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Always, kiddo.”

As the rain continued to tap lightly against the window, the world outside faded, leaving just the two of them—father and daughter, sick days and Barbie movies, and the unspoken comfort of knowing that no matter how much things changed, moments like these would always be there.

[chlmtsdoll]

i need some dad art moments from u !!! 🩷

Yes yes yes. I don’t want kids so writing out the fantasies in my fics helps the girl instincts pass iykyk. 😉

Fluff | Dilf Art | he’s a soft parenting kinda guy so here <3

It had been past your girls bed time when you were found snug, on the couch as you sat cuddled up with Art in front of the tv. The two of you were getting ready just in time to start your movie night after setting your eight and two year old daughters tucked away for the night. So as they were sound asleep, you and your husband could finally get some time to wind down together. Just you and your Art.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight, sweets ?” Art questioned you with a fond smile as he relaxed against the pillows by your side, a blanket and remote in hand with him.

“Hmm, I feel like a drama tonight, I dunno- or.. romance?” you slowly began to grin as you always wanted to get Art to feel the feels with you when it was your turn to pick the movie. Which led him to playfully groaning as he shook his head. Every week it was the same pick with you.

“Baby..” your husband chuckled as he pulled your legs across his lap. “You always wanna watch a drama- - I’m not sure if I’m up for tears tonight.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as Art furrowed his brow in nervousness that you’d put on something that would have him reaching for the tissues for two hours.

“But crying during movies is fun!”

“Sure it is, but, there’s tons of other kinds of movies- - it is October now. What about something spooky?” The man did his best to convince you of watching anything other than another sappy film and you sighed as you sat in thought of his suggestion of scaring you into being paranoid all night.

“I suppose… but nothing too much. I wanna sleep tonight.” You titter and Art smirked.

“You’re fine. And if you do get scared, that’ll give me an excuse to hold you all night without you complaining that I’m suffocating you.” Art pulled you into his chest smoothly and you let out giggles as he wrapped both his broad arms around your body covered in your soft colored pajama set and comfy slippers.

Art was leaving kisses on your face before you heard the sound of tiny feet hitting the floor boards from the hallway. Approaching the living room, you and Art both looked down the way in which you heard the noise, sitting up when your two year old came running to the both of you.

“Daddy!” She yelled as she climbed the couch and collapsed straight in Arts embrace without any notion to you in your husbands grasp.

“Hey ! Hey.. angel, what’s wrong ? Did Lily wake you?”

Your daughter shook her head, and you leaned up as the tired child mumbled a bunch of unknown phrases with the occasional “daddy” in between being all the two of you could understand. You’d still been working on her vocabulary at the time being. So far, all she really knew was to ask for food, daddy, mommy (although she hardly used it because she always just wanted Art) and well.. Art.

He was her whole world these days. Most of the time ignoring you whenever her dad had been their to play and let her do parkour off of him. They were conjoined at the hip and it did give you more time to rest when Art had been home to be with the girls when you’d been the one with them most of the time while he was at tennis. It was like the moment he walked through the door they hadn’t even known of your existence anymore. Art would make jokes about being their favorite, but deep down he knew to remind the girls to love and appreciate their mama as well.

You smiled fondly as you reached to stroke your daughters hair, she laid her head on Arts chest like she’d been ready to go to bed. Wrapping her little arms around her dads torso as best as the sleepy girl could, like he was a pillow made just for her. It made your heart swell.

“I guess she couldn’t sleep again.”

“Yeah.. couldn’t sleep, my love?” Art coo’d as he glanced down at the baby, holding you and her as well as he could in his lap. He’d gotten better at it when it was a necessity to make himself shareable for all three of his girls. Most of his time at home with you all had been filled with each of you wanting him more than anything really, so luckily there was more than enough love to go around even for the busy man.

You leaned in and kissed the girls head softly before standing up.

“Well baby, it’s way past your bedtime. You gotta sleep so let’s get you up to your room-” as you reached to lift her from Arts hold, it was immediate whines and cries that come from the two year old.

“No!” She huffed and her pout was clear as she clung to Art away from your hands. Your shoulders dip in defeat as you sighed and looked up at your husband who already had an all knowing look on his expression of how this always went.

She had been like this gradually the last couple of weeks. She wouldn’t go down in her own bed or anywhere else unless Art held her to sleep. She wanted him every second of the day when it was time for her naps or just in general. Which hurt your heart at times when he’d be off at work because the little one would cry ferociously for her dad even with you. And as precious as you thought it was when they were together — her curled up in his arms, sought sound asleep with her cute cupids bows to her lip slightly agape against him, and eventually he would fall asleep with her as well. You wanted to be cuddled by your husband to sleep some nights too.

“C’mon baby, you gotta go to sleep. Daddy and I will stay with you, okay?..” you tried to take her hand, get her to want to sleep in her own bed with her own stuffed animals and right across from her big sister. But her stubbornness didn’t budge. She just fought off your hands and held on to Art as best as she could, tucking her face away in his shirt as you speak with soft whines.

“Princess, mommy wants you to sleep in your bed tonight. We gotta listen to her wishes…” Art tried to help with his soft but taunting tone. And your little one only pouted more, she turned away from you and hugged Art as the waterworks started. Your husband sighed and glanced back up at you.

“Just.. for tonight, why don’t we let her stay with us, babe?”

Art’s gentle nature matched his voice as he cradled his daughter closer in his embrace, leaving less space for you.

“But what about movie night..” you could of pouted too if you hadn’t remembered you’d been the one co in charge here, but Art only gave you a reassuring smile as he held the back of your head and brought you in for a sweet kiss.

“We can still have a movie. We’ll just have to keep quiet till she’s asleep than I’ll bring her back up. How does that sound, sweetness ?” Your husband handled it all so well, even better than you at moments you had to admit. Though you knew by the time your daughter had fallen asleep and your movie was over, you’d definitely be too beat for there to be any time to allude to anything else you and your husband could of spent doing. But you had to accept that. And even with your hand softly easing up on your little girl, you could only let it slip away with a soft breath before kissing goodbye your night alone with your husband.

“Fine, I guess it’ll be alright for tonight.” You spoke softly before looking down at your little one and rubbing her back tenderly.

Art couldn’t say he didn’t hope that he could’ve gotten just one night in between your daughters tough bedtime streak to enjoy you, especially since he just got a break from work. But as much as it would have been hard to say no to you, it was even harder for him to disregard his baby girl asking for him to bed. He just couldn’t resist. And to you it was never easy either — with the way she pleaded to be coddled. She had her daddy’s eyes, blue orbs with just a swirl of brown hinted in there looking up at you with pre-readied tears. His features standing out in her was always your weakest point especially when Art had looked right back at you to ask of her to stay. The night would come when you’d just have to send her back to bed. But that wasn’t gonna be tonight.

As the evening went on, you and Art did finish your movie and the man made sure to keep both of his girls supported comfortably by his side, you palmed the side of your daughters cheek as well as Arts and looked up to watched as his tired eyes stayed on the screen ahead of you three.

“How are we supposed to make more babies if we can’t even get one out of the way?” You whispered with an endearing smile as you traced the light patch of subtle on his face and Art couldn’t help but chuckle softly before leaning in to kiss your temple.

“The right time will come, my love.”

[cherrybomblust]

Dadsbestfriend!Simon x younger!reader

Midnight rendezvous

Notes~ reader is in her early 20s, Simon in his early to mid 40s.

Tags~ older man x younger woman, drunk!simon, confessing feelings, drunken kissing through mask, major touchy touchy Simon, sweet!simon, sexual mentions, interrupted,Masturbation. No major smut!

“Here you go si” I put the glass of water down beside him, a couple of folded blankets on his lap. His head is lolled back against the sofa, just raising his hand to soft grasp your hand. Your heart was beating out of your chest, mouth running dry. He pulls you down so softly, as if you’d break apart like expensive china.

He took up so much of the sofa, his thick thighs spread and his shoulders wide. In complete silence you took the sight in, the way his Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed air, his eyes relaxed shut. His mask contoured to his jawline, his strong nose, plump limps begging to be kissed. He reeked of alcohol, bourbon mixed with smoke, you wanted the scent wrapped around you like a warm blanket. His thumb began rubbing the soft skin of your hand.

“Come on si, drink some water” you whisper but all he does is crank his head to look at you, his deep brown owns raking over your face, then further down. “God” he groans “think I love ya” he slurs, your eyes slightly widening at the words, drunken words that’s all they are. He doesn’t mean it.

The hand that was once innocently grasping your hand, started to trail to your thigh, continuing the small circles that sent a warm shiver down your spine. “Prettiest girl I know” his eyes darken “ can’t stop thinking about these soft thighs, ther all I think about”. You feel like your hearts about to explode, this is your dad’s best friend, a gruff 40 year old man who shows no interest in love. Showing interest in you, a girl who still lives with her dad, wrapped in an existential crises?

He pushes himself up, his face so near, you feel his breath hitting your skin through his mask. “S-Simon” he shushes you, his strong hand coming up to run his fingers through your hair. “Really doing something to me love” his voice low, soaked in lust, in love. Kiss me Kiss me Kiss me. Just take me right here.

You close the distance, pressing your lips to the soft fabric, you could taste the strong whiskey making you wince. You needed more, you needed to feel the suppleness of his lips, his tongue down your throat while his hands explore your figure.

For the first time your hands come into contact with him, your fingers following the lines of his pumped muscles that strain against the tight fabric of his shirt. You want to tear it off and mark every inch of exposed skin. “Fuck simon” you whimper as you graze the large bulge growing in his pants,before pushing your lips back to his.

you grow frustrated, the clothed kissing not satisfying the deep hunger for the older man sitting infront of you, with his hands messily groping every inch of your skin.

“Simon have you seen my daughter” your heart stops, you rip yourself from Simon’s grasp, the sounds of heavy breathing evident with in the living room.

You quickly make yourself look busy by setting up the couch, ignoring the way your thighs stick together due to the wetness built by the acts before. All Simon does is smirks and lays back “in ere mate” drunkenness still evident in his words.

Confined within the four walls of your bedroom, all that’s on your mind is the man sleeping in your living room, your core aching at the thought of what could’ve happened. The thought of being ravaged by your dad’s best friend while he’s just in the room over. fuck .

Unbeknownst to you that same man is fucking his hand on your couch, to the thought of taking you over the kitchen table. The thought of you laying in your bed, thrusting two fingers inside your sopping cunt while quietly whimpering his name. Him replacing those fingers with his thick, weeping cock when he pushes through your bedroom door and takes you right there and then.

Maybe next time.

[corroded-hellfire]

could we see the boys going into the hospital to meet eliza after she’s been born? 🥺

This just warms my heart so much. Thank you for giving @munson-blurbs and me the sweetest little prompt for this family 💜

Words: 2.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The moment that Wayne puts his truck in park, both Munson boys are unbuckling their seatbelts. Luke, who sat in between his grandfather and big brother for the entirety of the ride to the hospital, feels like he’s going to tear his curls out of his head when neither of them gets out of his way fast enough. 

“Relax, Luke,” Wayne says as Luke jumps out of the truck with a huff. “Your sister’s not goin’ anywhere. She can’t exactly walk yet, ya know.”

“But I’ve been waiting forever to meet her,” he whines. “Like…a year!”

“We’ve only known about her for six months,” Ryan says with an irritated eye roll. 

“Will you two hush up? We’re walking into a hospital,” Wayne chastises, gesturing his grandsons through the automatic sliding doors before him. The strong smell of antiseptic invades their nostrils as they step inside, making Luke wrinkle up his nose in displeasure.

The entire ride up in the elevator to the third floor and the walk down hallways towards the maternity ward, the excitement buzzing between the Munson men is palpable. There’s a pressure building the closer they get, the boys like pots that are boiling over, ready to pop their lids. Every squeak of their shoes against the white linoleum floor feels like it’s echoing their heartbeats. Finally, they step into the waiting room they’re to meet Eddie. When thirty seconds pass without their father appearing, Luke starts fidgeting and heaving out impatient sighs. 

“Where is he?” he groans. “Doesn’t he know we’re coming? That we’re here?”

Wayne lovingly musses Luke’s hair. “Hold your horses, buddy. He’ll be right out.”

Sure enough, Eddie comes around the corner moments later. Exhaustion paints dark circles under his eyes, but his bright smile doesn’t leave any doubt of his excitement. 

“Are you guys ready to meet your sister?” he asks, wincing when Luke begins cheering and dancing like he just scored the winning touchdown. “Remember, we have to be calm and quiet around the baby. We don’t wanna scare her.”

Ryan nods and holds his forefinger to his lips while Luke tiptoes cartoonishly, making more noise than if he just walked normally. They stick their little heads around the door and see you sitting up in bed and holding a little bundle of blankets. 

“Hi, guys,” you loudly whisper, not to wake the baby. Even though the hospital is making far stranger and louder sounds than anyone in the room could. You yawn, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see their reactions to their baby sister. 

Eddie walks over to stand by your side, motioning for his sons and uncle to join him. As the boys lay eyes on their new sister for the first time, their faces mirror one another’s as their eyes widen and little jaws drop.

“She’s so little,” Ryan says, awestruck. He reaches out to touch her before sharply pulling back, looking to you for permission. 

“It’s okay, Ry,” you reassure him, punctuating the statement with another yawn. Your heart melts when he brushes his forefinger over her closed fist. 

Eliza follows your lead, tiny mouth opening to let out a yawn of her own. 

Luke wrinkles his nose. “Why is she tired?” he asks. “She doesn’t do anything!”

“Babies need lots of sleep,” you tell him. “Even more than your dad does.”

Eddie playfully narrows his eyes at you. “You’re lucky you just gave birth to my daughter.” My daughter. It hadn’t felt real when he’d said it when Eliza was still in utero, but now that she’s here, it holds a stronger meaning. 

Wayne blinks back tears, trying not to show emotion, but his glassy gaze gives him away. “She’s beautiful, guys,” he manages, clearing his throat. 

Eddie claps him on the back, both men sporting matching grins as they look down at Eliza. 

Luke inspects his sister’s face, then her little fingers. “I was this small?” he asks.

“Smaller,” Eddie tells him. “You were a little over six pounds. Eliza here is just over seven.”

Ryan smiles when he hears her name spoken out loud, still in disbelief that this name that’s been going around now belongs to a person and it’s this tiny person who just came into the world. 

Eliza’s eyes crack open just enough to tell she’s looking in Ryan’s direction, like she already knows that he’s her big brother. 

“Hi, Eliza,” Ryan says softly, a huge grin plastered on his face. “I’m Ryan. I’m your oldest brother. But I’m not old.” 

“I’m Luke,” Luke chimes in, waving at his new sister. “I’m the one who would always sing VeggieTales to you every night while you were in Mama’s belly.”

You know Luke referred to you as “mama” for Eliza’s sake, but with all the hormones rushing through you it still makes you tear up. 

“Do you boys want to hold her?” you ask.

They glance nervously at one another, despite the fact that they both really want to. They’ve been around Amelia Harrington and Tiffany Sinclair as babies, but they’ve never held them, especially not when they were this small and fragile. 

“If you’re not ready, that’s okay,” Eddie tells them comfortingly. 

“No, I want to,” Ryan pipes up.

Wayne makes room for Eddie to bring the chair on the other side of the room up closer to the bed. Ryan sits down when his dad nods at him, while you make sure the blanket is securely swaddled around Eliza. 

Eddie gets down on one knee next to Ryan. “Okay bud, you’ve got to support her head, yeah? She’s not strong enough to hold it up on her own so you have to help her out a little.”

Ryan nods as he scoots all the way back in the chair, eyes wide behind his glasses. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie tells him with a reassuring grin. Of course their father can see the nerves popping up in his two boys. “It’s easy. And I’ll be right here next to you if you need or want me to take her, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan says, trying to portray more confidence than he feels.

You carefully hand Eliza to Eddie, who coos a bit once she’s in her father’s arms. Eddie holds her in the crook of his arm and Eliza lets out a content little sigh. 

“Such a Daddy’s girl already,” you tease.

Eddie grins, still over the moon that he has a daughter. A daughter with you. And she’s finally here in his arms. 

Wayne leans in to show Ryan how to hold his arms the best, balancing his elbows on the chair’s arms. “Just like that,” the older man says. “And you’ll hold her little head right here.”

Eddie carefully places Eliza into Ryan’s arms. Ryan’s lower lip juts out, overcome with emotion, as he looks down at the baby he’s holding. Of course, he’s always known that he’s a big brother, taking on the responsibilities and duties that come with it. But Luke’s been around since before Ryan can even remember. They’re only two years apart, it’s always been this way for them. Eliza is his new baby sister, though. A renewed sense of big brother love and protectiveness comes over him as he looks down at the dozing baby. She’s so little and she’s going to be coming home soon. There’s going to be a baby in the house. All these things that Ryan already knew are finally sinking in for him. It makes him chuckle for some reason. As he gazes down at Eliza, her tiny face pinching up and tiny coos coming from her tiny lips, Ryan just grins as a wave of happiness comes over him. 

Eddie stands between Ryan in the chair and you in the bed, staying closer to his son just in case. As you watch Ryan with Eliza, you can’t help but get choked up by another round of emotions. The memories of meeting Ryan for the first time are still clear as day to you, as if they happened yesterday, not over five and a half years ago. The little six-year-old who was too shy to even say hello to you at first. It’s amazing how quickly after meeting him you came to adore the person that he is and have such an immense love for him. It seems like you only just blinked and there he is, holding his little sister. Eliza Marie Munson. Your and Eddie’s daughter. Even without the hormones coursing through you this would be emotional, but they’re certainly not helping either. 

You slip your hand into Eddie’s and look up to see his own eyes filling with tears. Images of Ryan being born, being the small little baby coming into the world must be playing in his mind, you think. And now to see he’s grown into this compassionate, intelligent, handsome young man who is holding his baby sister with so much tenderness and love.

“H-Hi, Eliza,” Ryan says as he gazes down at her. “I knew you would be small but you’re smaller than a loaf of bread.”

You, Eddie, and Wayne all share a chuckle at that.

“I’m happy you’re here now,” Ryan tells her. “I’ll do my best to make sure Luke doesn’t get you into too much trouble.”

“Hey!” Luke pouts.

“Is he wrong though?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at his youngest son—now his middle child as well.

“That’s besides the point,” Luke scoffs. He notices the tiny Band-Aid on Eliza’s foot. “What’s that for?”

“She had to get a shot,” you explain. “In her heel.”

Luke grins. “For scurvy?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, Vitamin K, you little weirdo.”

“Oh,” Luke sighs dejectedly before adding, “but you need Vitamin C to prevent scurvy!”

Eddie leans in and whispers into Eliza’s little ear, “don’t ever listen to a word he says, please.”

Ryan looks up at Luke and nods his head towards their sister.  “You wanna hold her?”

“Is it hard?” Luke asks his older brother, face creased with worry. His voice has a slight tremor, as if he’s unsure if his nerves are getting the better of him or not.

“So easy,” Ryan assures him. “Just gotta make sure you got her head.”

“Okay,” Luke decides with a nod on finality. “I’ll do it.”

Eddie can’t help but think Luke sounds more like he’s agreeing to be a test subject for a science experiment. Ryan carefully hands Eliza back to Eddie and gets out of the chair so Luke can sit. Eliza coos again and you furrow your brow as you look at your tiny baby in your husband’s arms.

“Hey, I know you love your Daddy—we all do, but I’m the one who carried ya for nine months and then pushed you out of my body. Why don’t you make those cute noises for me?” you ask. 

“Maybe she’s trying to yell at him in baby language,” Luke says as he sits down. “Who are you and why are you holding me and why do you have so much hair?!” Luke’s impersonation of what Eliza’s high-pitched voice would sound like has you and Ryan laughing. Acting just as childishly as the actual children in the room, Eddie sticks his tongue out at Luke. 

Ryan shows Luke how to hold his arms and Wayne watches on with a smile, proud his grandson remembers the things he teaches him. Slowly, Eddie lowers Eliza into Luke’s awaiting arms. 

Luke giggles once he’s finally holding her on his own.

“Oh my God, she barely weighs anything!”

“Tell that to my hoo-ha,” you mumble under your breath and slightly adjust the way you’re sitting in the bed.

“Hey, Eliza,” Luke says. At the sound of his voice, Eliza cracks her eyes open to inspect the new person holding her. “I’m gonna teach you all the things. Like ice skating and swimming and bowling and a whole lot of other stuff! And I’ll beat up any boys who are mean to you or break your heart.”

Your heart swells at the declaration he’s making to his sister—and you have no doubt he means what he says. She’s only been in this world a few hours and they’re already such amazing big brothers to her, you think. 

All of a sudden, Luke starts laughing, but tries to keep it softer for the baby.

“Look, she’s smiling at me! She knows I’m the funny one.” He sticks his tongue out at Ryan, emphasizing the fact that Eddie was acting with the maturity of a ten-year-old when he just did the same thing.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s what it means,” Eddie warns, but not soon enough. 

“Ew!” Luke exclaims, wrinkling his nose. “I am not changing a poopy diaper, nope!”

Eddie takes Eliza from him. “I got this,” he says softly. 

You watch as your husband delicately changes her diaper, unable to hide his disgusted expression that matches Luke’s. Loving his daughter with every ounce of his being does not negate the odors that come along with her.

Your gaze drifts over to Ryan and Luke, who are watching their father intently. They take in every gentle touch and every soft word and smile Eddie gives to the newborn. You can feel your emotions welling up just thinking about how they’ll be such great dads one day because they have the best role model. 

“Good as new,” Eddie proclaims, wrapping Eliza back up in her blanket. “You wanna hold your granddaughter, Wayne?”

Tears momentarily cloud the older man’s vision. “Give ‘er here.” He opens his arms and Eddie places the baby in the crook of his elbow. “Well, hi there, Ms. Eliza,” Wayne says with a smile. “We’re so glad you’re here. ‘S kind of a crazy family, but you’ll get used to us.”

As he says it, it dawns on you: this is your family. A doting husband who can make you feel loved without even trying, an uncle who would give you all the moon on a string if you asked, two stepsons who keep you laughing on your worst days, and now your daughter, who will grow up in a home filled with love and happiness. 

As Wayne takes the boys back home—it’s past bedtime, and they have school in the morning—you can’t help but stare at Eddie. He’s exhausted from helping you through labor, but he can’t stop smiling. 

“You did such an incredible job growing our little girl,” he murmurs into your scalp. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you more.” You look at him, then back down to the newborn in your arms. “But I’m pretty sure she’s the most loved.”

[moongreenlight]

GIRLIE PLS I NEED MORE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE x PRICE 😭😭

Instead of starting every ask response with “sorry it took me so long to get to this I suck” I’m just going to issue a blanket statement that I have like 45+ asks in my inbox rn and I get so overwhelmed looking at them that I just ignore them until I need to write something. I love you all for messaging me I love hearing your ideas and compliments please don’t stop sending them just bear with me as I sift through them. <3

Also- I got legit death threats on my first post like this. I’d like to make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that this is a LEGAL AGE GAP. It’s not grooming, it’s not predatory, it’s ENTIRELY LEGAL. You’re early twenties. He’s mid-to-late-thirties. Please do not bite my head off.

Anyway I’m back on my Price and his young housewife bullshit below the cut. Xoxoxo

Here’s the OG post if you need a refresher

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

There’s this scene in the MW3 campaign where Price and Farah are talking about where she got the missiles from and he’s trying to shoulder up with her, but she just shuts him down in the end. (Like always I hope you’ll trust me. Implicitly) (John Price the man that you are!!!!!!) and I really think that’s the household dynamic. He’s always the biggest in the room, but he’s got this incredible reverence and respect for women who can out-bitch him. Bends his rigid spine BACKWARDS for you. Would move mountains if you’d only ask.

Doesn’t always have to be serious things. Like maybe you’ve made friends with some moms in the neighborhood (it’s a point of pride for him that they’re all minimum 5 years older than you.) and they all go to this obscenely expensive Pilates class at six in the morning. You mention in passing that you’re signing up and the suburban white dad in him makes his ears perk.

“‘N how much ‘s this class going to cost me?”

“Dunno. Think it just goes on the account.”

“Course. Gym membership doesn’t cost enough as it is.”

And then all it takes is him seeing you in a matching workout set for all of his protest to die down. For SURE makes a comment about how he ‘didn’t know it’d be this worthwhile’

Loosely following that point, I think any real arguments get hostile very quickly. He’s not so egotistical that he won’t apologize, but I’m certain that it’s like pulling teeth to get him to that point. He can hold a grudge unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Borders heavily on immature when the two of you are in the thick of things. Starts shit just to start shit. (Secretly because he just loves makeup sex. Would rather eat you out until you’re sobbing than actually say the words “I’m sorry.”)

Having thoughts about him bringing you to some military ball. The both of you dressing up and sliding into the car that was sent for you just to sit on opposite ends of the backseat and not speak a single word. He burns through a cigar in record time and you toss back a few glasses of champagne. You both put on appearances getting out of the car. Hook your hand around his bicep while he shoves you inside with his hand on the small of your back. Hissing nasty quips back and forth about making this quick. Few hellos. Show your faces and then you can get home and get away from each other. Putting on appearances only goes so far, though, because when John is pissed- everyone feels it. Sucks the life out of a room and replaces it with an eerie feeling like a bomb’s about to go off.

He leaves you alone with a few other wives. Pulled away by Laswell with a promise of a ‘quick’ meeting. He comes back half an hour later fuming when he sees that somehow you’ve been pulled away from where he left you and found company chatting with his boys at the bar.

He gruffs some greetings before dragging you away by the arm so roughly that you have to stifle a yip.

“Are we leaving?”

“No.”

“So what is it, John? You’re making everyone think we’re miserable.”

“We are miserable.”

He’s yet to stop yanking you away. You have to do an awkward half-jog to follow him down a short hallway just outside the washrooms.

“Christ, would you just-“

“You look like a slag in that dress.”

He about throws you straight into the corner at the end of the hall. Muscles in his jaw ticking under the force that he’s using to grit his teeth.

“Sorry?”

His lips are brushing the shell of your ear. Bullying you further back into the wall. You’re entirely taken aback by his ferocity; especially because he usually prefers you wear something much more revealing than this. Some twisted point of pride, him seeing all the men your age drooling over you even after knowing you’re on his arm.

“Ought to let the boys pass you around. See if that won’t sort out that fucking attitude of yours.”

Theres some more protest from you, but it was entirely useless given how worked up he was. He ends up making good on his threat and shoving you into Ghost’s side when he brings you back out. He says something, but you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. Though you assume it’s a half-warning, half-explanation by the way Ghost snakes an arm loosely around your waist and gives a sharp nod. You get off relatively easy all things considered because Ghost is the only one smart enough not to take Price’s words at face value and sneak you away to some coat closet. That’s a permission granted only when John was present and in his right mind.

I cannot stress enough how much it gets him off to see you pregnant. Not like sexually, but he is nothing if not a glutton when it comes to feeding his ego. Likes it when you wear shirts that hug your swollen belly tight so he can see exactly how much your body is changing. Even better if they’re crop-tops that show off the skin that’s now littered with stretch-marks from growing his babies.

I have been saying this, but just to make it clear, he wants a small army of children. Like enough to have one of those trashy reality TV shows about how many kids you have. (In reality I’m getting 4/5 kids in total vibes) Loves coming home from work and seeing you carefully stirring a big pot on the stove while bouncing a baby on your hip, pulling a clingy toddler around on your leg, and situating your school-aged kids with their homework at the table.

But he most definitely hires a live-in nanny to help you out. Knows it’s not fair to leave you with that kind of responsibility. But also it just makes him so hot to see you mothering his kids that he needs to be able to take you away and not have to scramble to find something to occupy the kids.

Makes the nanny take over bath time more often than not so the two of you can take a bubble bath yourselves. He loves the casual intimacy of pouring two glasses of wine and having thirty or forty minutes to yourselves.

Having this visual of you before you’ve started having kids sitting in the tub after being strangely quiet all night. He offers you a heavily-poured glass of red and you’re a little glassy-eyed and staring up at him but making no move to take it.

“You alright, doll?”

“Mm?”

“Said you alright? Don’t want a drink?”

A long moment of silence from you. Long enough for him to perch on the rim of the tub and gently tip you up to look at him by putting a few fingers under your chin.

“John, I think I’m pregnant.”

“So no drink, then.”

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Baby Addams.

Pairing: MaleWednesday x reader.

Warning: Mention of kidnapping, Mention of forced marriage, pregnancy, Yandere Male Wednesday. Gomez and Morticia from 1991. (poor transition Spanish and Italian) If you speak any of these languages feel free to correct me nicely thank you.

Summary: You were Wednesday's wife, with a baby on the way. (sorry summary sucks)

A/n: This is inspired by the story Yandere male Wednesday , by @teresalace I asked her permission so yea. Check out the story.

Three years, since you met Wednesday, Three years, since he took you away from everything you knew, Three years since you were married into the Addams family, and finally Wednesday had got what he wanted like he always did. You were pregnant, carrying a new addition to your husband's family. Gomez and Morticia were overjoyed about the news.

It was a dim, gloomy morning, and the massive black blanket lay on your growing stomach "Mi alma, wake up." a monotone voice whispered in your ear as you slowly opened your eyes, his plump lips kissed your shoulder, tracing down your arm to your wedding ring, sweet nothing whisper in Italian in Wednesday's normal deadpan voice before he sighed "My parents are coming." As he getting out of the king bed.

You sighed and sat up as best as you can with a six-month baby bump, the room was dark in aesthetic and semi-normal, with hints of white and a little red amongst the black. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the large custom guillotine that hung above the bed, which luckily was unable to move, You had to convince and seduce Wednesday for that to happen.

Getting up from bed was somewhat difficult, but you managed to waddle to your shared walking closet, black and bright, warm colors were separated down the middle of the metal bar. You quickly showered and threw on a blue maternity dress, earrings to match, and a necklace. The walk downstairs was a little hard even when Wednesday helped, your home was gothic victorian style like your in-laws but less big. Swords, old timely guns, and torture devices littered the walls as while as mirrors, the rugs were dead animals. The furniture was you guessed black and white with red, and some armor and statues stood around the living room.

You both headed to the kitchen; It was a modern kitchen that your husband allowed you to decorate, the only rule? It had to be in his aesthetic which you took. Wednesday leads you to the kitchen island and helped you onto the dark wooden counter stool "Good morning Wednesday" you smiled at him tiredly ready to break the silence "Yes, it is quite a bad morning today." he hummed and sat a glass of water down in front of you and began to make you breakfast. Despite being tricked into this marriage, he was a good husband, dare you say the best; yes, he's..well, him, he never made you feel unloved and was surprisingly romantic. The apple didn't fall that far from the tree, though he wasn't over-expressive with his displays of affection. A loud shriek rang out, making you jump. "I hate that doorbell," you whispered as you took a bit of your breakfast that he put down. "I will get it, Mi Alma" he walked out of the kitchen to the front door, Wednesday inhaled, and opened the door. His dad held a brown box, and his mother smiled at him. "Our boy." She cooed, opening her arms in a grand gesture "Mother, Father. It is a displeasure to see you." Wednesday acknowledged looking boredly between his parents, then sharply turned and walked back to the kitchen; Gomez and Morticia headed to the living room, the door eerily closing behind them.

You swallowed the last bit of food when Wednesday walked in "Come." he offered his arm, you locked your arm his and hopped off the stool.

"There's the woman who stole our son's black, dead heart and hunts his every tortured thought!" Gomez exclaimed loudly as you walked into the living room, earning a threatening "Father." from Wednesday which Gomez ignored. "Hello dear." Morticia gracefully walked to you, almost appearing to be floating "How far along now?" She asked, smiling at you. "Six mouths." You smiled back "We wanted to give you this." She looked back at Gomez, who held up the box. "Shell, we look through it together?" She asked pulling you away from Wednesday and to the floor where Gomez sat the box. Morticia opened it and took out stuff one by one "Here's Wednesday Teddy when he was just a little boy." She cooed and passed you a black teddy with stitches, the head ripped off "Cute.." you grimace, sitting it beside you. She pulled out kid-sized knives and swords. "Oh, this was his favorite toy!" She pulls out a toy guillotine, big enough to chop off a finger or a Barbie's head. 'So the obsession started during childhood. great.' you stared at it hopelessly.

"Son." Gomez touched Wednesday's shoulder, both of them watching their wives interact with each other, one with joy and the other hiding her disdain poorly. Gomez only got a side-eye look from his son, letting his father know he was listening, eyes back onto you "Let's talk." Gomez pat Wednesday's back and walked across the living to the hallway. Wednesday huffed and walked out.

"What do you so desperately need to talk about?" Wednesday stared his father down, wanting to be back within your essence "Son..are you sure she's the one for you? She doesn't scream...Addams material." "Are you saying you disapprove of her?" "Not exactly-" "Because if you are," Wednesday took a step closer to the older Addams "You will never see me or my children. She is my every soul, she cut open my heart and made me bleed for her. I would walk through heaven and back to please her. I would kill for her," his eyes narrowed "Even if it means you." a pregnant silence fell upon the two. If it was a cartoon you would be able to see a row of dots typing above their heads. Gomez grinned and shook his son back and forth. "You have truly found your own Morticia!" he laughed, swung his arm around the tensed Wednesday, and walked back into the room.

You yawned as you laid back into the bed; your in-laws stayed until the dark of the night arrived. Though weird, they were a joy to be around; the love they shared, you had wished for since you were little. You had gotten it from a man who rarely showed emotion, but love doesn't have to be over the top; love could be quiet yet meaningful and coming from someone like your husband. It was more special.

"Are you ready Mi alma?" Wednesday asked, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head; you tiredly nodded as the lights of the room were turned off by themselves; in the stillness of the dark and at the edge of sleep, you whispered a "Te amo." Wednesday allows his lips to curl upward just a bit in the safety of the night "Ti Amo"

Transition

Mi alma.

My soul.

Te amo.

I love you.

Ti amo.

I love you in Italian.

[luveline]

kbd universe is my absolute favorite 🤩 maybe a request for when the new baby is home and she’s going through a colicky phase and won’t sleep and reader and steve are super stressed and doubting if they can do this and avery overhears and reassured them they’re the best parents? (srry if this is too specific, any direction you go will be amazing!!)

ty babe ♡ kisses before dinner au

Avery Harrington wakes up with her little sister's hand over her nose. She snorts in surprise, bed springs creaking formidably as she dislodges the small hand and rolls away from her added heat.

Bethie, the younger sister in question, has been sneaking into Avery's bed at night to put distance between them and the nonstop crying of the new baby. The baby, Avery notices, seems to be crying right now from downstairs. 

She lets her curiosity get the better of her. Slipping out of bed, she makes sure to cover Bethie with the blankets again before she leaves just like their dad does, imitating Steve's gentle cheek touch before creeping away. You and dad finally got rid of the baby gates (though they've been on and off over the years, you've retired them until the youngest learns to crawl), making her journey down a secret one. 

She can hear two voices at once just under the rattling baby cries. Steve's louder and yours softer, both speaking with the love Avery's come to expect. 

"Maybe try holding her legs higher," you suggest. 

"I think I've held her every way a baby can be held without hanging her upside down." 

"I know, honey." You're always tired lately, your voice hoarse with fatigue. "I can have her again. Pass her over." 

You get sweet when you're tired. Her dad gets cranky. He told Avery once that that's why you're good together, but Avery knows you can be just as cranky after a while. 

Avery pauses in the door of the living room. You're sitting on the farthest seat of the leather couch while Steve's standing, passing the baby to you carefully. She cries and cries no matter how much caution he shows. 

"What if she never stops?" Steve asks. 

"She will. She'll get too tired to keep going." 

"I heard about this baby who had his heart in the wrong place." 

"Steve. Honey, sit down. You're tired." 

"I can't sleep while she's crying like that. No point." 

Avery frowns as the conversation between you both devolves. She doesn't want to make things worse by showing you that she's awake, watching and waiting in the dark as you pat the baby's back desperately, and Steve's eyes get glassy. 

Avery has seen her dad cry loads of times. At the movies, the radio, sad stories. Steve cried when she broke her pinky finger, and cried again when they took the cast off. Avery isn't sure she's seen him get upset over something like this. 

He whispers something. You whisper back, trying to hold his hand in the dark, but you stop when he says, "What if we can't do this?" 

"Steve, we have to. This is it. And we want to, so… I don't know." You sound dejected yourself, looking down at the baby where she refuses to take a bottle hopelessly. "Maybe we can't do it." 

Avery can't know that neither of you truly feel this way, that you're both tired enough to catastrophize. She just watches her dad, an unshakable pillar of support, start to waver, and she knows you've got it wrong. 

"Daddy?" she asks. 

Steve rubs his eyes with a rough hand. "Ave?" he asks, plastering a meek smile over his face. He's one of the handsome dad's, everybody says so, probably because he's always smiling. 

"Sorry, did the baby wake you up?" you ask. 

Avery grins as Steve opens his arms and runs into them. Too tired to lift her up, Steve stays crouched for the hug, but eventually sits on the floor, pulling Avery into his lap. Closer, Avery cringes at the baby and her screaming. 

"Beth smushed my nose," she says. 

Steve turns her face to check it over. "You look okay. Does it hurt?" He squeezes her cheeks into a smile. 

"No," she laughs. 

Steve gives her another hug. "Well, that's good." 

He just cuddles her. Avery melts into his touch, the sound of the baby's cries feeling further away, Steve's hand covering one of her ears. 

"Sorry," he says into her hair. "I know it's not fair. Baby's just figuring out what she needs." 

"You said you can't do it." 

Baby shrieks. Steve pulls Avery's head back. "What?" 

"You and mom." Avery turns to look at you. You're frowning, bobbing the baby against your chest. "You said we can't do it." 

"We were being silly," Steve says. 

"We're tired," you agree.

"And your sister won't stop crying, we're worried she's not well, and it's really tiring, Ave, but we weren't thinking straight. Of course we can do it," Steve says breezily. 

"Yes, you can. You're the best mom and dad ever. Ever ever!" she says severely. "You can do everything, I know you can do it. Maybe I can have her and you guys can sleep and then tomorrow you'll be ready again." 

You and Steve laugh at the same time, chuckles that warm her heart, though she knows she's being shot down. "That's really nice of you, but that's okay. Me and mom got this," Steve says, brushing the back of his finger down her cheek.

Avery preens at the attention, back going lax in his arm. Steve leans down to hug her, his chin digging into her shoulder, heavy with fatigue. She doesn't tell him to move. 

It's a miracle that the baby seems to run out of steam not long after, marked by your happy sigh, "Aw, good girl. You're hungry, I knew it. You just don't like these bottle nibs." 

"See? I told you you could do it," Avery says.

You offer her a grateful, adoring smile. "You're my smart girl, that's why." You bop the baby on the nose with the tip of your finger. "And you're my tired girl." 

"What about me?" Steve asks. 

"You're my pillow, handsome. Come up here, I need to lean on you. Ave, you can be my blanket." 

[natashaslesbian]

Sleepy Bear

Summary: Natasha finds an unusual way to help you sleep

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :))

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You had no idea how long your girlfriend had been doing this for you. Sleep had never come easy to you, only did you get a rest when your exhaustion would force your body to shut down. Your thoughts leave you restless each night, the anxiety had always been there. Your mom started you in therapy when you were 7, the nightmares should have stopped by then. She tired everything, your mother, each week was a new medication. Your dad on the other hand, he couldn’t have cared less. It was him who marched you into the hospital demanding they scanned your ‘daft brain’ as he put it. There was nothing to be found. Years of therapy only brought the diagnosis of anxiety, much to the disappointment of your father. Dr Grey was a nice lady, but she couldn’t quite solve your problems. You were too young to put your anxiety into words, you just knew it made you too scared to sleep. You stopped therapy after your mom died and your dad refused to pay, you were left to your own devices.

You met Natasha 2 years ago at the coffee shop you work at. She fell head over heels the second she laid her eyes on you, not that she’d ever tell you that. You had your eyes on her too, it took you months to realise that she was purposely going out of her way to visit the shop multiple times a week. It started with lasting looks and then lingering touches when you passed the redhead her iced caramel oat milk latte. Soon you were slipping her extra cookies and then one day she slipped you her number, you never looked back after that day. After a few months you finally let Natasha come over to your apartment, she was horrified at the state you were living in, sleep was the last of your worries. Your dad kicked you out after you told him you were gay, you took what you could and found the cheapest little studio available. The paint was chipped all over, the cooker didn’t work and you were on the verge of eviction. The widow was desperate to move you into the compound, despite your discomfort at the idea. Eventually you agreed to take residence in one of the spare rooms, and surprisingly you settled in straight away. Your life fell back on track after that and you and Natasha had grown closer and stronger than ever, you even shared a room now, Natasha had to move the ring in her bedside draw to Clint’s room.

A slightly sharp corner had you stirring slightly, the assassin quick to flash you a worried glance. You settled again straight away, rolling your face into the cold window. The day you had finally told Natasha about your anxiety was a relief, you cried for hours that wednesday. Since your mother, no one had been so kind. You were so afraid she would run a mile, but she sat with you for all those hours, just holding you. Nat promised to spend every sleepless night with you, lord knows she had her own problems when it came to sleep, but you somehow found comfort in each others restless nights. Often you would take turns in reading to each other, some nights you would go for a stroll around the grounds of the compound. But your favourite form of medicine was the car. Natasha would wrap you up in her fluffy blanket and strap you snug into the passenger seat, the gentle hum and sway of the motor would eventually lull you into a slumber. It took months for your girlfriend to convince you to even try the idea, you hated it at first, what did she think you were, a baby? “I know you’re not an actual baby, but your my baby” she would say “let me take care of you” how she even thought of the plan was a mystery to you and you definitely didn’t want to admit it was working.

Natasha pulled into the 24 hour gas station, the car coming to a scratchy stop. “Mm, Tasha?” You mumbled, half asleep still. “I’m here sweetheart, I just need to get some gas” she said “would you like some snacks? Or do you wanna sleep a little longer?” Your belly rumbled right on cue “choccy biscuit” maybe you were still a baby at heart, “one pack of chocolate biscuits coming right up” the beautiful red head said, oh how you thought her locks were just gorgeous. “You’re so pretty” you whispered, eyes only half open “thank you baby” Natasha laid a kiss on your warm lips and you couldn’t stop the little squeal that escaped you. She wasn’t gone long enough for you to miss her, considering you continued to doze in her absence. You heard the familiar commotion of your girlfriend climbing back into the drivers seat, you peeled your eyes open to give her a sleepy smile “here you go sleepy bear” your favourite biscuits were deposited into your lap and you whispered a small thanks.

You contently nibbled for the 45 minute journey back to the compound, while Natasha quietly sang along to whatever trash was on the late night radio, you always thought they played the worse songs during the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2:36am, Natasha had been driving you to sleep for over an hour, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. “I love you” you said, breaking the silence “I love you too y/n” Natasha replied, a bit unsure at why you were suddenly all mushy. “No” you continued “I really love you” a red light gave Nat the chance to flash you another worried look, she softened when you saw your eyes glistening back at her, and the smile engraved on your face “you’re welcome baby girl” you swear she could read your mind. With the conversation at a happy standstill you decided to close your eyes again, just for a little nap until you were home.

When you stirred again, the rough car seat had become your plush mattress and your head was laying comfortably on your pillow. It quickly became Natasha’s as she climbed into bed with you “can I have my own pillow sleepy?” She giggled “no” you sighed, carrying the sound to the end of your breath “it smells like you” you mumbled “but I’m right here?” The widow kindly shot back “oh yeah” you said, eyes still tightly shut, you still failed to roll back over though. “You’re not gonna move are you?” Natasha said, you shook your head against her arm and she didn’t hesitate to haul you up into lap, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your head perfectly slotted into the crook of her neck. “Sweet dreams y/n” Natasha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that ring locked away.

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I wrote this when I couldn’t sleep and I almost cried

-Astara

[lovelytsunoda]

slumber party // lance stroll

summary: when lances wife gets sick the morning of their daughters sixth birthday party, he offers to step in and play host. but of course, that’s before he finds out that it’s a slumber party, and he’s stuck with an army of six year olds until ten am the next morning.

the party was planned down to every painstaking detail so that it was perfect

right down to the princess decorations they started putting up a day early to the disney cake that chloe was making herself

it was going to be perfect

until y/n wakes up on the morning of with a blistering headache and nausea

she thinks they’re going to have to call off the party. she’s in no condition to handle a group of children

until lance steps in. he’ll call esteban and mick and between the three of them, they should be able to run a party without a hitch, right?

wrong.

they all arrive at the same time, and when the girls go running into the naive living room and start setting sleeping bags up under the skylight, the panic in his eyes is evident

“did your wife not tell you it was a slumber party?”

“no, she did not.” he bites his lip, running his fingers through his hair. “but how hard can it be, right?”

The other mother just laughs before she goes back to her car

horrible decision, really, but he leaves esteban and mick in charge while he runs upstairs to check on y/n (and get more details on the slumber part of the party)

and when he comes back downstairs, the girls are crying and one of them is hiding under the couch

“i left you alone with them for five minutes, esteban! what did you do?”

esteban looks at the floor, and mick rolls his eyes.

“somebody thought it was a good idea to open the afternoon with scary stories.”

“esteban, they’re six!”

“one of the girls told him he looked like the rat from flushed away and he decided the best course of action was to tell her that the house was haunted and micheal meyers would get her in her sleep.”

“this house was built in 2017 and I’m pretty sure nobody died here!”

he puts on an old barbie movie, and the girls calm down enough that they sit on the floor to eat party mix and gummy bears while the boys go over the game plan in the kitchen.

“what did you like doing when you were six?” lance asks desperately “there has to be something!”

“karting.” esteban shrugs.

“i cannot take ten six year olds to the karting track.”

but that gives him a different idea

which is how they end up in the simulator room trying to load Mario kart instead of the fia approved programming

which turns into an all out war between the girls

well

more like the army of six year olds against estie lance and mick

lance definitely lets his daughter win

chloe drops by dressed head to toe like a disney princess and brings the cake

scotty brings pizza

please please please imagine lance giving all these little girls princess manicures

his daughter defo makes him wear a plastic tiara

when the kids finally conk out and go to sleep around nine thirty (and esteban because he’s fucking tired), he goes upstairs to check on his wife while mick starts to clean up

she’s curled up in bed with the dog, buried under blankets

but she could hear the laughter coming up through the floor

“the girls are having a great time, honey.” she says sleepily, pulling him into bed with her “you guys are doing a great job.”

“i know. but please, for the love of god, never leave me in charge of a slumber party again. also, you might need to explain to mike and my dad why a ton of six year olds were using the sim to play mario kart.”

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