#and said person is in vanilla team :/

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello, my goddess. So there is a huge heat wave in Europe currently and I would like to request some Charles where he takes extreme care of his daughter. Maybe him also being a bit overprotectiv and worried about her in the heat. You can choose the kids age!

Thank you so much and keep hydrated!

-🍁🍂🔥

Heatwave

It was only 9:32 in the morning, and Charles was already sweating.

Not because of the Silverstone heatwave that had all of Europe in a chokehold.

Not because the tarmac shimmered like a stove-top under the relentless sun.

No, Charles was sweating because his three-year-old daughter, Yn, was with him for the race weekend, and he had made it his personal mission to ensure not a single UV ray dared lay a finger on her fair, precious skin.

"Charles, mate," Lewis said with a chuckle as they entered the paddock, "she's not going to melt."

Charles shot him a look.

"It’s thirty-seven degrees, Lewis. Thirty-seven! Her skin is porcelain. You think this sun respects porcelain? No."

Lewis raised his hands in surrender, sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose. "Alright, alright. I’m just saying... you’ve packed enough sunscreen to start your own skincare line."

Charles was undeterred. He kneeled down next to Yn, who was busy trying to spot butterflies in the paddock flowerbeds. Charles adjusted her jumpsuit again for the seventh time that morning.

"Are you comfortable, mon ange?" he asked softly.

"Uh-huh," Yn said, nodding. "I saw a bug!"

"That’s very nice. Just remember—no bugs in your hair, okay? Papa worked hard on your bandana."

Lewis leaned over and whispered, "I didn’t realize you were also a fashion stylist."

Charles didn’t blink. "I ironed that bandana. Twice."

---

During media obligations, Charles was hyper-aware of his daughter’s presence.

She sat on a little stool next to the Red Bull cooler in the hospitality tent, kicking her feet and munching on apple slices. Every few minutes, Charles would lean over during a break, gently tilt her sippy cup toward her mouth.

"Drink some more, ma chérie," he said.

"But I just did!"

"That was two minutes ago. Hydration is key."

"What does high-drat-on mean?"

"It means water makes your cheeks bouncy and pink. Like marshmallows."

Lewis, who was pretending to scroll through something on his phone nearby, burst out laughing.

"Marshmallows, Charles? Really?"

Charles didn’t look up. "You laughed. Now go get more watermelon."

Lewis blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You laughed. Go. Watermelon."

Charles turned his attention back to Yn and handed her a small tub of yogurt. Lewis, grumbling but secretly grinning, walked off toward catering.

---

At lunch, all the drivers were gathered in the shared hospitality lounge. It was a rare moment of camaraderie between teams, drivers lounging in their team gear, sweaty from FP2, plates stacked high with salad, pasta, and yes—a generous supply of watermelon.

Yn had made the rounds, charming everyone effortlessly with her big brown eyes and half-eaten carrot stick. At the moment, she was perched on Carlos’s hip, giggling as he made car noises and zoomed her around the buffet table.

"Watch it! Ferrari coming through! Vroom vroom!"

"Beep beep!" Yn shouted happily, arms in the air.

Charles froze mid-bite of his pasta salad.

"Carlos!"

Carlos turned innocently. "What?"

"Too close to the windows! The sun, Carlos. The sun!"

Carlos blinked. "The curtains are drawn."

"The sun reflects! Her skin!"

Carlos backed away from the window like it was cursed. "Okay, okay! Indoor race it is!"

Lewis leaned over, whispering to Max, "You think he sleeps with an umbrella over her crib?"

Max nodded solemnly. "And probably sunscreen under his pillow."

---

The only moment Charles allowed his body to physically unclench was when he found Oscar and Ollie in the corner of the paddock garden.

Yn sat between them under a shaded canopy. Oscar held a small spoon with a perfect scoop of vanilla ice cream. Ollie had a portable fan pointed directly at her face, whirring gently.

"Ahhh," Yn said as the cool breeze hit her cheeks. "It’s like Elsa."

Oscar chuckled. "You’re the queen of the paddock, little one."

Charles approached slowly, as if approaching a rare bird he didn’t want to scare off.

"Are you two...using a ventilator on her?"

"Battery-powered fan," Ollie said with a smirk. "We’ve upgraded to dad-level racecraft."

Charles beamed. "I’m so proud. Truly. Grid sons of the year."

"She wanted to run around but we told her we’re on a strict ‘stationary in shade’ policy," Oscar added.

"I love you both. Deeply."

"We know."

---

An hour later, as the sun somehow got even hotter and the tarmac looked like it was preparing to ignite, Lando had an idea.

"Hey," he said brightly, walking up to Charles, who was dabbing Yn’s cheeks with a damp towel. "What if we took the kids—you know, Yn—and walked the track? Just a little loop?"

The silence that followed was biblical.

Charles slowly turned his head. The look he gave Lando could have turned a polar bear into a puddle.

Lando took a step back. "Or...not. That’s cool. That’s fine."

"Do you want to see the face of a father who hasn’t slept for three nights because his daughter kicked off her blanket and might’ve gotten a chill?"

Lando shook his head violently.

"Do you want to be responsible for frying her tiny baby ankles on tarmac hotter than the pits of hell?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then sit down. And hydrate. And don’t mention the track until dusk."

Lando sat.

---

As the sun began to dip—just slightly—and the media rounds finished, Yn, full of water, juice, apple slices, pasta, watermelon, yogurt, and two scoops of vanilla, sat on Charles’s lap.

She sighed happily. "Papa, this the best day."

Charles wrapped his arms around her tightly, eyes soft.

"Because of the ice cream?"

"No," she said, head resting on his chest. "Because I got to see the fast cars and everyone gave me snacks and I love you."

Charles melted instantly.

Lewis, leaning on the wall nearby, muttered, "Okay. Even I felt that in my soul."

Oscar and Ollie grinned, pretending to wipe tears.

Lewis offered a single slice of watermelon as an apology.

Charles nodded solemnly. "Accepted."

Yn let out a content sigh. "Papa?"

"Oui, ma chérie?"

"Tomorrow, can we bring the big fan? The one that goes woooooosh?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We’ll bring two."

---

That night, as the paddock lights dimmed and the sun finally took a break, Charles sat on the hotel bed with Yn curled up beside him, clutching her stuffed pony.

"You know," Lewis said from the sofa, where he was nursing a smoothie, "for someone who almost incinerated me over watermelon, you did a good job today."

Charles looked down at the sleepy bundle beside him and smiled.

"She’s my sunshine," he whispered. "And you don’t mess with sunshine during a heatwave."

Lewis chuckled. "Noted."

---

Somewhere in the back of the paddock, Lando quietly packed away a kiddie parasol he had bought online that afternoon.

"Next time," he muttered. "I’ll bring shade first... ask later."

Max walked past and patted his shoulder. "Smart. Might save your life."

"Lesson learned."

And with that, the grid slept—somewhere between sunburned, waterlogged, and overfed on fruit.

But Charles? Charles went to bed with his daughter snuggled in his arms, a little rainbow bandana on the nightstand, and a fully-stocked fridge of watermelon slices pre-cut and ready.

Just in case.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you! Stay hydrated, y'all!!!

-♡○♡

[januaryembrs]

YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: @avis-writeshq says -

HELLO HELLO jumping on your 2k celebration reqs because 2K OMG SO DESERVED ‼️🫶

may i perhaps request a spencer reid x fem!reader fic please 🥹 maybe him post prison w new reader and she follows him around everywhere because she’s just instantly enamoured to him 🤭

thank you so so much lovely and congrats again !!!

Description: thirteen years in the fbi and ten weeks in prison does a number on Spencer, only when he arrives back in the office he meets the sunshine rookie that seems rather taken with him.

word length: 2.6k (this really ran away from me)

warnings: post-prison Reid, slightest age gap, Spencer dealing with coming home from prison, gun shooting?

authors note: hozier’s new song 'Too Sweet' + post-prison reid is a need, not a want.

He smelled her french vanilla perfume before he even knew she was there. But then again, it was all he could smell the minute she waltzed into the office with a tray of coffee, like someone had stuck a sweet dessert in the oven and baked it on full. 

“Good morning!” She chirped, winding an arm over his shoulder and setting down a take out cup and a little chocolate donut on his desk, “Pen said you like chocolate, and I mean who doesn’t like chocolate, right?” 

She was potent when she was so close to him, and in one single breath he caught a whiff of her shampoo, before she had flitted over to her side of the desk that sat opposite his, where Morgan once sat. Noticing his hesitance, mistaking it for discontent she paused, almost spilling her own beverage over the potted plant she kept by her keyboard, scrambling to set it on the surface.

“Y-you do like chocolate right? I mean they had strawberry too, I can switch yours with JJ’s, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind-” She splurged, and her face was much too worried considering it was a matter of a donut, particularly considering he was already eying up the way the thick chocolate was melting in the pastry bag.

“Chocolate is great, I love…” He held up the bag to read the label with squinting hazel hues, “Cocoa Caramel delight,”

He had never heard of it.

He had never even seen this brand, but he wanted to quell her nerves even in the slightest. The BAU didn’t have the funds for a new keyboard, let alone time to send her to the ER if she ended up spilling her coffee over her hand. 

She seemed convinced, and he offered her a small smile, not exactly his most enthusiastic, but then again he hadn’t been much of a morning person since he’d come out of prison. He liked quiet, he liked a moment to himself before Penelope called them into the round table for briefing. But she was sweet, too sweet perhaps for the dark nature of their job. 

He could already see it chewing up her perky disposition and spitting her right back out within a year. It happened to the best of them.

But she smiled back at him, a million watt grin that made him think maybe he was being a little cruel. She was still brand new, still trying to make friends and he remembered how hard he tried when it had been his first few weeks on the team. He turned his gaze away from her in shame, reading the way she’d written his name on the cup in a pink sharpie, framing it with two doodle hearts. 

She all but skipped away, sensing he didn’t feel like talking much anymore, and he heard Emily exclaiming she was ‘A caffeine angel sent from the heavens,’ as she handed her the drink. He watched her braided hair disappear down the hall as she bounced over to Penelope’s lair. 

He picked at the cocoa caramel delight with a kind of self loathing he was familiar with, the french vanilla still a saccharine sugar in his nose. 

-

She caught him again; though this time he felt her bristle past his arm, watching the bullets pierce the target paper with an accuracy that only came from fourteen years of practice. 

“Do you reckon you could teach me how to do that?” Her cadence was light and airy, and he had to stop himself from jumping, from slamming the butt of the gun into her nose on reaction, because he knew she meant well, even though she had no idea how damaged he was.

He was still out of sorts from having to look over his shoulder at every second of the day, and he was surprised he was holding it together so far. He supposed shooting the shit out of a target helped.

Because it was just her, looking at him with soft eyes and a smile that could start wars, and he knew she had no idea the effect she had on the walls he’d tried so hard to build in prison. 

She must have mistook his look for annoyance, because she was quick to fumble with her own loaded gun, taking a step back in retreat, worried that she crossed some line she didn’t know he’d drawn.

“Or I could get Luke to show me, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just am really a shit shot and I know that’s pretty useless in the field-” It wasn’t until he flicked the safety on and took a step to follow her did she look at him again hopefully. 

“No, I’d be more than happy to show you,” He cleared his throat, setting his pistol in its holster and stepping behind her as she lined herself up for the fake body meant to resemble an unsub, “We all have to start somewhere. Show me your form,” 

She raised her arms up in front of her, aiming for a few seconds for the spot in the centre of the chest cavity, her finger reaching up for the trigger. 

She shot once, her face hardened for the first time he’d ever seen, and they both watched the paper rip about half a foot down the unsub’s leg. 

“See, in my head it’s hitting dead centre and then by the time I shoot it’s wiggling all over the place,” She explained, scratching her neck and frowning at the paper body, “I don’t suppose unsubs are willing to stand still and wait while the rookie figures out her shot,”

“Your hips are perfect, wide stance means you get more stability against the ricochet,” She tried not to simper at his words, or the way he sidled up behind her, his hands coming up to her shoulders as if he’d known her for years, as if JJ hadn’t told her how much he hated other people’s germs, “It’s in your shoulders you’re losing balance, try relaxing a little,”

But she couldn’t not when he was breathing down her neck, rubbing those long fingers over her shoulder blades trying to get her to straighten out her posture, hoping he couldn’t feel the way her chest rattled with nerves. 

“Relax,” He reminded, trying not to chuckle when he felt her shake her arms out as a means of hiding the way her skin had warmed under his rough touch, “You know, my unit chief taught me how to shoot. I wasn’t at all good at it when I first started,”

“Oh really?” She asked, her breaths feather light as he reached around her and adjusted her grip on the gun, “H-he must have been a good teacher,”

“He was the best,” Spencer agreed, brushing off the fact she was all but putty beneath his hands, “Three steps for the perfect shot; front sight, trigger press, follow through. Always keep your head forward, always keep your dominant finger ready, and wait until you’ve shot to drop your stance,” 

She looked up at him in admiration, and her soft smile was back as his own musk of laundry detergent and chamomile soap encompassed her as his arms did. 

He brought one of those big hands to the back of her head, moving her with gentle ease to look back at the target, a slight chuckle in his voice as he spoke: “Focus, what’s step number one?”

“Front sight,” She echoed him, fixing her shoulders with determination as he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. Taking a deep breath, she murmured to herself under her breath the next step as her forefinger rested over the trigger. She pulled it after a moment of courage, and froze in spot as she watched it hit where the stomach would sit. 

Not a perfect shot, but certainly a lot better than she had been doing. 

Her eyes widened behind the thick protective glasses, and her hands became fists above her head as she squealed in delight. 

“Did you see that- did you see!” She yelled over the sound proof ear muffs they both wore, and he was quick to grab the gun out of her swinging arms, clicking the safety on for her before she could end up blowing a hole in the ceiling. 

“Very good, give it a few months you’ll be a natural,” He complimented with a smile as she clapped her hands in glee, buzzing on the spot as if she’d chugged five energy drinks or doubled up on her coffee for the day. 

He tried ignoring the way his chest warmed seeing her so happy because of him, especially when she looked at him like that. 

--

“You said you needed those files, Dr Reid,” She’d appeared again, like she always did, and he had barely enough time to glance up from the paper he was already inspecting before he was hit by the perfume again, and he looked up to see two bright eyes watching him hopefully. Her arms were piled high with easily a box full of folders he had asked Anderson to find for him, and he saw the way she strained slightly to keep them held tight. 

“Jesus! Let me help you,” She prayed he couldn’t feel the way her heart thumping against the manilla folders as he leaned over to take them out of her grasp, the way her eyes fell to his light smattering of facial hair as his lips were little more than a few inches from hers. Even when his hands brushed hers, and he seemed to realise she was staring, watching her scramble to look somewhere else other than his amused eyes, embarrassed he’d caught her, “Thankyou. And just call me Spencer,” 

“Thankyou,” She echoed, shaking her head with a girlish smile on her face, her cheeks warm with humiliation, “I mean you’re welcome, any time,” 

For the sake of her self preservation he waited until she turned around to smile to himself, pretending he didn’t see the way she muttered under her breath, or that she almost walked straight into the filing cabinet on her hasty exit out of the office. 

“Seems like you have a shadow,” Emily’s voice met him as he heard her heeled footsteps approach, and they both watched their newest team mate almost bump right into JJ as she kept her head down, stroking her hair nervously, “She was super excited to meet you when you were away, said she went to one of your guest lectures you did with Hotch a couple years ago,”

His brows shot into his hairline, something warm flourishing in his chest when he saw her peek back to see the two of them watching her, and she immediately darted for her seat for an excuse to turn her back to them. 

Spencer smiled again, running a hand through his curled locks as if he was trying to think of something else other than the joy that had over come his features. 

She certainly was charming, in an incredibly girlish way, and he wasn’t the only one who thought it. He hadn’t heard Penelope giggling so much since Morgan had left, nor did he miss the way Rossi and Emily watched her darting around in the field, chasing after her as if she needed one of those leashes people had for toddlers.

Or the way Luke had had to talk her out of bringing a stray cat back to the BAU just two days ago because ‘it looked sad and lonely’. 

She was only eight years his junior, and yet he felt like the job had made him too hard, too mature, too tough against a softness like hers.

Girls had never really been interested in him, at least not for him as Spencer Reid, not as SSA Dr Reid. He had the occasional fling, even Maeve in the grand scheme of things had been a budding romance at best, and just the thought of Cat Adams viper-like eyes had him shuddering. 

He barely wanted anything to do with women at the moment, at least that was what he’d told himself every night he’d been fighting for his damn life in prison. 

But it was almost too easy to feel this way about her, like he couldn’t drink in her sweet smell or even sweeter voice fast enough, or bathe in her gaze that melted like rich chocolate when he took a glance her way. 

He didn’t bring it up with her until they were the last few people filing out of the office. 

“I can drive you,” She chirped, almost dropping the contents of her bag everywhere as she rooted for her car keys, and before he could protest, because it was like all he could see now was how eager to be around him she was and he wasn’t too sure he could keep himself from opening pandora’s box, she jingled her keys, that of course had crochet bluebells hanging from them and all but danced past him into the elevator. “Come on, you can have shotgun,” 

“I’ll be the only passenger, doesn’t that mean I automatically have shotgun?” He asked, following behind her as she stood in the elevator with a beaming smile, her finger clicking the ground floor button a bunch of times even though it made no difference how fast the doors closed. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s going to be the best shotgun you’ve ever had. I’m talking you can be Miss Daisy and I’ll be your Morgan Freeman,” And as if her spirit was infectious, he shook his head with a hidden chuckle.

There was a minute of silence between the two as she played with a loose thread on her cardigan, and it was then he took the chance to ask her the question that had been burning on his lips all day. 

“You didn’t by any chance go to University of Pennsylvania, did you?” Spencer asked, noting the way her eyes fell to the floor and how she licked her lips nervously.

“Yeah,” She replied cautiously, fingers clenched tightly around her keyring, “I know it’s not Caltech, but it was pretty good-”

“Didn't you see my lecture with Hotch?” He asked, and his smile widened tenfold when her hands slapped over her cheeks that burned with horror, moving quickly up to cover her eyes, “Little birdy told me you were quite excited to meet me-”

“Oh, Emily,” She groaned, burying her face in her palms, avoiding his teasing expression like the plague, “I knew, I knew she was going to tell you, I’m surprised she didn’t tell JJ first, unless she did and our whole team know I was some crazy girl who liked the FBI agents so much she switched her major,” 

“You switched your major for me?” He asked incredulously and he only laughed harder, one of the first times since he’d come home, when she groaned louder, turning away from him entirely. 

“Shut up, I did not swap my major for you,” She bit back, and she finally met his gaze, her expression an embarrassed wince, “I just… liked the material. You were very compelling,”

“Did you have a poster of us?” Spencer wanted to stop teasing, knew he was being a little cruel, but how could he resist when she shrieked in between laughter, shoving his shoulder with mortification.

“No,”

“Did you kiss Hotch’s picture before bed like an obsessive fangirl?” 

She gestured to him vulgarly as they left the elevator and headed for the car park, and it made a huge difference to the usual adoration she watched him with, but maybe, he thought, it made him like her even more. 

“No more shotgun for you, you’re going in the trunk like an old rug,” She snapped, though he could tell she was still horrified by the way she avoided his delighted hazelnut gaze. 

“Like an old rug?” He feigned hurt, but when they sat in her car, she finally looked over at him with something vulnerable and yet affectionate, like he’d seen her for all she was worth. He reached over the console to squeeze her hand gently, not missing the way her palm clammed beneath his and she struggled for words, so he continued for her, “That’s really no way to talk to your idol, you know,” 

Spencer swore his chest felt lighter than it had in months watching her laugh like that.

[plutosunshine]

What gifts of destiny do you have? Venus trines

Venus trine Moon

Venus trine Moon is like having a built-in emotional hot chocolate machine. Your vibes? Cozy. Your energy? Comforting. People meet you and instantly want to tell you their childhood secrets or ask if you’ve got snacks (you probably do).

This aspect makes your emotional world and your love language play nice together. The Moon handles your feelings, your instincts, your “aww I saw a puppy and now I’m crying” side. Venus handles what you love, how you show affection, and your overall vibe. When they’re in a trine? They high-five each other and go, “We got this.”

You're probably one of those people who just gets others. Not in a creepy “I know your password” way, but in that warm “I see your heart and I made banana bread” kind of way. Emotional intelligence? Check. Natural empathy? Double check. People feel safe around you—like you’d never judge them for crying over a cartoon or texting their ex (again).

In relationships, you’re nurturing but not clingy. Affectionate but not smothering. You know how to love in a way that feels like coming home. Romantic partner, friend, cat—whoever gets close to you ends up spoiled emotionally and probably also with snacks. You’re basically the human version of a warm blanket that listens.

And let’s not forget the aesthetic instincts. You probably have a knack for making spaces feel lovely and emotionally calming—like, “this room smells like vanilla and looks like Pinterest, how??” You bring sweetness into your environment and relationships without even trying. It’s your natural setting.

So yeah—Venus trine Moon = emotional harmony, effortless sweetness, the ability to cry at sunsets and make others feel like they're not weird for doing the same. You're the friend everyone wants during a breakup and the partner that people write poems about. No big deal.

Venus trine Mars

Venus trine Mars is pure cosmic chemistry—like the universe looked at you and said, “Let’s make someone who knows how to mix sweet with spicy.”

This aspect gives you that effortless charm-meets-confidence energy. You’re magnetic without being overbearing, flirtatious without being cringe, and somehow you make going after what you want look like art. People don’t just get attracted to you—they get drawn in like moths to a scented candle.

Venus is all about love, beauty, harmony. Mars is passion, action, desire. When they’re in a trine? They’re vibing. That means your inner lover and your inner go-getter are on the same page. So whether you’re trying to start a creative project, impress a crush, or pick the perfect outfit—you're guided by this smooth coordination of wanting and doing.

In relationships, you’re probably equal parts affectionate and exciting. You know when to be soft and when to bring the fire. You’re not just charming—you’re compelling. The kind of person people remember as “ugh, they were just so attractive and cool and I don’t know why.”

And in creative work? That Venus-Mars flow gives you the perfect mix of inspiration and execution. You don’t just daydream about your Pinterest-perfect life—you might actually build it. With mood boards. And maybe some dramatic eyeliner.

Also, your relationship with pleasure? Healthy. Balanced. Not too much, not too little. You know how to enjoy life, and you probably have great taste—whether it’s in people, playlists, or what snack to pair with a good movie.

So yeah—Venus trine Mars is a gift. It makes your energy feel aligned, attractive, and easy to act on. You’ve got the cosmic green light to be a little flirty, a little bold, and a whole lot of magnetic.

Venus trine Jupiter

Venus trine Jupiter is like the universe handed you a giant, glittery “YES” stamp for life. It’s the ultimate feel-good, good-vibes-only aspect. Venus is love, beauty, charm. Jupiter is luck, joy, and expansion. When they team up in a trine? You radiate warmth like a freshly baked croissant in the sun.

People with this aspect are blessed with big hearts. Like, “randomly buys coffee for the person behind them in line” energy. Your kindness isn’t performative—it’s just how you operate. Generosity is your love language. And when you love someone? Whew. They’re getting affection, encouragement, snacks, emotional support, AND possibly travel plans.

You're also probably a little lucky in love and money—even if things get rocky, Venus trine Jupiter folks tend to bounce back with style (and maybe a new haircut). The universe seems to have a soft spot for you. You attract abundance because you live in that mindset—there’s always more beauty to create, more love to give, more joy to find.

You might have a natural sense of aesthetics too—big, bold, joyful beauty. Venus-Jupiter doesn’t do minimalism unless it’s “Italian villa minimalism.” Think lush colors, dramatic earrings, and laughing at your own jokes while wearing fabulous shoes.

In relationships, you bring sunshine. You’re romantic, optimistic, and probably the type who plans cute dates with themes. You don’t love small—you love out loud. And people feel good around you because your energy says, “You’re safe, loved, and we’re probably going to brunch after this.”

And honestly? You make people believe in good things again. You're the human version of finding twenty bucks in your coat pocket and someone telling you your aura looks amazing today.

So yeah—Venus trine Jupiter is the gift of a joyful heart, big love, and the kind of sparkle that makes life feel a little more magical. ✨

Venus trine Saturn

Venus trine Saturn is like the cosmic version of "loyal with taste." It’s the aspect that says, “Sure, I can fall in love—but only if it has emotional maturity, long-term potential, and maybe a five-year plan.” And somehow, you make that sound hot.

While Venus is out here flirting, curating playlists, and swooning over aesthetics, Saturn strolls in like, “Okay, but can we build something real?” And when they’re in a trine? Boom—magic. You get that beautiful balance of heart and structure, softness and stability. You're the person who brings flowers and remembers to pay the bills.

In love, this aspect makes you steady, loyal, and probably way more romantic than you let on. You might not write love poems in public (unless other parts of your chart say otherwise), but your actions? Speak volumes. You show love through commitment, support, and actually showing up—consistently. You’re the “I’ll help you move apartments and won’t complain once” type. And honestly, that’s rare and wildly attractive.

You're also really good at knowing your worth. Venus brings the charm and Saturn brings the standards. So you can enjoy romance without losing your head (or your dignity). You’re not likely to chase fleeting drama—you’d rather invest in something meaningful, even if it takes time. And your love? Ages like wine.

Creatively, you combine beauty with discipline. You can turn aesthetics into something practical—art that sells, style that lasts, design that works. You might even have a gift for turning hobbies into long-term projects, or making your creative side pay rent.

And money? You’re probably responsible with it. You enjoy life’s pleasures, but you’re also thinking ahead. Venus trine Saturn is the person who saves for vacation and packs snacks for the plane.

So yeah—Venus trine Saturn isn’t flashy, but it’s gold. It’s commitment, grace, and long-term glow-up energy. You don’t just love deeply—you love wisely. And that? Is beautiful.

Venus trine Uranus

Venus trine Uranus is the cosmic version of “I love you, but let’s keep it interesting.” It’s the kind of aspect that adds ✨spice✨ to sweetness—think electric charm, creative rebellion, and a love life that’s anything but boring (in the best way).

Venus is all about love, beauty, connection. Uranus is the planet of surprises, freedom, and “Wait, what if we did it completely differently?” Put them in a trine, and you get someone who loves with a twist.

You’re probably effortlessly magnetic—not in a loud or over-the-top way, but in that “who is that and why do they look like they just stepped out of a dream I didn’t know I had?” kind of way. People are drawn to you because you feel exciting, original, and genuinely yourself. You’re the cool breeze on a hot day, the plot twist in a rom-com, the person who can pull off silver eyeliner at brunch.

In relationships, you need spark—and freedom. You’re affectionate, but you’re not about that clingy life. You want connection that breathes. You’re into people who can surprise you, challenge you, or at least talk about weird science facts at 2 a.m. You might fall in love fast—but if it turns routine and stale? You’re already mentally redecorating your life.

And your sense of style? ICONIC. Venus-Uranus people often have amazing taste that’s just a little ahead of the curve. You might wear things that shouldn’t work… but totally do. Your aesthetic says, “I make my own trends,” and people follow.

Creatively, this aspect is genius. Literally. You get flashes of inspiration that feel like lightning bolts. One minute you’re folding laundry, the next you’ve invented a brand new art style or business idea. You thrive when you can innovate, experiment, and break a few rules in the name of beauty or fun.

Basically, Venus trine Uranus is the gift of loving freely, creating boldly, and dancing to your own (very catchy) beat. You don’t just think outside the box—you turn the box into a disco ball.

Venus trine Neptune

Venus trine Neptune is pure dreamboat energy. It’s the "poetry in motion" aspect—the kind of placement that makes you love like a movie, create like a muse, and daydream like it's a full-time job (with benefits).

Venus is love, beauty, art, connection. Neptune is magic, fantasy, spirituality, and soft-focus filters on everything. When these two are vibing in a trine? You’ve got a heart that floats. You don’t just feel love—you merge souls. You don’t just like pretty things—you fall in love with sunsets, songs, strangers’ handwriting, and maybe even clouds.

You radiate sweetness, compassion, and that ethereal softness that makes people think, “Are they real… or are they a character in a romantic French film?” There’s something dreamy and gentle about you, and people feel it. They might not even be able to explain why they’re drawn to you—they just are.

Love, for you, is spiritual. You're the type who writes little love notes, dreams of soulmates, and maybe secretly wants someone to slow dance with you in the kitchen at 2 a.m. You believe in love. Deeply. Even when the world gets cynical, your heart quietly insists: "No, it's still real."

Creatively? Oh, you’re a vibe. This aspect brings serious artistic potential—music, dance, painting, writing, photography, design—all of it. You create beauty that speaks to the soul. Even if you’re just decorating your living room, it probably looks like a Pinterest board made by an angel with excellent taste.

You’re also super empathetic—like, “accidentally cried watching a stranger reunite with their dog” levels of emotional openness. Your kindness isn’t performative; it’s just who you are. But that does mean you need to protect your energy, because you can absorb emotions like a sponge in a telenovela.

So yeah—Venus trine Neptune gives you the gift of beauty, love, and enchantment. You’re the heart-softener, the daydream-weaver, the cosmic reminder that love can still be tender and real. Just maybe keep your feet on the ground while your head floats in the stars. 💫

Venus trine Pluto

Venus trine Pluto? Ohhh baby. That’s the slow burn, deep soul, intense eye contact across a crowded room aspect. It’s magnetic, emotional, and just the right amount of mysterious. Like, you might not even say much, but somehow people feel like you see right into their soul—and weirdly, they kind of love it.

Venus is love, beauty, connection. Pluto is transformation, power, and everything that simmers under the surface. When they’re in a trine, you get the kind of charm that doesn’t ask for attention—it commands it. Quietly. Intensely. With raised eyebrows and smoldering vibes.

In love, you don’t do shallow. You want all of it—the passion, the soul bond, the “I’d help you bury the body” kind of loyalty. You’re not out here for flings (unless your Gemini placements are protesting)—you want to be consumed, in the best possible way. You crave real connection. None of that situationship nonsense.

People with this aspect tend to attract deep, powerful love stories—sometimes even life-changing ones. You’re the person others never quite forget. (Even if they try. Which they will. But they won’t succeed.)

There’s also this quiet confidence to you when it comes to beauty and attraction. You don’t need to follow trends or be loud about it—you just know how to work with what you’ve got. Venus trine Pluto is like wearing perfume that no one can place, but everyone keeps leaning in to smell.

Creatively, this aspect is fire. You can turn pain into art, passion into poetry, and longing into something unforgettable. You’re drawn to beauty with depth—music that aches, films that stir something, aesthetics that say “there’s more beneath the surface.”

And honestly? You’ve probably done some serious inner work in your life. You know what it means to grow through love, to heal through heartbreak, and to come out the other side even more powerful. Venus trine Pluto gives you the gift of transformational love—the kind that changes you, and the kind you give to others.

So yeah—this aspect isn’t light and fluffy. It’s rich, deep, powerful, and just the right level of “I feel things too hard but I make it look cool.” You’re the storm and the stillness after.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

For the self aware au- Have you ever written something about the sort of 'discovery' stage of the cookies being self aware? Like, if the cookies did accidentally 'break character' but instead of reader freaking out and deleting the game they become fascinated by it and start trying to get them to do it again? Curious and trying to figure out if it was a bug or glitch or some hacker, but not really bothered by it?

If you haven't written something like this and chose to use this as a prompt I'd love if you'd involve Capsaicin or Burning Spice if you feel like it! love the spicey boys,,,

I like your words weather boy. I hope I understood your request

Capsaicin (May be OOC) Oopsie!! He didn't mean too, he just got really excited seeing you. Perhaps you were wearing a new outfit, how could he not compliment you about the colour? Prune Juice had quickly jabbed him in the chest because of his slip up. And seeing you take notice...oh no, this isn't good right?...

But you didn't seem to be scared, your eyes sparkle with curiosity, he couldn't tell what you were doing at first, but when he realised you wanted to see him talk to you directly again? Oh he's more than happy too, he's quick to compliment you again, perhaps it's your eyes this time, your smile. He gets so giddy when he sees you not mind at all. And cookies said you'd be freaked out.

Burning Spice The words just left him, he didn't think about when he said it. He just didn't expect you to cry out in joy when he did the finishing blow on the other team in Arena...I mean, sure he was the only one with a bit of HP left, but god did that praise boost his ego, he couldn't help but thank you directly...with your name.

Look, look. He can't always just sit around and listen to you speak without talking to you, especially when you seem to talk to him casually as if you already knew...you won't delete the game right? Witches is he happy to see you become a giggling mess as you try and get him to speak again...hey stop poking him, he'll talk to you but-- you're still poking him??

Black Sapphire Like Shadow Milk, he doesn't think too much about his words and if they break the "4th wall" because to you, it was probably just in character, besides. One of his lines already did that anyways. What he didn't expect was, for you to actually believe it...like it wasn't just some code.

Is this a bad thing? He feels like this is a bad thing, maybe he shouldn't have talked his mind as often as he did in the kingdom and-- OH! You like it?? Heh, well if you enjoy it so much, he'll continue as he has done before. He'll just...ignore the stares Pure Vanilla is giving him. Hey! You like it, even if you seem to think it's real...he'll just argue that you found out through one of his already made voicelines.

Shadow Milk He's so happy when you notice, he always wanted you too y'know. He hated not being able to talk to you and besides, once he comes out of your device, he doesn't want to freak you out!! It's better if you knew, that's what he told other cookies but he always got shunned as the others worried it would freak you out too much.

He can't wait to rub it into other cookies faces. See!! You didn't care, you love it! Now he can talk your ear off, c'mon. Join him for dinner. Bring your food and he'll bring his. You might not be able to share a table but hey, you're eating together. He's quick to "confirm" your suspicion.

Pure Vanilla He didn't mean to let it slip! You were coming back with food to continue playing, and he couldn't help but call out in alarm to you, wanting to see if you were okay. Your pain (if you had any) disappeared and you just looked in amazement at him. Uh oh...

Unlike the others who were quick to just accept the fact you knew. Didn't even try to hide it or cover it up with a lie like, it was merely a bug. He's quick to try and continue the charade. It's not that he doesn't want to speak with you more personally, but he wonders if you'll still play when you do find out they all know. Even if it seems like you love it so. He might give in to speak again to you if he sees you desperately wanting to hear him again, he wants to see you happy

[withwritersblock]

Back to Friends

~Back to Friends by sombr~

Author's note: Requested! A lot of the back story timeline is a little inaccurate but anyways its fan fiction for a reason lmaoo... Also it's a long one with lots of badly written vanilla smut so ummmm yeah. The ending could've been a lot better but ummmm anyways... personally I love this fic but definitely a little all over the place plot wise but enjoy :) Summary: A summer friends with benefits that ends? maybe? Warnings: SMUT 18+, pretty vanilla nothing too crazy lol Word Count: 27,254 Jack Hughes x fm!reader

December 2022

He was in Detroit for the night. He had a game against the Red Wings and would get back to Jersey after two in the morning. But tonight he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t even late, but he always craved a full night's rest before an important game. They were on a three game losing streak and needed a win more than anything.

His phone lit up beside him on the night stand of the hotel bed. He let out a huff of air as he reached for it. He saw a text from Y/N. His eyes widened as he reached for it.

Y/N and Jack have known each other since they were seventeen. While Jack was playing for the developmental league, they met and became instant friends. Her brother used to work for the arena the team had practiced at. In the beginning, there was flirty tension. But for a while after that, there was nothing that ended up spiraling out of it.

She was going to school for soccer and he was on the verge of getting drafted. There was no need. Instead they became close friends. 

Well, she became a close mutual friend. She went to Chapman University for soccer and since she knew Trevor as well. She became good friends with Trevor and with Jack by adjacent. 

Trevor and Y/N were the definition of platonic. She never looked at him in that way and neither did he. It was almost as if they were automatically best friends. But after she graduated from Chapman, she started an on screen reporting job for the BigTen with UMich. She jumped between football and basketball for her reporter duties. 

Jack pulled the phone towards his face, reading the message: Good luck tomorrow! I’ll be there cheering you on! He smiled softly as he read the message over and over. He took a deep breath as he brought the phone towards his ear. It rang a few times before she answered.

“Hey J,” she said cheerfully into the phone. 

“Are you busy right now?” the question left his lips faster than he intended for it. He cleared his throat as he leaned up on his elbows. 

“I’m in bed right now, what are you asking, J?” she asked, laughing awkwardly. 

A wide grin formed on his lips as he tilted his head to the side. A breathy laugh left his lips as he slowly sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed. “Wanna come to my hotel? I can’t sleep,” he asked, his heart slamming against his chest. 

“I probably won’t be there until like 10:30, is that still fine?” she asked as she began to shuffle on her end of the phone. Jack bit his bottom lip as he tilted his head back. 

“Yeah, definitely. If you want to come by,” Jack said as he grinned, hearing her move about on her end of the phone. 

“I’ll be there, send me the address please,” she offered as she drew out the last word. He chuckled as he began to walk towards the bathroom of the hotel.

“Will do, I’ll send you my room number too,” he explained before he hung up the phone. 

He flipped the light switch, letting the LED lights burn his eyes. Jack started typing into his phone, sending her the information. He rested his phone onto the bathroom counter, he looked towards his reflection in the mirror. His hair was messily laid across his forehead. His hair was freshly cut, the shortest it’s been in the past year. 

He walked towards the shower, turning it on. The water shot out, instantly creating steam in the bathroom. He dropped his shorts and quickly stepped inside. His muscles tensed under the hot water cascading over his frame. Slowly tilting his head back, allowing the water to hit his face.

His mind was starting to wander, almost reminding himself of the way he used to think about her. How often her smile lit up a room and how contagious her laughter was for a room. There was a time he did everything in his power to hear her laugh. It was the best sound in the world.

After he got drafted, he was having the hardest year of his life. The NHL was nothing like he had expected. The comments about his abilities were detrimental to his mental health. For a while, the only person who could make him feel better was Y/N. Hearing her voice alone was enough for him to feel better. She even knew what to say to make him feel confident again. 

The summer after his rookie year, she started joining the boys on the boys trip. She fit in like a glove. The three summers since have been the same. Jack wanted to see her more, maybe needed to see her some more. 

After an hour, Jack was waiting for her on his bed. His TV was showing an old romantic comedy from the early 2000s. He couldn’t figure out the title of the film. Instead, his attention was towards his phone. He was scrolling through TikTok patiently waiting for Y/N to show up. 

His phone screen lit up with a FaceTime from Luke. Jack didn’t hesitate to answer it. Luke’s face popped up instantly. “What’s up, Lukey?” he asked as he glanced towards the door, almost expecting her to be here already. It was almost 10:30.

“Do you want to get lunch before your game tomorrow?” Luke questioned as he was walking around his kitchen.

“Yeah definitely, got any ideas?” Jack offered.

“Uhm–” Luke was interrupted as there was a loud knock against Jack’s door. A smile instantly formed on his lips.

“Can we decide this tomorrow Lukey? I gotta go,” Jack offered quickly. 

“Who’s at your door?” Luke asked while chuckling nervously.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said as he hung up the phone. He jogged towards it, looking through the peephole. He saw Y/N standing outside of his door. He grinned as he pulled the door open quickly. 

She was standing outside of his door, her frame covered by a pair of sweatpants and an Anaheim Ducks t-shirt. He shook his head as his grin fell from his lips. “You’re evil,” he mumbled as he reached towards her. Pulling her against his chest as he stumbled backwards into the hotel room. 

A giggle fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around the center of Jack’s back. He rocked her side to side inside of the hotel room, letting the door shut behind them. Her laugh practically echoed in his mind, making his heart flutter slightly. 

“Hey J,” she mumbled against his chest. He ran his hand through her hair soothingly. 

Neither of them pulled away. Staying in each other’s arms for definitely too long. Jack loved the perfume she would always wear. It was a mixture of something floral and sweet. All he knows is that it was intoxicating. 

“I’ve missed you,” Jack whispered into her ear. A soft giggle fell from her lips as she pulled back. Jack’s hands slid off of her frame, slowly dropping them to his side. Awkwardly, she stood in front of him; her gaze avoiding his light eyes.

“I’ve missed you too,” she offered quietly, taking a hesitant step towards him. He shifted his weight form on foot to the other as he watched her avoid his eye. She took a deep breath, “Why didn’t you call your brother? He could’ve kept you company,” she offered.

He chuckled dryly, “I’ll see him tomorrow,”

“You were gonna see me tomorrow,” she said as she stepped towards him. Jack swallowed harshly as he watched her tilt her head up. Their eyes met again, her lips curling upward slightly.

“You’re better company,” he let out shrugging his shoulders. She nodded slowly.

Their eyes remained connected, perhaps saying things that their lips were too afraid to let slip out. Jack’s heart was beating so rapidly as his frame was itching with anticipation. He didn’t know what it was but his gaze lowered towards her lips. Her lips were covered with a clear pink gloss, his mind wandered towards the idea of what it tasted like. If it was a hint of strawberry or if it was just the color of the gloss. 

“J?” she asked softly. 

He began to blink rapidly as he shook his head slightly, “Wanna lay down? Watch a movie, maybe?” he asked, pointing towards the bed. Clearing her throat, she nodded as she began to walk past him towards the bed.

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Jack took a hold of her arm pulling her back towards him. Lifting her head up, a sudden gasp left her lips. Jack leaned down, urgently pressing his lips against hers. At first she didn’t react, the shock froze her body still. 

The moment she began to kiss him back, Jack pulled back. Dropping his arms to the side. Her eyes widened slightly as a wave of heat engulfed her frame.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking–” he let out nervously. He was about to take a step back as she reached towards him, taking a hold of his neck. She pulled him towards her, kissing him with the same sense of urgency. 

He reached towards her waist, pressing her body against his as he began to guide her towards the bed. The backs of her legs hit the mattress, she began to kick off her shoes as their lips remained connected. 

His hands tugged at the t-shirt on her frame. He knew she only wore it to piss him off, it worked. He used the loose ends of the shirt to pull her towards him. Feeling the fabric stretch slightly at his attempt. 

Both of her hands found his hair, tugging at the strands as she craved to get closer to him. He pulled back, his breathing completely unsteady as he took a hold of his own shirt. Taking it off of his frame, he threw it to a random corner in the small hotel room.

She’s seen him shirtless before, more times than she could actually count. But something about the dimly lit hotel room and his shy smile made his muscles look incredible. Her hands glided along his chest, watching the way his body tensed under her touch. His skin was hot as she could feel his heart slamming against his chest.

“Take that off,” he demanded breathlessly. His gaze lowered towards her shirt. She smirked as she tilted her head to the side; almost as a taunt. Jack took a hold of it, pulling her closer to him by the shirt. He smirked as their gaze connected.

He felt drunk by the way her lips kissed his. It was like she knew how to cast a spell over him. “Take that off,” he demanded again. She smirked as she shook her head slightly.

“If you want it gone so bad then take it off of me,” she whispered teasingly. His lips curled up into a cocky grin as he gladly reached towards the shirt on her frame. He tugged it up higher. She assisted in the process. Jack bunched the shirt together and tossed it to the same corner his shirt laid. 

“Oh my god,” he let out barely above a whisper as his eyes scanned her frame. His breath caught in his throat. 

Her chest was now only covered by a black lace bra. He took a delicate hold of the strap against her shoulder. He released it, letting it snap back in place. He’s seen her in bikinis and swimsuits before; but it’s nothing like this. Only his eyes got to see her like this. He took a quick breath, his chest aching from the lack of oxygen in his body. 

Suddenly, she felt self conscious with the way his eyes were roaming her frame. She took a shaky breath as their eyes met again. She dropped her gaze towards the floor. Jack instantly took a hold of her cheeks to force her to meet his eye.

“You’re fucking breathtaking,” Jack let out as he looked deeply into her eyes. The corner of her lips curled upward as he glided his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks. He pressed his lips against hers for only a second. “Don’t ever forget it,” he mumbled against her lips. 

He kissed her urgently again, as they both collapsed onto the bed. Her hands ran through his hair as he held himself up with both of his arms resting on either side of her head. 

Urgently, she bucked her hips up into him; desperate for more contact from him. Her stomach erupted into butterflies as he began to trail wet kisses across her jawline. He continued to lower his lips, swirling his tongue against the skin as he began to suck against the skin. Careful to not leave any marks. 

She pressed her lips together as she tried to prevent a moan climbing in her throat. He pulled away from her neck, looking down towards her. She raised her hand up as she ran her hand from the side of his neck against the curve of his collarbone. 

“I promise I didn’t invite you here for this,” he let out as he scanned her features.

“I know,” she mumbled as she reached towards him again, desperate for his lips against her own again. Their tongues swirled in perfect cadence. Reaching down, he toyed with the band of her sweatpants. Feeling her arch her back into him. He let it snap back against her skin before he delicately grazed his hand up her frame. 

Their lips continued to be sloopily insync more urgently as his boxers were getting tighter and tighter by the second. He thrusted against her clothed center, for a blissful moment of relief. Yet it made him more desperate to see more of her. 

Jack pulled his lips away from hers as he began to trail his lips down her frame. Kissing every inch of her skin on the way down. He pressed his lips against her hip bone, teasingly biting the skin. 

A gasp left her lips while she tilted her head back. Jack pulled at her sweatpants, looking up towards her. 

He watched her in awe as she lifted her hips up. He took that as an invitation, he climbed off of the bed as he pulled them from her frame. He tossed them to the floor. 

Her body was now only covered by her matching lace set. He could come undone just from looking at her so innocently laying on his bed. So innocent and all just for him.

She leaned back on her elbows, breathlessly looking towards him. He took a hold of his own shorts and took them off quickly. She smiled softly as she looked over his frame. Seeing how hard he was beneath his boxers. Her mouth started watering as she scanned his frame back up looking into his eyes. 

He stood at the foot of the bed admiring her frame for a moment. “Wow–” he let out before he climbed on top of her. He looked down towards her, smiling softly. He pressed his lips against hers, she motioned for him to roll onto his back. 

Jack didn’t hesitate as he rolled onto his back. Soon, she straddled his frame. Quickly, grinding slowly, almost teasingly, her hips against his hard clothes frame. He let out a breathy moan that was muffled by her mouth against his. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled while tilting his head back. She smirked as she leaned back, pressing her lips down his neck. Jack bit his bottom lip while she took a hold of the clasp of her bra. 

Quickly, she unclasped it and tossed it from her frame. Jack’s eyes widened as his hands instantly rested on her hips. Slowly squeezing her skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he let out urgently. She bit her bottom lip as she fought off a smile. She dragged her hands across his abs while he took a hold of her hands, pulling her to lean towards him.

She pressed her lips against his as his hands lowered down her frame, gripping her thighs desperately. He thrusted up into her, a breathy moan left her lips. She continued to glide her fingers through his hair. She felt her body start to get overwhelmed with desire, desperate to be completely all his. 

His hands glided along her back, feeling her skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch. “Get on your back,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled back, staring down towards him for a second as she climbed off of his frame. 

The second she laid onto her back, Jack started to climb down her frame. This time pressing his lips teasingly, circling his tongue at a slow pace. He looped his finger beneath the band of her underwear. The delicate touch sent a vibration through her whole body, her vision blurring in the process. He pulled it off of her frame, letting it drop towards the floor. Shutting her eyes, she tilted her head back.

Jack took a hold of her legs, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. Carefully, parting her legs. He smirked to see how wet she was for him.

“So wet for me, huh baby?” He mumbled as he delicately caressed the skin of her hip bone.

Anticipation coursed through her veins as she tilted her head back against the pillow. Desperately waiting for him to do something to her. She craved his touch, his lips, craved everything from him. 

He pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh, carefully and slowly trailing his lips towards her center. 

“Fuck sake, J, please!” she begged as she forced her eyes shut. A breathy laugh left his lips as he looked up towards her. 

“So impatient,” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his thumb against her clit. Slowly, circling his thumb. She squirmed instantly, her back arched. A gasp left her lips as he continued. “So pretty and so impatient,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh. He watched her clamp her mouth shut, silencing the moans fighting to come out.

He leaned towards her, his fingertips grazing her throbbing center. Without hesitation, he slid two fingers inside of her in a teasing manner. A breathy moan left her lips as she tried to silence herself. Slowly, he began to curl his fingers. He smirked as he watched her squirm beneath his touch. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled as her legs began to tightened around him. Jack leaned in taking her clit into his mouth. He began to suck the sensitive bud as he looped one of his arms around her thigh. He squeezed the skin, holding her in place.

A moan finally fell from her lips and Jack felt himself nearly release right there. It was the most beautiful sound he’s heard in a long time. He pulled back, bringing his fingers towards his mouth. After a few seconds, he brought his lips towards her center. Teasingly, he began to swirl his tongue.

He stayed there for a while, pulling her towards her edge. Her breathing was heavy as she continued to silence her own moans; afraid of someone overhearing.

“J, I’m so close,” she mumbled. Jack pulled back, licking his lips clean. A frustrated sigh left her lips as her eyes opened; practically glaring towards him. “Why does every guy stop when a girl says that?” she let out breathily. He chuckled as he finally pulled his boxers from his frame. She looked towards him, her eyes widening as she was breathing heavily. 

“Just wait, baby,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up and down his shaft. A muffled moan fell from his lips as he looked towards her. An imagine he never thought he was going to see. 

He carefully pulled her legs towards the edge of bed as he parted her legs again, He guided himself towards her center, carefully thrusting into her. Another moan fell from her lips as he took a hold of her thigh as he climbed on top of her. 

He thrusted again, a grunt falling from his lips. Their eyes connected as she nodded slightly. He began to quicken his pace. Thrusting faster into her, pressing sloppy kisses against her jawline.

“So good, baby, doing so good,” he mumbled before he kissed her sloppily. Her hands found his hair, tugging the strands. He was right, she was right back at the edge he put her on before. Any second she would unwind. 

Jack pulled his lips away from hers, needing to see what he does to her. He needed to watch how her desire consume her. He was getting dizzy, a smirk toyed to his lips watching her breathlessly keep her moans inside.

“Let me here you, let it out,” he muttered through a grunt. She smirked as she finally let herself let it out. A low moan fell from her lips as she dragged her hands across his upper back, leaving nail scratches in their place. 

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna–J,” she mumbled against his lips. 

With another thrust, she had hit her climax. Her breath caught in her throat as she tilted her head back. She couldn’t hold it back anymore as she let out a loud moan. Jack bit his bottom lip as he continued to guide her through her climax.

“That’s it’s baby,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Oh fuck, oh my god Jac–” she moan out. 

He pressed his lips against her jawline as he tightened his grip on her thigh as he reached his own climax. A stifled his own moan as his entire body flooded with desire. His vision went blurry as he pressed his lips sloppily against her jawline. 

He pulled out as he fell onto his back beside her. Both of them laid silently as they were trying to catch their breath. He tilted his head to the side, looking over her side profile. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip as she took a deep breath. She blinked her eyes harshly back to back. 

Several seconds passed before she turned her head to meet his gaze. A soft giggle falling from her lips. “What?” he asked, fighting a smirk forming on his lips. 

“I cannot believe we just did that,” she let out while shaking her head slightly. 

“It was alright,” he mumbled teasingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she shoved him. He laughed as he reached towards her, pulling her towards him. Her head rested on his chest as he looped his arm around her waist. He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re so annoying,” she mumbled. He hummed dramatically as he began to run his fingers through her hair.

“Should we talk about it?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pressed her lips against his chest as she lifted her head up, meeting his gaze. 

“Just a one time thing right? You live in New Jersey and I live here. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be more than that right?” she explained as she ran her hand across his cheek. He nodded slowly as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

His heart stung in his chest but he forced a grin to his lips, “Can we make it a two time thing? Another round?” he asked teasingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“You have a losing streak to snap tomorrow, shouldn’t you be saving some energy?” 

“You just had to remind me, huh?” he asked while shaking his head slightly. 

“I live to keep the Jack Hughes humble,” she shot back. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically as he took a hold of her neck. He pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently.

June 2023

Jack and Y/N’s friendship remained the same like it was before their night together back in December. They slept together and cuddled the entire night. They didn’t say a single word about it when they went to lunch with Luke. However, Jack was convinced Luke had some idea of what had happened. Luke never said anything about it though.

It was as if nothing happened. Their friendship was normal as normal as it could seem. They texted and talked on the phone nearly every day. It was exactly like it used to be. 

But Jack would be lying if he didn’t have plenty of dreams reliving that night. Waking up, wishing she was beside him to fix what he was left with after his wet dreams. But they were friends and friends should not think of other friends like that. 

Today was the start of another summer at the Hughes's lake house. All of the boys wanted to shake off a rough end to the season, craving to let off some steam. While Y/N was frustrated because she was not given a new contract with the Big Ten. She was trying to decide what she wanted to do with her career. This summer was her last chance to enjoy unemployment before she went on a job search. 

The Hughes Brothers were the first ones at the house, making sure the whole place was perfect. Trevor, Cole, and Y/N were on their way. Y/N had promised to pick the other three up from the airport and she texted Jack that she was regretting giving that offer. 

“What time did Y/N say they would be here?” Quinn asked as he wandered back into the living room. Jack tilted his head back looking towards Quinn. A smile formed on Jack's lips at the sound of her name.

“She should be here in like five minutes,” Jack explained as he forced his gaze back towards his phone screen. 

He began to scroll through his Twitter feed, not necessarily reading everything he saw. Mainly trying to keep his mind off of the fact that Y/N was going to be in the same room as him for the first time since Decemeber. Quinn nodded as he wandered back towards the kitchen, leaving Jack alone. Luke was in his room unpacking all of his clothes.

Jack was trying to be cool but he was freaking out. He didn’t know how to be normal knowing that any minute she would walk through that door. Probably wearing something gorgeous since she always looked gorgeous in everything she’s worn; and not worn. 

The front door swung open and Y/N led the charge. “Party’s here!” The three of them shouted as they entered the house. Trevor was carrying six pizzas while dancing towards the kitchen. Completely ignoring Jack who was in the process of standing up from the couch. Cole was holding his phone up playing the pre-chorus of Hot in Herre by Nelly. 

Cole and Y/N were dancing their way inside while leaving their suitcases by the door. Jack stood up from the couch watching Cole and Y/N make complete fools of themselves. Trevor bolted out of the kitchen, “It’s gettin’ hot in here!” Trevor yelled out singing along to the song as he went back towards Y/N and Cole.

The three of them danced and sang loudly. Luke entered the living room, his eyes were wide as he was trying to hold in a laugh. Quinn entered the living room, completely losing balance from laughing. Jack stood up crossing his arms over his chest as he watched three of his favorite people. 

The song faded into another song but Cole placed his phone against the table beside the front door. “You guys are the weirdest people I’ve ever met,” Luke said while laughing. He walked towards Cole first, giving him a quick hug. Cole darted towards Quinn. Luke walked towards Y/N.

“Hey Lukey,” she offered as she gave him a quick hug, “UMich is gonna miss you,” she mumbled as she pulled back.

“They’re gonna miss you too, all of the athletes are going to miss you like crazy. We all thought it was dumb to let you go,” he expressed. She smiled softly as she tilted her head to the side. 

“Thanks Lukey,” she muttered before she saw Quinn walking towards her. “Quinny, how are you?” she asked as she gave him a quick hug. 

“Alive, can’t wait for this break,” he said while chuckling. She pouted her lips as Quinn shifted his attention towards Trevor. 

Y/N looked towards Jack as he was finishing up his quick greeting with Cole. Jack shifted his gaze towards her as he fought off a grin. He scanned her frame, slowly. She walked up towards him.

“Hey J,” she let out softly, feeling her legs start to get weak as she looked over him. 

“Hi Y/N,” he mumbled. Hesitantly, she pulled him in an embrace. He followed in pursuit as his hands loosely looped around her waist. He delicately ran his hand along her lower back. 

She rested her hand on the base of his neck as her body straightened. Her stomach flipped as she felt her breathing catch in her throat. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her ear. A memory of their night together flashed into her mind with his lips so close to her ear. 

She swallowed harshly as she pulled back, her hand glided from his neck, her thumb ran along the side of his neck for a moment before she fully pulled away from him. He pursed his lips forward as he scanned her frame. He shifted awkwardly as he crossed his arms over her chest.

Clearing her throat, she looked into his eyes for a second before she reluctantly stepped away from him. “We have pizza and there is still a load of liquor in the car. Can anyone help me?” She offered while looking around the whole living room.

“I got you,” Jack said quickly before anyone else had a chance to chime in. Their eyes connected and she felt her heart slam against her chest. She lowered her gaze towards the cocky smirk on his lips. She walked backwards, stumbling slightly. She clenched her jaw as she darted outside of the front door.

He smirked as he lowered his gaze towards the floor as he followed after her. She jogged towards the trunk of her car. Instantly, she opened the trunk and stared towards the four paper bags holding all of the alcohol. 

She leaned into the trunk, taking a hold of one of the bags. Jack walked up behind her, a smirk toying to his lips. She froze in place as her body erupted in tingles. She took a shaky breath as she took a hold of another bag. Jack leaned towards her as he reached towards a bag. 

“Thank you for your help,” she said slowly as she walked away from him. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he took the other bag. He shut the trunk as he quickly followed after her. 

She entered the living room hearing echoes from the boys in the kitchen. “Y/N,” Jack called out in a hushed tone. She turned around, meeting his gaze. “Are you okay?”

She looked into his light eyes as she squinted her eyes slightly. “I’m good, good–yeah,” she muttered before she began to walk towards the kitchen. She entered.

“Our alcohol!” Cole cheered loudly. The other boys laughed as Y/N rested her bags onto the center island. Jack walked beside her, resting his bags onto the counter himself. 

It was normal for her and Jack to be close, not necessarily people that hug and cuddle all of the time. But they were not people to not be in close proximity. She never noticed it much before, or cared much before. Now that they’ve hooked up, she was hyper aware of his presence. The way her body erupted in goosebumps and tingles any time his body was close against her.

She began to pull out the different bottles. Jack stood beside her, their arms bumping against one another as he started pulling out the other bottles. “We’re thinking about going on the boat in a few, you two down?” Quinn asked before he shoved a bite of food into his mouth. 

Y/N glanced towards Jack and back down towards the overwhelming amount of alcohol in front of them. “I’m always down,” she offered as she stared towards the comically large vodka bottle. 

Jack looked over her frame for a second, “Yeah for sure,” he expressed before he looked towards Luke. Luke nodded slowly, his cheeks pinking up as he glanced towards Y/N. 

It was a couple hours later and it was safe to say that most of them were pretty tipsy. She was sitting in one of the corners of the boat. Her swimsuit was covered by an oversized pink hoodie. 

The music has progressively gotten quieter as the hours progressed. Now everyone was starting to get tired as the sun was starting to set. She had her knees pulled up towards her chest.

Their conversations progressively started getting quieter as the sun was starting to create a stunning orange glow over the water. Quinn and Trevor were laughing loudly at something Trevor had said.

Her gaze continued to wander towards Jack. He was sitting on the opposite end of the boat. His frame was covered in a dark blue hoodie but it was once showing off his tanned body. He was talking with Luke,  from afar the conversation seemed serious. Or at least it appeared to be that way.

Cole was laying down beside her. His feet were dangling over the ledge of the boat. His head rested beside her thigh. Every so often she would glance down to see Cole half asleep. His arms were crossed over his chest. 

“Y/N,” Cole whispered. She forced her gaze away from Jack as she looked down towards him. He waved his finger towards her. She squinted her eyes slightly as she leaned towards him. Slowly, she tilted her head to the side, allowing him to whisper in her ear. “Did something happen with you and Jack?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pulled back, her eyes widening.

“Why are you asking me that?” she asked softly. He chuckled as he shrugged slightly, his eyes shutting in the process.

“Because this is usually his spot and he’s busy lecturing Luke about what it takes to be in the NHL,” Cole explained, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “Did you guys get into an argument?”

“No, we’re good,” she mumbled as she shifted her gaze back towards Jack across from them. His gaze was already looking in her direction. The corner of his lips curled upward as he looked into her eyes. He bit his bottom lip as he continued to look in her direction.

Shyly, she dropped her gaze towards her lap. Cole was looking towards her suspiciously. “What?” she asked barely above a whisper.

“Did you two–” he trailed off as he nodded slowly, trying to insinuate something. Her lips parted slightly as the skin of her cheeks heated up instantly. Her lack of defense was enough for him to believe it. “Oh we have so much to talk about later,” Cole offered while chuckling.

“You guys ready to head back? I’m getting cold,” Quinn called out as he began walking back towards the driver seat.

Y/N looked down towards Cole who was fighting off a wide grin. The boys all started making fun of Quinn. While Cole and Y/N were staring towards one another. “We have nothing to talk about, Cole,” she offered while nodding slowly. He chuckled as he shut his eyes.

Quinn began to drive the boat back towards the dock. 

“Cole, I’m serious,” she mumbled. 

“Okay,” he sing songed, “But you two aren’t really keeping it to yourselves,”

“Shut up, Cole,” she let out while laughing.

~~~

She was laying on her bed, struggling to fall asleep. Her mind was busy, nearly impossible to make it quiet. It was a one time thing. They were fine the next day, and didn't even act like it happened. Sure, the faint feeling of his lips against hers was all she could think about that day. But it was normal.

Nothing felt normal. Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time they were sleeping under the same roof since. She let out a huff of air as she stared towards the ceiling. Tossing the blanket low on her frame, her body starting to overheat.

Out of nowhere there was a soft kock on her door. She took a hold of her phone to check the time. It was a little after midnight. She sighed as she tossed the blanket away from her frame. She walked towards the door and pulled it open. Jack was standing outside of her door, a pair of sweatpants being the only thing covering his frame. 

“What are you doing, J?” she asked softly. 

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously. She nodded, stepping aside letting him walk into her room. She shut the door, pressing her back against the door. He walked towards the center of the room; his gaze towards the floor. 

She didn’t say anything. Instead she was admiring the way his back muscles tensed as he breathed heavily. After a few seconds he spun around, resting his hands onto his hips. 

“So you and Cole were pretty close today, huh?” he let out as he continued to avoid her gaze. She squinted her eyes slightly as she pursed her lips forward.

“Haven’t seen him in a year. It was good to catch up,” she offered as she nervously ran her fingers through her hair.

“I meant–like–on the boat. You two were pretty close,” he said as he finally lifted his head up to meet her gaze. Her heart jumped into her throat as her knees suddenly felt weak. 

“Are you jealous that I was hanging out with Cole?” she questioned, a smirk toying her lips.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” he offered as he took a step towards her. Her posture straightened as she continued pressing her back against the door. Almost afraid that if she pulled away she would collapse under his gaze. 

“Right ‘cause we’re completely normal,” she pressed her lips together while breathing started to become difficult. He stopped a couple of steps away from her, watching her intently. He saw the way she was frozen in place; he knew why.

“Right because nothing happened between us,”

“Nope,”

“So I can’t be jealous that you and Cole were flirting for hours on the boat earlier,” he offered before dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. He raised his hand up and dragged it across his chin.

She brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear as she continued to look into his darkening eyes. “We weren’t flirting,” 

“Right because his head was practically in your lap. You were laughing a lot, totally not flirting,” 

“His head was not in my lap and he’s funny. Am I supposed to not laugh at something funny?” she said dryly. 

“He’s not that funny,” 

“Why do you care if I am laughing with Cole?” 

“I don’t,” he said bluntly.

“Then why are you–”

He interrupted her by taking a hold of both of her cheeks and kissing her urgently. There was not an ounce of hesitation as she began to kiss him back. Her hands planted onto his chest as he shoved his knee between her legs. His hands slipped from her cheeks as he rested them against the door beside her head to pin her against it.

Her hands glided through his hair, needing him closer. She took a hold of the ends of her shirt, pulling her lips away from his in the process. She tossed it towards the floor to reveal her bare chest. 

Jack instantly connected their lips again as he took a hold of her waist to pull her against his chest. He reached behind her twisting the lock on the door, he didn’t need any surprises. Reaching down he took a hold of her thighs; she jumped up assisting him in the process. Not once did their lips part. Her hands held his head in place, desperate for his lips to stay on hers.

Jack carried her towards the bed and delicately placed her down onto the bed. He stood at the foot of the bed, quickly sliding his sweats down his body. He smirked as he climbed on top of her again.

Their noses brushed as she took a hold of his neck. She delicately ran her thumb along the side of it. Jack hummed as he looked into her eyes, “What?” he let out breathily. 

She shook her head slightly before she pulled him towards her by his neck. He let out a breathy moan that was muffled by her mouth. Slowly, pulling his lips from hers he began to trail his lips down her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him more space.

“Gotta be quiet, yeah? Can’t let them know what we’re doing,” he whispered into her ear. She couldn’t form any words; instead she hummed before she bit her bottom lip. He smirked as he pressed wet kisses down her neck, towards her chest. His eyes lit up in the process.

~~~

She forced him out of her room not long after they hooked up. She was afraid that if he fell asleep in her room then it would be suspicious to everyone in the house. Jack was notorious for sleeping in and it would be difficult for him to sneak out. 

Although, she did feel guilty kicking him out like that. After all, he was the one that snuck into her room to begin with. She laid in the center of the bed, staring towards the ceiling. Her mind was replaying every single moment from the night before. 

The way his hands grazed her skin and the way her back would arch into him. The way his lips and tongue knew exactly what to do to make her feel dizzy. She didn’t know how long the whole night lasted, she knew that it was more than once. 

There was a soft knock on her door, she sat up. Pressing her back against the wall behind her she called out, “Come in,”

She watched as Jack peaked his head into the room. Her eyes widened slightly before she pulled the comforter tighter to her body. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked towards her, stopping short near the bed. 

“We need to talk about this,” Jack offered.

She shook her head slowly, “No we don’t. That was a one time thing,” she said in a hush tone.

“Decemeber was a one time thing, last night means it’s gonna happen again so we need to set boundaries,” he offered as he sat down on the bed, their faces a near inch away from one another.

“How do you know it’s gonna happen again?” she offered teasingly, her gaze trailing towards his shirtless frame. He tilted his head to the side as he pursed his lips forward, his own eyes admiring her lips. Her perfect lips that he could stare at all day.

After a few seconds of silence, Jack leaned towards her, kissing her. It was slow, nothing like last night’s urgency. Their tongues connected as he was slowly gliding his hand to the base of her neck.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, “Because of that,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against hers again for a few seconds. He took a sudden breath, “So we need boundaries,”

She nodded as she leaned back, her head tilting back against the wall. “Okay, what ideas do you have?” she offered quietly.

“None of them can know,” he waved his hand behind them towards the door. She nodded, keeping the secret that Cole figured out it’s happened once. “Your turn,” he mumbled. 

Her mouth fell open for a second before she clamped it shut. She took a deep breath, “No sleepovers,” she let out, “If it happens then there is no cuddling afterwards,” 

He nodded slowly, “Okay, uhm–” he thought about it for a second, “We can’t avoid each other outside of this room, right? It’ll look suspicious.”

She nodded, “Feelings can’t get involved, the second something is different. We stop,” 

“What do you mean by feelings?”

“I don’t know, like if we start seeing each other as more than–” she trailed off as she avoided his gaze. 

“Yeah, I agree,” he muttered before he took a deep breath. He tilted his head back, trying to think if there was anything else to add. “I’m out,” he let out breathily. 

“Me too,” she mumbled. 

“Good,” he muttered as his gaze lingered on her lips. He smirked before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” he muttered against her lips before he kissed her again. He stood up as he began walking towards the door.

“Wait, I have another one,” she called out, standing up from the bed, stumbling slightly as she nearly tripped over the comforter. He spun around, nodding allowing her to continue. “You can’t kiss me goodbye,” 

He chuckled awkwardly, “So the plan is we just have incredible sex and then I am not supposed to cuddle you or kiss you goodbye afterwards?” he said sarcastically. She nodded as she walked towards him. “That makes me like a complete douche, you know,”

“Well, it’s just two friends having sex, right?” she offered as she rested her hands onto her hip. He nodded as his gaze was lingering on her lips. Her eyes widened as she tossed her hands to the side. “I need a verbal answer, J!” 

He tossed his head back, “Just two friends who have incredible sex,” he let out barely above a whisper before he snuck out of the room, leaving her alone in the center of the bedroom. A sudden laugh fell from her lips as she shook her head.

July 2023

She walked through the main doors of the lake house to see all of the boys scattered around the living room. She pulled her sunglasses from her face, while carrying two dozen donuts in her hands. “What’s that for?” Jack called out as he walked towards her. She smiled softly towards him as he took both of the boxes from her. He began walking towards the kitchen.

All of the boys followed after them. “My birthday is tomorrow so I wanted to treat you guys to some amazing donuts,” she mumbled as she leaned agains the doorway. Jack rested the boxes onto the counter while opening it instantly. 

“Have we figured out a plan to celebrate?” Cole asked as he stole a chocolate long john. He smirked towards Quinn who was reaching for the same one. 

“My siblings are driving up for the night. My sister can finally get in the clubs out here, it’ll be perfect,” she offered with a grin. 

“Isn’t she like twenty,” Jack asked as he handed a donut towards her. It was her favorite. She smiled towards him for a second.

“Luke’s twenty,” she mumbled, “And he and Carlee got fakes at the same time. So we know it works,” she said softly.

“You know Y/N’s sister?” Jack asked with a mouthful. 

Luke shrugged nonchalantly, “She dated Matty for a while when he was still at UMich,” he said, “Thanks for these,” he said towards Y/N as he carried his two donuts out of the kitchen. 

Y/N took a bit of her own donut as she glanced towards Cole who was staring towards her suspiciously. “Festivities for your birthday start tonight by the way,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen. Quinn and Trevor were quick to follow after him, leaving Jack and Y/N.

She met Jack’s gaze, squinting slightly. “What did he mean by that?” she asked quietly. He shrugged as he walked around the counter towards her. He stepped up towards her, his gaze scanning her features.

“What are you doing in the next twenty minutes?” he asked, trying to be discreet but he failed miserably. 

“I was going to eat this donut and then maybe another one, perhaps another one after that. Then I was going to shower,” she explained. He chuckled dryly as he glanced towards the living room, none of the boys were in his line of sight. He assumed it meant that they were gone. 

“Want help in that second part?” he asked barely above a whisper. She fought a smile forming on her lips.

“Sure you want to see me after three–” she began but he pushed her delicately to stop her.

“I’ll be waiting,” He leaned towards her, purposely brushing his lips against her ear. She cleared her throat as her body straightened. She took another bite of her donut while rolling her eyes playfully. 

She finished her snacks before she walked into the living room to see Cole was sitting in the corner of the couch. He was smirking as he watched her walk towards the hallway. “Is there any reason why Jack hasn’t brought any girls back to the house this summer?” he called out.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her hands landing on her hips. Slowly, she spun on her heels. She saw Cole resting his head onto the top of the couch. He looked towards her expectantly. 

“No idea,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“Why haven’t you brought anyone back here?” he asked teasingly. He smirked towards her. 

“Why haven’t you?” she shot back. 

He chuckled softly as he tapped his hands against the top of the couch, “Oh I have, you and Jack have just been too busy disappearing for the last month to notice,” he teased.

She shrugged, “I haven’t been disappearing, I don’t know about J though,” she let out nonchalantly as she continued down that hallway. 

“Sure,” Cole drew out the word as he shifted his gaze towards the TV. He turned it on to put on  the new show he was starting to watch. 

She took a deep breath as she walked towards her bedroom. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Instantly, her back was pressed against the wall beside the door. It was slowly shutting beside her as she looked into Jack’s eyes. She fought off a smirk as he tilted his head to the side watching it shut. 

A soft giggle rose up in her throat, Jack raised his finger up. Carefully, pressing it against her lips; asking her to be quiet. She pressed her lips against his finger as he twisted the lock in the process.  Slowly, he glided his hand along her jawline before he rested his hand on the base of her neck. 

“You gotta be more careful,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his shirt, pulling him towards her, craving his lips on hers. He smirked before he kissed her urgently. Their tongues connected as a breathy moan fell from his lips. He looped his thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans as he pulled her towards him.

“J, I’m serious,” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled back while toying with the buttons of her jeans. Slowly, she ran her hands from his neck down his chest. “Cole’s asking questions,” 

“Let him ask questions,” he whispered before he pressed his lips beneath her ear. He began to suck and swirl his tongue to soothe the skin. He parted her legs as he shoved his knee between them, feeling her weaken beneath his touch. 

“You can’t do that,” she mumbled as she tugged at the strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

“I can’t?” he asked teasingly. She hummed as a reply. “What about this?” he asked teasingly as he unbuttoned her jeans.

“I seriously have to go shower, J,” she mumbled breathlessly. Jack pressed his lips against her collarbone, before he tilted his head back looking into her eyes. He watched as her eyes dilated the longer their eyes met. “Follow me in five minutes,” she mumbled as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

He smirked as he watched her take a hold of a random t-shirt and shorts as she slipped out of the door. He stiffled a laugh as he quietly hit his fist against the wall in front of him. He pressed his head against the wall for a second.

He jumped out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He crossed the hallway towards his own bedroom, trying to be as sneaky as possible. 

Some of their rules and boundaries fell apart pretty early in their arrangement. Jack couldn’t help but kiss her goodbye, desperate for one last intimate moment. At least until their next intimate moment. 

He was falling for her, falling so hard. But she wasn’t allowed to know that or she would end their beautiful arrangement. He was somewhat convinced that the second she found out the feelings he was having; she would run the opposite direction.

The second their arrangement ends, their whole friendship will fall apart. He knows that. He knows that this either ends with a relationship or as strangers. He was more prepared for one rather than the other.

He’s stayed the night a few times after their nights together. Her back would be pressed against his chest. His hands would delicately graze along her stomach as she would run her hand along the top of his hand. His lips were pressing against the skin of her shoulder. 

He took a hold of his swim trunks and walked towards the bathroom that Y/N prefers. He stepped inside, hearing the shower already running. Quickly, she took a hold of the shower curtain and peeked her head out to see Jack walking inside. 

Without hesitation, he took a hold of his shirt and instantly tossed it to the floor. Instantly, he took off of his shorts and stepped into the shower with her. He smirked as he scanned her frame. 

Her hands instantly took a hold of his cheeks, pulling him towards her. She pressed her lips against his urgently. He hummed against her lips as he guided her backwards. The steaming water started cascading over his body as his hands began to roam over her wet frame. 

With their lips still connected, he lowered his fingers down her wet skin. He took two of his fingers and began to rub her clit slowly. A small gasp left her lips as she pulled back slightly. Jack grinned as he continued to tease her as he rubbed her clit so slowly. She tilted her head back, holding back a breathy moan. 

He leaned towards her, his lips pressing against her jawline. He carefully touched her center feeling how wet she was for him. He bit the skin beneath her jawline before he circled his tongue soothingly. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support. 

“What do you want, mhm?” he whispered in her ear as he returned his fingers towards her clit. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip as she tilted her head back. Her eyes shut instantly.

“Please,” she begged barely above a whisper. He smirked as entered her center with two of his fingers. He pressed his body into hers as he pushed her against the wall. A moan fell from her lips. Jack’s eyes widened as he took a hold of her chin, silencing her moans with his mouth. 

“What do you want?” he whispered against her lips. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked towards him through wet eyelashes. He curled his fingers inside of her, feeling her react against his body. 

She looked so innocent looking towards him like that, so desperate. He continued to curl and thrust his fingers into her, hearing her breathily moan in his ear, feeling her body tighten under his touch. 

“I need you,” she mumbled out.

“Yeah?” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out, he instantly took a hold of his length. He ran his hand up and down a few times, his breath catching in his throat. He looked back towards her, meeting her gaze.

“Please J,” she tilted her head back against the tile behind her. He guided himself to her center, thrusting into her slowly; letting her get used to him. Jack kept her body pinned against the wall as he continued to thrust slowly into her. She took a hold of his cheeks, forcing him to kiss her; otherwise everyone in the house would know what they do behind closed doors.

Jack used one of his hands and began to circle her clit and apply pressure as he continued to thrust into her. A surge of desire coursed through her body. Her body shuttered as she dragged her hands across his upper back. Her nails digging into his skin for only a moment.

He liked hearing her desire and pleasure pour from her mouth. No matter how muffled they needed to be, it was everything for him to know what he was doing to her.

“Fuck,” he let out through a soft groan. He moved his hand away from her clit, supporting her body. He pulled his lips away from hers for a second while he admired the short breaths leaving her lips. He watched her tilt her head back and bite her bottom lip. 

A moan fell from her lips, it was starting to get difficult to remain quiet. Desperately, he leaned towards her with an open mouth kiss.

“I’m so close,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Doing so good, baby, so fucking good,” he whispered back as he thrusted into her harder. 

A breathy moan of his own falling from his lips as they couldn’t kiss each other anymore. Their faces were still pressed against one another. 

He could feel her tighten around him, her breath caught in her throat as she tossed her head back, her hands holding Jack’s head in place. “Jack,” she mumbled out. 

His name never fell from her lips like that. She never would say it fully, hearing it fall from her lips like that was practically enough for him to be sent over the edge.

After a few seconds, he reached his climax. He pressed sloppy kisses against her jawline as she was letting out short breaths as she was riding out her own climax. Jack took a hold of both of her hips. 

He didn’t pull out right away as he watched her breathing start to slow. She pulled him towards her, kissing him instantly. He couldn’t breath but he didn’t care, all he wanted was to do it again and never stop. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled against her lips as he finally pulled out. He leaned down and rested his head against the crook of her neck. He let out a giggle as he began to let his hands roam her frame. “We need to do this more often,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against her neck.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, “Yeah,” she mumbled.

~~~

The following morning, they were in bed together. No matter how late they were up the night before, Jack would sneak out of her room a little after seven every day. None of the other boys in the house were going to be awake for several hours but they would rather be safe than sorry.

Her head rested on his chest as her arms were practically looped around his body. She was dead asleep but Jack was wide awake. His alarm wouldn’t go off for another thirty minutes. He grazed his fingertips along the skin of her back, every so often running his fingers through her hair. He would slowly twist the strands between his finger tips.

He brushed a few pieces away from her face, his fingertips glided along her forehead. She stirred slightly under his touch. Delicately, she pressed her lips against his chest. His whole body tightened, his heart started slamming against his chest. 

Slowly, she ran her hand along his chest. “Good morning,” she mumbled as she kept her head on his chest. His eyes shut as the corner of his lips curled upward. He could get used to waking up like this. 

“Morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against the top of her head. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed as her eyes fluttered closed again.

“I could sleep a little longer but someone’s heart is beating a thousand times a minute,” she mumbled as she sat up slightly. She looked down towards Jack. Her hair falling into her face as she scanned his sleepy features.

Raising his hand up, he brushed her hair away from her face, he tucked the pieces behind her ear. “Was it?” he mumbled. She nodded as his hand ran along her bare back. Her body straightened as goosebumps erupted all over her frame. “Sorry,” he let out, his lips in a soft smile.

She smiled towards him as she laid back down, this time resting her head in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” she mumbled as she pressed her lips against his neck. Their legs entangled together instantly. “What’s got it beating so fast?” she asked quietly.

“No idea,” he said. “I can sneak out now, if you want more sleep,”

“No, no, stay,” she tightened her grip along his center. He smiled widely as he took a deep breath. “Please,” she whispered into his ear. 

“Okay,” he whispered.

A soft giggle fell from her lips, “Are you excited to go back to Jersey?” she asked softly as her eyes remained shut.

“Something like that,”

“What does that mean?” she asked as Jack teasing ran his hand along the curve of her ass. 

“Jersey is so far from here,” he mumbled as he ran his hand along her arm.

“But it’s Lukey’s rookie year,” she offered. He let out a small groan. “J, it’ll be okay,” she said half heartedly; used to his dramatics.

“But you and our arrangement are in Michigan,” he mumbled. 

“That’s true,” she mumbled as she lifted her head up, she looked down towards him. He raised his hand up, running his hand along his cheek. “Two more incredible weeks, J.” 

“Two more,” he mumbled as he swallowed harshly, his heart started beating rapidly against his chest. “Have you started looking for new jobs?” He jumped on topics, afraid of talking about their situation. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath. 

“It’s going,” she let out while laughing slightly. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she mumbled. He chuckled as she leaned down and slammed her lips against his. He was shocked for a second as she climbed onto his lap as she kissed him slowly. 

“Why are you avoiding talking about it?” he said as he pushed her back delicately. 

“‘M not,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his cheeks pulling her back towards him.

His eyes widened as he pushed her back, “It’s your birthday, happy birthday,” he let out urgently. 

A grin formed on her lips, “Oh yeah, it is, isn't it?” she mumbled as she ran her hand along his chest. His hands rested on her hips, his gaze lingering on her bare chest in front of him. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Thank you, J,”

He let out a long breath as a small smile formed on his lips, “How about we start your birthday off on the right track?” he said softly as he continued to glide his hands along her hips. 

His grip tightened along her hips as he tossed her down onto her back. A gasp fell from her lips as she kept her hands onto his chest. He leaned down towards her, hovering his lips over hers. 

There was a loud knock against her door. Jack leaned back, looking behind him towards the door. “Y/N wake your ass up!” Trevor shouted as he started blasting Birthday Bitch by Trap Beckham. 

Jack’s mouth fell open as he tried to stop himself from laughing. “Fuck it up if it’s your birthday, bitch! Fuck it up if it’s your birthday, bitch!” Trevor and Cole started singing loudly outside her door. 

“Go hide,” she whispered towards him, smacking her hands against his chest. He smirked down towards her, leaning down he pecked her lips for a few seconds. Jack hopped off of her frame as soft giggles fell from his lips. 

She followed in pursuit. He leaned down and collected his clothes. He jogged towards the walk in closet. The second he shut the door, he began to cover himself with the pajamas he had on last night. 

It didn’t take long for her to be completely clothed. The boys outside her door were still loudly yelling the lyrics. She pulled the door open, “One time for the birthday bitch, two times for the birthday bitch, three times for the birthday bitch!” They seemed to sing louder once they saw her laughing towards them. 

She tossed her head back, laughing as she saw Cole carrying a comically large plate of pancakes. It was covered in strawberries and chocolate syrup. He was shaking back and forth, shimming slightly as he held the plate towards her with a singular candle on top. Trevor was holding the speaker above his head as he was also recording Y/N’s reaction. 

“Blow out the candle and come into the living room,” Cole offered as he continued to shift the plate back and forth. She giggled before she blew out the candle. Trevor cheered before he stopped recording. He turned down the song as he stepped into the room. 

He quickly wrapped his arms around her. “Happy birthday, roomie,” he whispered into her ear. He pulled back as he smiled towards her. Her eyes widened as she grinned. 

“Shut up, really?” she mumbled. He winked towards her.

He nodded as he pointed for them to leave the room. She nodded as she followed after the pair. Her eyes widened as she saw her sister and her brother standing in the living room. “Oh my god!” she called out. She ran towards her older brother, Oliver, first. “I was supposed to come and get you guys later today!” she called out as she hugged Carlee instantly.

“We’ve got a day full of plans, Y/N. We weren’t going to make you drive us up here,” Carlee said while laughing. 

“What the hell was all that noise?” Jack said as he emerged from the hallway. His frame was fully clothed and he was acting extremely sleepy. Their eyes connected for a second before Jack let out a sudden laugh. “Ollie! I have been begging Y/N to get your ass to the house,” Jack said while laughing. He jogged towards him, hugging him instantly. Oliver chuckled while he instantly returned the hug.

“Hey Jack, we didn’t want her to waste her day on driving three hours to retrieve us,” he explained as he pulled back. “And unfortunately, I’ve got a job that practically forbids taking time off. Otherwise I would be here, Y/N’s knows that,” he said while laughing.

Jack simply nodded before looking towards Carlee, “Little Y/L/N!” he let out as he held his hand up from a high five. She returned it while rolling her eyes playfully.

~

Her door was open as she was getting ready for the club. It was a little after nine and she was still finishing her hair. There was a soft knock on the door frame of her door. She spun around to see Trevor standing at the doorway. “Hey Trev,” she said as she forced her gaze back towards the mirror in front of her. 

“So you’re all set to start working on August 15th,” he offered in a hushed tone. She spun around, resting her straightener onto the vanity. She climbed off of the chair and jogged towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, shutting her eyes. He lifted her off of the ground for a second as a soft laugh left his lips.

“It’s only temporary while you’re getting your master’s but it’ll get you more experience. It’s not on screen but you’ll be working for a professional team,” he explained as she pulled away. She sniffled as she tilted her head back, she couldn’t let tears fall onto her cheek. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said through a crack in her voice. He smiled as he shook his head. “Are you sure I can stay in your extra room?”

“Of course, just save up every cent you get. It’s going to be awesome to have you back in Anaheim,” he let out ecstatically as she leaped towards him, desperate to hug him again. He giggled as he held her tightly to his chest. “It’ll be so fun, roomie,” he offered teasingly. 

“You can’t tell anyone yet, especially not J and my siblings. Okay?” she begged. He nodded instantly, pretending to zip his lips shut. 

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” Trevor said as he turned out of her room. She practically skipped back towards the vanity. 

Jack couldn’t make out what they were talking about. But all he understood was that there was a lot of hugging and laughing. Even though he swore he watched her wipe a tear away from her cheek.

His entire body felt overheated, his chest was heavy as he watched them interact. What was so secret that she had to go to Trevor about it? What did he have that Jack didn’t? Despite everything in his frame, begging to slam the door shut; he shut it delicately as he walked towards the seltzer on his dresser.

He instantly brought the can towards his lips as he began to chug the drink. He realized pretty quickly, he was going to need a lot more drinks to pretend like he doesn’t care about what just happened between them. 

He brought his cologne towards his chest, he sprayed it on either side of his neck  and then lower on his frame. He took a deep breath as he rested it onto the top of the dresser. He took his empty can, squeezing it in his hand before he reached towards the door.

He swung it open as he stormed out of his room. He continued to take deep breaths as he avoided the gaze of all of the people gathered in the living room. He needed more, stronger, liquid courage to pretend everything was normal and okay. Pretend that he’s completely okay with his soulmate hugging and giggling with his best friend. 

He poured out a shot of tequila and instantly tossed it back. He didn’t wince at the taste as he poured himself another one. He rested the large glass bottle onto the counter top as he stared at the small red solo cup in front of him. 

“I thought you hated tequila,” she mumbled as she leaned her head against the door frame. He kept his gaze on the full shot in front of him. His grip tightened on the counter while he shrugged his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He nodded before he took a hold of the shot and tossed it back. He didn’t react as he took the small plastic shot glass and tossed it into the trash. He lifted his gaze up from the floor, meeting her eye.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she watched him clench his jaw for a second. She watched as the wheels turned in his head, “Are you okay, J?” she asked again while stepping deeper into the kitchen.

She watched as his body practically says fuck it while he pushed away from the counter. He walked directly towards her and took a hold of her head in his hands while he kissed her hard. Stumbling back, she took a hold of his arms for stability. It took her by surprise but she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

The kiss didn’t last long since Jack pulled back almost as fast as he kissed her. It felt like all of her blood rushed to her head and the alcohol in her system took front and center. He kept his hold of her cheeks for a moment, his breathing fast as he was running his thumb along the apples of her cheeks.

Stepping back, he ran his hand along his chin. He walked past her, leaving her frozen in place; in utter shock at what just occurred.

Her shaky hand reached towards the cabinet for stability, her legs suddenly weak beneath her. Looking behind her, she assumed that no one saw what just occurred as they were exactly how she left them. She took a much needed deep breath as she practically stumbled towards the fridge. 

She pulled the fridge open and pulled out another White Claw. She didn’t hesitate as she popped the tab open and brought the drink towards her lips. She walked out of the kitchen towards the living room.

“Finish that drink, asap, we’ve got the Ubers like down the street,” Trevor offered. Her eyes widened as she looked towards Jack who was staring towards his phone in his hand. She nodded before she brought the White Claw to her lips. She began chugging. The entire room beside Jack started cheering for her. She crushed it after she was done and giggled. 

Her gaze lingered on Jack but no one noticed, or cared, at the way she was staring towards him. A sigh fell from her lips as she allowed him to ignore her. 

For the next several hours, her and Carlee were the ones at the center of the nightclub’s dance floor. The boys were all hanging on the outside of the dance floor keeping an eye on the pair. A few girls would walk up towards them, begging for their attention. All of the boys except Jack were taking the bait.

A blond girl parked her way in front of him, “You look lonely,” she shouted towards him. He shrugged as he looked past her, seeing Y/N dance and spin almost as if in slow motion. “Your friends all left you alone,” she called out. She drunkenly rested her hand onto his knee. 

The second she touched him, he forced his gaze towards her. “I’m not available!” he shouted towards her. He stood up from his bra stool chair as he slipped away from her. 

Y/N and Carlee were singing and swaying along to the songs. They were both ecstatic that they were able to do this now. Despite it not necessarily being legal. They spent most of their young adolescent years imagining what it would be like to dance drunk side by side in a sweaty night club. Just them two against the world.

Y/N leaned towards Carlee, “You have to get back out there! Go meet someone!” she shouted. Carlee shyly shook her head as she continued to dance to the beat of the song. “Come on! It’s been too long since you’ve gotten any action!” she called out. Carlee pouted her lips as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“What about you? You go find someone!” Carlee delicately pushed Y/N back slightly. 

“I have someone,” she said, unsure if Carlee heard her, “Go find someone!” Y/N said, pushing Carlee away from her. She spun around, expecting to just continue dancing alone. She was surprised to see Jack in front of her. She grinned as she saw him. “Hey! Where’ve you been!?” she called out.

He shrugged as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. He scanned her frame, truly for the first time that night. His mind was too busy to notice how incredibly stunning she looked. Her frame was only covered by a skin tight short black dress. It was glittery and she was practically reflective from the dark blue club lights.

He leaned towards her ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t say this sooner but you look fucking stunning,” he pulled back, watching her eyes lit up from the words leaving his lips. 

“Dance with me!” she shouted towards him, taking a hold of his dark blue button up. It was only buttoned to the middle of his chest. 

“The others could see us!” he shouted. 

“Let it be a drunken dance!” she shouted as she pulled him closer to her. He didn’t hesitate another second as he looped his arms around her waist. They began to dance insync their bodies pressed against one another. 

They stayed facing one another, dancing to the beat of the song as their faces were near inch away from one another. He smiled softly every time their eyes would connect. 

After a few songs passed, she began to spin away from him. Her first intention was to walk away from him, craving another drink. Instead, Jack pulled her back towards him, forcing her back against his chest. 

“Stay,” he whispered into her ear before he brushed her hair away from her neck. 

“Please stay,” he whispered as he pressed his lips beneath her ear. She tilted her head back as her breathing quickened. She didn’t argue, she didn’t want to leave. She craved their bodies to be pressed against one another; moving perfectly together. Almost as if their bodies were made for one another.

“So fucking stunning,” he whispered into her ear as his hands seemed to pull her tighter to his frame. She grinned widely as she leaned into him fully, letting him take control of the way their bodies moved.

~~~

The rest of the night was a blurr. She barely remembered dancing with Jack for the night. Barely remembered how she got back to the house, barely remembered how she ended up in her bed. She had her pajamas on and was alone. 

It’s been several weeks since the last time she woke up alone. Every day in the last three weeks, she was curled up in Jack’s arms. Waking up alone shocked her. 

It was eight in the morning and the rest of the group was still asleep, well besides her brother and sister. They had to head back to their hometown early and Y/N was barely awake enough to say goodbye. 

Her hair was soaking wet from the twenty minute shower she took. It was mainly to fix the raging hangover she was feeling. She gave Oliver and Carlee one more quick hug before she watched them walk down the porch towards his car in the driveway. 

Oliver had a few questions for her, mainly about how her and Jack were inseparable for the entire night. She claimed that she barely remembers dancing with him and that it was probably because they were too drunk to even know what they were doing.

Which was not entirely a lie but she didn’t know how to tell her brother that she was hooking up with Jack and that she was falling for him. 

But she stood in the living room and spun around to hear steps charging towards her. “Was that Ollie?” Jack said as his voice rasped as he spoke. “I wanted to say bye before he left.”

“He had to get on the road early. I’m sorry,” she mumbled. He nodded as he scanned her frame. He took a deep breath as he awkwardly adjusted his shorts on his frame. “You slept in your own room last night,” she observed as she awkwardly brushed her hair away from her face. 

“You were really out of it. Thought you were better off alone,” he began walking away from her. He let out a huff of air as he started down the hallway. 

Clenching her fists as she followed after him, “Are you mad at me?” she called out after him. He spun on his heels as he let out a dry laugh.

“I’m not mad at you,” he let out somewhat harshly. He rounded the corner, he walked into her room; somewhat reluctantly. 

“I’ve been out of it before and you’ve slept in my bed, what’s so different about last night?” she explained as she followed after him. He shut the door behind her, pressing her back against the door. 

Instantly, he kissed her hard. She arched her back into him as his hands gripped her waist tightly. He took a hold of the tanktop and tugged it up her frame. “J–stop,” she let out, pushing him back. A soft laugh falling from her lips. “What is wrong?” he shook his head as he leaned towards her again, urgently trying to kiss her again. 

She raised her hand up, taking a delicate hold of his neck to stop him. He flung his head back, a huff leaving his lips. “Can we–just please,” he begged as he looked over her features desperately. She shook her head as she pushed him back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again.

He let out a dry laugh as he walked towards the center of the bedroom. “What was so secretive with you and Trevor yesterday?” he asked while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“It wasn’t a secret. We were just talking,” she said nonchalantly. 

“There was a lot of hugging and laughing,” he said accusatoryly. 

“Okay, well I was going to tell everyone about this later but–uhm–Trevor was able to get me a job with the Ducks. It barely pays anything–barely covers my tuition at Chapman but it’s a job with a professional team so I’ll get expereince. It’ll be an amazing experience,” she explained, a smile forming to her lips.

“If it barely pays anything, where are you going to live? I mean it’s California,” he asked as he forced his gaze towards the floor.

“Trevor said I could move in with him,” she said softly. 

Jack’s head shot up, his eyebrows furrowed harshly. “What? Are you two gonna share a bed or something?!”

“No! What?! He’s letting me have his guest bedroom, J. Why would you think that?” she let out harshly. 

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Jack threw his arms to the side. 

“I didn’t ask Trevor to do anything! I’ve spent all summer talking about missing California. He asked around for me! I didn’t even know until the job interview was scheduled. He went out of his way to do this for me,” 

“Oh, so you and Trevor are like best friends now, huh?” 

“Why do you care about what I am doing with Trevor?”

“I don’t.”

“Why do you care!?”

“I don’t care that you’re moving in with Trevor!?”

“Then what is this? What are we doing right now?!” she asked loudly as she motioned between them. The air was becoming thick as their voices were getting louder.

He took a deep breath as his darken gaze was looking to her eyes desperately. Tears started forming in her eyes as she continued to look towards him. 

“I don’t know,” he let out breathlessly. 

“Give me a reason to go somewhere else,” she let out softly, her heart slamming against her chest. Jack pulled his head back, his lips parting slightly as his vision went blurry ofr a second. 

“Give me a reason to go somewhere else,” she let out again, harsher and more urgent this time. 

She stared into his eyes, searching for an answer. Desperate for an answer. He clenched his jaw as his gaze went from one eye to another before shifting down towards her lips. He took a step towards her, their eyes remained connected. 

“I don’t have one,” he mumbled while tossing his hands to the side. Her mouth fell open as she nodded slowly. A scoff fell from her lips.

“You can’t think of one reason why I should go somewhere else,” she let out, her voice breaking softly. 

“No,” he let out barely above a whisper.

She chewed on her bottom lip while shifting her gaze towards the ceiling. It was as if a thousand stones collapsed onto her chest. She nodded slowly again as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. 

“Get out J,” she muttered.

“Y/N?” he asked softly. 

“Get out Jack,”

He looked into her eyes, watching a tear fall onto her cheek. Hearing his full name fall from her lips nearly made him collapse to the ground. His body went weak as the realization of what he was doing dawned on him. She never said his name like that. Rarely did it fall from her lips. But he knew that right now it meant something completely different than it did a couple days ago. 

“Why?” he asked softly, stepping towards her. 

She stayed still, keeping their eyes connected, almost as if she wanted to make sure she heard her next words. “So I can pack,” she let out as she walked past him towards the closet.

“Pack? You’re not leaving! We have two weeks left!” He took steps towards her. 

She spun around, their faces a few inches apart as both of their breathing was unsteady. “If you cannot give me a reason to go somewhere else. I have no reason to stay,” she explained as steadily as she could. 

He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. Tears were on the edge of falling onto his cheek. Jack nodded as he scanned her features. He dropped his hands to the side as he walked past her. He walked slowly towards the door. “Okay,” he let out barely above a whisper.

She pulled the closet door open and took a hold of all of the clothes she had hanging up. Jack took a hold of the door handle, watching her move quickly back and forth, tossing everything into the two suitcases she laid out onto the bed. 

He bit his bottom lip as he pulled the door open and slipped out of the room. He shut it delicately and crossed the hall towards his own room. He stepped inside, slamming the door shut.

It took her thirty minutes to pack. She kept her tears at bay, despite the headache forming from holding it back. Her body felt tense and hot every minute that passed. But it was finally time for her to leave. She walked out of the bedroom, staring towards Jack’s closed door for a few seconds before she walked towards the living room.

“Hey, hey, hey–what’s this all about?” Quinn called out as he saw her walking out of the hallway with her suitcases trailing behind her. Her eyes widened as she clenched her jaw. 

Her lips parted slightly as her bottom lip quivered. “I–uhm,” she cleared her throat as she looked down the line of all of the boys. They all jumped up from their seats and shifted their attention towards her. 

“I’m moving back to California–as in Trevor is letting me stay with him while I go back to school and work for the Ducks,” 

“That’s awesome! That’s a great opportunity!” Quinn cheered happily as he jogged towards her giving her a quick hug. 

“Look at that!” Luke let out with a chuckle.

“The Ducks? Come on now,” Cole said teasingly.

“It’s a professional team, fantastic experience on my resume,” she said softly. 

“Are we sure the Ducks are a professional team?” Cole teased. Trevor gasped as he shoved Cole.

“You’re one to fucking talk. What was your record last season, Caufield?” Trevor teased.

“You have to leave now?” Quinn asked her while glancing towards Trevor. 

“I want to get my apartment packed up and see my family before I move back to California,” she explained, “So I have to leave early,” she further explained while glancing towards Cole. 

The longer she spoke to the group, the more pain she felt behind her eyes. She gave each of the boys their own goodbye. It would be another year before she saw most of them again. Maybe a dinner in Anaheim for a game but it was still not enough. She wanted those two extra weeks wtih them. With all of them. 

“Where’s Jack?” Cole asked as he pulled away from their embrace. She met his gaze as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, she pouted her lips slightly. 

“I told him first and he’s not really happy that I’m leaving,” she explained towards the other boys. “So he’s in his room,” she muttered before taking a deep breath.

Her eyes met Cole’s again. Cole’s small smile faltered. Y/N and Cole never talked about it but she knew that he was aware of the arrangement her and Jack had. He was constantly asking questions and teasing her about it. Her lips started quivering again as she saw the way Cole was looking over her features. It was almost as if he was asking if she was okay through his eyes.

“Okay, I need to go,” she mumbled, feeling like her tears were starting to come up and she didn’t know if she could hold them back much longer. It didn’t take long for them to guide her out of the door. 

“Let us know when you get back to your apartment!” Luke shouted towards her.

She spun around smiling toward them as she walked towards her car. Keeping her back towards the boys, her tears started to fall onto her cheek. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

Cole watched the other three crowd the door watching her leave. Quickly he snuck away down the hallway towards Jack’s room. Cole took a deep breath as he didn’t hesitate to push open the door. 

Jack shot his head up from his hands. His face was covered in tears as he looked towards Cole. 

They were not the type of friends who cried in front of one another. Nothing like the way Jack was crying right now. He was never the type of guy to cry like this, but he was so overwhelmed his body lost control. 

A sob fell from his lips as he put his face back into his hands. His body shook as he continued to cry into his hands. Cole’s mouth fell open as he walked towards the bed. 

“Jack,” Cole mumbled before he sat down beside him. Jack continued to cry into his hands as Cole pressed his hand against the center of Jack’s back. 

He lifted his head up slightly, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. He sniffled while he shook his head. He looked towards Cole while shaking his head slightly. He swallowed harshly.

“I couldn’t tell her to stay,” Jack mumbled as another sob fell from his lips. 

“I couldn’t give her a reason to stay,” he forced his face back into his hands. Cole titled his head back as he took a shaky breath. He’s never seen Jack like this before, he hated seeing his friend like this. “Why couldn’t I tell her to stay?”

June 2024

Jack was sitting in the living room, a Playstation controller in his hand as he was playing Call of Duty. His arm was in a sling from the surgery he had a few weeks back. Luke was sitting beside him, a controller in his own hand. 

“What are you doing!? Dude!” Luke yelled out as he jerked towards Jack. 

“I have like one and a half hands for this!” Jack said while laughing. 

Quinn walked out of the kitchen as he pulled his phone away from his ear. He let out a huff of air as he looked towards the TV. He looked back towards his younger brothers, still yelling towards one another. 

He shifted his gaze from Luke towards Jack and then back towards his phone. Trevor sent him a text saying that they were only a few minutes from the house. Which meant it was now time to tell Jack the news.

Quinn stood at the back of the couch, he rested his hands onto the couch. He stared towards the screen, watching them both lose. He pressed his lips together as he fought off a laugh climbing in his throat.

“What was that, Lukey? You were supposed to have my back!” Jack shouted while laughing.

“I couldn’t fucking see you!” Luke shot back.

“So Trevor, Y/N, and Cole are almost here. Should probably get ready for them to get here,” Quinn said, cautiously looking down towards Jack. He said her name quickly. Luke simply nodded as he turned off the playstation with his controller. He rested it onto the coffee table before he walked towards the hallway leading towards his room.

Jack’s entire body froze as her name left Quinn’s lips. He hasn’t heard her name in months. His heart jumped into his throat as his breathing seemed to stop. It was suddenly impossible to breathe.

“Y/N’s coming?” Jack let out barely above a whisper. Her name felt foreign against his tongue as he blinked rapidly. 

Images of her flashed in his mind. The smile that literally would light up a room as soon as she would grin. The way her eyes would squint at something dumb he would say. Her lips, her perfect lips he could stare and kiss forever. He missed kissing her, he missed the way her lips pressed against his as if they were made for one another.

“Took a lot of convincing but yeah, she’ll be here,” Quinn offered. Jack shot up from the couch as he faced Quinn. He tossed his good arm to the side. 

“You guys convinced her to come here? After last summer?” Jack asked, shaking his head slightly. “Seriously?!”

Quinn took a deep breath as he shifted his gaze towards the front door. His face scrunched up slightly before he pressed his lips together. He took a deep breath, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Y/N last year but she’s not just your friend. It would be weird without her,” Quinn explained.

“Don’t you think it would be weird with her here and me here?” he asked, his heart slamming against his chest. “An–And you seriously waited to tell me she was coming until she was down the fucking road!” He called out. 

“What the hell happened between you two? I mean seriously, if any of us say her name you get all jumpy. God fucking forbid Trevor brings her up,” Quinn explained. Jack shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “You seriously cannot still be mad at her for–”

“That’s not why we stopped talking and I’m not that fucking petty!” he shouted towards Quinn before he started walking down towards the hallway leading towards his room. Jack stumbled away from Luke who was walking back into the living room. 

“What’s with him?” Luke asked as he pointed behind him. Quinn took a sharp breath as he glanced towards the front door. He saw the Uber pull up towards the lakehouse through the glass doors.

“He found out Y/N was coming,” Quinn mumbled as he watched the three of them climb out of the car. They were dragging suitcases behind them after Cole slammed the trunk closed.

“He didn’t know? It’s always the six of us, why wouldn’t she come?” Luke let out nonchalantly as he saw Cole and Trevor jog towards the doors. Y/N walked slowly, practically not moving at all. Quinn looked behind him, “They’re still not talking?” Luke questioned.

“No,” Quinn let out through a huff of air loving his lips.

“This is going to be so fun,” Luke let out sarcastically as he forced a smile to his lips. 

Cole and Trevor bolted up the porch, pushing the door open. “Quinton and Lukey boy!” Trevor shouted as he bolted inside. He excitedly hugged Quinn before he wrapped his arms around Luke. Cole chuckled as he followed in pursuit. He hugged Quinn, whispering a hello before he walked towards Luke.

Y/N walked up the steps, dragging her suitcase up the stairs. She pushed inside the door, rolling it beside Cole and Trevor’s. She forced a tight lip smile towards the four boys in front of her. 

“We’re so glad you’re here,” Quinn said as he pulled Y/N in a tight embrace. She chuckled against his chest as she returned the hug.

“I don’t think I had much of a choice. Trev threatened to drag me out of the apartment by my ankles if I didn’t come with,” she joked as she gave Luke a brief hug. She looked past him to see Jack emerging from the hallway. Her smile fell off of her lips as she dropped her gaze towards the floor. 

Jack took a deep breath as he forced a wide grin on his lips as he jogged towards the group. “What’s up you guys?” he cheered as Trevor hugged him cautiously. 

She cleared her throat as she took a hold of her suitcase. “I’m going to unpack,” she mumbled as she started walking towards the hallway leading towards her room. Her room has so many messy memories, she was almost afraid to step into it. 

The boys all shifted their gaze towards her. Her gaze was on the floor as she continued walking away from them. Their smiles all faltered as they shared awkward glances. Jack stood beside Cole as he stared towards the hallway, watching her walk away.

Cole looked over Jack’s side profile. Watching Jack clench his jaw, he saw that Jack wasn’t breathing. He saw his cheeks pink up as the lack of oxygen was starting to actually take an effect. Cole punched Jack’s good arm. Jack tilted his gaze to the side, meeting Cole’s eye. Jack took a deep breath before he forced another smile on his lips.

“You boys unpack, we have a boat to get drunk on!” Jack said loudly before he walked towards the hallway. The other boys all shared awkward laughter as they continued to talk loudly amongst each other. 

Jack walked towards his room, he reached towards the door handle. Looking behind him, he saw her door was wide open. His posture straightened as he looked into the room. His heart was slamming against his chest. 

She looked good, better than good. She was glowing. It was like seeing her for the first time again. He never wanted to look anywhere else. She was a breath of fresh air, seeing her after all of this time was like breathing for the first time ever.

He leaned back, chewing on his bottom lip as he scanned her frame. She was walking back and forth from the closet to the bed. 

She lifted her head up, looking into the hallway. Their eyes instantly connected. She froze in place as her breathing started to quicken. She gripped the shirt in her hand tightly as she began to blink rapidly. 

His lips parted as a million different words were at the tip of his tongue. He began to take a step towards her. At his sudden half step towards her, she began to walk towards the door. The corner of his lips curled upward as their eyes remained connected. She took a hold of the door and slammed it shut. 

His head pulled back, almost as if it was slammed directly in his face. He felt his skin go hot. His lips parted as he was now staring towards the closed door. He clenched his jaw as he tilted his head back. 

He opened the door to his own room as he stepped inside. Slamming it shut himself. Jack walked towards the bed and sat back down again, his breathing quickened as he shook his head.

~~~

Y/N sat in her usual spot on the boat. Her legs were curled up against her chest. Trevor was laying beside her, his head was against her thigh. Every few seconds she would brush the hair away from his forehead. Her gaze was staring towards the water as she watched the water lap. The orange glow from the sunset reflected in the water was always her favorite. 

She has hundreds of photos but nothing matched the way it looked in person. No photo could ever do it justice. She brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face as she stared towards the water. 

“Y/N,” Trevor mumbled beside her. She dropped her gaze towards him, meeting his gaze. She brushed his hair away from his forehead again. It was more for her, it was something to distract her from the fact that Jack was across from her on the boat. His body was shirtless, despite his arm still in a sling. 

“Talk to him,” he whispered. She shook her head as she looked back towards the water, her fingertips still running through his hair. She was drunk, that just clicked in her head. She was definitely drunk because she was getting dizzy staring at the water. “Y/N, come on,” 

“I’m drunk, I have nothing good to say,” she mumbled before she looked back down towards him.

Jack sat beside Quinn, his leg was bouncing hard as he stared towards Y/N. He continuously clenched his jaw as he felt his body tense. He couldn’t stand how close they’ve gotten. They could look at one another and know exactly what the other one was thinking. He hated watching her touch him so delicately, exactly like she used to with him.

She replaced him with Trevor. It was obvious. He wondered if they had a similar arrangement. It would be a lot easier. They see each other for several more months out of the year. Share a wall even. Maybe he was right, maybe they did share a bed.

He was getting more and more mad the longer he watched her glide her fingers through his hair. That was his spot. He slammed his fist against his thigh, wincing in pain as he shocked himself with the strength. He dropped his gaze towards his lap. 

“They’ve gotten close, huh?” Quinn said as he subtly pointed towards their direction. Jack looked towards Quinn, their eyes met as Jack continued to clench his jaw. He forced out a hum as he dropped his gaze back towards his lap. He began blinking rapidly, he needed to punch something. He clenched his fist on his thigh again. 

“I’m getting cold, can we head back to the house?” Jack asked softly towards Quinn. Their eyes met again. Quinn looked over Jack’s features, maybe even seeing tears brim his eyes. Quinn squinted his eyes slightly as he looked towards the other people on the boat. 

Cole was laying on the floor of the boat as he was loudly laughing with Luke. Trevor was sitting up now, a decent distance away from Y/N. He was talking to her, instead of a conversation since she was staring towards the water. 

“Are you guys ready to swing back?” he asked the group. Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting Jack’s. Their eyes remained connected as Quinn hopped into the driver’s seat. Jack ran his hand across his chin as he watched her look away. He tilted his head back, looking towards the sky as a scoff left his lips. 

“Absolutely, I’m fucking starving,” Luke said as he kicked Cole on the side teasingly. Cole jolted before he stood up from his lying position. He sat down beside Jack, purposely bumping Jack’s good shoulder. 

Cole watched Jack stare towards Y/N and Trevor. Cole swallowed harshly as he whispered, “They’re just friends.”

Jack dropped his gaze back towards his lap, “Yeah, well, so we’re we,” he said in reference to Y/N. Cole didn’t say anything further as he awkwardly shifted his gaze everywhere. 

Luke cleared his throat as he leaned back on the boat, “Pool tourney when we get back?” Luke announced, he held his hands to the side. Everyone but Jack and Y/N agreed. She rarely played and she definitely wasn’t going to play when she was this drunk. “Awesome, I’m gonna order some pizza before we start,”

“Do we have any water?” Trevor asked. Jack perked up at the question. He leaned down and took a hold of the last one in the small cooler near him. The medicine he has been on for his shoulder doesn’t mix well with alcohol. He held it up for Trevor. “Great,” he let out as he manuvered his way towards Jack.

Meeting Trevor’s gaze as he handed him the bottle. Trevor nodded slightly as he manuvered back towards his sitting position beside Y/N.

Jack watched as Y/N refused the water for a few seconds. Trevor had opened the bottle and handed it to her. She reluctantly brought it towards her lips.

It didn’t take long for the boat to get docked back by their house. Luke and Cole were the first ones to bolt off of the boat. Quinn was making sure it was secured before he ran off back towards the house. 

Jack stood up, walking towards the edge of the boat that lined up with the dock. He watched as Trevor looped his arm around her waist. She wrapped her arm around Trevor’s shoulder as he helped her off of the boat. 

“Okay, one step–good. There you go,” Trevor mumbled. Jack clenched his jaw as he watched Trevor’s hands lower on her hip as she climbed out of the boat. “Come on, Y/N,” he overheard Trevor say as they continued down the dock. Jack stood still while he ran his hand over his bad shoulder.

“Tell me what happened with you two,” Quinn offered as he stood at the end of the dock. Quinn rested his hands onto his hips as he stepped away from the boat. Jack climbed off of the boat, meeting Quinn’s gaze. 

“It’s a long story,” Jack let out defeatedly. 

“Luke’s probably ordering everything off of the menu, we’ve got time.” Quinn offered as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ll walk really slowly,” he let out jokingly. Jack tossed his head back while laughing.

“Okay,” Jack let out a breath he was holding. “I had a game against the Red Wings the Decemember before last summer. I couldn’t sleep and I honestly was excited to see her. So I invited her to come hang out at my hotel room—” he began to explain as he glanced towards Quinn.

“You didn’t,” Quinn mumbled.

“I didn’t plan on anything. I literally just wanted to hang out with her. But I kissed her and one thing led to another and we hooked up,” he avoided Quinn’s eye, “We hooked up and I thought everything went back to normal. I mean she went to lunch with Lukey and I; and she went to my game. It was normal. After that, everything was fine. We texted and called everyday, it was fine,” 

“I was nervous to see her in person again. But it seemed so fine between us that it seemed like it was going to be perfectly normal. And then she walked through that door and I swear to God she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Didn’t the three of them burst into the house singing Hot in Herre by Nelly last year?” Quinn asked while laughing. 

“They did,” Jack chuckled softly, “But she was so beautiful and funny because you know that definitely was her idea,” he shook his head slightly. “We were avoiding each other that first day here until that night when we hooked up again,”

Quinn let out an urgent breath while shaking his head. 

“And then we thought–I thought–why should we stop? So I brought up doing a little arrangement where we have sex and you know be friends,” 

“So friends with benefits?” Quinn asked as he rested his hands onto his hips.

“Uh, yeah. It happened all summer until we argued the morning after her birthday. I got jealous over the fact that she was moving in with Trevor. I was mad that she went to him about her struggles instead of me. I was mad that I wasn’t her person even though we slept together and she fell asleep in my arms every night. I was pissed and she left,” 

Quinn stopped walking, gripping Jack’s good arm. “So she didn’t leave early to pack her apartment up?” he asked. Jack shook his head. “Holy shit,” Jack nodded slowly as the pair began walking again. “Every night, really?” Quinn asked as his face scrunched up slightly. 

Jack let out a nervous laugh while running his hand across his chin. “Sometimes during the day too,” he mumbled while Quinn groaned.

“Oh god, I did not need to know that,”

Trevor guided her towards her bedroom, his arm still looped around her waist to stablize her. Trevor carefully rested her onto the bed. She slumped slightly as she forced her eyes open. “How much did you drink?” he asked her, “I swear it wasn’t more than like four?” he said as he walked towards the closet. He pulled the door open. Looking behind him, he saw her lean back onto her hands. 

“It was four Caufield Cocktails and–” she hiccuped, “I didn’t eat today,” she explained. His eyes widened as he took a hold of a t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“You let Cole make you drinks and you didn’t eat today?! Did you want a death sentence?” Trevor let out urgently as he walked towards the bed. He dropped the clothes beside her. 

“I didn’t wanna see Jack,” she slurred as she slumped her shoulders slightly. 

Trevor straightened her posture. “Let’s get out of this,” he said, referring to the bikini and coverall on her body. 

“I’ve got it,” she mumbled. He stared towards her suspiciously. “Turn around,” she urged. He nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest as he stared towards the closet door. 

“What happened with you and Jack?” he asked, hoping she would spill the beans because she was so drunk. 

“You’re only asking me because you think I won’t remember telling you,” she explained as she pulled the coverall off her frame. She tossed it to the floor. She took a deep breath as she took a hold of the t-shirt. Slowly, she brought it over her frame, carefully putting her arms through the arm holes. Her bikini top was still on her frame but she didn’t realize it. 

“Why don’t you want to see Jack?” Trevor asked, still facing away from her. 

She took in a dramatic breath as she stood up from the bed, stumbling slightly. After a few seconds, she took a hold of her shorts and slid them up her frame. “We hooked up,” she mumbled. 

Trevor spun around a gasp leaving his lips. “You what?!” 

“And then we hooked up all last summer,” she let out as she sat down onto the bed. Trevor dropped his hands to the side. “Like–mind blowing sex all of the time,” she explained drunkenly. Trevor cringed at every word that left her lips but she was drunk so he let it slide. 

“Wait, did you two hook up before the summer?” he asked as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

She laid down onto the bed. “I asked him to gi–give me a reason to not go,” she explained as she pulled the comforter towards her face. Slowly, she snuggled into the blanket. Her eyes shut. “He couldn’t,” she let out as she got teary eyed. She sniffled as she hugged the blanket towards her face. 

“I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason,” she mumbled right before she completely fell asleep.

Trevor froze as he watched her fall asleep mid conversation. He stood up from the bed, his head dizzy from the sudden information dumped onto him. He asked for it and he was expecting anything but the information she told him. He took a sharp intake of breath as he snuck out of her room. 

He walked towards the living room watching Quinn and Jack walk into the house. Trevor’s eyes went wide as he darted towards the basement where the pool tournament was being held. Trevor needed to avoid Jack, desperately needed to hide the drunk information that Y/N told him at his request.

He was better off not knowing. Trevor practically leaped down the stairs. Cole and Luke were setting up the table as they were laughing loudly. Luke jolted back as he watched Trevor nearly fall down the steps. 

“Is Y/N okay?” Cole asked while leaning against the bar countertop. 

“You are not allowed to make her drinks anymore,” he pointed accusingly towards Cole. Cole chuckled while rolling his eyes playfully. “She’s asleep in her room. I’m probably gonna wake her up in like two hours to eat some food,” he explained as he walked towards the pool table. 

“I am a great bartender,” Cole offered before he brought his red solo cup towards his lips. Trevor rolled his eyes as he spun his head around to see Jack and Quinn walking down the stairs. He forced his gaze towards the pool table in front of him, his eyes wide. “Finally, Jacky you’re on scorekeeper,” Cole expressed as he pushed away from the bar top.

Jack rolled his eyes playfully as he sat down on the couch beside the chalkboard. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he began to scroll through his Twitter feed. Trevor gulped as he ran his fingers through his hair. The only thought on his mind was the drunken words that fell from Y/N’s lips.

I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason. I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason. I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason.

Trevor desperately wanted to tell Jack what she told him but he knew it wasn’t his place. He was forced into silence as he took a hold of a pool stick. 

“Trev,” Jack said as he lifted his gaze up from his phone for a second. Trevor spun around, looking towards Jack. “Is she okay?” the question fell from his lips at a genuine tone. The question had been circling his mind from the moment he saw her stumbling off of the boat.

Trevor scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “So now you care how she’s doing?” Trevor asked as the room fell silent. Cole, Quinn, and Luke shared awkward glances as they awkwardly huddled together on the opposite side of the pool table. 

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he pulled his head back slightly, “What?” Jack asked as he looked into Trevor’s eyes. Trevor clenched his jaw as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Do you wanna know why she’s passed out drunk at seven p.m.?” Trevor pointed his question to Jack. Slowly, Jack stood up, shrugging slightly. He looked into Trevor’s eyes, squinting slightly. 

“She didn’t want to see you! I don’t know what happened with you two last summer, but it was so bad that she would rather be passed out alone and drunk than be around you!” Trevor said harshly. 

“You’re right! You don’t know what happened, so keep your mouth shut!” Jack expressed loudly as he pushed Trevor back. Trevor clenched his jaw as he scanned Jack’s features. “Especially you!”

“Especially me, what the hell does that mean?!” Trevor shouted.

Jack clenched his jaw as he shook his head slightly. A dry chuckle left his lips while shaking his head. After several seconds, Jack started walking away. “Keep track of your own fucking scores,” he shouted out towards the group as he bolted up the steps.

His entire body tensed as he walked towards the kitchen; desperate for a drink. He wasn’t supposed to drink on the medication he was on but one drink wouldn’t kill him. At least he thought it wouldn’t kill him. He took a hold of the large vodka bottle and poured it into a large red solo cup. It was definitely more than two shots but he didn’t care. He took a hold of a mixer and poured it into the cup; maybe to dilute it.

He brought it towards his lips and took long sips. It didn’t take long for the cup to be empty. He tossed the cup into the trash can before he stormed out of the kitchen again. He walked down the hall towards his room. 

Taking a hold of the door handle, he shifted his gaze towards her room. He took a deep breath as he tossed his head back. She was going to wake up so hungover tomorrow. He shifted back and forth, debating on if he should go inside. 

He sighed as he walked out away from the doors. Jack manuvered through the living room and back towards the kitchen.

He darted towards the fridge, pulling it open swiftly. Jack took a hold of a water bottle. A groan fell from his lips as he slammed it shut. He walked towards the opposite side of the kitchen, flavor packets were all laid out in a container. He took a hold of one of the liquid IV packets and began walking out of the kitchen again.

“What am I doing?” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. He let out a huff of air as he walked down the hall. “Stupid,” he muttered as he pushed the door open. His eyes landed on her, she was asleep. Her face was smashed into the pillow. His heart jumped into his throat. He delicately shut the door behind him.

Walking towards her, he squeezed the plastic water bottle in his head a few times. He sat down beside her, he rested the bottle on the nightstand. He dropped the packet beside the bottle. Carefully, he rested his hand onto her arm. He shook her slightly, she jolted awake. Her eyes widened instantly. 

He muffled a laugh as he watched her blink rapidly. She looked towards Jack, a groan falling from her lips. “Go away,” she mumbled as she smashed her face deeper into the pillow. 

Jack carefully twisted the top of the water bottle off and rested it onto the nightstand. He took the packet of liquid IV and brought it towards his mouth. Using his teeth, he ripped open the packet. 

“Pizza should be here soon, you should stay up to eat and then go to bed,” he explained as he managed to pour the powder into the plastic water bottle. Only spilling some of the powder onto the nightstand. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, her eyes shutting again. He covered the water bottle again before he took a hold of it. He began shaking it to mix it together. “Go away, Jack,”

“Drink this,” he slammed it down onto the nightstand, “Or don’t. Whatever,” he mumbled before he stood up from the bed. Without looking back he walked out of the room and directly towards his own room. 

~~~

The following few days were still awkward with everyone. Jack was isolating himself, he thought it would be better to let himself cool off. He was avoiding being social and having to explain his outburst. Even though Quinn and Trevor knew what it was about. Trevor tried to not take it personally. 

Luke was trying to pry, nosy and desperate for details. He was constantly bugging Trevor for details. Y/N was completely out of the loop, no one told her about Jack and Trevor’s argument. They were doing everything in their power to still enjoy their time away with the tension between Y/N and Jack. 

She walked out of her room, her frame only covered by a black bikini. Her gaze was on her phone as she was adjusting the sunglasses on her head. She pushed her hair back as she rested it back down onto her head. 

Lifting her head up, she saw a shirtless Jack standing just in front of the doorway to the kitchen. Their eyes connected. Her lips parted slightly as she felt her legs feel weak beneath her. Suddenly, breathing felt impossible as she continued to look into his softening gaze. Clenching her jaw, she tapped her thumb against her phone screen.

He looked good. She hated that he looked good. She could’ve sworn that his body was not this toned last summer. Her gaze lowered towards his body, scanning each curve of his muscles. A memory flashed in her mind of her sitting in his lap, admiring the way his body tensed and flexed under her touch. The way her fingertips glided along his skin, purposely creating a reaction out of him.

Swallowing harshly, she forced her gaze back up towards him. Their eyes connected again and it felt like time stopped. She took a quick breath realizing she hasn’t took a breath in several long seconds. 

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked barely above a whisper. 

Jack’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he glanced behind him. He flung his arms to his side. His sling is no longer on his arm. He was cleared yesterday to start physical therapy which meant no more brace and sling. 

“Gym,” he let out simply before he nodded slowly. 

“Where’s your sling?” she asked while pointing towards him with her hand holding her phone. 

Looking down, almost as if he forgot it was gone. He took a sudden breath as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s only as needed now,” he explained while nodding. She hummed as she dropped her gaze towards the floor. 

“Thank you for the other night. I know I was pretty out of it but I remember you helping me,” she explained. The words left her lips genuinely. The space between them is seemingly shrinking. She wasn’t sure if she was walking towards him or if it was the other way around. 

“I just put the powder in the water bottle and put it on the nightstand,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“With one hand, it was impressive,” she let out jokingly. A breathy laugh left his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I’ve got skills,” he let out teasingly. 

She chuckled softly as she rolled her eyes playfully. He let out another laugh as he looked into her eyes. Desperate to find out if this was momentary or if she was okay with being around him. But the tight-lip polite smile that formed onto her lips told him that it was momentary and that she was darting to the opposite side of the house again. 

“I’m gonna–” she trailed off before she turned and began to walk towards the backdoor leading towards the back deck. Jack didn’t call after her, didn’t say anything more. He let out a long breath before he plopped down onto the couch; careful of his shoulder. 

It took another twenty minutes before the other boys returned to the house. Luke led the charge. Steam practically spewing out of his ears. He stormed inside. “You and Y/N hooked up?��� he yelled out accusingly. Jack spun around, his mouth falling open. His gaze shifted towards Quinn who was following after Luke urgently. “Why the hell would you guys do that!?” he yelled out.

“Fucking can’t tell Quinn anything,” Jack mumbled before he looked towards Quinn harshly. He watched an apology fall from his lips. 

“So that’s why you two can’t fucking stand being in the same room as one another?”

“Lukey,” Jack mumbled as he stood up from the couch.

“You couldn’t keep it in your pants so you made it awkward for everyone else! What am I supposed to do, choose sides?!” Luke continued to shout. 

Trevor and Cole disappeared outside where Y/N was at. Quinn shifted awkwardly as he watched his youngest brother’s skin turn pink from anger.

“This has nothing to do with you!”

“You ruined a perfect thing that we had going here! It was your rule to not pursue her!” Luke called out. 

Y/N was sitting on one of the chairs outside, her sunglasses on her face and her Kindle in front of her. Trevor and Cole were whispering towards one another as they looked back towards her.

Pulling the Kindle away from her gaze, she looked at the boys in front of her. “What can I do for you?” She asked sarcastically as she rested the Kindle beside her. The sound of muffled yelling came from inside. She turned around looking inside. “What’s happening?” She asked softly.

“I think everyone knows,” Trevor mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded slowly trying to understand what he meant by that.

“Know what?” she asked, drawing out the words. 

“About you and Jack,” he let out as he took a deep breath. She shook her head slowly, still confused on what Trevor was getting at. He let out a dramatic sigh, “About you two hooking up last summer,” he let out as if it was holding him hostage.

Her mouth fell open as she shook her head. A nervous chuckle fell from her lips. “How did you know about that?” She asked Trevor, mainly pointing her question to Cole.

“You told me the other night,” he let out while looking towards the sky.

“Did I tell you or did you pry the information out of me because I was drunk,” she asked while resting her hands onto her hips. “Wait, how does Quinn and Luke know?” She asked glancing behind her, the muffled yelling was continuing.

“I guess Jack told Quinn and you know Quinn can’t keep a secret,” Trevor said. Trevor’s eyes widened as he looked towards Cole. A gasp fell from Trevor’s lips, “Wait how did you know?!”

Cole tossed his head back and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Because I have eyes, Because I am observant!” he let out through a laugh. Trevor scoffed. “I mean this with love, Y/N, but Jack’s a slut and Y/N likes to have a good time, right? But all of a sudden both of them stopped bringing people home for the night or were disappearing for hours on end together. Ya’ll just can’t pay attention to shit.”

“Were we really that obvious?” she pointed her question to Cole. 

“Clearly not to anyone else,” Cole mumbled as she shoved Trevor to the side. 

The muffled yelling seemed to simmer down but it was obvious tension was still high between the brothers inside. Jack stepped outside, a huff of air leaving his lips. His eyes widened as he was surprised to see Y/N still sitting outside. Her body straightened. 

Without saying anything, Trevor and Cole both agreed to walk back into the house to leave Y/N and Jack alone. Jack’s eyes widened as he watched them walk away from them. She clenched her jaw as she slumped into the chair while she tilted her head back against the chair. 

“So Quinn and Luke know about us,” Jack let out quietly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she pursed her lips forward. “And I guess Trevor does too. I think Cole always knew,” he continued while crossing his arms over his chest. His declaration was left in the air for a second. She nodded as she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. He chuckled dryly as he began to walk towards the chair on the opposite side of her.

“Jack,” she let out softly as she trailed his movements. He let out a dramatic groan as he flopped down onto the chair. He took a hold of his shoulder, wincing. His face scrunched up in disgust. “So you told Quinn?”

Jack nodded as a hum fell from his lips, “Wouldn’t stop asking me questions,” he explained while looking towards her, maybe meeting her gaze.

“I told Trevor,” she turned her head, looking down towards her lap. She began twisting the ring on her pointer finger. 

“Figured,” Jack mumbled.

Clenching her jaw, she took a deep breath. “It was the other night when I was drunk. He knew I wouldn’t remember telling him,” she explained. Jack’s eyes widened as his posture straightened. “Trev, also wouldn’t stop asking me questions,” she explained. He nodded slowly as he tapped his fingertips against the arm of the chair. 

They sat beside each other in silence, feeling as though there was a literal wall forming between them. Her body was erupting in goosebumps as she kept glancing in his direction. He was already looking towards her with a thousand words on the tip of his tongue. 

“How’s living with Trevor?” Jack as he leaned forward, resting his arms onto his thighs. She pulled the sun glasses from her face, folding them and resting it onto the side table.

“Pretty lonely honestly,” she mumbled. Jack furrowed his eyebrows as their eyes connected. His breath caught in his throat, god her eyes were so beautiful. Clenching her jaw for a moment, “He was gone a lot with his girlfriend and games. I didn’t mind it but yeah it’s been fine,” she explained softly. 

Jack nodded as he chewed on his bottom lip, “How’s the job?” he asked. Instantly, her eyes lit up as a wide grin formed to her lips.

She began to talk rapidly about the experience. It was everything and more than what she expected. She probably was talking for more than a couple minutes but Jack didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was the fact that he has missed hearing her voice more than anything. 

He forgot how much her voice relaxed him, every ounce of tension in his body seemed to disappear. Any amount of frustration seemed to disappear in a moment's notice. All he wanted was for her to know that he missed her more than anything.

She took a deep breath after she explained a story about her new co-workers. He laughed with her as she told the story. Her laugh was probably his favorite sound. No matter how loud or muffled it sounded, it was his favorite. 

After a few more seconds, Trevor stepped out into the back patio. Clearing his throat, he shifted awkward glances between Y/N and then to Jack. “Cole’s dying to go clubbing. You guys in?” Trevor asked, looking towards Y/N if she needed any assistance. 

“Definitely,” Jack and Y/N said at the same time. She jolted her gaze back towards Jack, suddenly hyper aware of the situation. She cleared her throat.

“I’m going to go get ready then,” she stood up as she spoke. 

“It’s like noon,” Jack let out teasingly. 

Her mouth fell open, “I mean if I’m going to a club, I’m going to need a nap,” she offered without looking back towards the boys behind her. 

“Yeah me too,” Jack mumbled as he stood up. He began to walk past Trevor, instead Trevor took a hold of Jack’s arm. 

“I’m sorry about–”

“No I’m sorry,” Jack interrupted, “I don’t know what she told you or how much she told you but I’ve been a dick to you and that’s not on you,” he explained.

Trevor let out a soft laugh, “Okay, well, that’s true but I didn’t have to come at you like that,” he said softly. 

Jack let out a long dramatic sigh as the pair started walking back towards the house, “Yeah, well, I deserved it,”

~~~

It was well into the night and they were all gone. Drunk and dizzy but they were all dancing like nothing mattered. No focus on cameras or wandering eyes, they were there to enjoy themselves and that is what they did.

Luke, Cole, and Trevor had disappeared early in the night. Each of them had texted the group chat that they were busy. Which is code for they found a girl and were either leaving with her or they were sticking together for rest of the night. 

Quinn was in big brother mode, busy scanning the crowd making sure the ones that were still there werwe safe. In reality, he was focusing on Y/N making sure she was okay and able to still function. He was enjoying himself, dancing with a few girls here and there but he kept watching over Y/N.

Jack stood near the bartop, his eye strictly on Y/N. He was leaning back on his arms, a drink still in his hand. His gaze scanned her movements, his frame overheating. Perhaps from the heat of the endless bodies in the night club or because of her. He chewed on his bottom lip, feeling his heart slam against his chest. 

Her body seemed to move perfectly in sync with the beat of the song. Her hips swayed back and forth as her hands seemed to move freely with her. She was alone, between the sea of people; seemingly pushing away any guy that tried to get close and personal with her. 

Jack contemplated on walking towards her, dancing with her but he knew it was better off staying away. 

Until Jack saw a man that seemed double his own size approach her. He titled his head back as he waited for her to send him packing. Yet she spun around looking towards the freakishly tall man. She continued to sway and move to the beat of the song, her hands rested on the stranger’s chest. Jack cleared his throat as he watched her spin around. 

His lips parted as the stranger pulled her against his frame. The stranger was whispering in her ear. It was dark and hard to see in the club but he could see Y/N’s smile from miles away. It was wide and bright. Jack was sure it was a drunken grin but she looked like she was enjoying every second of it. 

Jack’s vision blurred as he felt his entire body tense. He pulled his drink towards his lips as he chugged the whole drink. He left it on the bar top, the ice was the only thing remaining in the glass.

If she can flaunt being with someone else, so could he. 

Sure, he was mad. He was always the jealous type with her. Never was with any of his girlfriends but with Y/N he was so possessive. He hated when any of the other guys were close with her but it never made sense before. For years, he thought it was because she was his favorite and close friend.

But it didn’t take long for him to realize it was because he was in love with her. He never wanted anyone else to be near her with any kind of intentions. But she clearly no longer felt the same way. Or she never felt the same way, he wasn’t sure.

He darted through the sea of people, trying to find someone, anyone, willing to participate in his act of making Y/N jealous. Or maybe make her look in his direction. He could still see her in his line of sight as he approached a model-esq blonde woman. Instantly, she spun around smiling towards Jack. 

It didn’t take much effort from Jack. The girl scanned Jack’s features and instantly took a hold of Jack’s black t-shirt and pulled him towards her. He looped his arms around the girl’s waist letting her lead the motion. She instantly pressed her ass against him. Jack’s eyes widened, as he followed her movements. His body instantly reacted at the contact. 

Jack looked towards Y/N, watching her seemingly ignore him. A huff of air left his lips as he tried to focus on the beautiful girl in front of him. But she wasn’t his beautiful girl. His beautiful girl was in the arms of someone else. He hated it. After a few seconds, he shifted his gaze towards the girl in front of him for only a moment.

Lifting his head up, looking back towards Y/N’s direction and she was gone. Jack froze in place, forcing the girl in front of him to let out an exasperated sigh and slip away from his grasp. Jack barely noticed that she was no longer pressed against him, he stood still. His eyes widened as he watched the sea of people move and shift; hoping for Y/N to be in his line of sight. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, he sighed as he pulled it out.

Y/N: Ubering back to the lakehouse, not alone!

He stared towards the message and was convinced he heard his heart shatter in his chest. He clenched his jaw repeatedly as he continued to stare at the message. The boys in the chat started sending in messages, wolf whistling through text. He swallowed harshly.

His feet seemed to be cemented into the ground at the center of the dance floor. He couldn’t move. His mind began to replay their last moment together in this club. How beautiful she looked in the skin tight black dress. Memories of him bunching the fabric in his hands, the way her body moved in sync with his. The smile on her lips as he whispered into her ear. His body reacted and blended perfectly with hers. 

He swallowed harshly as the image was soon replaced with her dancing with someone else. How was he supposed to go home and sleep across the hall? He squeezed his phone in his hand before he dropped his hand to the side.

He was jolted, blinking rapidly as he looked towards Quinn beside him. He took a shaky breath as he met Quinn’s gaze. “Let’s go home!” Quinn shouted to Jack, keeping a hold of Jack’s arm. 

“How am I supposed to do that!?” he shouted towards Quinn. Jack’s eyes were tearing up as he looked into his older brother’s gaze. “I can’t!” Jack let out while shaking his head. 

Quinn nodded slowly. “You can! Come on!” he shouted, dragging him through the crowd of people. 

The ride back to the lake house took twenty minutes and Jack didn’t say a single word. Quinn didn’t pry, didn’t say anything about what was probably happening in her bedroom back at the lake house. 

He was practically steaming with frustration. He was mad at himself more than anything. He messed everything up because he was jealous and scared. He couldn’t tell her he was in love with her. He couldn’t bring himself to say it to her and now she’s done with him.

He squinted his eyes harshly as he the image of the man pressed against Y/N, flirting and dancing against one another. He clenched his fist repeatedly as he hit it against his thigh.

Cole, Trevor, and Luke were all going to different girls’ houses, which meant Quinn, Jack, and Y/N were the only ones left at the lake house. The Uber pulled up to the house. Letting the two boys out. 

Jack was darting towards the door, no hesitation in any of his steps towards the house. “Jack!” Quinn called out as he chased after him. Jack didn’t slow down a second as he bolted toward the hallway where their shared bedrooms were at. “Jack! Come on!” Quinn shouted as he jogged after him. Jack was raising his hand, ready to slam his fist against the door. “Jack seriously!” Quinn stopped beside Jack.

A scoff left Jack’s lips as he rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t get to do this! Not with me across the hall!” he let out loudly. 

“She does! She has every right to move on and so do you!” Quinn said as he pointed towards the door. 

“I don’t want–” he trailed off as he tilted his head back. “She can move on all she wants in California but not here! Not in my own damn house!” he whispered loudly as he went to raise his hand up to knock on the door.

“Jack,” Quinn scolded as her door was pulled open enough for her to poke her head out. 

A sudden gasp left their lips as their eyes widened. “Y/N,” Quinn let out quietly. 

“Y/N, please don’t do this,” Jack pleaded as he looked into her eyes. A huff of air left her lips as she pulled the door open to reveal that she was alone in her room. 

“Do what?” she asked knowingly. Jack let out a dry laugh while shaking his head. “I only told you guys that so Trevor would get off my back,” she explained as her hand flung behind her to show that there was no one on the bed. 

“So what is this? Is this some game to you?” Jack asked harshly.

“A game? What are you talking about, Jack?!” she shouted back towards you, stepping closer to him.

Quinn spun on his heel and instantly walked away from the pair. He shook his head as a huff of air left his lips. He jogged up the stairs towards his own room, leaving them alone. He wanted nothing to do with whatever was about to happen downstairs.

“Is this to get back to me?!” Jack shouted as he threw his arms to the side. He took a step closer to her.

“You? Seriously, Jack, not everything is about you!” she yelled towards him tossing her hands to the side.

“You can’t bring guys back here!” he let out loudly. 

“Why do you care!?” she shouted towards him, a scoff left his lips.

“Because–” he let out softly as he glanced towards the living room. 

“You know what, you– you don’t get to care if I sleep with other people! You have no reason to care about me!” she shouted towards him. “You’ve made that very clear,” she let out softer.

He swallowed harshly as he scanned her features. He hasn’t been this close to her in so long he almost forgot how breathtaking she was. She was holding a breath as she looked into his eyes. Her skin ran hot as she saw the way his eyes were looking over her frame. His gaze flickered down towards her lips as he clenched his jaw. Lifting his gaze, he looked into her eyes. 

“Very fucking clear,” she mumbled breathlessly.

“You can do whoever you want when you’re in California but keep it out of my house,” he stepped towards her, their faces were only a few inches apart. Her breath caught in her throat as she scanned his reddening features. She watched him take a sudden breath as he looked from one eye to the other. 

“What are you going to do? Keep me under lock and key?” she whispered harshly.

“If I have to,” he mumbled.

“You’re such a dick,” she muttered as she lowered her gaze towards his lips. “I saw you at the club dancing with that girl, you don’t get to act all high and mighty acting like you weren’t doing the same thing,” 

He clenched his jaw as he nodded slowly. “And what was I doing exactly?” he asked as he stepped towards her, forcing her to step back slightly. 

“Trying to make me jealous,” 

“Did it work?” he asked with a smirk threatening his lips. She felt her legs weaken beneath her. 

“No,” she muttered. “I don’t care about you anymore,”

“Then why isn’t the door in my face?” he asked breathlessly, leaning towards her. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her chest. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her, pressing his lips against his urgently. A moan fell from his lips as he pulled her closer to him. Their tongues entwined instantly as they stumbled back, their bodies pressed against one another. He quickly kicked his shoes off, not caring if they were obviously left outside of her door.

She was mad at him but she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. She wanted nothing more than to be this close to him again, she craved his touch. He bunched up the fabric of the skin tight dress covering her frame.

Jumping up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Jack took a hold of her legs, to support her. Hissing in pain, he dropped his bad arm and let it hang beside him. She pulled her lips back, taking a hold of his cheeks. Bumping their noses together in the process.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I forgot,” she whispered breathlessly. A breathy chuckle fell from his lips as a small smile formed to his lips.

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” he mumbled as he slammed his lips against hers. With one hand he kept a hold of her thigh tightly against his frame. He carried her into her bedroom, using his other arm to swing the door shut. He pressed her back against the door, a breathy moan fell from her lips as she tilted her head back.

Jack desperately began to trail his lips down the center of her neck. Slowly, he circled his tongue as he continued to trail wet kisses down her skin. He twisted the lock on the door before he carried her towards the bed. She took a hold of his cheeks, desperately needing his lips on hers again. 

Slowly, she glided down her frame, his hand loosening his grip as their lips remained connected. Her hands glided along his chest as he reached behind her. He took a hold of the zipper and instantly started gliding it down her frame. Without hesitation, he began to pull it from her body. She helped him in the process as she kicked it away from them.

His fingertips glided along the skin of her lower back, his body overheating. Finally and desperately feeling her skin beneath his hands.

She began tugging at the shirt covering his frame. He pulled back, taking a hold of the end of his shirt and tossing it over his head. Their eyes connected again as Jack had a small smile on his lips. She stumbled back as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She took a deep breath.

He stood in front of her, taking a hold of his jeans. He pulled them from his frame. After a second of thought he tugged his boxers from his frame. His body tensed as the cold air hit his overheating skin. 

Pulling her lips back, her gaze scanned his frame. Her entire body erupting in goosebumps watching him drag his hand up and down his shaft, a muffled groan fell from his lips before he looked back up towards her. 

All of the blood in her body felt like it rushed to her head. Y/N sat down on the edge of the bed. He smirked as she slowly laid on her back. Jack climbed on top of her, connecting their lips desperately. He ran his hand along her cheek as he lowered his hand, taking a delicate hold of her neck. His thumb glided down the center of her neck as he pulled back. 

Her eyes flickered open as she was breathing heavily. Her hand glided through his hair, watching him look over her features. “Y/N ple–”

“Please don’t talk just…” she trailed off as she ran her thumb across the apple of his cheek. 

He stared down towards her hesitantly. Still, a thousand things on the tip of his tongue. He took a sudden breath as she pushed him back. He rolled onto his back as she instantly climbed onto his lap. Jack’s eyes widened as looked over her frame as if it was for the first time.

She pulled all of her hair over her shoulder as she leaned down and kissed him slowly. His hands ran along her back, toying with the clasp of her bra. She grinded against his lap, slowly teasingly. He thrusted up into her, desperate for some release. She smirked against his lips while she ran her hand along his chest. He unclasped it watching her tug it away from her frame. 

Time seemed to slow as their lips remained connected as his hands roamed her frame. Ther was no rush in their movements, savoring each kiss. Making up for lost time perhaps. Slowly she began to trail her lips down his neck. He tilted his head back, he bit his bottom lip as he held his breath. 

“Y/N,” he let out breathlessly. He squeezed her thigh as she continued to suck the skin beneath his ear. 

“Don’t talk,” she whispered into his ear as she ran her hand down his chest. He chuckled softly as he tilted his head to the side meeting her gaze. 

“Okay,” he mumbled as he tapped her leg, asking for her to lay down. 

“Your arm,” she mumbled while looking into his eyes.

“I’ve got skills, remember?” he mumbled while fighting off a grin. She rolled her eyes playfully as she climbed off of his lap and laid onto her back; the same time Jack rolled onto his side, pulling her against him. Their legs were entangled as their lips instantly connected.

He took a hold of her underwear, looping them in his finger as he slowly started gliding them down his frame. A breathy moan fell from her lips as she kicked them off of the bed. 

He reached down and instantly began to rub her clit in a slow teasing pace. Her hand gripped his arm. Instantly, she pulled back with a sudden gasp leaving his lips. He smirked towards her, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head. 

She was holding back a moan as she squinted her eyes shut. Slowly, he pushed his fingers inside of her, watching desire pool her features. Her hands took a hold of his cheeks, pulling him towards her. Their lips met in a sloppy cadence as she grinded against his fingers that were thrusting into her. 

Desire flooded her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging the strands. “Jack,” she mumbled against his lips as her vision blurred. He hummed against her lips as he pulled his fingers away from her center, her body running cold for a second. 

She wrapped her leg around his waist as he instantly guided himself to her center. Looking back up, meeting her gaze. He was mesmerized by the way she was looking towards him. So desperate and craving him. She ran her hand towards the base of his neck.

Slowly, he thrusted into her, a low moan falling from his lips. He took a hold of her thigh as he continued to thrust into her slowly, feeling her adjust to his size. Their eyes remained connected as he continued the sensual pace. 

She leaned towards him, taking her lips in his. She moaned into his mouth as his hand gripped her thigh tightly. “Fuck,” she muttered against his lips. He could feel her clenching around him, pulling his climax faster. 

It has been far too long since either of them have felt this good. There’s been rebounds. Probably too many to count shared between them but none of them felt this right and this perfect. She couldn’t even remember ever reaching this close to a climax since the last time they were together.

“Oh my god,” she whined out. He missed hearing that, he missed knowing he was the one making her feel like that.

The way their breathing were in perfect short cadences as their lips tried to maintain the desperate connection. But her body was flooding with desire, as her vision was blurring. Every few seconds, his lips would press a sloppy kiss to her lower lip as he grunted.

His thrust started to speed up in pace as a whimper fell from her lips, he nodded, “Good girl–doin’ so good,” he whispered. She let out a moan as she tilted her head back. He pressed his lips to the center of her neck. Her hands ran along his upper back. More muffled moans fell from her lips as she gave all of her to him.

“I’m so–”

A sudden gasp left her lips as her entire body tensed, an overwhelming amount of pleasure coursed through her frame. She dragged her nails across his upper back, “Jack,” she moaned out.

With one more thrust, he reached his own climax, short breaths fell from his lips as he released into her. “Fuck,” he let out barely above a whisper. He continued to ride out his own orgasm as he watched her eyes flutter open. Her hands glided along his upper back to take a hold of his neck.

Their eyes connected as he watched her gaze soften. Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips against hers sloppy. He pulled out as they both pulled back, falling onto their backs. They both laid breathlessly as they stared towards the ceiling. 

They didn’t talk for several seconds as the reality of what they did set in. She felt her heart jump in her throat as she sat up, swinging her legs off of the bed.  

Jack switched his gaze towards her, his eyes scanned her bare back watching her breathe heavily. She pulled open the bottom drawer, she quickly pulled out a t-shirt and shorts. 

“You know how amazing I am?” Jack let out as he leaned back on his arms. His tone was questioning but he had a wide grin on his lips. 

A breathy laugh fell from her lips as she pulled the t-shirt over her frame. “What?” she asked, a smirk toying to her lips as she stood up to pull the shorts up. 

“I got you to admit that you were trying to make me jealous,” he offered teasingly. She spun around looking towards him. Her mouth fell open as she shook her head slightly. 

“I wasn’t, I didn’t…” she stammered as she trailed her gaze down his frame. Jack whipped the comforter over his body as she raised her eyes back up towards his face. 

“Oh, well, you did,” he said as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. 

“I didn’t,” she said as she climbed back onto the bed, pulling the comforter over her. Their eyes connected again.

“Weren’t your exact words you don’t get to act all high and mighty acting like you weren’t doing the same thing–” he trailed off as he watched the realization dawn on her face, her teasing smirk faded on her lips. She squinted her eyes slightly, “And then I asked you what I was doing and you said–”

“Trying to make me jealous,” she finished his sentences as she tilted her head to the side. 

“Exactly,” he whispered as he pointed his finger towards her subtly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a hold of his hand. He chuckled as their eyes connected again. She took a deep breath as she scanned his features. 

Swallowing harshly, she dropped his hand. “You should probably go,” she mumbled as she began to lay down on the bed to face away from him.

He furrowed his eyebrows harshly, “What just happened?” he asked as he looked down towards her. 

“This doesn’t change anything,” she mumbled. 

A scoff fell from his lips, “Doesn’t it? I mean seriously, Y/N,” he expressed as he rested his hand onto her arm, pulling her back to face him. Their eyes met as she clenched her jaw. “It has to change something,”

He reached his hand over toward her, taking a hold of her cheek. Leaning into his hand, she shut her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this again,” she mumbled.

“Then let’s do something else,” he muttered as he ran his thumb across her hot skin. 

“Do what, Jack? If you mean–that, I don’t know if I can, I'm so tired,” she explained as a soft laugh left her lips.

“No, not that,” he chuckled as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “I mean let’s try being friends again,” he mumbled against her lips, “Exclusive friends,”

She pulled away, tilting her head to the side. She stared towards him suspiciously for a second, “We tried that, we didn’t talk for a year afterwards,” 

He giggled, “I mean, we work towards something serious,” he offered as he scanned her features again.

“Jack,” she wasn’t sure, she was still tipsy and not thinking straight.

“Think about it,” he mumbled before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Jack,”

“Think about it,” he mumbled againsat her lips again, a small breathy laugh leaving her lips before she deepened the kiss again.

~~~

Cole and Trevor stood side by side, mugs in both of their hands. They were trying to see who Y/N brought him. Whoever the mystery guy was hadn’t left yet, sleeping in astronomically late. 

Well for their house’s standards. It was nine in the morning and usually the whole house would be awake, especially Y/N.

“She’s still in there, are you sure she didn’t kick him out and leave?” Cole whispered loudly as he leaned into Trevor.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I was sure,” Trevor shot back in a hushed tone.

“Has she since–” he trailed off as he met Trevor’s gaze. 

“Yeah she’s had her rebounds,” Trevor mumbled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “It’s been a few months though,” he mumbled.

Cole cleared his throat before he brought the mug towards his lips. He took a long sip, “Is she okay? I feel like I should knock,” Cole whispered.

“If he was a creep then she would’ve told us,” Trevor mumbled before bringing his own mug towards his lips.

“She didn’t bring anyone home,” Quinn called out as he stood near the entrance to the hallway. Cole and Trevor both turned their eyes towards Quinn at the same time.

“What?” they whispered loudly.

“She only told you that because you were getting on her about ‘moving on’,” Quinn said with air quotes. 

“Well then who’s shoes are those?” he asked, pointing down towards the messily laid out shoes.

“Who’s–what?” Quinn let out as he took fast steps towards them. 

Suddenly, her door pulled open and a shirtless Jack was holding the door open. A gasp left all three of their lips. Quinn raised his hand up and held his hand against his chest. 

“Their mine,” Jack said before clearing his throat. “‘Scuse me,” he said as he stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Cole and Trevor pulled away from one another. They shared awkward glances as they watched Jack walk towards his bedroom, stepping inside. 

They all tried to form sentences but the shock of seeing Jack inside of her room was enough to keep them all frozen with confusion. “He left his shoes,” Cole muttered as he looked down towards them still by the door. 

Suddenly, her door was pushed open, her eyes widened to see the three boys standing outside of her door. “Creepy, all of you,” she mumbled as she pointed an accusatory finger to each of them. “Excuse me,” she muttered as she squeezed past them carrying her clothes. 

“We thought you had a stranger in there! We wanted to be sure you were alive!” Cole defended, “It’s not creepy! It’s caring!”

“God, I should’ve gone to the gym with Lukey,” Quinn said, shaking his head as he walked back into the living room. Cole and Trevor were muttering to one another in the center of the hallway. “Leave them alone,” Quinn called out as he walked towards the kitchen. 

“But–”

“Leave them alone! They’ll tell us when they’re ready!” Quinn called out. 

“They practically already did!” Cole protested.

“Leave them alone!” Quinn scolded them again. The pair let out defeated breaths as they stumbled out of the hallway.

For the next hour, the three of them were talking, more like gossiping about Jack and Y/N. Trying to find puzzle pieces from last summer and the slim information of the last twenty hours. Trevor was trying to convince Quinn and Cole that it was actually happening since the moment they both set foot into the house. 

Y/N sat at her vanity, running her fingers through her wet hair. She could hear the faint sounds of all of them arguing over her and Jack through the walls. Her face was covered in moisture as she was doing her post-clubbing routine. It was an everything shower that rejuvenated herself from the events of the night before.

There was a soft knock on her door as her body straightened. “Come in,” she mumbled. She spun her head around to see Jack walk into her room. His hair was dripping wet as his frame was covered with tight jeans and t-shirt. “Hey,” she let out quietly, a small smile formed on her lips.

He leaned against the door, pressing his back against it as. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I got scared,” he muttered. She stood up from the vanity seat as she kept her distance from him.

He swallowed harshly as he dropped his gaze towards the floor, “When you asked for a reason, I didn’t know how to tell you I was falling in love with you,”

“Jack,” she mumbled.

“I was falling in love with you and all I could see was you running away with one of my best friends,” 

“I wasn’t–”

“I know, but I was so convinced that you were running far away from me,” he let out softly as he watched her walk towards him. “But I realized last night that I was pushing you away,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. She was still making her way towards him slowly, he was not aware of how close she was getting to him.

“I get jealous so easily but I think it’s because you were never really mine,” he explained further as he dropped his hands to the side. She nodded as she walked closer to him, “I got a taste of it last summer and I let you go. I shouldn’t have let you go. I’m sorry,” he let out, tossing his arms to the side.

“Jack,” she mumbled as she was directly in front of him. He swallowed harshly as he scanned her features. His breathing quickened as he watched her lips curl upward slightly. 

“Did you say you were falling in love with me?” she let out barely above a whisper. He hummed as his gaze lowered towards her lips. “Fucking finally,” she said as she leaped towards him, careful of his shoulder as she pressed her lips against his urgently.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she mumbled against his lips.

[jikookncity]

HockeyPlayer!Mark x Tutor!Reader

WC. 3.4k, mainly fluff, one vanilla smut scene, lots of cute kisses, hand holding, etc.

Mark Lee was a lot of things — captain of the university hockey team, wildly popular, infamously late to class, and currently staring at his failing calculus midterm like it personally insulted him.

“Mark,” Professor Kim sighed as he flipped through Mark’s paper, eyebrows furrowing. “You're the captain. You lose eligibility, and you're off the ice.”

“I know,” Mark mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying, I swear.”

“You need help. And I know just the person,” Professor Kim said, sliding a post-it with a name and number across the desk. “Y/N L/N. She’s top of every class, especially math. And kind enough to help students who are willing to try.”

Mark stared at the name. He recognized it — who didn’t? Y/N was always at the front of the lecture hall, answering questions no one else dared raise their hand for, notebook meticulously organized, and seemingly unaware of the way every professor lit up when she spoke. She was brilliant… and way out of his league.

Still, Mark was nothing if not hopeful — and desperate.

First Lesson

When he met her at the library that Friday, she was already seated, books open, highlighter in hand. She looked up when he approached, offering a polite smile.

“You’re Mark, right?” she asked.

He nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of how sweaty his palms were. “Yeah, uh, thanks for doing this. I’m kind of... hopeless.”

“You’re not hopeless,” she said kindly, patting the seat beside her. “Just a little behind. We can fix that.”

She made math feel… less like a nightmare. She didn’t laugh when he messed up or scold him when he forgot basic formulas. She explained things patiently, her voice calm and soothing, and Mark found himself nodding along not just because he understood, but because he liked hearing her talk.

By the second session, Mark wasn’t just showing up on time — he was early. By the third, he was bringing her coffee. By the fourth, he was falling, hard.

He liked the way her eyes lit up when she solved a particularly difficult problem. The way she scrunched her nose when concentrating. The way she’d smile softly when he finally got an answer right.

She was smart — ridiculously smart — and kind, and funny without even trying. And she didn’t treat him like some dumb jock. She treated him like he mattered.

Finally...

“Hey,” Mark said at the end of one of their tutoring sessions, nervously bouncing his leg. “I, uh… I was wondering…”

Y/N looked up, pen between her fingers. “Yeah?”

“You’ve helped me so much,” he began, “so I thought maybe I could… teach you something?”

Her brows lifted in curiosity. “Like what?”

Mark smiled, heart pounding. “Ice skating. You ever been?”

She laughed softly. “Not since I was ten. I was horrible.”

“Perfect,” he said, grinning. “Then I’ll be the smart one for once.”

They met at the rink on Saturday night, the place quiet except for the occasional hum of the overhead lights and the distant echo of their laughter. Mark laced up her skates for her, fingers brushing her ankle. Y/N felt the flutter in her stomach but said nothing.

He helped her step onto the ice, holding her hands in his as she wobbled.

“You got this,” he said, squeezing gently. “Just trust me.”

She nodded, clinging to him tightly as they took slow, careful steps across the rink. He didn’t let go. Not even when she fell — twice — right into his arms.

By the time they were gliding, somewhat steadily, she was laughing, cheeks pink from the cold and proximity.

“See? You’re doing amazing,” he said, slowing them to a stop in the middle of the rink. His hands lingered at her waist.

“You’re a good teacher,” she said softly, eyes meeting his.

They were close — breath-clouds mingling in the cold air, hands still holding one another, hearts beating just a little too fast. Mark’s gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes.

He swallowed hard. “Can I… take you out? For real this time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

Official Date Night

The campus festival was in full swing — the grassy courtyard transformed with rows of colorful stalls, string lights twinkling between trees, and the air filled with laughter, sizzling food, and indie music playing from the main stage. Mark adjusted his denim jacket as he looked around, heart racing faster than when he was skating full speed toward a goal.

He spotted her immediately, waiting near the lantern display, wearing a soft sweater and jeans, hair pinned back. She turned at the sound of his footsteps and gave him the kind of smile that made his stomach twist in the best way.

“You made it,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Mark smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

They walked side by side, weaving through the crowds, stopping at booths for games and snacks. She won them both matching cat ear headbands at a ring toss booth — “for team spirit,” she claimed, laughing as he pulled his on with mock pride. Mark was a little obsessed with the way she looked when she laughed — completely carefree, eyes shining.

When they reached the food stalls, Mark bought them a double scoop of cookies and cream in a waffle cone.

“For the best tutor-slash-skater I know,” he said as he handed it to her.

“Sharing?” she teased, offering the first bite to him.

He leaned in and took it, their eyes locked the whole time. His heart was thudding. He wiped a bit of cream from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and swore she blushed.

As the sky dimmed into evening and fairy lights flickered to life overhead, they strolled beneath the glowing trees. Music floated through the air — couples were dancing near the stage, but Mark felt too nervous to ask.

Instead, he glanced down at their hands. He’d been thinking about holding hers since the start of the night, but now his palms were clammy and his brain was short-circuiting.

Do it. Just do it.

He took a breath and slowly reached out, his pinky brushing hers. She looked at him, confused for a second, then smiled so sweetly it knocked the air from his lungs — and gently linked her fingers with his.

Warm. Soft. Perfect.

He looked down at their hands like he couldn’t believe it, then up at her face, flushed pink. She was looking ahead, but her smile hadn’t left. Mark’s grin was unstoppable.

They walked hand-in-hand for the rest of the night, sharing ice cream, shy glances, and quiet giggles.

Later that night, Mark flopped onto the couch in the shared apartment he rented with a few of his hockey teammates. His head was still spinning from the festival — from the way her fingers had laced with his like they were meant to be there.

Johnny looked up from the video game he was playing, pausing mid-round.

“So… you finally held her hand?” he asked, grinning like he already knew.

Mark blinked. “How did you—?”

“Dude. You’ve been talking about this girl for a month. We’re not blind.” Johnny tossed him a bottle of water. “Did you kiss her?”

Mark blushed instantly. “No.”

“No?!” Jaemin leaned out from the kitchen. “Bro, you bought her ice cream, held her hand, she wore the cat ears — what more do you need?!”

“I just…” Mark sighed. “I didn’t want to rush her. I didn’t know if she was ready.”

Johnny leaned back on the couch and studied him. “You really like her, huh?”

Mark nodded slowly. “She’s… different. Not just hot — like, obviously she’s beautiful — but she’s smart, and kind, and she listens. She makes me wanna be better. She actually sees me.”

Johnny smiled. “Then tell her. But not with words. You’ve got all the signs, Mark — she’s into you. You held her hand, shared a cone, walked under lights like a cheesy rom-com. You think she’s doing all that for her health?”

Mark laughed, rubbing his face. “I just don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You won’t. Just be you. Next time you’re with her — go for it. Kiss her like it’s the last ten seconds of overtime.”

Their tutoring session took place off campus for the first time — tucked into a quiet corner of a small café downtown, the kind with mismatched mugs, indie music playing softly, and the scent of espresso lingering in the air.

Y/N sat across from Mark with her laptop open and a half-eaten croissant between them. He was trying very hard to focus on integrals, but it was difficult when she kept smiling at him every time he got one right. She looked cozy in an oversized cardigan, her hair loosely tied back, cheeks flushed from the autumn chill outside.

“You’re actually improving,” she said, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “I’m impressed.”

Mark grinned, pen spinning between his fingers. “Are you saying I’m smarter than I look?”

“I’m saying you’re not hopeless. Which is saying a lot,” she teased, nudging his foot under the table.

He nudged back, heart skipping.

Outside, the sky had gone from gray to pouring. Rain streaked the windows in thick lines, softening the glow of the café lights and making the world feel smaller — like it was just the two of them, tucked into a perfect little bubble.

“You don’t have an umbrella, do you?” Mark asked as they packed up.

She glanced out at the storm. “Nope.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “Now I get to drive you home.”

The inside of Mark’s car was warm, the heater humming low. Raindrops drummed steadily against the roof as he pulled up in front of her apartment building, headlights casting a glow over the wet sidewalk.

Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, but didn’t reach for the door yet. Her fingers played with the sleeve of her sweater, lips parted like she was thinking hard.

Mark looked over at her, unsure if he should say something. His heart was pounding — not from nerves this time, but anticipation. Hope.

And then she turned to him.

Her voice was soft, but steady. “You’re really not gonna kiss me?”

Mark’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard — and then he laughed, almost breathless.

“You’ve been waiting for me to?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

She smiled, a touch shy now, but playful. “Obviously.”

Mark didn’t hesitate after that. He leaned in slowly, watching her eyes flutter closed, and then kissed her — gentle at first, their lips brushing in a soft, unspoken promise. She sighed into it, one hand resting lightly on his cheek, pulling him closer.

The second kiss was deeper, slower — like they were finally speaking a language they’d both been trying to understand for weeks. His hand slipped behind her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, her lips warm and sweet against his.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, she didn’t move away. Her forehead rested against his, rain still tapping on the windows like background music.

“About time,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

Mark chuckled, his heart completely full. “You’ll come to my game tomorrow, right?”

She nodded immediately, eyes still closed. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Game day

The rink was electric — packed bleachers, pounding music, the sharp scrape of blades against ice. But Mark wasn’t thinking about the crowd, the rival team, or even the scouts rumored to be watching.

He was thinking about her.

Y/N, wrapped in his oversized team hoodie, sitting dead center in the front row. She stood out in the sea of faces like a spotlight. Her hands were wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate, but her eyes — warm, steady, glowing — never left him.

The first time he scored, he didn’t even celebrate with his teammates. He just looked right at her through the plexiglass, grinning, and pointed his stick her way.

The second time, he actually skated past the bench to tap the glass in front of her, chest heaving, sweat curling at his neck. The crowd caught on, cheers turning to teasing laughter. Mark didn’t care.

Even the announcer chuckled into the mic: “And that goal’s clearly for someone special in the stands…”

By the third goal, Jaemin was elbowing him mid-shift. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” Mark just laughed. “I don’t care.”

The locker room was humid and noisy, echoing with high-fives and victory shouts. Mark tugged off his gear quickly, hair damp, adrenaline still riding high. His thoughts weren’t on the scoreboard — they were on Y/N waiting just outside.

When he opened the locker room door and saw her standing there, still in his hoodie, cheeks pink, he smiled like an idiot.

“You were insane tonight,” she said, walking up to him, barely waiting before throwing her arms around his neck. “Everyone was talking about how you kept looking at me.”

He grinned against her hair. “That’s ‘cause you’re my good luck charm.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back up. “You smell like sweat and victory,” she said with a grin, “and I still wanna kiss you.”

Mark didn’t need more of an invitation. He cupped her face and kissed her hard — all of the want, the buildup, the unspoken ache that had been simmering since the cafe, now spilling into the way his hands gripped her waist and pushed her gently against the locker wall.

She moaned softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging him closer.

It got hot fast — Mark’s hands exploring beneath the hoodie she wore, her hips arching toward his, her legs brushing his in a silent plea. Their kisses turned hungry, messy, desperate.

“Mark,” she whispered breathlessly, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I want you.”

He stilled, forehead pressed to hers, his chest rising and falling.

“God, I want you too,” he whispered, voice rough. “So bad.”

His thumb brushed her cheek, trying to calm both of them down. “But not here. Not like this.”

She blinked up at him, pouting. “Why not?”

He smiled softly, kissing her again — this time slower, reverent. “Because you deserve better than a locker room quickie after a sweaty game. I want our first time to be private. Comfortable. Just you and me. No interruptions.”

She groaned, leaning into his chest. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He chuckled, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I’m trying to be. For you.”

Mark had it all planned out.

The night after his game, he texted Y/N with an address and one simple message: “Wear something comfy. I’ve got us a night in.”

When she arrived, she found herself standing in front of a cozy little Airbnb cabin just outside the city. The windows glowed gold against the twilight, and soft music drifted out through the slightly open door.

Inside, everything was warm and thoughtful — blankets piled on the couch, a flickering candle on the coffee table, and Mark, in sweats and a fitted black tee, waiting with two mugs of hot chocolate and a nervous smile.

“I figured… no pressure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “But if you’re still sure, I wanted our first time to be… special.”

Y/N melted on the spot.

They started slow — curled up on the couch, sharing drinks and soft laughter. He played with her fingers absentmindedly while she leaned on his shoulder, and eventually, she turned to face him fully.

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

That’s all it took.

Mark set his mug down and kissed her — soft at first, lips just barely brushing, like he was still making sure she wanted this. Her fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and the kiss deepened. She sighed into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap, their mouths meeting again and again, more desperate each time.

“Tell me if anything’s too much,” he murmured against her lips, voice low and breathless.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

His hands moved reverently — slipping under her sweater to feel the warmth of her skin, fingertips trailing up her sides. She gasped softly as he kissed down her neck, her head tilting to give him more. He laid her back against the couch, hovering above her, drinking in the way she looked up at him: flushed, wanting, and so impossibly beautiful.

Clothes came off slowly — exchanged between kisses and soft laughter, with little whispered compliments between each layer. He looked at her like she was something sacred, worshiped every inch of skin he uncovered.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, thumb tracing her cheekbone. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She pulled him down into another kiss, hands roaming his chest and arms, feeling every inch of the strength he carried for his team — and now, for her.

When he finally sank into her, their hands clasped together tightly, foreheads pressed close, it was nothing like she’d ever felt before.

He moved slowly, deliberately, every stroke deep and warm, pulling soft sounds from her lips as her thighs locked around his waist.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, lips brushing her jaw. “So good, baby… I’ve wanted this for so long.��

She whimpered, nails digging lightly into his back, hips rising to meet his rhythm.

He kissed her through it all — messy and slow, breath mingling, fingers laced tightly between them as if he never wanted to let go.

And when they finally fell apart together, panting and flushed and tangled beneath the blankets, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Stay. Please.”

She smiled against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Official

It was a week after the night they spent together, and Mark hadn’t stopped smiling since.

They were officially in that hazy, floating stage of love where everything felt a little too good to be real — late-night phone calls, study breaks with forehead kisses, and walking her to class just because he could.

But one thing was still unfinished. He hadn’t asked her. Not properly.

So he waited until the next hockey practice ended and texted her to meet him just outside the rink.

When she arrived, he was still in his jersey and padded pants, hair messy and cheeks flushed from the cold. He was holding something behind his back, shifting nervously on his skates.

“Hey,” she greeted him, beaming.

He leaned in for a quick kiss — still never quite believing she was his to kiss now — then stepped back and cleared his throat.

“So… I’ve kind of been thinking about how you’ve already stolen my hoodies, my attention, and all my brain cells. I figure it’s time to make it official.”

She tilted her head, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

Mark pulled the item from behind his back.

It was one of his home-game jerseys — crisp white with navy accents, his number bold across the back. But what made her breath catch was the custom name stitched just above the number:

LEE.

He handed it to her, heart pounding. “Wear it to the next game? As my girlfriend?”

Y/N blinked down at the jersey, then up at him — and her whole face lit up.

“Mark,” she whispered, laughing through the sudden tears prickling in her eyes. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend. I thought you’d never ask.”

He exhaled hard, grinning, and pulled her into a tight hug — spinning her around before setting her down and kissing her breathless right there in the snow outside the rink.

Later That Night

Mark stepped back into the locker room still grinning like an idiot. The jersey was clutched in Y/N’s hands as she left, promising to wear it to the game and send him a mirror selfie first thing.

His teammates immediately noticed.

“Alright, Romeo,” Jaemin called from the bench, pulling off his skates. “You’re glowing. Spill it.”

Mark sat down with a dreamy sigh. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

The room erupted.

“About damn time!” “Yo, she said yes?!” “Wait, she’s gonna wear your jersey now?” “I swear, that’s more official than a wedding.”

Johnny clapped him on the back. “Proud of you, Captain. You got the girl and your math grade up. Full package.”

Mark just leaned back, towel around his neck, eyes still distant.

He’d never felt luckier — not for the game, the crowd, or the win… but for the girl who’d seen past all that, and wanted him.

Want more? Read with part 2 with more fluff/smut/drama on my Patreon as an early exclusive! Will Release on my Tumblr in a few weeks. Or if you'd like to give a lil tip, do so here!

[ange1heavensent]

━Steamy Shower Sex━

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, shower sex, making out, fingering (r! receiving), porn with plot

w/c ≈ 1270

Your body ached. You were cold and tired. You had just come back from a team patrol. It was late at night, therefore the hallways echoed with each step that you took. As much as you wanted to close your eyes and let your body fall into bed, you decided to make your way to the showers. The clothes on your body were stuck onto you, fully drenched from the Seattle downpour and mud had infused into the fabric from accidental falls during combat. The fluorescent light in the locker room was not kind to your eyes as you peeled off the soaked fabric off your body.

You stood in the shower, trying to submerge yourself in the warm water. The shower curtain that surrounds you helps to keep the warm steam close. The rest of the shower room was eerily quiet this time at night, the only thing that could be heard was the water droplets echoing as they hit the floor. That was until you heard the door to the attached locker room open and then slam shut, which startled you out from your tired haze. 

Someone stepped into the shower room, without announcing themselves. So, as you scrubbed your vanilla soap against your body, trying to get rid of the dirt from the patrol, you called out to the mystery person. “Hello?” after a beat the other person answered “it’s Abby,” you released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “Anderson, you scared the living shit out of me!” you proclaimed, as she stepped into the other shower beside you. A chuckle and a “sorry, Y/n” could be heard from the woman on the other side of the shower curtain. You wondered why she decided to shower beside you, guessing that maybe she felt conversational. Your guess was right as she asked “How are you holding up?” “I’m alright, a couple of bruises here and there, a quite gnarly one on my hip though.” You answered, before turning the question to her, “I’m good, not even a scratch,” she answered back. “Way to rub salt in the wound, Anderson,” you said out loud with a chuckle. Another apology was uttered by Abby before she asked “How bad is the bruise?” “You can take a look at it if you want,” you answered back. 

You didn’t think she would actually do it, but then the shower curtain moved and Abby’s naked figure took a small step inside. Your arms came up to cover your breasts and Abby tried to keep her wandering eyes at bay. You turned so your hip would face her, neither of you saying anything until Abby broke the silence with “Is it alright if I touch it?” You nodded your head, while humming out a consent. She reached her hand to your hip, carefully grazing it against your purple skin, unconsciously stepping closer to your body. You looked at her movements attentively, you couldn’t keep your eyes away from her, and why would you. 

Her body was drawn towards you, she seemed to inch closer and closer, then her hand started moving towards your lower back, wishing to press your body against hers. “Is this okay?” She whispered out, you whispered back a breathy “yes.” You were now fully pressed against her except for your arms still shielding your breasts. Abby gazed into your eyes, it seemed like she was looking for something, you didn’t know what, but underneath her soft gaze you felt a blush and a smile creep its way onto your face. That reaction might’ve been what Abby was looking for, because she started to slowly lean her head closer to yours. Then you felt her lips on yours, the kiss was soft and careful at first but grew to be more messy. Your arms slung around Abby’s neck, and the two of you were now fully pressed against one another. Abby felt your pebbled nipples pressed onto the skin of her chest, which turned her on even more.

Abby moved her head down to press kisses onto your neck, as her hands simultaneously moved to grab at your ass. You moaned into the steamy air, when Abby was lightly nipping at your neck, then decided to mirror her actions. Your head was buried in her neck, still smelling the scent of rain that lingered in her wet hair. Then you were moved around and your back was pressed into the cold white tiled wall, you shuddered. The two of you were dishevelled, both faces red from the shower steam, hair clinging to every surface and both had a growing need of pleasure. 

Abby’s hands had been roaming your body, until her left hand grabbed onto your right thigh moving it upwards to press it against her hip. Abby looked at you again, with that same look from before, you now knew what it was, she needed confirmation that you wanted the same thing as her. You looked at her face, it was flushed from the heat, expression just as soft. One of your hands came to move some wet hair from her face, as you gasped out “Abby, I want, need, you to-” She cut you off by capturing your lips in a kiss, moaning into your mouth, as her right hand which had been resting against your hip moved in between your legs. 

Her fingers brushed against the length of your pussy, collecting your wetness to rub her fingers against your clit. You moaned into her mouth, she parted her lips to whisper, “you’re so wet, baby.” “All for you, Abby” you said, before pressing your lips against hers yet again and Abby couldn’t help but to moan at your statement. She decided to move it along further by moving her fingers down and inserting two of them. Your fingers tensed, digging blunt fingernails into Abby’s shoulders. You gasped as she started to move her fingers, curling them slightly. The pace that she set was slow, it felt really good, but you got impatient and needed more. 

You started to grind and buck your hips against her hand, trying to signal to her to move faster while simultaneously, with a breathy moan uttering “please go faster, Abby,” and she did just that. Abby moved her fingers faster, while you grinded against the palm of her hand. It did not take long for you to build up to climax with her hand between your legs, her warm skin against yours, her moans and her encouragement for you to cum. Your body arched off the wall and your toes curled as the orgasm washed over you. Abby’s fingers moved as your hips bucked into them, but halted as you relaxed against her body. You were slightly leaning against her for support and soft praises were whispered from her lips.

She let go of your leg and you now had both feet on the floor, however you were still leaning against her body, enjoying the way she felt against you. Abby moved the two of you to the stream of water from the shower head above you, thankfully it was still warm. The two of you were basking in the warmth of the water but also in each other's presence. “You smell good,” Abby remarked as her head laid against your shoulder. You hummed, that giddy feeling spreading through your body, “It’s that vanilla soap” you said. She hummed, reaching for it on the shower shelf, “I like it” she said, as she lathered in her hands, then moving them against your body, washing you for the second time today.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[whitechocolate355]

time out

oneshot

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 2k

warnings - language

synopsis: after a heated argument during a scrimmage, Paige and Azzi are both benched for “unsportsmanlike behaviour.” Forced to sit in silence while their teammates play, the tension between them begins boils over — and neither of them can hold back what they really want to say (or do).

one shot request from a lovely anon!! getting around to everyone’s requests so bear w/ me… also chap 5 for full court press will be uploaded tmr morning

The gym was blisteringly loud. Sneakers screeched. Whistles pierced. Coaches yelled in a flurry of clipped commands and clipboard slaps.

And Paige was about two seconds from completely losing her shit.

“I SAID SWITCH!” she yelled, throwing her arms up as Azzi jogged past her, completely ignoring the rotation.

Azzi didn’t even spare her a glance. Just caught the rebound like it was hers by divine right and launched the ball effortlessly into the net.

Swish.

Paige’s blood boiled. “You’re seriously not gonna talk to me now?”

Azzi brushed past her again, the faint scent of musky vanilla clinging to her skin, her face stoic, as if carved in stone. “I didn’t realise I had anything left to say.”

“Oh, cut the cold act,” Paige hissed, stepping into her space. “You’re playing selfish. This is a team scrimmage, not your personal Steph Curry highlight reel.”

Azzi stopped. Turned. Her hair whipping around like a blade.

“You want to talk about selfish?” she snapped. “Maybe look in a mirror before you start throwing around words you don’t understand.”

And that was it. All it took. Paige shoved her shoulder into Azzi’s, and Azzi shoved right back.

“HEY!” Coach blew the whistle like it was a goddamn siren. “You two—BENCH. NOW. You wanna act like children? You’ll sit like them too.”

Paige stormed to the bench, jaw clenched, heart clawing at her ribs. Azzi followed, expression unreadable.

But this had been building for weeks.

Paige could feel it in the way Azzi always passed to someone else when she was open. In the glances they shared that lingered too long. In the breathless moments after every scrimmage where she half expected Azzi to say something—anything—that might make sense of the way her heart pounded after every brush of their hands.

And now, with them both benched and pissed and sitting shoulder to shoulder, Paige couldn’t take it anymore.

They sat on opposite ends of the same metal seat, separated by maybe three feet and about a mile of heat.

The game continued. Shouts echoed. The scoreboard buzzed. But in their corner, time held its breath.

Paige bounced her knee. She could feel Azzi’s presence like a gravity field.

Neither of them spoke.

Not until the fourth whistle of the quarter blew and the gym momentarily dulled into ambient chatter.

"You always do this," she muttered without turning her head.

Azzi’s brow ticked. “Do what?”

“You push until I snap, and then you act like I’m the problem.”

Azzi finally turned to face her, eyes sharp. “Maybe you are.”

Paige laughed bitterly. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“Right back at you.”

Their teammates were across the court, deep in the scrimmage, too far to hear. Too far to care. Paige felt something inside her break loose—something reckless.

“You don’t have to hate me, you know.”

Azzi’s expression flickered. “I don’t hate you.”

“No?” Paige turned now, fully. “Then what is this, Azzi? Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, it turns into a fight?”

Azzi exhaled slowly, then said, “Because if I don’t fight you, Paige, I might actually—”

But she didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. Paige felt the unspoken words hang in the air between them like a thread about to snap.

Might actually what?

Their breath tangled somewhere in the air between them. The game raged on, but the court felt impossibly small now, the air between them thick with tension.

Flashback: The First Game

The first time Paige had seen Azzi play, it was more than just basketball. That girl was a display of effortless grace, precision, and an undeniable swagger that drew Paige’s eye from the beginning. 

They had met at a youth basketball camp, and Paige hadn’t been able to forget the way Azzi dominated the court, effortlessly gliding from one play to the next. Paige had never felt the need to be jealous, or scared for her spot on the team. But for the very first time, she was. And the culprit: Azzi fucking Fudd. It wasn’t just the way she played—it was the way she carried herself. Confidence radiated from her every movement. It pissed Paige off.

But at the same time, she was drawn to it. The two were the first off the court. 

Azzi wasn’t like anyone Paige had met before, which made her feel unsettled. It was as if she could read Paige’s movements, and every one of her thoughts because before Azzi even knew where she was, Paige had kicked it to her in the corner in one, smooth movement. And unlike her other previous teammates that would’ve just fumbled the ball in surprise, Azzi caught it mid-pass with ease — as if she intercepted her own ball — to fire the quickest release the crowd had ever seen. And with that, Paige held her fingers out in celebration, because as soon as that ball graced Azzi’s hands, Paige knew that shot was cash. 

—-----------

“I don’t get you,” Paige growled, slamming her water bottle to the ground. “You show up like you’ve got nothing to prove, and then you play like your whole damn career depends on it. What is it? What do you need to prove?”

Azzi took a breath, her face a mask of calm, but Paige could see the tension in her jaw, the way her muscles were coiled, ready to spring.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Azzi said, her voice lower than usual, laced with frustration. “Not everything is about what you want, Paige.”

“Then stop pretending like you’ve got it all figured out!” Paige shot back, her voice trembling with anger and something else she didn’t want to acknowledge. “It’s like I can’t even look at you without feeling like you’re hiding something.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered, just for a second, like she was about to say something but thought better of it. The silence that followed stretched out between them, thick with unsaid words.

They were sitting inches apart. But emotionally? Miles.

Azzi finally turned toward her, eyes softer now. “You think I’m hiding something? Paige, you have no idea.”

Paige swallowed, heat rising in her chest. Her heart beat erratically in her ears.

“Oh, I think I know,” she said, voice low and dangerously soft. “You don’t let anyone close. You keep everyone at arm’s length. But I’m done with that. If you’re hiding something, then I want to know. Because I’m not gonna keep playing this game with you.”

Azzi stood up suddenly, the motion sharp and filled with frustration. “I’m not hiding anything,” she said, her voice a growl. “I’m not the one here pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. I’m the one who shows up every single day, working my ass off, and all you can do is act like I’m the problem.”

Paige stood up too, the two of them facing each other, inches apart. “Maybe I’m not pretending,” she shot back, her voice hard, eyes burning with a fire she couldn’t suppress anymore. “Maybe I’m tired of you acting like I’m just another player you can push around. I’m done with that, Azzi.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, and for a second, Paige thought she saw something flicker in her eyes. But before she could analyze it further, Azzi was stepping back. Her hand went to the back of her neck, rubbing the tension there.

“I think we both need a timeout,” Azzi muttered, more to herself than to Paige.

“Yeah, we do.” Paige replied under her breath.

.

.

.

Benched and bitter and burning from the inside out, Paige knew she needed to get away. Before she did something she shouldn't do. Watching Azzi glance over at her every so often as their chests rose and fell in sync with each other was driving her crazy. And before she could stop her thoughts, Paige stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Azzi asked.

“Out back. Before I say something I can’t take back.”

Azzi hesitated, then stood too, following closely behind. “Say it.”

Paige turned, inches away from the gym door. “What?”

Azzi stepped in, closer now than she had any right to be. “Say what you want to say. I’m right here. And besides, I’m done following you.”

“Fine.” Paige grunted. It was time to get real. The blonde couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t get you,” she began. “One second you’re giving me eyes like you wanna ruin me, and the next you’re pretending I don’t exist. What the hell is your game, Azzi?”

Fuck. Did she really just air herself out to Azzi?

Azzi stepped toward her slowly, closing the distance. Her eyes were dark, unreadable, but there was something else there too—something raw.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Azzi said, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t a game. You think you know me, Paige. You think you understand me. But you don’t. You’ve only seen the parts of me I’ve allowed you to.”

Azzi stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending.”

And just like that, Paige couldn’t take it anymore. 

Grabbing onto Azzi’s jersey, she pulled her into her chest —not hard, not violent, just… desperate, while her free hand pushed the door back. 

[Outside]

Azzi’s breath caught as Paige leaned in. It was slow at first, hesitant, like a dare. Azzi’s heart pounded in her chest, and before she could stop herself, she was leaning into Paige too, their mouths meeting in a frantic collision of teeth and heat.

Paige slammed her palm against the building wall, caging Azzi between her broad shoulders all while forbidding herself to tear away from Azzi’s lips. Her fingers curled around the metal grate, trying to stay grounded — as if this moment wasn’t what she was fantasising about since she met Azzi. 

It was a kiss that held everything—frustration, longing, pain. All the words neither of them had said but both of them had wanted to for so long. There were no zone defences anymore. No hesitation. Just the messy, overwhelming need to feel something, anything, between them.

Azzi’s hands slid to Paige’s back, pulling her closer. Paige’s hands found the hem of Azzi’s shirt, fingers pressing against the soft skin there, memorizing the feel of her. The kiss deepened, becoming frantic, like they were trying to devour each other whole.

Why the hell did she look at Paige like that when we first met?

Why does she keep pushing Paige on the court, then staring at Paige like she’s hers?

Why does this feel better than any win?

Paige shot away her thoughts with her mouth, biting softly on Azzi’s bottom lip, as if that was where she held the answers. Azzi pressed against the wall as Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, her muscles tensing —which sent a jolting sensation to Azzi’s spine.  Paige’s hands gripped the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer.

Azzi gasped into her mouth, and Paige took that gasp like a win, like a possession. She leaned back, admiring her view with a smug smirk on her face —as if she had manifested this moment— before she tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her body flush against Azzi’s now — muscle to muscle, sweat to sweat.

Azzi moaned before she could stop herself…

And Paige kissed her harder for it.

They didn’t pull away. They couldn’t. Not until a water bottle dropped somewhere in the locker room, echoing just loud enough to remind them where they were.

Paige’s hands were still bunched in Azzi’s jersey. Azzi’s fingers were threaded through Paige’s hair.

Neither of them moved. Their foreheads touched.

Paige’s voice was hoarse. “I hate you.”

Azzi’s breath fanned her lips. “No, you don’t.”

Silence.

Then Azzi kissed her again — slower this time. Like a statement. Like a fuck-you and a promise in one.

The buzzer rang again. Timeout was over.

They pulled apart, barely. Lips swollen. Chests rising and falling.

Paige glanced down, cheeks red but jaw still set. “We have five minutes.”

Azzi smirked, voice low. “Then you better move fast...”, leading her to the locker room by the jersey.

[softtdaisy]

_____confessions cookies

pairing. Aaron Hotchner x media liaison!reader (part of the dating game)

summary. after your conversation, Aaron needs answers: would you consider him, your boss, to start your dating game?

words count. 2 308

a/n. thank you everyone for the nice feedback on the first part, I'm so happy you enjoy this series as much as I do!! I promise the dates are starting in the next part 👀

___the dating game masterlist | criminal minds masterlist

Aaron had a problem. You.

Well, not you. But the fact you had been on his mind non-stop these past days.

“Can you just imagine how much easier it would be if we could just discover the dating world again with someone we know? Someone we trust?” 

He had learned to know these 26 words by heart. The intonation, the way you paused after your first question. The little sigh at the end, like you had been desperately trying to say these things for so long. How you sounded like you believed no one could understand your feelings.

But that wasn’t the worst part, no.

The worst part was that he felt like you didn’t care as much as he did. He felt like you didn’t care at all.

When you came back to the office on Monday, you greeted him with a very professional “Hotch.” 

The team knew you used a different tone for each one of them. You sounded protective with Spencer and in a constant private joke with Emily. 

As for Aaron, there was always this sweet and encouraging smile, telling him you would have his back no matter what. And if he could taste your tone when you said his name, Aaron would notice some vanilla hint: a safe bet, sure, but something reassuring. That was how he liked to picture it. Maybe it was indeed reassuring that nothing had changed after your conversation. You still treated him as your chief with the same kind attitude. He could count on you, even with you being two desperate lost souls. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what could have happened if you had five more minutes. Just five more minutes to end this conversation and not be left disappointed.

So now a whole week had passed, a case had been resolved, and Aaron needed answers.

Everyone had left the office except for the two of you. No surprise that this was happening very often. With the number of new files and case requests piling up every day on your desks, you could probably build a new wall. 

Needless to say, your personal life also had something to do with that. You had no one to go home to. And if Aaron was being honest, sometimes his guilt was taking over, and he couldn’t find the strength to go home early and face a disappointed Jack. Even if his son, being the angel he was, would never say anything about that.

“You should really take a break,” you heard him say when he walked in your office. 

You were so focused on your last case file that you didn’t even hear the knocks on the door. You’d like to think he maybe didn’t even knock. Your office was just a kind of extension of his, and you kept telling Aaron that he could walk in as much as he wanted. You loved to say you could always feel him coming.

The truth was that you could usually see him, from the shadow through your window to the fact the door was right in front of you.

The other truth was that, indeed, you felt like you had some kind of sixth sense letting you know when he was near you.

The final truth was that in case you missed Aaron’s presence, Blossom couldn’t. Even if right now, your dog was more interested in the little treat you gave her and didn’t move from her bed.

“You, Aaron Hotchner, are the one saying that?” You laughed, lifting your head up to watch him. “That’s a bit hypocritical.” 

More than once tonight, you considered leaving and coming back earlier tomorrow morning to finish your work. But just for the simple view of the lazy smile growing on Aaron’s face, the one he had when he got so tired he couldn’t control his facial expression nor had the strength to give a proper smile, staying late was worth it. 

You had barely seen him today. The days after the team came back from a case were always full of paperwork, and you didn’t even leave your office to eat lunch. Not even when the girls took turns to convince you to take a break and instead took Blossom with them.

You really wanted to get up, leave your office for a few minutes, and forget about the atrocity you were reading. But some other people couldn’t take a break, and their pictures were lying on your desk. So no, your propriety truly wasn’t your appetite. 

However, was it weird that seeing your chief right now was lifting a weight off your mind?

“At least I ate today.”

“Who are you?” you replied in a fake shocked tone, watching as he walked to your desk and sat in front of you. 

Yes, hearing his short and spontaneous giggle definitely made the whole staying late worth it. 

“I thought you might need some of these,” he said, finding just enough space on your desk to put down the plate he had been carrying.

One of the agents had brought some cakes and cookies from their child’s birthday. Aaron knew what it was to see the big picture, to compensate for their absence and make sure their children aren’t mad at them. Turns out, at the end, it was the Bureau who could enjoy all the leftovers.

And he was making sure that you got your daily sugar dose too.

“Don’t be too nice to me, Aaron, or I could cry,” you laughed, taking a cookie in hand before biting into it. 

You couldn’t care less about the little moan that escaped your lips when you felt the sugar melt in your mouth. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine a little paradise, peacefully away from the FBI. You clearly needed this more than you thought. 

Blossom was quick at jumping off her bed after hearing you. She ran and tried to charm you into giving her a piece of cookie too. She was absolutely not interested in the caress you gave her in exchange and even granted you a judgmental look. One that you didn’t even bother noticing. 

You were so focused on your own pleasure that you didn’t think Aaron could hear too. Or noticed the little change in his posture. How he moved his thighs on the chair, clearly not as comfortable as he was a few seconds ago. Or how he played with his tie to keep his hands occupied on something else. Something that wasn’t, well…you.

Not even Blossom was nice enough to help him, going back to her bed in a lazy and disappointing walk. 

He cleared his throat, looking for his composure back. “You deserve some kindness,” he then said.

You tilted your head to the side and pouted slightly. The simple thought of someone thinking about your own good was touching. And not only was it a man, it was your boss. More than your boss, it was Aaron. That was more than what your heart could handle at 8 p.m. on a Friday night. 

You grabbed another cookie from the plate and handed it to him. “Have some too.”

Aaron looked at it and considered refusing your offer. He already ate some earlier, and the ones he picked were for you, not him. But the sweet look in your eyes made him think that you could actually cry if he said no. 

He chose the safe option and took it from your hand. His fingers brushed yours softly, and he let that moment last longer than he should have.

The view of the two of you sharing cookies in your little office made you laugh. “This is, like, the closest to a date I’ve been to in months.” 

This was enough to remind Aaron why he was there in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night.”

Your eyes grew big at the sudden thought that you might have said something controversial or problematic. You remembered the conversation—or at least you thought so. Did you say anything inappropriate to your chief? You sure had inappropriate thoughts in the past—and I, in a not-so-far-away past—but you were secretly praying none of them escaped your mouth.

To be honest, even now, totally sober, you weren't 100% sure you could trust your mouth. It wasn’t your fault his rolled-up sleeves made his arms and his veins so visible you were dying to look at them. 

Thankfully, Aaron was quick at putting a hand on your arm to stop your overwhelming thoughts. 

“About wanting to start dating again with someone you know and ttrust, he completed in such a serious tone you could forget the context of the conversation in the first place.

Your lips formed an O for a few seconds before you replied with a soft laugh: “Yep, sounds like something I said.” 

It didn’t sound like something you said. You said that, and you knew it. 

You knew it just because your brain made sure to perfectly memorize Aaron’s face when he heard those words. His confused but also relieved expression, telling you he had been working hard to express his own feelings. But also the expression when he asked if you had someone in mind. Like it was a need for him to know. Like a part of him expected an answer you weren’t sure you were allowed to give.

“I still mean it,” you said. “I still think this could be a good solution. The whole thing now is…”

“Finding that person.” Aaron completed it, and you simply nodded.

And soon the room fell into silence again.

If you were in a movie, you would yell at the characters to speak the obvious. Because it was obvious to both of you.

How Aaron, as your chief, didn’t feel like he had any right to speak his mind and feared being accused of harassment—even though he trusted you enough to not do it. 

How you, as his agent, were scared you might lose the job of your dream for a fantasy—even though you trusted him enough to not fire you for this.

But how you both had the same idea in mind.

“Do you think…” Aaron started.

But you spoke at the time. “...Want to do it?”

Another silence. Then a shared laugh that lightened up the mood.

“This would stay between us?”

You could tell how important it was for him. The low voice he used, like he was sharing some secret. Like a child asking for something he shouldn’t be. Like a part of him still wasn't sure this was the right thing. 

It was easy to start it; it would be harder to face the consequences if anything went wrong. And the list of possible consequences was already long enough in his head. 

Starting from professional procedure for going on dates with a member of his team to potential unsub taking advantages of this. To broken hearts. Yes, broken hearts were the worst scenario, even for Aaron Hotchner.

“I didn’t plan on adding a new slide on my case presentation about this, no,” you replied, taking another cookie from the plate. 

Your sarcastic remark kind of worked when he rolled his eyes and let out an amused sigh. But this wasn’t enough.

“The only person aware of this is Blossom right here,” you said, pointing to your dog. Blossom, who apparently couldn’t care less about whatever you were talking about. But still got up from her bed and walked to Aaron.

Either she was still mad at you for not giving her any treat, or she finally noticed Aaron’s presence. In any way, it didn’t take her long to jump on his lap and get some new caresses.

You found it funny how she had a very different relationship with the members of this team, especially the men of this team. She knew she could easily get treats from Spencer, who couldn't resist her sweet face. She went to Derek when she wanted to play, and you didn’t have the time. 

And Aaron was kind of her safe place. Sometimes, she would disappear in the middle of the afternoon just to rest on his lap. Not even asking for any cuddle or anything, just like she needed to be with him.

“Can we trust you, Blossom?” He whispered in a very serious tone that you actually heard him use once with Spencer. 

And the only answer Aaron got was a cuddle against his hand and a peaceful sight from your dog. Something he seemed very pleased about from the smile that grew on his lips.

He then looked up at you, who were on the verge of freaking out from the cuteness of the situation. “I guess we’re good,” he said, making it sound like he made an agreement with your dog about you. Without you.

If it meant seeing a softer look on his face, you could accept being sidelined from this. 

“I won’t say anything, Aaron.” You finally replied for good, giving him his long-awaited answer.

“I just don’t…” he started before sighing. “You’re very important to the team. I don’t want to make things weird here because I…you know.” 

Aaron had to fight hard to not add you were important to him too.

“We don’t have to make things weird, you know.” You smiled. “We could start with a simple coffee…date, and if we find it too awkward, we call it a day and laugh about it at David’s next dinner.” 

The smile he gave you was probably the most sincere of the night. It was a thank you.

Thank you for understanding his fear and validating his feelings.

Thank you for accepting to take care of his old and still broken heart.

“Thank you," he then said. For being you.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife@winyourheartemma @aaronhotchnersgf @averyhotchner @liilysblog @storiesbynova@lemoncee@mayhills @deeninadream @sillymuffintrashflap @alediao @jsjcue @marina468 @violettablackwood @yasministration

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[kiwriteswords]

Hi Ki! Could I get an Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader fic, where maybe she LOVES christmas and he's sorta grumpy about the whole thing and she really changes him!

A Season of Sunshine

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Female!Reader||Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: 5+1, Christmas, Sunshine Reader, fluff, mentions of grief, mentions of holiday sadness, mentions of alcohol in social setting, legit tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn, no use of Y/N.

Sypnosis: 5 times reader brought sunshine to Aaron Hotchner around the holidays, +1 time Hotch brought sunshine to her.

I.

Aaron Hotchner observed you from across the bullpen, your laughter ringing out like a bright bell amidst the quiet hum of clicking keyboards and murmured conversations.

The first snow of December swirled gently outside the frosted windows, a backdrop to your seemingly boundless energy. You were leaning over a desk, cheerfully handing out small, festively wrapped candy canes to your teammates.

You looked so happy. That was the thought that lingered in Hotch’s mind as he watched you move from desk to desk, your smile contagious enough to soften even the usually stoic faces of Rossi and Morgan.

“You’re going to give me a cavity, Sunshine,” Morgan teased as you placed a candy cane on his keyboard.

“That’s what dentists are for,” you replied with a wink, earning a chuckle from him.

Hotch’s lips twitched, but the smile never fully formed. It was a rare thing for him these days, and while he appreciated your attempts to brighten the team’s spirits, he couldn’t help but question how someone who dealt with the kind of darkness their job revealed could remain so light—so...sunny.

The holidays were always difficult. For everyone. Suicide rates spiked, depression deepened, and grief—a familiar companion for Hotch—seemed sharper in the winter cold. He thought about Jack, about the guilt that came with knowing his son’s memories of Christmases past were punctuated by his absence, his work always pulling him away.

And then there was you. The newest member of the team. This was your first Christmas with the BAU, and you’d already brought in a small, sparkling tree to decorate the corner of the bullpen, strung colorful lights across your desk, and started an advent calendar that you insisted everyone participate in. You’d even convinced Penelope to wear a reindeer headband, complete with jingle bells that she delighted in shaking whenever someone passed her office.

“Hotch?”

Your voice startled him from his thoughts. He realized belatedly that you were standing in front of his desk, holding out a candy cane with a hopeful smile. Up close, you were radiant, your eyes sparkling with holiday cheer.

“For me?” he asked dryly, glancing at the candy cane as though it might be a trap.

“Of course. Everyone gets one,” you said, placing it neatly beside his coffee mug. “It’s peppermint. Good for focus.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. There’s research on it and everything,” you replied, as though your enthusiasm alone could make it true. You lingered a moment, tilting your head to study him. “You’re not much of a Christmas person, are you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied carefully.

“But you wouldn’t say you are one, either,” you countered, your smile never faltering. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix that.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving him with the candy cane and a faint scent of pine and vanilla trailing in your wake. Hotch’s gaze followed you as you returned to your desk, now chatting animatedly with JJ about the best Christmas movies.

He shook his head slightly, turning back to the stack of case files in front of him. Fix that, you’d said. As if he were some project in need of holiday spirit. He supposed he should’ve been annoyed, but there was something about your relentless optimism that he found...endearing.

Over the next few days, your efforts to “fix” him grew more deliberate. A holiday playlist softly played in the background of the bullpen, courtesy of you and Garcia. You organized a Secret Santa exchange, somehow roping even the most reluctant members of the team into participating. When the team went out for an after-hours dinner, you’d insisted on ordering hot cocoa for everyone, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.

It was infectious, your enthusiasm. Even Hotch, who prided himself on his unshakable focus, found himself humming along to a Christmas tune as he reviewed case notes late one evening. He stopped mid-hum, frowning. You’d gotten to him.

By the time the team’s annual holiday gathering rolled around, Hotch couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere. The bullpen felt lighter, more alive, and the credit undeniably belonged to you. Yet, he still struggled to reconcile how you could be so bright amidst the shadows they encountered daily.

That evening, after most of the team had left, Hotch found himself standing by the small tree you’d brought in. The lights twinkled warmly, and a single wrapped present with Jack’s name sat underneath. You’d insisted on helping him pick out something special for his son, your genuine excitement rivaling that of any child on Christmas morning.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He turned to find you standing beside him, your coat draped over your arm.

“It is,” he admitted quietly.

“I know this time of year can be hard,” you said softly, your voice losing some of its usual buoyancy. “But it can also be really beautiful, in its own way.”

Hotch studied you for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in your expression. “How do you do it?” he asked finally. “Stay so…”

“Happy?” you finished for him, smiling faintly. “I’m not always happy, Hotch. But I try to focus on the good things, especially when the world feels dark. It helps.”

“Focus on the good things,” he repeated, almost to himself. His gaze shifted back to the tree, the warm glow of the lights reflecting in his eyes.

“Exactly. Like candy canes and Christmas trees,” you teased gently, nudging his arm.

For the first time in a long while, Hotch allowed himself a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected gratitude. “For what?”

“For reminding me.”

You tilted your head, your smile widening as you replied, “Anytime, Boss.”

And for the first time, Aaron Hotchner found himself looking forward to Christmas.

II.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the corner of David Rossi's cozy living room, a glass of sparkling water in hand. The house was warm and bright, filled with the soft glow of Christmas lights and the hum of cheerful conversation. Children’s laughter rang out from the area near the tree, where Jack, Henry, and Michael were busy examining their gifts while Savannah held baby Hank on her lap, cooing softly to him.

Hotch’s gaze drifted to you, as it often did these days. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jack, helping him assemble a toy airplane with nimble fingers and endless patience. Jack’s face was lit with excitement as he explained the steps in his careful, deliberate way, and you listened with an encouraging smile. Occasionally, you glanced up to share a warm look or quick comment with the adults nearby, your laughter soft and genuine.

You looked so happy. And watching you, Hotch felt something he couldn’t quite name. Warmth, perhaps, or an ache just beneath it.

It had been over a year since you joined the team, and in that time, you’d become the one person who could cut through his carefully guarded exterior. You had a way of disarming him with your relentless optimism, your knack for seeing light in the darkest moments. He’d felt it most acutely during the holidays, when the weight of loss and responsibility pressed hardest against him. Somehow, you always managed to draw him out, to remind him that there was still beauty in the world.

“Dad!” Jack called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Look at this!”

Hotch stepped closer to the group, bending down as Jack held up the half-assembled airplane. “That’s impressive,” he said, his voice warm. “You’ve got a good helper.”

“Your dad’s just saying that because I haven’t broken anything yet,” you teased, glancing up at Hotch with a grin. There was a faint blush on your cheeks—likely from the eggnog you’d been enjoying—and your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Not yet,” Hotch replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

You gasped in mock offense, your laughter bubbling up. “I’ll have you know, I am an expert toy assembler. Just ask Henry.”

Henry, who was sitting nearby, nodded sagely. “She’s really good,” he said, earning a chuckle from the adults.

As the evening wore on, the children settled into a quieter rhythm, playing together under Savannah’s watchful eye. The adults moved to the kitchen, chatting over mulled wine and eggnog. You lingered by the doorway for a moment before making your way toward Hotch, who had retreated to the quieter edge of the room.

“You’re hiding,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

“Just taking a moment,” he replied, glancing down at you. You’d swapped your eggnog for water, but the slight sway in your stance betrayed your earlier indulgence.

“It’s Christmas,” you said softly. “No moments allowed. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” he said, and it surprised him how true it felt.

You studied him for a moment, your smile softening. “Good. You deserve it.”

The warmth in your voice unsettled him, and yet he couldn’t look away. You had a way of seeing him that no one else did, peeling back the layers he worked so hard to maintain. It was disarming, intoxicating, and he didn’t know whether to thank you or guard himself more fiercely.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Bringing people together. Making them feel…better.”

You tilted your head, your expression turning thoughtful. “I try. It’s not always easy, though. Especially with you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your eyes brightening again. “And you should also consider letting yourself enjoy things a little more. Just a thought.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replied, and the soft, teasing edge in his tone made your smile widen.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You looked up at him with an openness that made his chest tighten, and he found himself wondering—not for the first time—how someone like you had ended up here, in a world so often filled with darkness.

“Merry Christmas, Hotch,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that lingered long after you’d turned to rejoin the group.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

III. 

Aaron Hotchner stared out the window of the small motel room, the cheap curtains drawn back to reveal the dim glow of Christmas lights strung up on a nearby house. It was the only reminder of the holiday, a faint glimmer of cheer amidst the grim reality of their current case. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, tired and drawn, the weight of the day etched into the lines of his face.

The case was bad—one of the worst. Children were involved, and they were short-staffed, with JJ staying behind to be with Henry and Michael. Hotch had insisted on it, even though it meant carrying the guilt of being away from Jack. Jack, who was now old enough to understand that his father’s work sometimes came before everything else. Old enough to feel the sting of his absence.

The thought gnawed at him, a sharp pang that had been with him all day. This was a Christmas Jack might remember—one of the few left before he stopped believing in the magic of the holiday. And Hotch wasn’t there. He should’ve been there.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, half expecting Morgan or Rossi, but it was you. You stood there with a small smile, a wrapped package tucked under one arm. Your presence alone was a balm, a brief respite from the heaviness that seemed to cling to him.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice quiet but warm. You weren’t your usual bubbly self tonight—the weight of the case had tempered your sunshine—but there was still a light in your eyes that seemed undimmed.

He nodded, stepping back to let you in. You placed the package on the small table near the window, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned to face him.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend Christmas,” you said softly, your gaze steady on his. “But I thought maybe we could try to make it feel a little more like home.”

Hotch felt his throat tighten as you handed him the gift, your smile tinged with something tender. He unwrapped it carefully, his fingers brushing against the edges of the frame as he revealed the photo inside. It was a candid shot of him and Jack, taken during one of their rare moments of unguarded joy. Jack was laughing, his arms thrown around his father’s neck, and Hotch’s own smile was wide and genuine—a version of himself he hardly recognized anymore.

“Where did you…” His voice faltered as he looked up at you.

“I snuck a photo of you two over the summer at the get-together Penelope hosted,” you admitted, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “I thought you might want something to remind you of him. Especially tonight.”

He swallowed hard, the emotion catching him off guard. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice rough. “This means a lot.”

You smiled, that warm, gentle smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his world. “I’m glad.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the heater. Then Hotch cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back to you. “Would you…stay for a while?” he asked, surprising even himself. “I…I think I could use the company.”

Your smile widened, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”

The two of you settled on the edge of the bed, a small laptop propped between you as you queued up an old Christmas movie. The screen cast a soft glow over the room, the sound of holiday music mingling with the rustle of case files as you both worked quietly. Occasionally, you’d make a comment about the movie, drawing a rare chuckle from him, or he’d ask for your input on a theory for the case, your perspective always sharper than you gave yourself credit for.

As the hours passed, the weight on his chest seemed to lift, just a little. Your presence was steady, grounding, and he found himself watching you more than the screen. The way your eyes lit up during certain scenes, the way your laughter softened the edges of his grief, the way you leaned just slightly toward him, as though drawn by some invisible force.

Eventually, the movie ended, and the case files lay forgotten on the nightstand. You’d curled up on your side of the bed, your head resting on the pillow as sleep claimed you. Hotch sat beside you for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of your breathing, the peaceful expression on your face.

Carefully, he slid down beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. As his eyes closed, the photo of Jack on the nightstand caught his gaze one last time. For the first time that day, he felt a flicker of peace.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured softly, the words barely audible in the quiet room. And for the first time in years, he meant it.

IV.

Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he stepped into the bustling bullpen, the hum of holiday cheer filling the space. Twinkling lights wrapped around cubicle dividers, and Penelope Garcia had outdone herself again, transforming the office into a festive wonderland. The annual Christmas gathering was in full swing, and the team—his family, as much as he’d allow himself to admit it—were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the break from their usual grim reality.

He scanned the room automatically, his eyes landing on you. You were by the snack table, laughing with Morgan and JJ, your smile radiant under the soft glow of the holiday lights. You wore a deep green sweater that somehow managed to be both festive and professional, and your laughter, as always, was the kind of sound that warmed even the coldest corners of his heart. Jack adored you, the team adored you, and though he’d never said it aloud, Hotch knew you were the brightest part of his life. The thought lingered, unspoken but ever-present.

“Hotch, my man,” Morgan called, clapping him on the back. “Looking sharp as always. You’ve got to come try Garcia’s infamous eggnog. It’s got a kick that’ll put hair on your chest.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll pass.”

Morgan smirked but said nothing, his eyes flicking briefly toward you. Hotch didn’t miss the knowing glance, but he chose not to comment. The team had been teasing him for months now, their thinly veiled remarks about how well you two complemented each other becoming harder to ignore. And the truth was, they weren’t wrong. You were the sunshine to his shadow, and no matter how hard he tried to maintain his stoic demeanor, you always found a way to break through.

“Hotch, come here for a sec!” Penelope called, waving him toward the breakroom with an exaggerated flourish. Her excitement was suspicious, but he indulged her, weaving through the crowd of colleagues.

You were already there, standing by the counter with a cup of cocoa in hand, your head tilting in curiosity when you saw him approach. “What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and Penelope.

Penelope’s grin was practically devious. “Oh, nothing,” she said innocently, gesturing upward. “Except...look up.”

Hotch followed her gaze, his stomach sinking slightly as he spotted the small sprig of mistletoe dangling above the two of you. He heard the team’s collective laughter and chatter outside the door, and when he looked back at you, he saw the faint flush that crept up your cheeks.

“Penelope,” he said, his tone even but edged with warning. “This seems highly inappropriate.”

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” Morgan’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Don’t be a Grinch. It’s tradition!”

The team’s voices joined in, a chorus of good-natured peer pressure that only made the situation more absurd. You laughed softly, glancing at him with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “Looks like we’re outnumbered,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hotch’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile threatening to surface. “It seems that way.”

You stepped closer, your expression softening as you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. The warmth of your touch lingered, and when you pulled back, you gave the team an exaggerated shrug. “That’s all you’re getting. This seems like an HR nightmare waiting to happen.”

The team erupted in laughter and groans, their teasing echoing through the room as they slowly dispersed, leaving the two of you alone. Hotch stood there, momentarily stunned. He was rarely caught off guard, but something about the way you’d handled the moment—with grace, humor, and that unshakable light of yours—had left him uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“You’re quiet,” you remarked, breaking the silence. There was a hint of teasing in your tone, but your eyes held something deeper.

Before he could respond, you stepped closer again, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious note. “For the record,” you said, your gaze locking with his, “I’ve thought about doing this for a very long time.”

And then you kissed him. Fully, softly, your lips brushing his with a warmth that stole his breath. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting, but gentle and deliberate, a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, but there was a quiet confidence in your expression.

“Merry Christmas, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying that same warmth that always seemed to anchor him. And before he could find the words to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there beneath the mistletoe, the faint taste of peppermint and cocoa lingering on his lips.

He stared after you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite name. You’d left him stunned, questioning everything he’d been holding back for so long. And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—really wonder—what he was waiting for.

Aaron Hotchner stood frozen beneath the mistletoe, replaying the moment over in his mind. Your touch, the warmth of your lips, the quiet confidence in your voice as you walked away—it all lingered like a soft hum, reverberating through him. For a man who thrived on control, who prided himself on composure, he was suddenly untethered.

The sound of laughter and conversation from the bullpen drifted faintly into the breakroom, but Hotch barely registered it. His gaze had followed you as you disappeared through the doorway, the gentle sway of your steps a stark contrast to the rapid thrum of his pulse. He raised a hand to his cheek, where your earlier, teasing kiss still burned faintly, before letting it drop.

He should follow you. Say something. Do something. But what? His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slow and uncertain. You’d left him with no doubt about your feelings, and yet he still found himself grappling with the implications, the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

The door creaked slightly, and Morgan’s head poked through, a smirk firmly in place. “Hey, Hotch, you coming back out? Or are you still processing?”

Hotch shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, his tone even but quieter than usual.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Take your time, man. But don’t let her get too far ahead of you. She’s got a lot of sunshine to give, and you’ve been standing in the shade too long.”

With that, Morgan disappeared, leaving Hotch alone once more. He exhaled deeply, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For all his teasing, Morgan wasn’t wrong. You were sunshine, the kind that warmed even the coldest, darkest parts of him. And maybe—just maybe—he was ready to step into that light.

With a resolute breath, he straightened his tie and stepped out of the breakroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were by the tree now, talking with JJ and Garcia, your laughter carrying softly over the hum of the party. For the first time, Hotch felt a clarity he hadn’t allowed himself before.

He wasn’t going to wait anymore.

V.

Aaron Hotchner stood in the kitchen; his sleeves rolled up as he finished drying the last of the dishes. The faint sounds of Jack’s laughter drifted in from the living room, where you were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, sorting through the pieces of a puzzle you’d brought as a Christmas gift. Jack, now a teenager, had grown taller and lankier in the past year, but his laughter still carried the same unfiltered joy that made Hotch’s chest ache with pride and affection.

He glanced over his shoulder to see the two of you working together, your head bent close to Jack’s as you studied the image on the puzzle box. You wore a soft red sweater, simple but elegant, and jeans that hinted at your easygoing nature. The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree reflected in your eyes as you laughed softly at something Jack said. Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at the way you fit so seamlessly into his life, the way you made everything—even something as ordinary as a puzzle—feel special.

The evening had been everything he could have hoped for. You’d arrived earlier with a bright smile, carrying a bag of gifts and a small dish of your signature dessert. Jack had met you at the door with a quick hug and an eager grin, his awkward teenage reserve slipping away in your presence. You’d brought him a few thoughtful gifts, including a hardcover art book filled with sketches and techniques, knowing he’d taken up drawing. Jack had practically beamed as he flipped through the pages, his gratitude clear in the way he couldn’t stop thanking you.

For you, Hotch had chosen something more personal. When he’d handed you the small wrapped box after dinner, you’d looked at him curiously, your fingers carefully peeling back the paper. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm—a tiny sun.

“It reminded me of you,” he’d said simply, his voice quiet but steady.

Your breath had caught, your eyes shining as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “Aaron,” you’d murmured, your voice soft with emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He’d watched as you fastened it around your wrist, the charm catching the light in a way that seemed fitting. You were his sunshine, after all—the bright spot in his darkest days.

You hadn’t come empty-handed either. You had given Hotch a new tie, one that followed a similar pattern to his others--it was very him. You’d slipped back to your bag and pulled out another box, this one wrapped in dark green paper with a neat silver bow. “This is for you,” you’d said, holding it out to him with a touch of nervousness in your smile.

Hotch had unwrapped it carefully, revealing an elegant, framed photo of himself and Jack. The picture was candid, taken during one of Jack’s soccer games earlier in the year. Jack was grinning, his arm slung casually around his father’s shoulders, and Hotch was mid-laugh, a rare moment of unguarded joy captured perfectly. These moments so far and few these days, Jack growing up before his eyes so fast. He couldn’t help but worry if he had missed too much, but this photo was a reminder he was present. 

“I thought you could use an updated photo of the two of you,” you’d explained, watching him closely. “I thought it might be nice to have a reminder of how much Jack adores you.”

For a moment, Hotch hadn’t been able to speak. He’d traced the edge of the frame with his fingers, his throat tightening as he looked up at you. “It’s perfect,” he’d said simply, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you.”

Now, as he stepped into the living room, he saw Jack stretch and yawn dramatically, the puzzle only half-finished. “I’m heading to bed,” Jack announced, his voice carrying the exaggerated tone of a teenager.

“Goodnight, kiddo,” you said warmly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. Jack groaned in protest but didn’t pull away, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Jack said, pausing by Hotch’s side before wishing you goodnight, “Thanks for the gifts; I loved them.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your smile softening as Jack disappeared upstairs.

Hotch settled beside you on the couch, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow over the room. You tucked your legs beneath you, leaning slightly into his side as he rested an arm along the back of the couch. The quiet filled the space like a comforting blanket, and for a moment, Hotch simply let himself savor it.

“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” he said, his tone teasing but tinged with sincerity.

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’m just trying to win him over with gifts and puzzles. It’s all part of my master plan.”

Hotch chuckled, his thumb brushing idly against your arm. “It’s working.”

Your smile lingered, but your expression shifted slightly, growing more thoughtful. “Aaron,” you began, your voice softer now. “Can I tell you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady as he turned to face you fully. “Of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the edge of the throw pillow beside you. Then you looked up, your eyes meeting his with an openness that made his chest tighten.

“This past year has been… incredible,” you said, your voice tinged with emotion. “Being with you, getting to know Jack, feeling like I’m part of something so special… I can’t even put it into words.”

He listened intently, his hand still resting on your arm, his thumb now tracing small, reassuring circles.

“What I’m trying to say is… I love you,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly on the last word. “And I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but tonight felt right.”

The room seemed to be still, the faint crackle of the fire the only sound as your words hung between you. Hotch felt his breath hitch, his chest swelling with an emotion so profound it left him momentarily speechless. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he leaned closer.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “More than I can ever say.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but your smile was radiant as you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his. For a long moment, the two of you simply stayed like that; the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

Later, as the fire burned low and the room grew quieter still, Hotch held you close, his arm draped around your shoulders. He glanced at the bracelet on your wrist, the tiny sun catching the last flickers of light.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “I’ve thought about telling you for so long, but I kept overthinking it. I was so nervous you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Hotch’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, his voice quiet but firm. “You never had to worry about that,” he said. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it.”

You looked up at him, your smile soft but full of emotion. “We’re quite the pair, huh? Overthinking everything when it’s so obvious.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. “Maybe. But I think we got it right in the end.”

Your hand brushed against his, your fingers intertwining. “The best kind of right,” you murmured.

Hotch pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the weight of your words and the warmth of your presence filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. As the fire flickered its last embers, he held you close, silently marveling at how you’d turned his world into something brighter than he’d ever thought possible.

+I

Aaron Hotchner stood in the middle of the living room, adjusting the final string of twinkling lights around the small tree you and Jack had picked out together the week before. It was early Christmas morning, and the house was quiet save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint sound of Jack’s laughter from the video game he was playing upstairs. Hotch had been up for hours, carefully setting everything into place for what he hoped would be the perfect day.

Living with you had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the warmth you brought to his home but the way you’d taught him to savor moments, to lean into the joy of life rather than keeping it at arm’s length. This Christmas, he wanted to return the favor.

The first part of his plan unfolded at the BAU’s holiday party earlier that week. For the first time, Hotch had embraced the festivities rather than standing on the sidelines. He’d worked with Penelope to set up a hot cocoa bar, complete with toppings and festive mugs, and even organized a Secret Santa exchange. When you’d arrived in your cozy sweater and bright smile, you’d lit up even more upon seeing what he’d done.

“You did all this?” you’d asked, looking around at the decorated conference room.

“I had help,” he admitted, his lips curving into a rare smile. “But I thought it might be nice to bring a little sunshine to the team. You’ve inspired me.”

Your cheeks had flushed at his words, your smile widening as you leaned into his side. “I think it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

Now, at home, he hoped to create something equally memorable. He’d waited until you were fast asleep the night before to finish wrapping the small but meaningful gifts he’d chosen for you. Among them was a leather-bound journal with your initials embossed in gold, a nod to the way you’d always jot down your thoughts or ideas. But the most significant gift was hidden beneath the tree, tucked inside a small box. It wasn’t extravagant—Hotch had never been one for grand gestures—but it was deeply personal.

When you came down the stairs later that morning, your hair still slightly mussed from sleep and a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, you froze at the sight of the living room. The tree glowed softly, surrounded by neatly wrapped presents, and the mantle was adorned with garland and stockings. On the coffee table sat a tray with freshly brewed coffee and your favorite pastries.

“Aaron,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. “Did you do all this?”

“Merry Christmas,” he said simply, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I wanted to make it special for you. For us.”

You looked at him, your eyes shining as you took it all in. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

The morning passed in a blur of laughter and warmth as you and Jack opened gifts together. The journal earned a quiet, heartfelt thank you, but it was the last box Hotch handed you that brought tears to your eyes. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny sun-shaped charm, a perfect match to the bracelet he’d given you the year before.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over the charm. “I love it.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said, his voice low. “And of everything you’ve brought into my life.”

Later, as Jack retreated upstairs to play with his new gifts--mainly video games this year, you and Hotch curled up on the couch together. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room as you rested your head against his chest.

“You really outdid yourself this year,” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. “You’re like a whole new person.”

“Not new,” he corrected gently, his hand tracing slow, comforting circles on your back. “Just better. Because of you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your smile soft but radiant. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. And you’ve given me the best Christmas I could ever ask for.”

He leaned down to kiss you, his heart full in a way he hadn’t thought possible. “I love you too,” he said softly. And as he held you close, the warmth of the season and the light of your presence surrounding him, he knew that this—this life with you—was the greatest gift he could ever receive.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

[yelenasbraid]

good enough — joe burrow

summary — ‘we’re not good enough’ is starting to sound and feel like ‘i’m not good enough’ for joe

warnings — fem!reader, whole lotta angst, mentions of panic/not feeling great, takes place after the game against the eagles, lots of italics so sorry, maybe some ooc joe?? halfway proofread so don’t come for me.

note — i listened to the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by delaney bailey and whewww it fueled the angst

ANOTHER FUMBLE RECOVERY. another turnover. another at-home loss. he couldn’t fight this game anymore, he couldn’t fight the refs, he couldn’t deny the very blatant fact that they weren’t good enough.

so he sat, watching jake perform the last moments of the game. he watched as they lost, the score 37-17. he knew the stakes coming into the game. the eagles were a prominent team, a good opponent. he was expecting a good game out of it, not a blowout.

the post-game press conference was going to be a nightmare.

what kept him sane as he walked in the tunnel wasn’t a thing or an event, it was a person. you. he knew you watched the entire thing, he knew you’d be upset, as was he. he also knew that if one person said the wrong thing he’d snap.

he just needed to see you. just for one second.

he walked into the tunnel, his head hanging as cameras flashed. he clenched his fists; they wanted a picture of this?

“joe,” he picked up his to the sound of your voice, and if he didn’t know better, he would have collapsed right then and there. he walked up to you, putting the rest of the energy he had into his getting to you. he gently wrapped his arms around you, inhaling your perfume, reveling in your warmth.

you pulled apart from him like gum from the concrete; he didn’t want to let you go. he didn’t want to go to the press conference and face the failures, his failures.

“don’t you dare go there,” you gently warned, your voice like a cool stream over a sore wound. your hands held his clenched fists, which eventually opened to envelop yours. you were right, but it was too late; he was already there.

“i’ll see you at home,” he swallowed. his eyes twitched, the glass beneath them shattering as he made eye contact with you. he took a breath; he was not going to lose it.

“i love you,” you reminded him, letting go of his hands.

“i love you,” he hummed, mustering up some energy to offer you a smile. to you, it just looked like a more relaxed expression. he trailed off, being whisked away by staffers. he gave you one last look before he disappeared to the locker rooms.

—

his drive home was silent. his hands wrung the steering wheel as the conference played over in his mind.

“we’re not good enough, we’re not good enough. we gotta get better,”

“we gotta take responsibility for how we’re playing individually,”

“i don’t think anybody was good enough today,”

the underlying message that the reporters didn’t catch, thankfully, was that he wasn’t good enough. he should have been better. it was all his fault.

you’d catch it though. he knew you saw through him the moment you saw him. he loved it about you, that he didn’t have to say anything for you to get him. it wasn’t always the case, but it was this time.

he pulled into the driveway, throwing the car into park and sitting there for a moment. he stared at the wall of the garage, losing himself in the defeat and disappointment of the night. he blinked, throwing himself out of whatever funk he was in, and shut the car off. his body ached, his head was heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep. it was only 6 pm; going to bed now wouldn’t hurt right?

he grabbed his bag and walked up into the house. he opened the door to the smell of vanilla and woodsmoke, his eyes directed to a candle that was lit in the kitchen. he didn’t see you in the living room or the kitchen, and for a second he thought you’d left. he swallowed, nerves bubbling in his gut as he kicked his shoes off by the door.

“babe?” he called, his voice hoarse and scratchy. his expression relaxed as he heard you pad down the stairs, seeing you in sweats and a t-shirt.

“hey,” you smiled, coming off the stairs. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching as joe stood there. he didn’t know what to do, clearly this game proved that. he just wasn’t good enough. the voices from past recruiters filled his mind as he zoned out again, whispering sweet lies to him about his performance.

he’d never be good enough.

there’s always someone better.

he wasn’t even good enough for you.

his breath hitched as he focused on you, the world around him coming back into focus.

“what?” he cleared his throat, seeing the confused expression on your face.

“i asked if you were hungry,” you repeated. seeing him this dazed worried you, especially given the circumstances.

“don’t really have an appetite,” he responded, moving past you and towards the stairs. his emotions were a sour cocktail, and he was tired of it being the only thing settling in his stomach. he wanted you told hold him, to comfort him, but he also needed to figure out what exactly happened out there. his brain was leaning towards finding a solution, even if there was no use in the state he was in.

“i figured,” you hummed, letting him stroll past you up the stairs, “i’ll be here when you’re ready,” you added. you’d wait for him, all day every day. you’d let him go through his process, do his routine, and he’d come back to you. he always did.

joe paused on the stairs, something stopping him. he didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your voice in his head breaking through the noise, telling him to not shut you out. maybe it was your divine-like patience. you always made time for his moods and his failures. did he make time for you? amidst his struggles, did he ever take a second to make time for your moods and your struggles? was he being a good boyfriend?

“baby?”

“why are you still here?” he asked you, his tone sharp, despite him meaning to sound that way.

“what?” his tone caught you off guard, making you rapidly blink to help you process.

“you should leave,” he continued, “you…” he was panicking. why was he pushing you away? he needed you.

“what are you talking about?” your fear struck you, but you still fought yourself. he couldn’t mean what you thought he meant, right? you swallowed, watching as he battled himself. watching as his eyes avoided yours, as his fists unclenched and then clenched again. he was shaking too.

“you’re always here for me, when have i ever been there for you?” he asked, “i’m not a good boyfriend, i’m not a good quarterback,”

“joe, stop,” your voice stopped him, a stern expression reminding him much of his mother. while you were serious, there was undoubtedly a kind warmth behind your eyes. he panted, his eyes filling with hot tears.

as silence sat between you, joe’s breathing lessened. he walked back down the stairs, dropping his bag at the foot of them. he stood there, deflated, as you approached him. you took his face in your hands, feeling warm tears hit your fingers. your thumbs whisked them away, trying to give joe some semblance of comfort during a time where there wasn’t much of it.

joe wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. he pulled you in close, the weight on his chest lessening as he let you pull him in. he let your warmth take him over, spreading like a wildfire over his bones. he felt your fingers through his hair, your hands running down his back. you were the personification of comfort and safety, and he was trying so hard to drink it all in.

“you are not a bad boyfriend,” you hummed, and in response he squeezed you tighter, “you’re not a bad quarterback,” you added, running your hands down his back. he pulled away from you as tears fell from his eyes. he wiped them away with the palm of his hand.

“how?”

“do you remember that time i was followed by some guy? i called you, and without any hesitation you answered and came to help me,”

“that’s just what a boyfriend is supposed to do,”

“hold on, i’ve got more,” you patted his chest, “the time when my mom had a cancer scare. you left practice early every day to make sure not only that i was ok, but if i needed anything. the time i got promoted at work and you surprised me with my friends over for dinner. the time i was spiraling so badly after a bad encounter with someone at work you picked me up, made me a delicious dinner, and made sure i felt appreciated and loved,” you listed them off, and there were many more. you guys weren’t perfect, by any means, but he was enough. he’d always be enough.

“you’re a good quarterback. if you don’t want to look at the numbers, look at your heart. you have such a passion for these young guys, for the vets. you lead them well and confidently, you make sure they know they’re appreciated and give them their first game ball if necessary, like you did with andrei. but because none of us are perfect, we make mistakes, but it makes us better. it doesn’t define you as a person,” you continued. you watched the gears turn, and while it would take some time for joe to see that himself, he knew you were right. he knew what you were talking about, he saw what you saw, and it calmed the frayed nerves in his body.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, “i really don’t,”

“you deserve the world, joe burrow,” you countered, giving him a soft smile. he gave you one back, sniffling.

“i’m sorry for telling you to leave, i just…i don’t know,”

“i know, just don’t push me away. i’m not here to make things worse for you, i hope you know that,” you allowed a laugh at your last words, making joe chuckle too.

“i know that,” he agreed.

“don’t push me away,” you repeat, resting your hand on his chest, it movie with the rise and fall of his chest.

“i won’t,”

“good,” you smiled, “now, i say it’s time for a comfort show,” you grinned, which made his face light up. the both of you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the plush white cushions. you settled a blanket across your lap, while joe grabbed a blanket of his own, laying his head in your lap.

“spongebob?” he turned his head up to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“sure thing, squidward,” you teased, kissing him on the nose. you turned it on, then nestling into your spot on the couch. you ran your fingers through joe’s hair, occasionally catching his neck before going back into his hair. joe melted into you, cuddling into your warmth and your safety. he watched the episode, giggling at a couple parts, but the most important thing is that he was with you. that you were the glue that held him together. the feeling of your hands in his hair sent prickles down his spine, and in a good and comforting way. every prickle sent warmth across his body, relaxing his taut muscles.

you bent down and kissed his temple.

“i love you, joe burrow,” you hummed.

“i love you more, y/n l/n,” he hummed back. it wasn’t too long before sleep bid him closer, and took over his body. he slumped into you, his soft breaths telling you he fell asleep. you kissed him again, smiling against his warm skin. he was safe and he was loved, and that’s all that mattered.

joey looked so sad after the game 🥺 hopefully this makes a bit better. ALSO! i do have a couple more fics lined up that might be released this week so STAY TUNED!! i just wanted to write an angsty fic ngl

tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Walking the Road for Her

Wanda Maximoff x Gray Witch!Reader

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: You can't live without Wanda and you've tried everything else so when Agatha comes knocking on your door you accept immediately, but the teen that's with her...he seems so familiar

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF AGATHA ALL ALONG! Grief/Loss, hallucinations, death/mortality, emotional distress, supernatural elements, implied self-sacrifice, character death, reunion with a deceased loved one

Authors notes: Thank you @scarlethexelove for indulging in my random Wanda thoughts.

When Agatha asked for you to walk the witches road, you didn't hesitate. She was put off by your eagerness, but never told her why you were walking. You kept that part to yourself she didn't seem to mind. Everyone had a reason, and everyone had their secrets, so no one asked, and you weren't about to tell them you wanted, no needed Wanda back.

You would give up anything and everything to have Wanda back. If it meant to team up with Agatha, you would do it.

So you did. You met up with her and put on the cheery smile she hated. You always assumed she hated you for being a younger witch still full of life, but since Wanda died, you felt like you died too. You got along well enough with the others. You knew Jen the best being closer in age, though you didn't care for her products.

The teen seemed eerily familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. Why does he remind you of Wanda of a life you can't seem to remember.

You're overly protective of him. You don't let him have the wine, and when you hallucinate from said wine, you blink, and suddenly, you're looking at Wanda. Back in her early twenties with the eyeliner, ripped stockings, painted nails, and rings on every finger. You cry over it, cupping her face until it turns back to his.

“Are you okay.” He looks at you with concern. You pull away quickly and wipe your eyes.

“S-Sorry.” You quickly run the ingredients back, trying to escape the feelings. You need to stay strong. You need to get Wanda back.

You end up getting through the trail. Not without its costs. Losing Sharon wasn't something you had in mind, but the witches road is treacherous and has no place for mortals. You never should have let Agatha do that, but hindsight and all that. You knew you had to press on and on the road Teen asks,

“Are you sure you're okay? You and Sharon called out for the same person.” You swallow hard.

“Yeah I'm fine. We all had hallucinations about things. I'll be okay.” You tell him and then mumble under your breath, “Not like I don't deal with it every morning...” his head swivels.

“What was that?” He asks.

“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.”

The further you journey, the harder it gets. Sometimes, you want to give up, to give in, and join Wanda another way. But something stops you every time. You almost think you can feel her, feel her all around you. In the trees, the air, the leaves beneath your feet. With a quick turn of your head, you think you so the soft auburn color you miss so much. The road is playing tricks yet keeping you grounded to your goals.

You make it to the end. Finally passed the last trial everyone who had made it. Their prize awaited them. You waited, didn't see her, and then you heard a whisper in Sokovian.

Your name.

You looked around everywhere. “Over here milaya.” You hear her call. You whip around and see her. She doesn't look like the Scarlet Witch anymore. Back before that. Like when you were on the run. You run into her arms without a second thought.

You can't help as you cry. Burying your face in her neck as your body shakes with sobs. Her vanilla scent invades your senses. “Shhhh sweet girl, I've got you.” Wanda holds you close. Your heart feels whole again now that you're back in her arms.

Your sobs turn into sniffles. “I've missed you so much.” You mumble against her. Her nails lightly scratching at your back. Something she's always done to sooth you. Kissing the side of your head and letting her lips linger.

“I know Detka. I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I'll never leave you again.”

You held onto Wanda tight, afraid to let go as if she'd disappear again if you stopped.

Wanda opened her eyes, looking past your shoulder her eyes widened in surprise and then softened as she saw him.

“Bi-Billy?” Wanda's voice shakes slightly. You pull back but not fully letting her go. You follow her gaze that lands on the teen. Your brows furrow before you look back to Wanda.

“Wanda?” You question her.

She lets go of you when Teen responds to the name. He tries to say something, but the sigil protects him. A wave of Wanda's hand changes that. “Billy?” She asks again.

“Yes, that's me.” You're really confused as you see Wanda's red tendrils come out sending red waves through his eyes before disappearing. “M-mom? H-how did you...?”

Billy runs towards Wanda, slamming into her, but she doesn't budge. She holds him tightly in her arms. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know my own son?” Wanda whispers. It's just loud enough for you to hear. Confusion morphs into realization as you look on.

The reason he looked so familiar, the reason he reminded you of her. Of course, it was one of the twins. Sure you hadn't been a part of the hex, but you had seen the recordings of it. Last you had seen the twins, they were 10 inside the hex.

Your heartbeat quickens when you remember what you had seen next as the hex fell the you Wanda had created was destroyed along with the twins. She had held you tightly until you were no more.

It's a shock to see him in the flesh. To understand who he really is. He pulls away from Wanda and turns to you. “Mama?” He's cautious having been giving the memory from Wanda and realizing that you had never got to meet him. Do you even know who he is? Will you accept him as your own?

Your breath catches. It's like waves of memories flood through you as if they had always been there. Everything from the hex coming to life as tears fill your vision and spill over. “Oh my sweet little boy...look at you!” Your arms wrap around him tightly. It had been there, blurry when you thought about it. Of this being your son. “Mama is sorry you had to go through all of this.”

“Mama don't apologize. I'm happy to have you back.” He pulls away slightly keeping an arm around you and opening his other for Wanda. She joins into the hug.

“I'm happy to have both of you back.” You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

You hug them both tightly. This still left you without one son, but you knew you'd find him. If Billy made it out somehow, then Tommy must be out there, too.

Wanda cups both of your cheeks and looks between you. “Moya lyubov i moy syn (my love and my son).” Tears in her eyes she can't believe she is back and that she had both of you. Her heart is almost complete, but there is still a missing piece to the puzzle.

You didn't need her powers to know what she was thinking, “We'll find him, milaya.” She smiles at you, giving a soft peck on your lips.

“We will. Now that I have you two I know we will.”

This was more than you could have asked for at the end of the road.

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋆.˚☕︎

miya atsumu x f!reader

you always considered atsumu to be a fairly guarded person — that is, until you hear him crying in the bathroom after a particularly abysmal day.

part three of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

The third time Atsumu served the volleyball into the net, his coach called him into the office.

"I'm worried about you," he told the twenty-two year old, pacing behind his large mahogany desk. "You're showing up late, you're not present during practice — you're making mistakes no member of my starting lineup should be making this close to the start of the season. What the hell's going on?"

Atsumu's jaw flexed at the question, his knee bouncing repeatedly from the barely contained anger thrumming through his veins. This chair was too small, his coach's office too stuffy. He was not, under any circumstances, ready to talk about this.

"Dunno." Atsumu sniffed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. What explanation could he give? That he was dumped at the end of last school year? That he was driven out of his friend group, forced to move out, and was now living with a girl who, however kind, probably thought he had some kind of undiagnosed mood disorder?

No, he couldn't admit to any of that. It felt too private, too juvenile to say to a man who, this time last year, believed he had the potential to go pro. Instead, Atsumu kept his eyes trained on the ground and said most palatable lie he could come up with.

"I just haven't been gettin' good sleep lately, is all."

His coach folded his arms across his chest.

"That's all it is, then? Your sleep?" he asked, clearly not buying the excuse, but respectful enough not to push his player's boundaries. Atsumu nodded. "Well in that case, maybe a couple weeks on mental health leave will give you enough time to catch up on your sleep."

"Mental health leave — ?" Atsumu blanched, gripping the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white. "Yer bein' serious?"

"Do I look like I'm pulling your leg here?" his coach snapped. "I need you to be present on that court come January, and that ain't gonna happen unless you work out whatever the hell is going on in your head."

Atsumu couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But what about the rest of off-season?"

"You'll stick to your strength training and conditioning plan, same as the rest of the team. But you'll be excused from all practices and scrimmages until November."

He might as well have shot Atsumu in the stomach. Four weeks. No volleyball. Atsumu couldn't even remember the last time he was off the court for that long. Was it middle school?

Upon seeing the anguish on Atsumu's face, his coach said, "Look, Miya. Recovery is a part of off-season, too. There's no shame in that. Take your break, deal with whatever it is you need to deal with, and come back with your head screwed on straight. Understood?"

And that was that.

Atsumu stabbed his straw into the lid of an iced vanilla latte later that afternoon, the university coffee shop buzzing with students, professors, and visiting families. He'd hoped the music blasting through his AirPods was enough to drown out the sounds of them yapping. But it certainly wasn't enough to drown out the sound of his own thoughts.

How dare his coach pluck him out of practice like that — like he was a bad piece of fruit about to rot the entire stand? No one on the university men's volleyball team had put in more hours than he had. Hell, this team needed him more than anyone else on that court. But the second he was no longer useful to them?

Discarded. Dumped. Put on mental health leave.

The label left Atsumu's blood boiling.

"Erm, excuse me?" a voice squeaked out from his right. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu ripped out an AirPod. "What?"

The young student flinched at the scowl on Atsumu's face. She couldn't have been older than eighteen.

Pointing towards the condiment station behind him, she said, "You're blocking the napkins."

"Oh." The young volleyball player's shoulders slumped, heat rising into his cheeks. "My bad."

He stepped aside so she could swipe a few from the dispenser, heart hammering in his ears as he told himself to calm the fuck down. He was never really good at that, tempering his anger. Dealing with it in a way that left him and the people around him unscathed. No matter how hard he tried, it always remained a hair's breadth out of his control.

But before he could open his mouth to apologize, the student asked, "Sorry if this is totally weird of me, but...could I get your autograph?"

He was taken aback by the question. Her eyes shyly darted from his face to the iced coffee in her hands.

"You're Miya Atsumu, right? The setter on the men's volleyball team?"

"I — yea, yea I am," he stammered, face now flushed with embarrassment. "And while I'm, uh, flattered, now's not really a good time — "

"It's just that my friends and I are such big fans," she gushed, glancing over her shoulder at the group of girls giggling together in the corner. Were they...taking pictures of him?

He hooked an index finger behind the collar of his hoodie and tugged, suddenly claustrophobic.

"We tried congratulating you on your championship win last season, but you disabled your DMs on Instagram," she continued, speaking to him as if they were old friends. "You also haven't posted anything recently. Is everything okay?"

"That's really none of yer business — "

"Is it because you and Akemi broke up?" she asked innocently. The name shot him right between the ribs. "I saw she's been posting photos with her new boyfriend. You two were friends, right?"

Atsumu could feel his throat constricting. "I — "

"It's too bad, honestly," she said, a giggle escaping her lips as she reached out to touch his arm. "You're really cute. Maybe if you give me your autograph, I can give you my number in return — "

Her words died upon seeing the look on Atsumu's face.

Because if there was one thing he could not stand, it was a fan who didn't know her place.

"Like I said," he muttered. Tone flat. Eyes empty. "It's really none of yer damn business."

She immediately retracted her hand from his forearm.

It was drizzling by the time Atsumu shoved open the door to the coffee shop, the aghast looks on his fan club's faces twisting into his chest like a knife drawing blood. He was used to the attention that volleyball had granted him, had reveled in it at one point. Now, it just made him feel small. Violated. Stripped of his own personal space.

Is it because you and Akemi broke up? I saw she's been posting photos with her new boyfriend...

Unwanted memories began to flood his mind. The smell of alcohol on her breath. The guttural bass of the music, thrumming through the house.

You two were friends, right?

Her lipstick on his teeth. His hand beneath her shirt. The sick, sour feeling of bile at the back of Atsumu's throat.

It's too bad, honestly.

Atsumu slammed the front door to the apartment ten minutes later, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his skin. He shucked off his hoodie and threw it onto the couch, chest heaving. As if things couldn't get any worse, he realized he'd left his latte at the coffee shop.

Great, he thought, scrubbing his hair out in frustration. Real fuckin' fantastic.

He flipped on the faucet in the narrow bathroom connecting both of your rooms, splashing cool water on his face in attempt to calm himself down. But his heart felt like it was about to collapse in on itself. He hated how that night still made him feel — hated how Akemi still managed to dictate every single aspect of his godforsaken life. Where he lived. Who he was friends with. Whether or not he could play the sport he loved.

It's not fair, he told himself, over and over and over again. As if doing so would undo the past year of life. It's not fuckin' fair...

He shut the faucet off, squeezed his eyes shut, and tilted his head towards the ceiling. He willed himself not to cry, but the tears were already prickling the corners of his vision.

God. His shoulders shuddered, a sob escaping him.

It was going to be a long night.

After your shift at the university bookstore, you teetered across campus in a clunky pair of rain boots, an umbrella in one hand and a recyclable drink carrier in the other.

You'd stopped by the coffee shop on your way home, purchasing a matcha for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for Atsumu — his favorite, you'd observed over the past couple of weeks. Midterms were right around the corner, and while Atsumu was more likely concerned about the upcoming volleyball season than his exams, you needed all the study fuel you could get.

It was bizarre, living with an athlete who played televised games and boasted over thirty thousand followers on Instagram. You weren't big into college athletics — so to you, Atsumu was nothing more than your prickly roommate with the occasional sweet side. But to the rest of the world, he was Miya Atsumu.

Setter on the men's volleyball team. Top prospect for the professional volleyball draft. And, according to a couple Reddit threads, a total heartthrob. (Haruka's finding, not yours.)

After wiping your boots on the door mat and propping your umbrella up to dry, you let yourself into your tiny apartment and nearly tripped over Atsumu's pair of Asics.

Cursing under your breath, you kicked them off to the side and yanked your own shoes off — all while balancing the stupid drink carrier in one hand.

"Atsumu!" you huffed, storming into the kitchen. "I told you to stop putting your shoes directly in front of the door! I swear, I'm going to break a tooth one day — "

You stopped once you'd heard it.

The soft, steady sound of crying coming from behind the kitchen wall. The sound was completely foreign to you, yet recognizable enough to make your stomach drop.

No. No, it couldn’t be.

You immediately placed your drinks in the refrigerator and padded over to your bedroom, Atsumu's muffled cries slipping beneath the crack under the bathroom door. His sobs were jagged, panicky. Almost as if he were gasping for air. Your heart broke ever so slightly at the sound of them.

You debated turning on your heel and leaving him be. After all, Atsumu didn't seem like the type to want to cry in front of anyone, much less the roommate he'd just met a few months ago.

But another, softer part of you willed yourself to stay, willed yourself to reach out with a tentative fist and rap twice against the closed door.

"Atsumu?" you called to him, your voice quiet. Gentle. "Atsumu, are you okay?"

Your roommate's cries came to a sudden halt. The seconds seemed to drag on for minutes before he responded.

"Do I sound okay?" He sniffled, his voice a mere croak. You tried not to roll your eyes at his sarcasm. "I thought yer shift didn't end 'til seven."

"It's five on Wednesdays," you admitted behind a grimace. "Sorry to interrupt your cry sesh. Do you need me to leave?"

"What? No, ya don't have to leave." From the inside of the bathroom, Atsumu leaned his head against the bathroom cabinets and laughed miserably. "Geez, Y/N. Can't ya let a guy cry in peace?"

You mashed your lips together. "Is that what you want?"

A second passed. Two. Then, hesitantly, Atsumu said, "Can ya grab me some tissues, actually? I ran out of toilet paper."

You joined him in the bathroom two minutes later with a fresh box of tissues and a glass of water, nudging aside wads of toilet paper to make space for you to sit. Atsumu had propped himself up against the bathroom vanity, his t-shirt stained with tears, his eyes bloodshot. You sat cross-legged beside him on your fuzzy pink bathmat and offered him the box.

"How was yer shift?" he asked after blowing his nose. You leaned over to drag the waste basket a little closer.

"Good. I got into a heated debate with a professor about why bookstores don't use the Dewey Decimal system."

Atsumu snorted. "Did ya win?"

"Course I did,” you smiled, picking up the wads of toilet paper one-by-one. "How was practice?"

He locked his fingers together and stretched his arms out towards the ceiling, triceps flexing against his cotton t-shirt.

"I left early."

"Why? I thought you were always the last one to leave."

"I know." He released an exasperated sigh. "My coach...he pulled me out in the middle of practice and put me on 'mental health leave' for a whole month. Basically said I was no use to the team if I couldn't play well."

Your expression fell at the dejection in his words, the way he averted his gaze. As if he was admitting to you that he'd failed.

"Oh, Atsumu," you said, resting a hand on his forearm. "I'm so sorry. Did you have any idea he was going to do that?"

His lips twitched downwards, eyes glossing over with tears.

"I mean, I knew I wasn't playin' my best, but I didn't think I was that useless." Wincing, he added, "I may have also chewed out an annoyin' fan who asked me questions about my ex."

"Damn," you said, blinking back in surprise. "You're that popular?"

At this, Atsumu barked out a laugh. "Ya really don't watch sports, don’t ya?"

"I live under a rock, apparently."

"It's okay." He rested his hand atop of yours and gave your fingers an affirming squeeze. "I kinda like how ya have no idea who I am."

"I know a little bit," you argued. "I know that you shared a womb — and that you leave your smelly gym socks on the floor. I know how you like your coffee and eggs, and I know you use my body wash because you think it smells nice."

Atsumu snapped his hand back in betrayal. "I do not."

"I also know that you lie."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I may have used it once or twice."

You shook your head at his half-baked confession. "So maybe I don't know everything about you. But I know enough." Pressing your lips together, you added, "Maybe you could color in the rest for me?"

"...the rest," he repeated flatly. You nodded.

"Only if you want to. We can also just sit here and brood."

He peered down at you — at your kind, thoughtful expression — and felt a tug at his heart. Where would he even begin?

"Well, my ex-girlfriend is the whole reason I'm livin' with ya in the first place," he sniffled. "We started datin' my sophomore year of college, and she was my first serious relationship."

You nodded quietly, never breaking his gaze. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued.

"I don't even know why I dated her in the first place. We fought all the time. I'd slam doors, she'd throw shit. I always accused her of cheatin' on me, but I didn't think she would actually do it.” The words had tumbled out of him before he could stop them. "It happened towards the end of last year, at a fraternity party." His throat bobbed. "It was also with one of my closest friends."

Your breath hitched, and suddenly, it all made sense. The immediate move-in. The weekly groceries from Osamu. The distant look on Atsumu's face — as if he were somewhere else entirely.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. No matter how bad things got, you deserved better.” And, before you could stop yourself, “Your ex-girlfriend is a bitch."

Atsumu winced. "I thought she was the love of my life."

"Well, the love of your life is a bitch," you clarified. "Your friend, too. Who does that? Are they together? Do you need me to egg their cars?"

A shaky laugh tumbled out of him at the deranged image of you, egg carton in-hand, pelting their cars.

"You wouldn't."

"You're right. Eggs are way too expensive for that.”

"The worst part of it is, they looked so fuckin' happy together." Atsumu ran a calloused hand down his face, trying to incinerate the mental image of them in his mind. "I couldn't stand seein' them around the frat house, so I moved. But I couldn’t even bring myself to do all the typical shit people do when they break up with their girlfriends."

"And what do typical people normally do when they break up with their girlfriends?"

"I dunno. Drink. Date around."

"Well, I can only imagine how disappointed you must be, being denied an STD like that."

Atsumu was full-on laughing at this point. "Ya can be really judgmental sometimes, ya know that?"

"Sorry," you said, although your belly warmed at the way the light returned to his eyes. You liked making him laugh like this. "All I meant was that not all people turn to alcohol and rebounds after a breakup."

"Yeah? What have you done in the past?" Upon seeing your perplexed expression, Atsumu said, "Come on. There's no way someone as pretty as you has never had a boyfriend before."

Your face grew hot from the indirect compliment, but you pushed it down as far as you could and tried to answer the question at-hand.

"You're not wrong. I was seeing someone my freshman year of college, but after we split, I...took up dance classes."

Your roommate blinked, trying to process this new information.

"Ya mean to tell me ya could dance this whole time?"

"I'm not great at it, but I hold my own." Sheepishly, you added, "Maybe you don't know everything about me, either.”

"S'pose I don't," Atsumu hummed, reaching for his glass of water and downing it in one go. You watched him tilt his head back, your gaze unintentionally tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his Adam's apple. "Maybe we outta change that."

Silence lapsed over the both of you like a gentle tide — a wordless acknowledgement of the friendship that had developed so naturally between you. You might not have known everything about each other, but judging by the sincerity on Atsumu's face, you knew there would be plenty of time for that.

You stretched out your legs so they were parallel to his. "So what are you going to do on your leave of absence?"

"Dunno," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably go the gym. Cry myself to sleep."

"No," you drawled, nudging his knee with your own. "Why don't we start by watching a movie tonight? Your pick."

"Ya don't have any studying to do?"

"I do," you admitted. "But I'm pretty drained after my shift. That professor really talked my ear off." A soft groan escaped your lips as you stood. "We can order takeout, if you like — oh, and there’s an iced vanilla latte for you in the fridge.”

Atsumu was taken aback. "Ya brought me one?"

"Two pumps of syrup, just how you like it." Pausing, you added, "I even asked for skim milk. You know, so you don’t blow up the toilet like last time."

“Ya heard that?!”

“I smelled it! I lit all the candles in the apartment because of it.” You bit back your smile as you said, “You’re lucky I didn’t burn the place down.”

Before Atsumu could pick his jaw up off the floor, you were already out the door, laughter bouncing off the apartment walls like sunbeams off a pane of glass.

He didn't understand how you did that so easily — how you always seemed to know what he needed, how you remembered the things he liked without being told. In just a few short minutes, you had sidestepped the walls he had carefully constructed around himself, gaining full access to his tethered heart.

It was unnerving. Terrifying, even. It made Atsumu feel seen for the first time in months.

You didn’t deserve that. No matter how bad things got, you deserved better.

He hadn’t realized he’d let you get that close.

And that — that was the scariest part of all.

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[hh0320]

𓄹 ⊹   ᳝🪐 ࣪⠀.  vanilla baby 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ( today i feel close to ill, it seems to be alright )

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫. chris x fem! reader x changbin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. mechanic! brothers au, love triangle, small town, age gap, first love! chris, love at first sight, angst, smut 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. smoking, profanity, use of pet names, explicit sexual content, masturbation, dirty talk, brief violence, jealousy, possessiveness, flawed characters 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.5k | 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬 <- -> 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬, 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹, 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. good girls that fall for Christopher don’t usually find themselves in Changbin’s path. it’s why he’s never met you, it’s why he’s never cared to.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. @shoganaiiii, @poody1608, @tsunderelino, @wickedbutlovely, @imagine-all-the-imagines, @hwangjoanna, @imeverycliche, @vviolynn, @jinibunny

Then.

The swing had been the first time your heart hadn’t felt yours.

The tree was a magnolia tree, something that had laid roots three generations back and just kept growing ever since. Your mother had suggested tying a wooden swing on it when you’d barely turned five, a way to pass the time in a place where time stood still often and there was not much to do at all besides marvel at nature and watch TV, something that proved impossible when the football team you called your cousins glued themselves in front of it and refused to let another person near it.

That had been then, a girl in pigtails with sticky fingers.

The matter of the heart—you’d been sixteen. It was wrong on all accounts. He had a girlfriend, he’d brought her over many times, your parents liked her, she’d given you advice on colleges, had brought over strawberry jello and warm bread her mom had baked—everyone knew everyone, everyone always knew everyone, everything, all the time—he was happy. And why shouldn’t he be?

Because you had a silly unspoken crush? Because you lay awake in your bed at night thinking of the way he traces his fingers along his jaw when he’s thinking or how he’s refused to ever cry in front of any living soul? How there have been multiple instances, ever since you two were really young, where shedding tears would be the only option for you, the only logical reaction, but to him it’d been unthinkable?

The set of his mouth, the squareness of his shoulders. Chris was like that—utterly selfless. Nothing was ever his, nothing was kept for himself. Even when it was, even when he wanted it so badly to be—it didn’t matter. He’d taught himself not to let it matter.

So, the swing. You’d been sitting on it, gently swaying in the July afternoon breeze. Half your relatives had driven out for the annual July 4th party. He was always welcome, always around, always so polite and bright and friendly. It’d be easier if he weren’t. If he’d never spoken to you. If you never met him.

Alas, there’d been a time when you were five and he was nine. Curse childhood.

He approached you slowly, from behind, making you jump. You’d gasped and hit his arm, clutching at the thing he’d end up stealing. He offered to push you, that charming smile of his in full display, the one no one could ever say no to.

“Be careful with me,” you’d told him, because you were traumatized from that one incident with your first cousin that had resulted in two scraped knees and a chipped tooth.

He knew about it, you were sure he’d be careful. 

You said it anyway.

“Of course,” was his reply, and then a comfortable silence as his sure hands pushed against your back. “I’d never hurt you, darling.”

Perhaps it’d been the terrible time you were having that you thought to say it. You’d never otherwise. It revealed too much, it gave away. You weren’t sure you could afford that, not this early, not this young.

It was stupid, really. Utterly fucking stupid.

“Would you kiss me?” You didn’t even dare breathe. Just looked on ahead as if it was nothing. As if your parents weren’t inside the house, as if his girlfriend wasn’t in the back porch grilling with his uncles and your aunt and every single fucking person this world has ever encountered, all centered around this house, eternally, always, always.

You could never get him by himself. You could never have him to yourself.

“I mean—at school. There’s a boy. I’ve never… he wants to, and I’ve never—I’m sorry, it’s awkward now, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”

The trees kept singing. The river kept flowing. The sun kept shining, the cicadas screaming, the world turning, his hands on your back, his fingers on your shoulders, the swing stopping, stopped, your body catapulted, shaken, pausing, expanding, closing in on itself. You’d gone ahead and done it, hadn’t you, you’re a stupid fucking girl, a precarious, capricious girl that thinks she can get anything she wants, and you recognize it as the truth, as a fault, because you’re sixteen years old and what business does he have with you except a shared childhood, what good will come out of such a risk, even as a joke, even as nothing, nothing at all, merely practice, merely a peck on the lips, the simplest touch—

“No.” Of course. Of course. And you would not cry, don’t you dare fucking cry

“Right, yeah, I thought so, please don’t—”

His fingers. His fingers. Pressing on your arms, consoling, comforting, holding. He was preventing you from spilling on the freshly mowed grass. He was letting you know it’s okay, he’s not going to laugh, he’s not going to leave, he’s not going to get scared and walk away.

But he’s not going to do it.

“This is all I can do for you, (Y/N).” And he resumes the swinging, your dress dancing with the force of the wind, your hair touching the fabric of his shirt with every move back, with every beginning of the fall, the fly, the journey from him to away from him, to him to not with him.

Your head hurt. You were hungry but not for food. You’d barely started feeling that hunger, the heart one. You’d trace around your breast and perform open heart surgery if you could, so the itch could go away, so that it satiated, whatever it was, whatever it meant and wanted. You couldn’t want this boy, and you couldn’t have him, either.

Not a boy. Man. Older than you. With a girlfriend.

“Do you hate me now?” A child’s question. Betraying.

“Who could ever hate you, sweetheart,” a ghost of a smile in the way he said it. “Impossible. Impossible.”

It had to be enough. It would be enough.

“I want some lemonade.”

His outstretched hand as he helped you get off the swing. The walk back, with just enough distance to not be a cause for concern, but close enough to smell his cologne. Vanilla. Tobacco. Making it hard to breathe right.

“I’ll get the little umbrellas,” and he knew this too, how you loved those frivolous things, how they made you laugh, because their purpose was only to look pretty once and be discarded afterwards.

You’d get to feel like this too. 

You watch him walk away, finally. You speak nothing of the mismatched buttons of his shirt, or how his girlfriend’s lipstick was smudged all the way to her cheek. 

The knowledge of what that meant burned in you like bright green acid. You swallowed the bitter taste of it, swallowed your tongue.

Now.

Your father was coming to pick you up.

According to Changbin, you’d walked a little too far and were, as a result of that and your long trip here, now beyond exhausted to return on foot. An experienced liar, he’d mounted you on his bike and taken you further into town, outside of one out of two diners, watching as you got off the vintage piece of junk rather ungracefully, determined to be mad at him for not minding his business when he should, as if leaving emotionally unstable girls to their luck on a dark night with no way to know if they'd be okay is something that happens a lot in your life.

Perhaps it was. You were a wild card, Changbin couldn’t possibly begin to figure you out. But he could keep you safe for a few more minutes until your family came for you, and so that’s exactly what he’d do. With or without your consent.

“You always butt in in people’s lives like this?” You glared at him from your place on the cold pavement, arms crossed in front of you defensively, stubbornly.

It was funny, really, cute even. So, this was the girl with the crush on his brother. At long last. Changbin had been invited into your life plenty of times, but had refused all of them. In hindsight, maybe he should’ve taken the offer, just so that he could get to say he’s known you as long as Chris had. He’d heard the stories, albeit the crazy ones. 

You were a riot, his blood thrummed just being near you. A firework explosion, sparking, sparking, crackling. Unpredictable.

“I don’t make it a habit, no,” he knew he was being an asshole, because he couldn’t stop himself from smirking, a sudden urge to get you more riled up whispering promises of pay off in his ear.

He wanted to see it in action, the unraveling. The furrow of your brow, deeper even than what it was now, the thinness of your lips as they pressed together in containment. He wasn’t sure why you were holding back—what you were holding back. You seemed to speak your mind just fine.

“Hypocrite,” you accused. Changbin adjusted on his bike, the word nuclear to him, helmet under his elbow, a cigarette on one hand. “I saw how you looked at me back at the bar. Before you realized who I was.” He stared, and stared. Silent. Denying by not denying. “You were going to fuck me tonight, weren’t you? A random girl that showed up in the middle of the night. Don’t you fucking dare pretend to me on your white fucking horse.

“You’re no different than the rest of them.”

There’s the bite. The claws. Not the innocent girl he’d heard been described for so many years, but something savage; something that’d seen the world for what it was and decided she would tear it down bit by bit. No longer naive to anything, but, instead, very smart. Changed.

You could’ve said this before and he would’ve thought twice about helping you. You were right. The lines only blurred as far as he could see, because you’re no stranger, not really. He doubted his little brother knew you were in town, and at that moment he wanted to keep it that way. Perhaps it was wrong, perhaps he didn’t care.

Changbin wanted to keep this version of you to himself. It was a calculative move following you outside. Something he could hold over you, the fact he had your father’s number. What did that make him?

He’d have fucked you against the bathroom stall and never looked at you twice otherwise, of course he would’ve. Your tits in full display like that, your ass hugged in perfect tiny shorts, his hands clenching at the thought of almost having you, of letting his primal instinct override any sense of self righteousness.

But then he looked at your face and saw his brother reflected. He’d fizzled out after putting a name on that body, on that strange intention. He didn’t quite feel like fizzling out now. His anger was palpable, but his shame was a mouth swallowing him entirely.

Still, your eyes. An open challenge. Up for grabs. 

He’d been late. So fucking late.

“I’d watch out if I were you, beautiful. I’m no little boy. I don’t give a fuck about playing nice.”

You blinked slowly. A century passed before he saw the ocean of them again. Then you smiled, psychotic, all questions and no answers.

“And you think I do?”

He sprung. The ash burned his finger, the helmet half forgotten, held by a hand that was no longer his. His breath was erratic, he could feel his eyes in their sockets. Like a junkie high on fuck knows what. Changbin felt manic, then, like he could do anything.

He could carry you back to his motorcycle and take you to his house. He could pin you right there, on freezing cement, and bury himself inside your misbehaving cunt until he could begin to get a better understanding on why you became like this, what led to this rebellion, exactly who’s leading behind it.

Good girls that fall for Christopher don’t usually find themselves in Changbin’s path. It’s why he’s never met you, it’s why he’s never cared to.

The parking lot was empty. His ears were buzzing with nothing but your taunting words, replaying over and over, questioning his ability to disregard the rules and fuck his client’s daughter senseless. He would do it, you think he wouldn’t? With a smile on his fucking face, when he delivers you to your father, safe and sound, his come running down your thighs.

There’s a reason why people swear off Seo Changbin. There’s a lot he would do, very little he wouldn’t.

“You don’t wanna do this,” he grounds himself, reminds you. “I’m not the one you want.”

A breathy laugh escapes you, cruel and mocking. You avert your gaze and look upwards, towards the starry sky. He stalks your every move. You’re a nebula to him. A comet. A four am drunken wish come true.

“The one I want doesn’t want me back,” you say, and it’s venom; it’s bitter bitter bitter.

Think again.

He doesn’t say this. It doesn’t benefit him. He’s being an asshole again.

So be it.

He forces himself to lean back against his bike, legs crossed at the ankle, smoke burning his eyes. He won’t do anything. He’ll stand the fuck down. He will. He fucking will.

“So, I’m the next good thing? You flatter me.”

“Barely,” you snort, and you get up, dusting yourself off, squinting off in the distance, your father’s car lights visibly growing closer. “It’s been a pleasure, Seo Changbin, but I got curfew, per your generous sponsorship.”

His jaw ticked, his teeth clenching inside his mouth. Stand down. Don’t do anything stupid. “You’re welcome.”

When will I see you again?

He waves two fingers; a simple hello to your father as you open the door. Everything inside him pulls towards you. He wants to find your clockwork, pry apart your machinations. Open you up, bleed you dry. Better he met you now. There’s purpose now.

“Don’t be a stranger,” you salute him from the pulled down window, and you’re off.

He remains astute, carved in place. He watches the car go, the model of it, and remembers each and every time he’s worked on it, how it’s improved since he got his hands on it. In a way you’re inside a part of him, driving off. He feels you on his skin.

The hand with which he touched you burns him.

Do you want to see me again?

I never want to stop.

Now, later.

It’s preposterous how mad you are.

You had no idea—how affected you can be by a person who you knew nothing of importance merely two hours ago. He’s the brother, the older twice, the name you kept hearing in your childhood but would never cross paths with because you’re not supposed to cross paths. You had nothing in common, still don’t, still won’t.

How presumptuous of him to think you need help. Because you don’t. You got it, it’s fine, you’re fine fine fine—and the urges…however strong they are, they’re under control, they’re manageable, you got a system, and it’s working and it’s fine. Ridiculous that a man denied himself something he had set his mind to do (the doing being you, you being the doing.) That had not been the way that was shown to you, certainly not how you’re used to doing things or accomplishing them. Frustrating.

Frustrated.

You needed sex. For lots of reasons, but right now, to silence this big fucking ball of voices tangled in your head, screaming in every way, all ways, how weak and twisted you are. How pathetic. How that one time, you’d asked for love, begged for it, and it had not been given to you. How unfair it burned in you, this rejection, how it’s shaped everything you are, standing in your childhood room, with all things of the past, all the ghosts and medals and drawings packed in pretty pink boxes that once used to carry shoes with sparkly lights and glitter laces.

You needed sex. Your chest was on fire, your hands were angry. The image of Chris greeted you every time you blinked. Other images, too, of less important boys—men, men—and all the precarious positions you’d put yourself in for them, to forget, to feel, to live, after and through and over, and over, over, over

The bed is suffocating. The closed door and the quietness of the house despite the million people always residing inside of it, it pissed you off; why was the night so still here, why did time pass by slower, or at all, why did you not get what you set out for, why did it have to be Changbin. Changbin, Changbin, Changbin…

Oh, this was dangerous. This was fucked. You’d do it out of spite, and he didn’t seem to be the hurting type.

Chris was, and that’s why you’d do it. How could it possibly matter, anyway. In your mind he had children and a wife, always a wife, always moved on, always older and more mature than you, you couldn’t even stop shaking, you couldn’t even calm your racing mind. Petty girl. Troubled girl. A shower should help.

Yes.

But not even the cold water could fix you. All it did was numb you to the bone externally—that fire inside kept burning, kept torching, annihilating villages, destroying wildlife, and him, and him, and him, prominent, staring, waving, and the other, carrying the matches in his pocket, offering them freely, smiling as he did so.

A car crush, a hydrogen bomb, the sound of shattering glass. He could only trigger you, set you off. It’d be fine if it was anywhere but here, but it was here, and you could not lie to yourself here. Not how you do. Not to this place.

You touch yourself and you think of brothers. You think of how much you want to see him, the rough hands, the broad shoulders. Brown hair, brown eyes. Kind smile. Your fingers are not enough, and this is how you feel all the time. Unsatisfied, hungry. So fucking hungry. Your mind lingers…then drifts off to a massive figure wearing a leather jacket. Dark, curly hair and even darker eyes. A scar—you slap a hand over your mouth, horrified at the loudness escaping you.

Suddenly it’s enough; it builds up from inside, your fucking soul aflame, and your stomach drops, your body caves. What is happening, what is happening, and it’s this: you just came to someone that’s taking more space than he should. Someone that should’ve been an afterthought of an unfortunate evening. More images— the silver lighter in his hand, the black cross hanging from his ear, the knife tucked in his boot.

The words ‘I will ruin you’ and the new meaning they’d taken now that you’ve seen the sharper end of the double sided blade. One regrets what he is while the other wears it like armor.

When your head hits the pillow, your eyes close and you dream instantly. Of black and smoke, and a deep deep anger that sticks to your skin like humidity. Of a car leaving and leaving, and leaving you behind. Again and again.

Of the white picket fence and how you’d never been chosen once.

Now, at the same time.

He thinks of you too. Hand pumping on his length, quick and sloppy, one palm flat against the door of his apartment, guilt and chagrin weighting on his shoulders, pulling down down, one step closer to the inviting pits of hell, a place that’s becoming more and more the only choice of residence in the afterlife, it seems.

He would’ve fucked you so good. White fucking horse. . . he chuckles to himself, his seed spilling out in hot spurts, staining the wood of the entrance, heartbeat erratic, thoughts unhinged, relentless; of your breasts, so full and plump-looking under that cheap ass material you called a shirt. And those legs, wonderfully naked and beautiful, how fucking sexy they would’ve looked wrapped around his waist as he took you in the back of his motorcycle.

A goddamn shame.

As, in turn, he gets in the shower, he decides he’ll keep you a secret for as long as he can. The event of your cousin’s wedding is no small ordeal, not in this cursed town, so it’d only be natural for you to show up, be present. Which means Chris would be thinking the same. 

Which means he’s expecting it to happen.

The cowardice of his younger brother is painfully pitiful. For many reasons, he did the right thing. For the only reason that mattered, he did not. It echoes in Changbin, this missed opportunity, and what it could mean for him.

You’re alike, you and him. In the most basic form, there’s chemistry between you, yes. But something else, too, something much darker, a match meeting its flame, or a hand grenade in the middle of war—he’s not saying it will be safe or sane. What he’s saying is it will be worth it. 

What he wants is your lips on his. Your body against his own. Your cunt burying him alive.

He smokes and thinks of ways to see you again. How nearly all of them mean causing trouble, and just as well, fuck it. He’s got the reputation to uphold, anyway.

But Chris. Chris will have to be dealt with sooner or later.

[willowsnook]

Coffee?

just a short little blurb i was thinking about

lando norris x reader

After two intense race weekends, the third one in this F1 triple-header had you completely drained. As part of the Williams partnership team, your role involved wining and dining sponsors non-stop, which left you with very little energy. By Saturday morning, you made a beeline for the coffee tent the moment you arrived at the paddock.

You had started bringing your own personal bottle of vanilla syrup to make a vanilla latte with because you were never going to be edgy enough to enjoy black coffee.

"Hola Y/N," Carlos called out to you as he approached the tent with Lando in tow. You'd met him when he signed with Williams and were looking forward to the next season that you'd be working together.

"Hey Carlos, can I make you something while I'm here?" You asked putting a lid on your drink. He shook his head, pointing to the cup he was already carrying. "What about you Lando, want anything?"

Lando's face scrunched up with a look of disgust much to you and Carlos' amusement.

"That stuff is horrible," he complained and you giggled.

"That's because you've only been subject to Carlos' order which in my opinion is gross," you said and Carlos shot you a look.

"Hey now," he said.

"Let me make you my version please," you asked Lando and he nodded giving in. He rested his arms on the coffee bar, leaning over to watch you as you made him a vanilla latte.

When it was ready, you handed it over to him, watching with anticipation as he took his first sip. He blinked, then took another sip, clearly surprised.

“This is… actually good. I like it,” he admitted, and you shot Carlos a smug look.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," he muttered. "Too much sugar means it's not even real coffee anymore."

The next day you were in the Williams hospitality area, helping set up when you watched Lando stroll in. He looked around the room searching for someone and smiled when he saw you jogging over.

"Hey y/n," he said.

"What's up?" You asked.

"Can you please make me one of those drinks you made me yesterday?" He asked, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. You laughed and nodded.

"Yeah I could use a coffee break anyways, let's go."

And so began a new tradition. That little coffee ritual became a staple in your race weekends and laid the foundation for a budding friendship between you and Lando.

[cloudyluun]

Lash Out (And Love Me) | nailtech!reader

Summary: When your sweet, silly boyfriend Harry volunteers to be your lash and nail guinea pig, you expect giggles and glue—what you don’t expect is him fully committing to his Bratz doll era. With glitter acrylics, wispy lashes, and enough sass to rival your clients, Harry turns your beauty studio into his own personal runway. But behind the drama and the tapping acrylics is the same boy who brings you pastries, cleans up your space, and tells you you’re magic. Who knew self-care could be a team effort?

A/N: HIIIII ANGELS 😭💗💗 Sooo this fic is inspired by the most ICONIC request ever!!! I saw “Harry with lashes and acrylics” and immediately dropped everything because YES. THIS is the kind of cracky fluff my soul lives for. Imagine soft boyfriend Harry blinking dramatically with 16mm wisps and tapping his pink glitter nails like he’s the CEO of Slay?? I was giggling the whole time writing this. I hope it makes your heart melt and your inner glam girl scream 💅✨ ty for reading I love u mwah mwah mwah

Word Count: 5,1k

Warnings: 

Extreme levels of fluff 💖

Mentions of beauty salon tools (lash glue, acrylics, etc.)

Harry being dramatic with fake lashes

Reader lovingly clowning Harry

So much pink it's practically a Barbie dream

Slightly suggestive jokes, but still sweet & soft

✨ Tap tap ✨ noises from acrylics

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The scent of lavender cuticle oil and sweet vanilla wax hung in the air like a signature perfume. Her studio was always warm, always inviting, even when the outside world felt like a spinning mess. Half the space was dedicated to lashes—plush recliner, ring light, neatly arranged trays of tiny black fans that could flutter anyone into hot girl heaven. The other half was nails—acrylics, gels, brushes, powders, glitters, rhinestones. Everything had its place, a cozy kind of chaos that only she understood.

She was perched on her stool, mid-paint, tongue poking out in concentration as she dragged a fine-tipped brush over a client's ring finger, crafting a perfect little flame.

"Okay, babe. These are officially fire," she said, flashing the nails under the light. "Literally."

The client grinned, nodding in approval as she waved her hand slowly, admiring the reflection of the red and orange tips. "You’re a magician," she said.

“I try.”

The front door chimed then, a familiar little ding that always made her heart do a dumb skip. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Is it the hottest lash tech in the land?” came a voice, low and teasing, already halfway through a smirk.

She turned, and there he was—Harry Styles, in all his casual glory. He had on a knit sweater with sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a cap low over his curls, and a brown paper bag in one hand, two lidded coffees balanced in the other.

"Hi, baby," she said, voice soft in a way it wasn’t with anyone else.

“Hi, love,” he grinned, walking the rest of the way in. He greeted the client with a polite smile before setting the bag and cups down on the small counter by her mini fridge. “I brought the goods. Flaky boy from that place you like, and the brown sugar one with the foam you always forget you love until you taste it.”

She raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You remember my order now?”

He puffed up like she’d handed him a Grammy. “Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn’t rattle off your coffee order in my sleep?”

“A terrible one. You’d be single. Alone. Cold in the streets.”

“Harsh.”

The client laughed as she gathered her things, carefully avoiding bumping her freshly done nails on anything. “You two are disgustingly cute. Thank you again,” she said, waving her fingers like a hand model.

“Text me if you pop one!” She called after her, already wiping down her station.

Harry wandered over, snatching a paper towel to help without being asked. He moved around her space like he belonged, which he did—he was there more often than not, whether dropping in for ten minutes between interviews or killing time on a slow afternoon.

She nudged him with her hip. “You don’t have to clean.”

“I know. But I like it.” He glanced around at the freshly wiped surfaces, her well-loved tools, her little pink fan still humming faintly in the background. “This place’s got your whole vibe. Feels like you.”

She paused for a second, glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking for brownie points. He just said stuff like that. Simple, direct, heartfelt. It was his thing.

“I like it here,” he added, taking a sip of his own coffee. “It’s warm. Peaceful. You’ve made a whole business where people walk out feeling better than they did when they came in. That’s kinda magic, isn’t it?”

She squinted at him. “Are you trying to make me cry at eleven in the morning?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing. You look cute when you cry.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, smiling as she sipped her drink.

Harry leaned against the wall, watching her reload her brush pot and refill a bottle of rubbing alcohol with practiced hands. There was something kind of hypnotic about the way she worked—focused, fast, but always with care. It was the same when she did his nails sometimes for fun or patched up his cuticles because "you're not going on tour with hangnails, baby, absolutely not."

He loved seeing her like this. Not just because she looked hot with her lashes curled and her apron smeared with glitter, but because she lit up here. She was in her zone.

“So,” he said, dragging the word out. “Got any openings today, or is your schedule full of baddies?”

She gave him a look over her shoulder. “You tryna book a fill-in?”

He held up his hands. “Just saying. I’ve got some down time and ten perfectly good fingers. And very plain lashes, might I add.”

“Not the lash envy.”

“Maybe a little.”

She laughed, then gestured to the lash chair. “Come sit. I need to reorganize my lash trays anyway. You can be my moral support. And my taste tester.”

“Dream job,” he said, flopping dramatically into the chair, long legs sprawling. “This better be the flaky boy with the raspberry filling, or I’m gonna file a formal complaint.”

“I’ll file your nails down to nubs.”

He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Kinky.”

She tossed a clean towel at his face, shaking her head. This was how it always was—him showing up with breakfast, her pretending not to be thrilled every time. Their relationship didn’t need grand gestures or long speeches. It was the everyday stuff—the way he knew exactly where she kept the almond milk in the mini fridge, how he refilled her paper towel roll without being asked, how he always asked about her clients like he genuinely wanted to know.

He reached for the pastry and took a dramatic bite, making a face like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. “God, you deserve awards. For taste. For style. For boyfriend selection.”

She snorted. “Modest.”

“Just accurate.”

She finished tidying up her station, then leaned against the table across from him, sipping the rest of her coffee. They sat in silence for a moment—comfortable, familiar, full.

Harry looked around the studio again, eyes lingering on the shelf of sample nails, the tiny framed photo of them in the corner, her name on the sign outside the window. “Y’know,” he said, softer now, “I really am proud of you.”

Her stomach did a little twist, the good kind. “Yeah?”

He nodded, still looking around like it was the first time he’d seen the place. “You built this. All of it. You didn’t wait for permission. Just... made it happen.”

She smiled, cheeks warm. “You’re gonna get me all sappy.”

“Good. You get all sappy, and I get more pastries. Win-win.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer, sunlight filtering through the blinds, pastries half-eaten on the counter, coffee slowly cooling. Just a regular day in the salon. But if you asked either of them, it was kind of perfect.

She finally peeled herself off the counter with a sigh, brushing a few flakes of pastry from her lap as she walked over to her lash cart. There was a new tray she’d been dying to open—extra wispy fans with staggered lengths that gave off that “effortlessly dramatic” vibe everyone wanted lately. She picked it up, turned it around in her hands like it might whisper secrets if she stared hard enough.

“I swear, these brands are making lashes out of clouds or something now,” she muttered.

Harry tilted his head from where he was still sprawled in the lash chair, eyes half-lidded, toe tapping in time with a faint beat playing from the Bluetooth speaker.

“That good?” he asked, sipping what remained of his coffee.

“That pretty,” she corrected, holding the tray up to the light. “I need to try ‘em. They’re supposed to have that barely-there, doe-eyed finish. Kinda like you woke up perfect but obviously didn’t.”

Harry smirked. “That’s your whole brand, innit? ‘Oh, this? I woke up like this, and also spent $120 to do so.’”

“Exactly.” She turned, hand on hip. “The lash girlies want soft glam that slaps. I gotta get it right.”

He watched her carefully select a few more tools, laying things out on her rolling tray, clearly falling into prep mode. The zone.

“You gonna call up one of your test-dummy besties?” he asked.

“Probably,” she said. “Or… I mean, you do have free time today.”

Harry raised a brow.

She grinned, almost sheepish. “I could practice on you. Lashes and nails. Kill two birds. You’d look hot.”

“Hot, huh?”

“Devastatingly hot.”

Harry pretended to consider this, setting down his coffee and folding his hands over his stomach in full melodramatic thinking pose. “Tell me more. Will I look like a pop princess or an early 2000s boyband member?”

She chewed on her lower lip, mock serious. “Mmm. Somewhere between Nick Carter and early Britney. A sprinkle of woodland fairy. With just a touch of ‘I own a pink convertible and wear bedazzled crop tops.’”

Harry burst out laughing, his head tipping back against the chair. “Honestly? Sounds iconic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wait—are you actually saying yes?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I trust you. Just don’t go posting me lookin’ like a Bratz doll on the internet.”

She blinked, surprised but not shocked. Harry had always been game for her weird ideas. He let her pluck his brows during a sleepover phase early on in dating, let her use his hand in an Instagram reel showing how to hold a brush “for max precision,” and once sat in full eye masks during a girls' night because “self-care is for everyone, babe.” But this? Lashes and acrylics? That was a new level.

“No posting,” she promised, crossing her heart. “But I am taking photos.”

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “For your private collection?”

“Obviously.”

He snorted. “You’ve got a folder of cursed boyfriend content, don’t you?”

“Oh, several,” she said casually, flipping on the ring light.

Harry kicked off his shoes and got comfortable, clearly committed now. “Alright then. Glam me up, baby.”

“You’re not gonna regret this?”

“I probably will the second I can’t scratch my face or blink right, but it’ll be worth it.”

She beamed and got to work, washing her hands and setting everything up like it was a real client appointment. Which, in a way, it was. Harry Styles was about to be her glittery guinea pig, and he was already making dramatic blinking noises just thinking about it.

She held up two lash trays in front of him. “Okay, serious question: Do you want full fairy fantasy or subtle glam?”

Harry leaned forward, examining the tiny fans like he had any clue what he was looking at. “Give me... the drama. If I’m doing it, I want to be able to blink and cause a breeze.”

“Say less.”

She prepped his lashes, brushing them with a soft spoolie, while he hummed a random melody under his breath. When she pulled out the lash glue, he immediately started flinching.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” she laughed.

“I’m mentally preparing! I’ve never had hot glue near my eyeballs!”

“It’s not hot,” she corrected. “And you said you trust me, remember?”

“I do, I do,” he said, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in.

The first lash went on without incident. Then, Harry started in.

“Am I giving pop-punk princess yet?”

“Not even halfway done.”

“Do I look like I should be in a girl group?”

“Almost.”

“Which one? Don’t say Spice Girls, that’s too easy.”

“You’re giving... Little Mix but, like, in their early days.”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Jade would be proud.”

She tried to stay focused—precision was key with lashes—but he kept interrupting her with increasingly ridiculous questions.

“What if I love them and don’t want to take them off?”

“Then you’ll be high-maintenance with high standards. Join the club.”

“What if I start influencing your clients?”

“Honestly, free marketing.”

By the time she was on the last lash, she was shaking with laughter, trying not to botch the placement. Harry had invented three fake personas for himself in the span of twenty minutes: a pop icon named Starlight Vixen, a lash influencer called Blink Twice, and a dramatic nail reviewer with the handle “ClackDaddy.”

When she finally finished, she held up the mirror.

Harry blinked slowly, then gasped. “Oh my god. I feel gorgeous. Like a Bratz doll that got lost at Coachella.”

“You’re stunning,” she agreed, snapping a dozen photos before he could protest.

“No posting, woman.”

“These are for me,” she said, saving them in a hidden album on her phone. “For emotional support purposes.”

Harry fluttered his lashes dramatically. “I feel like I could cause problems with these.”

“You already do.”

“Okay, but more problems.”

She laughed and leaned down to kiss his forehead, lashes and all.

“Can we keep them on for the rest of the day?”

“You’ll forget and rub your eye in like twenty minutes.”

“True,” he admitted. “But for now, I’m living my best life.”

He fluttered his lashes one more time for good measure, then gasped. “Wait—what if these change me as a person? What if I get emotionally attached to them?”

“You already are,” she said, laughing. “You’re naming them in your head, aren’t you?”

“Left side’s Veronica. Right side’s Dominique.”

“Of course they are.”

He beamed. “Veronica’s my edgy side. Dominique’s all vibes and velvet.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed the used lash brush into the trash. “Alright, Vixen. Ready for your nail appointment?”

He cracked his knuckles dramatically. “My time has come.”

“Hands on the table, pretty boy,” she said, patting the plush towel she’d laid out.

Harry obeyed with the seriousness of someone preparing for surgery. “Be gentle. These hands have held Grammys.”

“They’ve also dropped your phone in the toilet twice.”

“Allegedly.”

She snorted and grabbed her file, gently shaping his nails. He winced at first, clearly expecting it to hurt, which made her laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just adjusting to life as a hand model.”

“You’re about to have pastel pink coffin tips with tiny hearts. Not sure that’ll land you the Chanel campaign.”

“First of all,” he said, completely serious, “pastel pink is timeless. Second, hearts are very me.”

“You want hearts?”

He nodded, lips pursed. “Hearts. Glitter tips. Full Barbie glam. If we’re doing it, we’re doing it properly.”

She blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Absolutely. This is my moment.”

“Oh, you’re deep in character now.”

“I am the moment, babe. Click clack bitch, part two.”

She giggled, reaching for her swatch wheel and holding it out like a treasure trove. “Pick your shade of pink.”

He pointed decisively. “That one. The one that looks like strawberry milk.”

“Solid choice.”

While she prepped his nails, pushing back cuticles and buffing the surface, he tapped his phone with his pinky like he was adjusting to life post-nail-enhancement already.

“Feels weird,” he muttered. “Like, delicate. Powerful. I feel like I should be emotionally distant from everyone and start a feud on Instagram.”

“You’re gonna be unbearable.”

“Oh, I already am.”

Once she finished the prep, she gently applied the tips, sculpting them just long enough to be dramatic without compromising Harry’s ability to live as a functioning adult. He examined them mid-process like they were tiny art installations. “This one’s giving... main character energy. I think she’s the leader.”

“You’re naming the nails now?”

“Of course I am. That’s Gloria,” he said, pointing to his ring finger. “She’s been through things.”

“Okay, I can’t do this,” she said, stifling a laugh as she started laying down the pink base. “You’re too much.”

“I’m just emotionally connected to my glam.”

“You’ve had it for forty-five minutes.”

“And yet it’s changed me.”

By the time she started painting the little hearts—perfect, tiny, hand-drawn with a dotting tool and steady precision—he was absolutely glowing. Lashes still intact, head tilted to the side like a proud glamazon.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, quieter this time.

She looked up, surprised by the sudden softness. “Thanks, babe.”

“No, seriously. You could be charging triple. You’ve got the hands of a magician.”

“I’ve got carpal tunnel, but thanks.”

He laughed. “Still. You’re brilliant.”

She gave him a small smile and went back to top coating his left hand. “You’re only saying that because I’m holding you hostage with a UV lamp.”

“And because I love you.”

She froze for half a second, then glanced up. His expression was so soft, it made something ache in her chest. “Love you too, Glamazon.”

He smiled like he’d just won something.

Once she finished curing the top coat, she sprayed his hands with alcohol and rubbed off the tacky layer. The moment she was done, Harry immediately began tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap. On the counter. On his phone. On the glass of the mini-fridge. It was relentless.

“Stop it,” she warned, already grinning.

“I can’t,” he said, eyes wide. “They make noise. Beautiful noise. I’m like a rich aunt passive-aggressively texting her Pilates instructor.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re gonna break them.”

“I would die before I broke Gloria.”

She crossed her arms. “You keep saying ‘click clack bitch’ and I will soak them off.”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“But I haven’t even sent my dramatic voice note to Jeff yet.”

Before she could stop him, he lifted his phone and hit record.

“Jeff,” he said, clicking his nails against the phone mic like a Real Housewife in crisis. “I can’t come to the meeting. My lashes are too heavy, and my nails are too long. You wouldn’t understand. I’m different now.”

He hit send before she could snatch the phone away.

“Harry!”

“He’ll think it’s funny!”

“He’s going to think I’ve trapped you in a glittery nightmare.”

Harry grinned, completely unbothered. “Let him. I’m thriving.”

She watched him admire his nails in the mirror, fluttering his lashes, tapping the glitter tips gently on his cheek like he was testing how they felt against his skin.

“Can you believe I’ve never done this before?” he asked.

“I can,” she said. “Most people don’t immediately jump to full Barbie glam when trying something new.”

“Well,” he said, hands on his hips. “You deserve to practice on the best.”

“Oh, is that what this is? Practice?”

“It’s an honor, really.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And beautiful.”

She laughed, grabbing her phone again and snapping another picture before he could protest. “You keep talking like that, I’m putting these in the salon slideshow.”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Private folder only.”

She winked. “We’ll see.”

As he posed again, showing off the nails like he was about to start his own press-on line, she couldn’t help but feel a strange burst of warmth.

This was the kind of thing that would’ve scared other guys away—too extra, too silly, too “not manly”—but Harry? Harry was here in her lash chair with butterfly wisps on his lids and baby pink hearts on his fingertips, smiling like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

And honestly, it was. He’d made that more than clear.

She smiled into his chest, nose tucked just under his jaw, fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie. She stayed there for a while—just breathing him in, warm laundry and skin and the faintest trace of vanilla latte—but then she pulled back slightly and tilted her head to get a proper look at him.

The lashes were still holding strong, each little cluster fanned out just enough to make his eyes look even greener in the soft light. His nails, glossy and perfect, tapped idly against her thigh like they had a mind of their own.

“Okay,” she said, sitting up. “Before you ruin this masterpiece with something dumb like cooking or... zipping a jacket, I need photos.”

His eyes widened instantly. “No.”

“Harry.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon!”

“I draw the line at photo evidence.”

“You already let me glue lashes on your face and hearts on your fingers.”

“That was private,” he said, as if that settled it.

She leaned in close, flashing him her best sweet-evil grin. “So let me keep it private. Just for me. Promise.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Define private.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up her locked album folder. “I have a whole section already titled ‘My Princess’ with, like, three blurry photos of you eating ice cream and one where you're asleep on the couch with a face mask on. This will fit perfectly.”

He stared at her. “You named it my princess?”

She nodded solemnly. “You were wearing a robe and fuzzy socks. It was fitting.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Smile,” she said, raising her phone.

He tried to block his face with his hands, but the second he did, he caught his own nails in the reflection of her phone screen and cracked up.

“You’re actually loving this,” she teased, snapping a photo mid-laugh.

“I am not,” he said, fully smiling now.

Click.

“Okay, but what am I supposed to do with my hands?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious, holding them up awkwardly like mannequin claws.

“Anything. Literally anything,” she said, already clicking away. “Pose like a housewife. Pose like a pop star. Pose like someone who just spent ninety minutes getting pampered and secretly loved every second.”

He raised one pinky and gave a dramatic side-eye to the mirror.

Click.

He pouted, blowing her a kiss.

Click.

He sprawled back on the couch, hand resting against his temple like he was fainting from glam.

Click.

She was giggling so hard she almost dropped the phone. “Oh my god, you’re giving Vogue cover.”

“I’m giving get me out of here before this ends up on Twitter,” he said, even as he held the pose.

“You’re safe,” she said, locking the album and tucking the phone into her back pocket. “Swear.”

“Not even to your group chat?”

“Especially not to them. These are for emergencies only.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like...?”

“Like if I’m sad or stressed or you’re on tour and I miss your face. I’ll open that folder, see you with a full set and baby lashes, and everything will feel lighter.”

His smile softened, and he reached for her hand, nails clicking gently against her skin. “That’s allowed.”

She grinned. “You sure?”

“As long as you never post them.”

“Never. Cross my heart.”

They sat there in silence for a beat, just the two of them in the soft hum of the salon, surrounded by the faint scent of topcoat and sugar. The kind of silence that felt easy, like a blanket thrown over the day. She curled into his side again, the weight of his arm wrapping around her.

His fingers traced idle shapes on her arm, the pads of his fingers cool against her skin. He looked down at her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, then wiggled his own dramatically.

“You know,” he said, “I feel kind of... powerful like this.”

She looked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Lashes like butterfly wings. Nails like daggers. I could destroy a man.”

She laughed. “You can barely open a Snapple.”

“Still,” he said, holding his hand out in front of him, admiring the shimmer, “this is art.”

“You’re my art.”

He gave her a pleased little grin. “You’re just saying that because I let you practice on me.”

“I’m saying it because you’re ridiculous and wonderful and also very sparkly right now.”

He leaned in and kissed her softly, just once, then rested his forehead against hers. Then he pulled back slightly, lashes fluttering again with over-the-top drama. “Now do you think I could pull off rhinestones?”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

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