#but i definitely leaned more toward fiction

[prettystylinson]

(disclaimer, this is incredibly disorganized and an impulsive thought dump, i apologize in advance if anything comes off wrong and im so sorry this is so long! i’m fully open to any criticisms of my thoughts but please fully read through first)

this might be a wildly unpopular take but i hope you’re willing to hear me out a little on this; i do truly think that some of the criticisms that larries receive are not unfounded. undoubtedly, the way antis approach anything larry related is extremely toxic and, frankly, a bit rabid, absolutely no question about it, but i do think that a lot of larries are perpetually stuck in the 2010-2016 versions of louis and harry and cannot cope with the fact that these men are now in their 30s, have very much grown up, and cannot live up to the image of their late teens and early 20s. i’m very much detached from the fandom (as in, i believe i have a certain perspective observing from ‘outside’ but i am a fan/‘larrie’, however, i may be missing other nuances as i am a very new fan) and to me it feels like in many many ways people treat louis and harry as fictional characters. they take everything that louis and harry do and twist it to make it a performance for the fans, specifically for larries, then construe themselves as greater or true fans for ���noticing the signs’ (or, what they perceive to be communication with them specifically). that’s not to say that i necessarily think that louis and harry (or their teams) don’t signal in some ways, but i do somewhat get people who may see it as a bit absurd because, to be blunt, some of the stretches i’ve seen are absurd (some being the operative word, please don’t extrapolate what im saying). there’s this belief that every move louis and harry make is with the fans in mind and i very much think this is far from reality.

i think the perpetuation of this idea or dynamic or whatever is what drives certain larries to be unreasonably defensive in the face of perceived negligence from specifically louis. harry remains free from this criticism simply because he never speaks on larries and because the way he has distanced himself post 1D in order to protect his private life makes it very easy to project ideas onto him. there’s many potential reasons behind why louis says what he says and does what is does in relation to larries but regardless, he ultimately does not control antis nor do i think he should be responsible in any way for their behavior. in the specific case of louis’ recent tweets, there’s no real reason to believe that he is trying to ‘attack’ larries and it seems that people are perceiving it like that because they think louis always is doing things with them in mind, if that makes sense.

to sort of speak more broadly, i actually think louis and harry have very little to do with how polarized the fandom is in regards to larry. there’s a sort of interesting negative feedback loop i’ve noticed that’s rooted in the fact that larries form rigid hierarchies of what constitutes a ‘true larrie’ that drives antis to form similarly rigid hierarchies of what constitutes a ‘true real fan’ and vice versa. there’s extremely little room to have opinions that don’t fall cleanly in either camp and the lack of that space to bridge the perspectives drives them further apart. on top of that, egregious representations of fans on both side catalyzes it further. while i definitely lean far more towards the larrie side, it’s hard to engage with the fandom because i feel like i would be almost ostracized for some of my unpopular thoughts, to the extent that i can’t even really consider myself a larrie, by many people’s definitions.

your repost about unpopular larry opinions a little ways back really resonated with me for that reason, not because i necessarily agree with every single take (though i do agree with a majority), but because i wholly align with the idea that maybe, very likely, louis and harry did not have a picture perfect relationship. at the end of the day, we don’t know and will never know or have all the answers for what happened between them, we are all very much just interpreting stories about people we don’t know. thus, i really don’t believe that having a stance on any part of the spectrum makes someone a bad fan, because truly, we have no clue, so long as people stay respectful about it (i can’t stand the superiority complex both sides have about their perspectives).

anyways, i’m gonna stop myself from going on more tangents. i hope this made sense? very ramble-y and rudimentary but i have so many thoughts about everything that i wanted to get out there. i do want to establish that i really don’t mean any of this to be an attack on anyone, just some of my observations so far. i guess to also further contextualize, i am queer and i do feel detached from/apprehensive to (maybe? for a lack of better term) how many cishet people tend to talk about larry (+ louis and harry in regards to queerness in general), both antis and larries, that i think drives a lot of my cynicism of how i view this fandom. i dunno, maybe im way off base for some of the things i said here but i do think some of it is a conversation worth indulging

i’m not at all put off by this message. in fact, i appreciate the thought and nuance you put into it, and i agree with a lot of it. you raise some incredibly valid points that honestly are worth unpacking, especially from someone newer to the fandom with a bit of outside perspective. and don’t worry about the rambling—it was coherent, layered, and said with care. i respect that.

i think one of the hardest things for longtime larries like myself is seeing how the narrative around us has shifted. back in 2010–2012, most of us weren’t theorizing over “signaling” or interpreting tweets like scripture. we were just watching something real unfold, raw and unfiltered, before the media machine swallowed them whole. over time, as things got more heavily managed, more secretive, and more tense, people started to fill in the blanks—and yeah, sometimes that spiraled into conspiracy-level thinking. not all of it, but enough to give the entire label a reputation it hasn’t been able to shake since.

but you’re right—some larries do still see harry and louis as if they’re frozen in that old dynamic, as if they’re trapped in a tumblr-era time capsule. and as someone who’s been here since those early days, i get it. i understand the comfort that version of them gave to a lot of people. i also understand how painful it is to watch your favorite person evolve in ways you can’t interpret, or even fully support, because it feels like you’re losing something. i don’t excuse the cruel or obsessive behavior some fans project in response to that, but i can recognize where it comes from.

and yes—there’s absolutely a dehumanizing element in all corners of fandom when people start treating louis and harry like characters in a story instead of complex, flawed, evolving people. the urge to decode every action, to assign meaning to every tweet, every follow, every outfit, it all stems from wanting control over a narrative that’s never been ours. and i do think louis bears the brunt of the backlash because he’s present.

your point about harry being easier to project onto because of his distance is so real. it’s much easier to idealize someone who never contradicts you. louis doesn’t get that luxury because he shows up with all his mess and contradictions and rough edges—and some people treat him like a disappointment for it instead of a whole human being.

and god, the hierarchy thing you mention? completely agree. there’s such a toxic system in place where people compete over who’s the “better” larrie or who has the most “woke” take, and it ends up gatekeeping the fandom to the point of absurdity. you can’t breathe without being accused of being too much or not enough. and somewhere along the way, genuine love and curiosity got replaced by moral performance and performative outrage.

so no, you’re not way off base. not at all. i think we need more people willing to sit in that messy gray area and actually talk about this stuff—how queerness is commodified, how celebrities are dehumanized, how fandom love can turn into entitlement, how community can morph into mob mentality. we don’t need everyone to agree. we just need people to stop shouting long enough to listen.

thank you for this. truly.

[sinvulkt]

Hi! Bringing in two new angsty concepts for the fanfiction (and fiction) world: Wet Marshmallow and Shredding Fangs.

💧Wet Marshmallow💧

Now, wet marshmallow is a term I've been using for a while. It looks to be the most popular type of angst (and incidentally the type I like the less, rip XD — which doesn’t mean it can't be good quality). It's a softer kind of angst, closer to hurt/comfort than anguish. It tend to follow the tropes of self doubts, low self esteem, depression... feeling like you deserve whatever pain the world throw at you in a 'lean the other cheek' way, and turn it into 'selfless martyrdom'.

It is more a creature that seek pity and compassion, and bow down low in order to attract both �� making the audience empathise with their suffering. "Poor little meow meow" is typically a wet marshmallow phrasing in my eyes. 

It is the angst of the stereotypical 'victim'. Sobs, crying, fever, searching hug and comfort... 'wet marshmallow'.

🧊 It is melting water.

⚡️Shredding Fangs⚡️

For shredding fangs angst, I just came up with the term! I was looking for something that could clearly differentiate it from wet marshmallow. It is one of my favorite types of angst, but is a lot less popular because less moral and harder empathise with. It is harsh, cutting, angry and hurting. It will bite, and hate itself all the more for it (possibly in denial). It is the will to fight, the snarling confidence to push forward no matter what. There is the notion of a powerful will being broken into shards. It is a cornered injured beast who would attack anyone and everyone in the hope it would give it the power to scale walls. Shredding Fangs is suffering turned into anger, anger turned into power (thus is the way of the dark side—). For another parallel, that would be 'selfish martyrdom'. The self hate can be as present as wet marshmallow, but it enpowers instead of declawing.

"I am already so deep in the abyss that as long as I achieve my goal, I can sink in deeper — since there is no going back."

Despair turned into a weapon to wield against everyone and itself, basically. Cutting the care out of your own heart using the pain (even though it will always linger through the denial), or lashing out to the person you never wanted to hurt through loss of control. 

It is the angst of the 'bully that won't or can't stop'. Burning, moving, tearing everything appart in an effort to escape the screaming anguish... 'shredding fangs'.

🔥 It is wrecking fire.

---

Offer for a third subtype of angst, the bittersweetness (emphasis on bitter) with pain written so raw, it make the audience want to scream. Grief and despair and hurt so *full* it drown everything else. (I love that too. It's an anguish similar to a headache scratching at my mind but I love it). I don't have any name for it yet, as it tend to be more 'did the author manage to convey graphically to the readers all the psychological violence going on' skillset than a trope. Facts can't bring it forward. Only the way of writing can.

[keekity]

choose your tech blonde!

[briefcasejuice]

the relationship between documentary and experimental film is so interesting to me. every experimental filmmaker i've met is also a documentary filmmaker. and vice versa

[inknopewetrust]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐬

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader [wc: 4.2k]

summary: aaron knows how much you love his hands.

warnings: this is filthy and I’m not sorry. Fingering (f), pure fucking smut, aaron definitely talks you through it and is here to please.

He’d put you in a trance one too many times before.

Just… watching the way he moved about. His hands distracted you from the corner of your eyes. Carefully turning and falling upon the pages of his file that laid in his lap above the sheets.

God. You couldn’t focus.

The words on the page before you were nothing but a blur as the veins took focus and the fantasy before unraveled in your mind.

It didn’t take much when a man like Aaron was so casually attractive. Glasses sitting on his nose, hair dried and loose on his head, a white tee worn relaxed around his chest.

And God… those hands. His fingers, the thumbs. What you would do in that moment under the cool lighting of the bedroom, in the heat of the comforter, and the plush of the pillow to have him trace the edges of your face with them. Paint a path along the lines brought by time and catch on the smooth curl of your lips, drawing a wave before wetting one, or two, so gently with the moisture of your mouth.

“Hey,” his voice broke your trance. “You alright?”

No. No, you weren’t fucking alright. Never in the time since you laid eyes on Aaron Hotchner have you been “alright.” He consumed you. He burned the bones of your body and sent the most inappropriate thoughts straight to your brain at a moments notice.

No. You weren’t fine. You were utterly entranced by him and for some celestial reason, you were lucky enough that Aaron felt the same about you. He just… contained it differently.

“Yeah,” you nodded and turned back to your book. “Fine.”

He hummed but continued on with his file. Marking notes in margins or looking down at a photograph for too long, Aaron always brought work home no matter the occasion. His job forced it but he made time. To sit up in bed and enjoy your company even in the silence, it was better than him not being there at all.

Yet your traveling thoughts had already convinced you it wasn’t enough that evening. You needed more. You needed him. And it was so hard to concentrate on the words you’d already forgotten about.

Who were these people? You thought. I’m four hundred pages in and I couldn’t tell anyone who the hell these characters were.

Because you weren’t alright. You were boiling. Adjusting your back against the headboard, your shifting unearthed the comforter and nudged his files enough for him to notice.

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” you responded.

But Aaron wasn’t stupid. You’d been sitting on that page, page four-hundred-and-sixty-two, for fifteen minutes.

The average person spent a range of one to two minutes per page in a typical novel. If he weighed the subject matter as fiction, he knew you could read equivalent to one but if it were for academics or your career, it would lean toward two. This was the former, a work of fiction. Pure fantasy that he knew you enjoyed on the regular even if something was amiss as he accepted your response and let you sit with it instead.

And maybe it was a bit cruel of him to not beckon to the unspoken call, but he could feel your eyes on him.

He needed to hear you say it.

Oh, fuck, you did really want to say it. His hands. Hands. They were there, on his body, like most people had, and they just gripped your heart so suddenly and never shook it away.

Your fingers flitted around the edges of the book as a shallow, barely there exhale escaped your body. You knew he heard it. He didn’t say anything.

So, he flipped to another page and this time. It went upwards instead of to the side and his right hand held the paper up, giving you a better view of the callousness they’d grown into over the years. Worn and tough; they could be what you needed at any time.

A protector, a comfort, a help, or a guide.

You wished badly to feel them upon your skin. Feel him cupping every piece of you or filling you completely as his breath fanned your face and his small, barely there smile encouraged you to relish in his touch.

“What’s the chapter about?” His voice mumbled from beside you.

You broke the stupor again. Eyes flicking down to the pages abruptly to search for an answer. Everything made sense but no sense at all. Who was who, what was what, you had no recollection of the last five hundred words. It caused you to slip the bookmark in and close the cover.

“I think I’m just too tired, I’m not sure.”

He grunted a non-reply. Smug. He knew. He had to of known. How could he not feel the need radiating from you? He couldn’t see the nervous gulp you swallowed.

“I’m going to go to bed. You don’t need to stop.” Moving to place your book on the bedside table, you waved a hand in his general direction and he caught it with his own.

Your head turned swiftly, eying your hand in his as he let his larger one overtake it. Aaron pulled the back of yours to his lips and placed a warm, soft kiss on it. Once, then twice. He didn’t pull it back but side-eyed you while you watched him.

“You know you can ask me anything, right?” His breath was hot on your hand. His lips grazed your smooth skin, feeling the pull of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I know.”

He kissed it again. “And if there was a problem, you’d tell me… yeah?”

“Of course I would.” You furrowed your brows at his suggestion. “Wha—“

“Then tell me what you want from me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A small, gasp of boldness on his behalf that sent the synapses firing every which way. His free hand removed his glasses from his face and set the case file soaring to the floor in a grand “plop” against the wood. Two lights on, his hand in yours, Aaron looked into your eyes and asked again.

“What do you want from me, sweetheart?”

The wiring short circuited. A part of you was baffled at the attentiveness of it. His words were always carefully chosen and spoken in a manner so firm and decisive and you could barely form words. But you glanced down at his hand in yours and he caught you.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

“I’m… distracted. I’m just…”

“Use your words.” He squeezed your hand as if to encourage you but it only made your ridiculous spiraling worse.

“Y-you distract me, that’s all it is. You’re very distracting. All of you.”

“Well you’ve got my attention so I’m glad to have yours,” he teased. His lips found your hand again before he held them to his chest. If you were of power, you could hear his heart beating for you so loudly.

“I don’t know if you realize how much of my attention you have, Aaron.”

His head rested against the backboard and he smiled.

“Why the hands?” He asked and your eyes wanted to break away from his stare.

“Are you profiling me in bed, Mr. Hotchner?” You deflected instead. “I thought you said you’d never do that to me.”

“There isn’t an ounce of profiling when you make it so obvious. You sat on that page for longer than it takes you to drink a cup of coffee and I caught you, twice, but you didn’t even notice.”

Your face was on fire and for what? He loved you, you loved him, and you were far from a puritan when it came to what he’d seen and done to you in that very bed.

Maybe it was the shameless way he felt emboldened then. Perhaps it was the rapidness of your want setting in that made your heart skip more than one beat.

“Then… yes,” you settled, “your hands distract me.”

Aaron nodded. One hand still intertwined with yours, he ran the other over your outstretched arm and back. Back and forth, back and forth to soothe the embarrassment he couldn’t fathom you truly felt about it.

“Do you want me to do something with my hands?”

“Aaron,” you sighed and looked away sheepishly.

“What?” He laughed faintly. “It’s just a question baby, don’t be embarrassed.”

“Oh God,” you nearly wailed instead and wiggled your hand away from him, back to you, switched off the light and in an instant, laid down onto your side away from him.

“Goodnight. I love you,” you finished.

He let out a breathless scoff and shuffled down into a lying position too. The light on his bedside table, however, remained on. As if protruding like spotlights, you could sense his eyes on your back. He said your name smoothly.

“Come on,” he nudged. “You can’t ignore me now.”

“I think I can.”

“What happened to goodnight?”

“It’s starting now,” you reset. “Goodnight.”

“I’m not tired and I don’t think you are either. Come on, turn around.”

You huffed, but not in anger. More in an, “I’m so pathetic in my emotions that it feels so awkward to vocalize what I want” way. It was a product of womanhood—the layered shame of saying or acting upon what you want. How it’s lewd or improper to be vocal in bed, or to be vocal about how you want your partner to please you.

Aaron had never made you feel ashamed for wanting things.

He set his boundaries, you set yours, and together you found a balance that kept you both happy and satisfied but there were still times that the old feeling of inept muteness riddled you.

You turned over onto your back anyway.

He was already on his side and waiting for you. The hair on his head gradually fell in the direction of the mattress as he quickly scanned over your face beneath the shadow of what he could see.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop profiling me?”

“I will once you start telling me what’s going on.”

Your eyes bounced around every bit of him that was exposed. His face, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, the hand you could see, his torso. Then you glanced around him and shook your head against the pillow.

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s nothing!”

“Distraction is one thing but you’re on another planet.”

Turning again to look away from him, you stared at the ceiling as you settled into the bed on your back. He shuffled closer and you closed your eyes tightly as the feel of him hovering in your space overtook your senses.

“Sweetheart,” Aaron’s voice carried a length of warmth within words.

“It’s embarrassing,” you moaned dramatically. Your fingers covering your eyes and Aaron fought a smile at your distress. He pried them off your face, cupping your cheek gently with one of his hands.

The way he looked at you… how could you ever be embarrassed to say what you want? He knows how you love him, and he you. There is nothing you could say that would make him turn away or cast you aside. This was it. It’s the world he crafted and drew space for you within it beside him at the center.

You kissed his palm softly.

“I am here to bend at your will,” he sounded so poetic. Who knew Aaron had it in him? “And if you need me for something that you want, take it. Take it from me and let me provide.”

“Fine,” you huffed and forced the nerves to the back burner. “You know what I want?”

“What do you want?” He asked once more.

“I want you to touch me.” Aaron moved closer, head hovering above yours. “Make me feel something, Aaron, and I don’t want to think about anything else but you.”

He leaned in, nose bumping yours. “Yes ma’am.”

Aaron’s lips met yours slowly. A barely there touch of his lips to yours as he felt the waters around him. His hand cupped your face, while the other rested with a tight grip at the bottom of where your breast met your ribs. He gripped the fabric of your shirt as he titled your head to better angle you to him.

His mouth met yours again but this time madly. Determined to make you feel something more than just a peppering of love through his passing, but a permanent sting of his presence. You breathed through him; aching to his touch and melding to his body in urgency at his kiss. You returned it as ardently. Lips molding together like a puzzle.

You placed your hand atop his on your cheek. Tracing the raised veins and light pattering of hair that rested at the base along his wrist. He was so firm and adroit.

And you took delight in it. Shuddering to the point of your chest emitting a splutter, Aaron took your hand and guided it up the bed above your head. You opened up for him. His tongue slipping into your mouth with ease at your malleable lure. Both hands grabbed at you tightly, feeling bits of you from palm to chest.

The coarse hand on your chest wandered with knowledge beknownst to only him. A granted privilege of the passage of time and the trust you’ve given him. To explore and caress in curated touches that leveled you to the ground—Aaron being the one to raise you to the peak again.

He tracked his hand along your torso to feel you breathe. You’re here. You’re wanting him. It took in the fabric of your clothes and bunched them into his fist as the sensation of its removal marvel at the skin of your stomach. It fell into the underside, hidden by the clothes and traveled back up to your breasts that pebbled with anticipation.

Over your breast, his thumb glided over your nipple tenderly as his lips separated from yours. Your hot breaths colliding while a pleased look washed over his face. Aaron did it again, palming rougher at the flesh and took note of the way your shoulder rolled as you careened into him, legs knocking into his and hand straining against the one that held you to the mattress.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” He rumbled.

He let go of your hand. Designing a new path to the back of his head. You ran your hands along his arms, over his biceps and cradled his head into your hands. Your fingers carded through his short hair, fanning away the strays that laid loose on his forehead. He was so close, so warm in his caging of your body that all you could think of was him.

Him. Aaron. And nothing but him.

Your teeth caught on your lip as you smiled up at him softly. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Kiss me, Aaron.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He leaned down once more and knew that his lips were sending you to euphoria. The fluttering of your chest seemed to burst. Your hands weaved into his short hair to feel every bit of him as he devoured you. A bolt of electricity shot through you; Aphrodite’s fountain exploding in rejoicing elation.

His lips were soft. Hungry, but careful with every tilt and turn of his head as the pressure of him above and holding you was pushing you into the mattress. Aaron’s tongue long breeched your lips and the teeth that protected against his most valued actions. And when he retreats, he’s rewarded with a pull of his bottom lip between your teeth, letting him linger in your space for a moment longer before separating again.

Aaron loved the feel of your body beneath his fingertips. The plush of your hips and sides and legs. Everything intoxicated him with an irresistible urge to have you any way, every way, until the end of time. His hand worked along your stomach, traveling low to the crux of where your leg perched under the covers.

“Are you gonna keep fondling me like a teenager or do something about it?” You broke the air with a content, yet pushing, sigh.

“You told me to touch you, then to kiss you.” Aaron’s nose traced the line of your jaw as you extended you neck with the recline of your head. “I need more than just a visual offering.”

He laid a whisper of a kiss on the column of your neck.

“You’ve gotta tell me.”

But you couldn’t find the right words because every time you thought them, they sounded… so…

“What if I just showed you myself?”

His eyes met yours curiously. “Yourself?”

You nodded, taking the hand on your stomach and bringing his fingertips to your lips. “I can lead you there. You just have to trust me that it’s what I want.”

As you spoke, the tips of his fingers caught on your bottom lip and pulled down lightly before it sprung back with a new sheen of saliva daubing it.

“Whatever you want.” And he meant it.

You guided his middle finger into your mouth without breaking eye contact. His pupils blown wide, you swirled your tongue around his digit before releasing it back out slowly. Then, you took his ring finger and did the same. Wetting two of his long, thick fingers to prime what was already going to be a welcome encounter.

You slipped his ring finger out of your mouth and directed his hand below the sheets. A man with lesser control would have forced them away, ripping them off the bed to watch his ministrations. Aaron didn’t. He watched your face. The pure, determined stare you kept with him as he breached your sleep shorts and the glaringly lack of panties that his fingertips brushed. You led him straight to you. Barely a gasp left your mouth at his feather touch gliding along the already slicked skin and feeling the most vulnerable parts. But he knew them as well as he knew himself. The gentle caress of skin, the glide of those two fingers casting the shape of your folds sent synapses firing greater than before.

You sucked in a shallowed inhale.

Aaron teased you. Rubbing those two damp fingers along the edges of your cunt at the slight twitch of your body. He saw the shaking breaths, the incline of your hips into his hand. With a growing pressure of four fingers, he dragged them slowly, in a elliptic motion once, twice, and a third for good measure. They gathered the growing wetness—realizing quickly there was no need for the lube in the bedside drawer—and used it to glide his thick fingers around a now-aching clit.

One of your hands folded tightly over the sheets and grasped it hard in your palm while the other latched onto his outstretched arm beside you. It was half holding him up, straining the muscles of his shoulders as he worked two fronts.

“Fuck,” your voice wavered at a wave of pleasure taking over.

“You want me to talk you through it?” He murmured.

“Yes please.”

His fingers slid down and back up. He watched you carefully, waging what he wanted to say and what he knew you wanted to hear. The two fingers that you had taken into your mouth worked low to open you up—a feathered touch at your entrance as his thumb stayed above, putting a consistent pressure on your clit.

“Jesus,” his voice was barely a whisper. It was a hymn only you could hear and meant only for you. “You’re so wet.”

You hummed two different octaves as he pushed his two fingers into your slick pussy. First knuckle deep, Aaron was tight even now. He pulled back and circled where he had just been to spread the wetness along your lips. He guided them in again, deeper than before.

“I know you think about this,” Aaron said. His thumb picked up in pace as his two fingers curled into the most plush spot.

Your back arched toward him. Legs threatening to close in, Aaron clicked his tongue and shook his head. Eyes baring every selfless emotion across his soul while he nearly cooed.

“No, no, no,” he repeated. “Gotta leave those open for me.”

“I know,” you groaned, nails digging into his forearm. You withered at his determined pace. Shoulders tensing and releasing when they hit just right.

“You think about my hands all the time,” Aaron continued on. “Staring at them when I grab my coffee, when I read in bed… you imagine them at work and in the way I hold my gun. You think about when they’d gather your hair as you suck my cock.”

“Well,” you could barely form a coherent sentence as the hormones went straight to your brain, “maybe stop making them look so fucking hot.”

“I’m just existing, baby… that’s all your mind’s doing.”

“Not when—oh,” you careened. He flattened his fingers and drove them deeper. Your toes curled at the feeling of his cock straining in his boxers against your leg.

“Shh,” he encouraged. “Let’s focus on you, hm? You’re doing so well.”

He continued to pulse his fingers in and out, in and out, and all you could think about is how lost you were in him. Utterly captivated by a man who kept himself so controlled and formal until the door was closed and the tie loosened.

“I think about you too,” he said. “How pretty your eyes are, and when you smile at me so tired but don’t care because you just want to sit with me. I think about how lucky I am.”

And your heart swelled just as much as the blood pumping and spiraling elsewhere.

“That you’re too good for me but let me do these things to you. You’re so beautiful like this.”

The hand that was clutching onto his forearm moved quickly to the edge of his tee on his bicep and tugged him down. Aaron could feel how close you were getting.

He could see it in your eyes. The clouded over enamored vision that peered back at his appreciative ones.

“I think about how you feel tight around my fingers,” he spoke on your lips. “God, you’re so tight.”

You whined. Aaron picked up his speed.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead against yours as you wrapped a loose arm around his shoulder. Aaron’s body pressed into yours sideways and his erection’s bulge begged for you to take more than just his fingers. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“Aaron.” Desperate, you squeezed his shoulder.

“You’re holding out on me,” he profiled. “I can feel how badly you want to come, baby. I want to feel it too.”

You nodded and he left a single kiss at the edge of your mouth as he drove his fingers to the end of their own road. A blinding, body-stilling peak hit you like a ton of bricks. Cascading from the place where he remained, a firework exploded into a million colors and sent your the muscles in your body into overdrive. An instant overstimulation; Aaron rode the wave of your orgasm with you.

Face etched in a brilliant awe of what your body could give him without feeling the need of his own release to know it had been a job well done. His fingers brought you down. Slowly stroking out until you were empty of him and all that was left was his thumb on your clit.

Your finish on his fingers found home in the cotton of your pajama bottoms as Aaron’s hand re-emerged and pulled everything back into place.

You closed your eyes at him putting you back together. In minutes, he’d go get a washcloth from the bathroom and grab a new pair of bottoms for you to be comfortable in. Aaron would let you sit with yourself and take from him what comfort you needed to slow the rate of your heart. He’d ignore your incessant asking about going down on him in return because in truth, he may have felt it beneficial but he didn’t need it.

He wanted to please you. He wanted to give you something that you could imagine when he wasn’t there to provide.

So, he’d lay back down and shuffle under the covers before leaning over to turn off the light. His excitement would settle and then he’d turn over to hold you closely with an image of you content and happy replaying in his mind for safe keeping.

This was a version of you he loved. He loved them all, but when you could be honest with him and tell him what you wanted, even passively, Aaron knew that you trusted him—and my, was it all worth it.

a/n: i'm also needy b/c i'm a fanfic writer so... penny for your thoughts? or your likes? or your reblogs?

Ps. There’s a misspelled “too” somewhere and I can’t find it so forgive me.

[calypso-rt]

bookworm II

-> blurbs pt. I

-> rafe x bookworm!reader

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. A fluke. A strange alignment of the universe that had Rafe Cameron showing up at your bookstore every single day.

Then, the excuses started.

“Yeah, uh—I lost my bookmark. Need a new one.”

You arched a brow. “You bought one yesterday.”

“Yeah, well. Lost that one too.”

The next day, it was:

“Do you guys sell… maps?”

“…Maps?”

“Yeah. Like, of the world. Or South Carolina. Or, actually, just this bookstore. So I don’t get lost in here. Y’know. Again.”

You smirked. “You’ve been in here at least a dozen times, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but, like. What if I forget where the classics section is?”

You tilted your head toward the large sign hanging from the ceiling labeled Classics.

Rafe nodded like that was irrelevant.

And then there was your favorite excuse:

“Yeah, so, uh—my dad told me I need to um…read more.”

Your lips twitched. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah. Real big on literacy.”

“…Ward Cameron?”

“Yep.”

“The same Ward Cameron who tried to build a golf course over the town library?”

Rafe coughed. “Uh. Yeah. He’s changed.”

It was obvious. He wasn’t here for the books.

He was here for you.

You never called him out on it, though. Not when he’d come in pretending to browse, only to spend an hour leaning against the counter, talking to you about anything, or, sometimes, nothing.

Not when he bought The Odyssey and then asked you, dead serious, “Is this, like… a pirate book?”

Not when he sat on the floor of the poetry aisle, flipping through a book like he actually understood it, just because it was your favorite section.

And definitely not when he smiled at you—soft, lopsided, like he had nowhere else in the world he’d rather be, and asked, “What should I read next?”

Because, at the end of the day?

You kinda liked that he kept coming back.

...

“You don’t have to help, you know.”

“I want to help,” Rafe said, rolling up the sleeves of his absurdly expensive button-down, like he was about to perform some impossible manual labor.

You squinted at him. “Do you… even have a job?”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Not important.”

You had your doubts, but you handed him a stack of books to shelve anyway. Simple task. Foolproof.

Five minutes later, you turned around to see him absolutely butchering the organization system.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

“Why is Pride and Prejudice in the True Crime section?”

He turned back to the shelf, frowning. “Oh. That’s my bad. I just, y’know, Mr. Darcy? He’s kinda criminal. The way he was actin’.”

You sighed. “And Where the Crawdads Sing?”

“…Nature documentary?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “That’s fiction, Rafe.”

“Okay, well who decided that?”

The next disaster struck when he insisted on manning the register.

A sweet old lady handed him a book, and you watched as he flipped it over, looked at the price tag, and said, “Yeah, uh… how’s twenty bucks sound?”

You smacked his arm. “Rafe. The register does that for you.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He punched in the numbers dramatically, furrowing his brow. “Beep. Boop. Okay, that’ll be… twelve dollars and ninety-nine cents.”

The woman blinked. “That’s the full price, dear. Don’t I get the senior discount?”

Rafe’s face scrunched. He turned to you, looking genuinely distraught. “Babe, we can’t just rob old ladies. That’s messed up.”

You groaned. “It’s built into the system, Rafe.”

He looked at the register, squinting at the screen like it had personally betrayed him. Then, sighing dramatically, he pressed some buttons.

“Okay, ma’am, with the discount, that’ll be… uh…” He turned to you and whispered, “How much is twelve minus ten percent?”

You just laughed, shaking your head.

And the worst part? You still didn’t kick him out. You let him stay.

Because even when he was the most useless bookstore assistant to ever exist, he looked so damn proud every time he got something right, like when he stacked books into a perfectly symmetrical pile, or when he finally figured out how to use the barcode scanner.

And, okay. Maybe you liked seeing him here. Maybe you liked the way he leaned against the counter, twirling a pen between his fingers, looking at you like you were the best thing he’d ever found in a bookstore.

Maybe you liked him.

Just a little.

...

The second you heard loud, obnoxious laughter from the back corner of the shop, you knew it was trouble.

You peeked around a bookshelf, your stomach sinking. A group of guys were shoving books back onto shelves backwards, tossing paperbacks to each other like footballs. One of them had the audacity to rest his drink on top of your classics display.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your pants. “Hey, guys,” you called, forcing a polite smile. “Could you please be a little more careful with the books?”

One of them barely glanced at you, smirking. “Relax, sweetheart. We're real careful.”

You hated when men called you that.

Well, most men.

Another guy laughed, nudging his friend. “We’re just here for Rafe Cameron. Heard he hangs out here now. Figured we’d see what the big deal is.”

Your jaw clenched. Of course.

Then, like divine intervention, the bell above the door jingled.

And there he was.

Rafe Cameron, walking in with that lazy, effortless confidence, except the second he spotted them, his whole demeanor shifted. His jaw ticked. His shoulders squared.

“Yo,” one of the guys called. “There he is! Dude, what are you even doin’ in a bookstore, man? Thought you were out crashin' boats or whatever.”

Rafe didn’t laugh. Didn’t even acknowledge them.

Instead, his gaze landed right on you.

“You okay?” His voice was low, rough. Protective.

Your stomach flipped, but you nodded. “They’re just messing up the shelves.”

That was all Rafe needed to hear.

He turned, stepping up to the group with a slow, deliberate swagger. “You break somethin’ in here?” His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

The guy with the drink shrugged. “Relax, man, it’s just books.”

Rafe’s expression darkened. “Put the drink down.”

The guy blinked. “What?”

“Put. It. Down.”

Slowly, the guy obeyed, setting the cup on a table. Rafe stepped in even closer, his voice dropping lower. “Now pick up every single book you messed up.”

One of the guys scoffed. “Bro, what’s the big deal? Since when do you give a shit about—”

“I give a shit,” Rafe snapped. “And if you don’t, then you can get the hell out.”

Silence.

The guys glanced at each other, clearly not expecting this Rafe Cameron. They expected the reckless party boy, the guy who didn’t care about anything.

Not the guy who was standing in the middle of a tiny bookstore, ready to start a fight over misplaced books.

One of them grumbled something under his breath, but they started fixing the shelves. Sloppy, but you’d take it.

When they left, shoulders hunched, trying to laugh it off, Rafe turned back to you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You just stared at him for a second, crossing your arms. “I didn’t know you were my personal security now.”

Rafe smirked. “What, you think I’m gonna let some jackasses ruin our bookstore?”

You blinked. Our bookstore.

Your face felt warm.

“…You put Pride and Prejudice in True Crime last week.”

“I stand by that.”

...

At first, you didn’t notice.

Rafe would sit at the counter, flipping through books as you worked, occasionally grumbling when he came across a word that was too long for his liking.

But then you started finding them.

Books left open on the counter, always on a page with some long, complicated passage, marked up in that messy, boyish scrawl of his.

You found the first one in a well-worn copy of Wuthering Heights.

“This dude is insane. No way she actually likes him. (Not that I relate)”

Then, in Pride and Prejudice, right under one of Mr. Darcy’s confessions:

“This is the most dramatic way to say ‘I like you’ I’ve ever seen. Might use it tho.”

And your favorite, scribbled in the margins of The Picture of Dorian Gray:

“Would I sell my soul for eternal youth? Idk, would you still like me if I had gray hair?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing every time.

Finally, one evening, as you locked up, you found a copy of Jane Eyre left open right on the counter. A single sentence underlined.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you.”

And right next to it, in his handwriting:

“Yeah. What he said.”

A/N: my fav duo :(

[ellewritesx]

teach me slowly

Summary: Harry doesn't mind waiting, as long as it's you he's waiting for. a harry styles x inexperienced!reader series

Warnings: early stages of a relationship, age gap, sexual advances, lots of talk about virginity and sex, that's it for now

Based on: this ask!

A/N: hi lovelies! this is the new series i'll be writing now that we've parted ways with the sugar, baby series for now (sobbing). huge shoutout to anon who submitted the request this is based on. while exaggerating things for fiction is fun, i tried to also be relatively realistic about virginity. tag list is open :) this first part is, as always with my series, kind of a prologue to the story. have fun x

Word Count: 2,529

...

The first time you stopped him, it was subtle. A hand against his chest, a breathless ''maybe not tonight,'' and a kiss that lingered just long enough to prove you still wanted him, just not like that, not right now. He didn't push, didn't ask questions, just smiled against your lips and said, ''Alright, love. Another time.''

It wasn't the last time it happened.

You've been seeing Harry for a few months now, longer than you expected when he'd first spotted you across a room you didn't belong in, some industry party you'd been dragged to by a friend of a friend, too many faces and too many flashes. Harry was in the spotlight, the center of attention, you were hidden away in a dark corner, and yet his eyes managed to find yours through the sea of faces.

When he walked over, laid-back, confident, too pretty for his own good, you expected it to be fleeting. Maybe flirtation, a drink or two, something to roll your eyes about later.

But then he asked for your number. And not even two days later, he actually used it. And now here you are, tucked under his arm with his heartbeat thudding steadily beneath your ear.

It's late. A slow Friday night, the familiar sounds of reruns of Friends filling Harry's apartment as you're curled into his side, your fingers absently tracing a pattern against the slope of his ribs. The scent of cheap takeout still lingers in the air, mixing with the cologne he wore earlier, now faded into the cotton of his worn-in hoodie.

You feel it when his hand shifts. When it goes from lazily draped around your waist to something more deliberate, fingers tracing a purposeful path under the hem of your sweatshirt.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, making you smile at the faint taste of wine still lingering on his tongue. Your breath hitches, deepening the kiss, one hand fisting in his shirt. His hands graze your bare skin, curling at your waist, pressing you closer to him.

But the moment they start to travel higher, sliding up your midriff toward your chest like it's second nature, your stomach drops, and before you've fully thought it through, your hand slides over his and stops him, gently, but definitively.

''Sorry,'' you whisper against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut so you don't have to see the disappointment likely flashing across his face. ''I… Sorry, can we not tonight?''

Harry opens his eyes, confusion etched into his features like he was just abruptly woken from a peaceful dream. He blinks down at you, clearly startled by your tone. ''Yeah, of course,'' he says, pulling his hand back immediately. ''You okay?''

You nod quickly ''Yeah. Just… tired.''

It's not a lie. But it's not the whole truth either. You feel him hesitate, like he wants to press, wants an explanation, answers, but chooses not to. Just kisses the top of your head and settles back into the cushions, shifting so you're still cuddled into his side.

The silence stretches between you, not uncomfortable, but different now. Tense. Loaded. You let it sit there, unsure how to break it. Not yet, at least. But soon. You have to.

It takes you a few more minutes, waiting for the episode to end, for Harry's breathing to even out slightly, having willed away his arousal. When you turn your head to look at him, he's watching you with the kind of quiet patience you've come to recognize.

''I need to tell you something,'' you say finally. Your voice doesn't shake, but your heart is beating erratically. You sit up on the couch, just enough to give yourself some room to breathe. ''I've been meaning to. I just... I didn't know how.''

Harry sits back a little, his hand moving to lightly rest on your leg, calming you. Concern flickers across his eyes, focused frown on his face, his curiosity piqued. ''Okay. What is it?''

You push your hair behind your ear, fingers suddenly clammy. ''I've... I've noticed you've tried to take things further a few times now. And I always stop you.''

His eyes stay on yours, steady, unreadable. ''Yeah. I've noticed. I don't mind waiting, love.''

You inhale. ''It's not that I don't want to. It's just… I've never actually done it before.''

For a moment, Harry says nothing. His brows knit together, like he's processing, like the words don't quite click at first. Then something shifts. Not judgment, not disgust, just genuine surprise.

''You mean… you're a virgin?''

You nod once, jaw tight. Your heart stutters, bracing yourself for his inevitable rejection, already regretting bringing it up. ''Yeah.''

There's a pause. A long one.

But then Harry exhales, a soft smile tugging at his lips, head ducking to meet your gaze. ''Okay,'' he says softly. ''That's okay.''

You blink at him. ''You're not weirded out?''

He smiles, kind. ''No, of course not. I just… I wasn't expecting it. You're so confident. So sure of yourself. I guess I assumed…''

''That I'd done all of that already?'' you finish for him, smiling weakly.

He shrugs. ''Yeah. Doesn't change anything, though.''

Your bite your lip. ''You're older than me. More experienced. I thought maybe you'd be… disappointed.''

''I'm not,'' he tells you firmly, his hand finding yours, leaving no room for your doubts and fears.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling the warmth of his raw honesty settle somewhere deep in your chest.

Then, a beat later, his voice drops slightly, light-hearted but still earnest. ''So… would you want me to be your first?''

You look up at him, fidgeting with your fingers anxiously. ''I don't know. But if I did… would you want to be?''

His eyes search yours. ''If you decided you wanted that, I'd be honored.''

You sigh in relief. After the initial heaviness of the moment has passed and you've both found your way back into the soft cushions of the couch, it's quiet for a while. Not the kind of silence that stretches with discomfort, but something gentler. Pensive.

His fingers trace idle shapes over the back of your hand, and every now and then you catch him glancing at you like he's thinking about saying something, but keeps deciding against it.

Until finally, he does.

''Can I ask you something?'' His voice is soft, almost sheepish. Like he's worried you might shut down again.

You turn to face him, tugging the throw blanket around your legs a little higher. ''Of course.''

His thumb slides along your knuckles, thoughtful. ''Are you saving yourself for marriage? Or was it just... situational?''

The question doesn't surprise you. You were expecting it. Still, there's something about him saying it aloud that makes your chest ache. It's the explanation people seem to instantly assume, like there couldn't be any other possible reason to not want to have sex in your early twenties. The prejudice bothers you sometimes.

You shake your head with a chuckle. ''Not marriage, no. I just…'' You pause, choosing your words carefully. ''I never found someone I wanted to give it to. It never felt right. It always felt like… I don't know, something I'd be giving away for the wrong reason.''

Harry nods like that makes perfect sense, like you've just confirmed something he suspected about you all along. That you don't move through the world withholding things, you move through it protecting them. ''You wanted it to matter.''

''Yeah.'' You smile faintly. ''I guess I figured that the first time should be something I remember fondly. Not something I regretted five minutes after.''

''That makes sense,'' he says, reaching up to brush a fallen strand of hair out of your face. ''I kind of figured something was holding you back. I just didn't know if it was because you were nervous, or waiting for something specific… or someone specific.''

Your cheeks flush. ''I guess it's both.''

A smile spreads across his face, slow and reverent. ''And you think that... might be me?''

You glance away, trying not to look too embarrassed. ''Maybe,'' you admit quietly, before glancing at him, raising a brow. ''And you? First time with someone special?''

He huffs out a laugh, scratching at the side of his jaw. ''Not exactly. I was young, dumb, and too eager to impress someone older than me. Regret's not the word, but I wouldn't say it was magical.''

You both laugh softly at that, and the tension that had crept in between your ribs eases again. There's a pause. He meets your eyes carefully, trying to phrase his question without making you squirm. ''Have you ever... touched yourself?''

The heat rises to your cheeks instantly, not from shame, but from the sheer boldness of the question. Your relationship with Harry is still relatively new, and for a moment, you don't know how to respond.

Your eyes flicker down to the curve of his smile, cheeky but careful, like he's testing the waters. You tuck your knees up slightly under the blanket. ''I mean... Yeah, of course.''

That earns you a grin. He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you properly, his other hand rubbing up and down your arm soothingly. ''And? Has it ever felt... good?''

Your eyes narrow a little, teasing. ''Are you asking if I've had an orgasm before?''

''Yeah,'' he admits, unabashed now. ''Not trying to be weird. I just want to know where we're starting from.''

You shrug, a bit self-conscious. ''I think I've had a few? But like… nothing crazy. I don't know if it's something wrong with me or—''

''Hey,'' he cuts you off gently, hand brushing your hip. ''There's nothing wrong with you. You know that, right?''

You nod, but it feels like a reflex, not something you fully believe yet. He must sense it, because he dips forward and presses a kiss to your shoulder, warm and grounding. Then another, just beneath your jaw. ''It's harder for women, y'know? But it'll get better. Some things just take time. Patience. And the right person. I'm glad you've tried.''

You snort. ''Why? Would it have been a red flag if I'd said no?''

He chuckles, pressing another sweet kiss against your skin before pulling back. ''No, not a red flag. I just think it's important. Knowing your own body. Knowing what feels good.''

There's something so matter-of-fact in the way he says it that it makes the conversation feel less intimidating. Less taboo. You inhale deeply, a weight lifted off your shoulders now, and you run your fingers along his biceps to ground yourself.

''I haven't explored much. It felt... underwhelming. But with the way everyone raves about sex, I must be doing something wrong.''

His thumb stills over your hand, his expression softening. ''That's okay. It'll be different when you're with someone else. With me.''

You glance at him, curious. ''How so?''

He shifts toward you, arm slung over the back of the couch now. ''It's a mix of things. Trust. Communication. Timing. Like… it's not just friction, right? It's being seen. It's vulnerability. Intimacy. And if that isn't there, if you don't feel comfortable, it's hard to get there.''

Your stomach flutters at the way he says it, so attentive, so considerate. ''That's kind of what I'm scared of. That it'd be awkward. Or disappointing.''

Harry's voice dips lower, more serious now. ''It doesn't have to be. Especially if you're honest. If we are.''

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smile bashfully, ''That's what I want, I think. Just... honesty. I don't want to have to pretend I know everything. Because I don't, and I don't want to have to act, to perform.''

He nods, the corner of his mouth tugging into something fond. ''I don't want you to do that either.''

You settle into the cushions, knee brushing his thigh. ''Have you ever been with someone inexperienced before?''

He thinks for a second, then shakes his head. ''Not really, no. I mean, I've been with people who had less experience than me, sure. But never… never someone completely new to it.''

Your eyes find his again. ''Does that scare you?''

He gives you a look, a lopsided smile on his face. ''No. If anything, it makes me want to be better. I want to make it good for you.''

That does something to you, sends a warmth crawling up your spine. ''You're already doing everything right, Harry.''

''Am I?'' he teases, bumping his shoulder with yours.

You laugh shyly. ''Yeah. You ask questions. You listen. You make me feel… like it's okay to not have all the answers yet.''

''It is okay,'' he reiterates.

You smile gratefully, but your insecurity creeps back in quickly. Your voice is timid when you speak again. ''So you don't think it's weird? That I haven't… done any of it?''

''Not even a little,'' he says, cupping your face gently, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. ''I think it's admirable, actually. You're twenty-three, and you've gone this long without letting someone touch you, just because nobody earned it? That's sexy as hell.''

You huff out a laugh, surprised. ''Really?''

''Really,'' he says, lips quirking. ''It means you know your worth. You know what you want. I wish I'd had your strength of will at that age.''

You smile gratefully, tension slowly uncoiling from your shoulders. ''Thanks. I don't always feel that way.''

Harry dips his head down, pressing a short, sweet kiss against your lips, effectively shutting up your mind. He sinks back into the couch with a satisfied smirk, cushions dipping under his weight.

You swallow nervously. ''Hey, just out of curiosity. What… what would you have done if I'd told you I was waiting for marriage?''

He raises a brow. ''You mean, like… completely off-limits?''

You nod.

He considers that. ''I would've respected it. Obviously. But I probably would've asked what else we could do instead. Would still want to be close to you, in whatever way you'd be comfortable with.''

You nod. ''I think that's the thing. I do want to be close. I just… I want it to mean something.''

He hums in response. There's a peaceful silence then. You're both thinking, processing. It's the kind of silence that only happens when you feel truly at ease with someone.

''So… if we did want to start exploring things… slowly…''

He grins, just a little. ''Want me to teach you, huh?''

You roll your eyes. ''Don't make it a thing.''

He lifts both hands in surrender, chuckling softly. ''We'll go at your pace. Whatever that looks like. You just tell me, yeah?''

You nod, the corners of your mouth tugging into a fond smile. ''Thanks, Harry. For being cool about all this.''

He scoffs. ''I'm not being cool,'' he says. ''I'm being decent. What kind of idiots have you been surrounding yourself with?''

That earns him a playful shove, but he catches your wrist and kisses the inside of it, right where your pulse flutters at the touch. His eyes flick up to yours, warm and steady.

''Whenever you're ready, love,'' he says softly.

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

general tag list @2601-london @mads3502 @angeldavis777 @run-for-the-hills @postsexfistbump @hobireasns @madilee7802 @spinninc @practistyles @qrapejuices @fangirl509east @sstylezzz @hontpwk @lichi-dunkera

...

[pitchsidestories]

After the fall II Jana Fernández x Rugby!Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1711

summary: At a rugby match, Jana’s playful banter with her teammates shifts to worry when her girlfriend is seriously injured on the field. requested

author's note: Hi, we had so much fun writing this opposites-attract romance and hope you love reading it as much as we loved creating it! 💗💗

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

The first thing Jana noticed in the stadium was the fans. There weren’t as many as at her football games, but they were excited, loud, and passionate. Pride surged in her chest; she felt the inevitable sense that women’s rugby would soon see the same kind of rise that women’s football had.

She took her seat, looking out on the pitch, ignoring the chatter of her teammates. Only when they finally sat down beside to her, her attention shifted.

“As someone who comes from the motherland of rugby, let me give you all quick breakdown of the rules.”, Lucy said, relishing the moment.

Ona rolled her eyes at her girlfriend: “Lucy.”

Jana chuckled and turned to the English defender: “Are you really trying to mansplain the game that my girlfriend plays? This isn’t my first rugby match, Lucia.”

To emphasise, she dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder, even though she secretly loved playing into those clashing stereotypes.

Bruna’s eyes widened as she sucked in a breath: “Oof, burn.”

The stunned look on Lucys face was priceless, even if it only lasted a few seconds.

“I’m not mansplaining…”, Lucy started to mansplain but then hesitated, seemingly realising that she was doing exactly that again.

“Wait, you’re dating one of them?”, she asked.

Ona shot her girlfriend an accusatory look: “Tsk, Lucy. I definitely told you that.”

“No, you didn’t.”, Lucy protested.

“Yes, I did. Like three times already!”, Ona insisted.

Jana interrupted before things got out of hand: “Before this turns into a proper fight, let me come back to your question, Lucy. Yes, I am dating a rugby player.”

“Great, now I know that too.”, Lucy said, smirking.

“Do you have any more questions on that topic or can we enjoy the game now?”, Jana asked, eyes already drifting back to the pitch where your team just walked out.

With a mischievous grin, Lucy replied : “Oh, I have a lot more questions, trust me.”

“Hey, Mario and I are back with the snacks.”, Laia interrupted, arms full of chips and popcorn. She and Mario squished past their teammates, handing out food as they went.

“Perfect timing, the game is about to start.”, Bruna grinned, happily grabbing a bag of popcorn from her.

Jana smiled: “Finally.”

The group went quiet as the rugby team huddled for the kick-off. But the silence didn’t last for long.

Lucy leaned over to Jana; eyebrows raised: “So? How did you and rugby girl meet?”

“Long story.”, the younger defender tried to brush it off.

Winking, Mariona replied: “We’ve got time.”

“So, which one is it then? Her? Or her?, the English footballer asked, nodding towards several women she suspected might be the one.

A soft blush coloured Jana’s cheeks as the brunette quietly gestured in your direction:“Her.”

“Nice thighs.”, Lucy remarked, raising her dark eyebrows suggestively, only to receive a nudge from her girlfriend.

Ignoring the teasing tone in the older woman’s voice, your girlfriend glanced at you with a dreamy look: “Yeah… she’s beautiful. And strong.”

“Perfect match.”, Mariona grinned. What she really meant was how lovely it was to see her this happy with someone who clearly meant the world to her.

 A horrified murmur rippled through the stadium as you went down, clearly in pain.

“Woah… what was that?”, Laia stared in shock.

Jana immediately went pale, muttering: “That was a bad tackle.”

“It looks really bad.”, Bruna admitted quietly.

Watching you, always so strong, now needing assistance from the medical team shattered your girlfriend’s heart: “It does… she can’t go on.”

“Jana..”, Ona said gently.

Jana offered her friend a weak smile, trying to reassure her and smooth away the worry etched across her face: “It’s okay.”

“You’re looking a bit pale.”, the Brighton footballer observed with equal concern.

Jana tried to swallow down the fear.: “I’m fine.”

The rest of the match passed in a blur. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t even recall the scoreline by the end, her thoughts were completely consumed by you.

Relief only came when Lucy stated, matter-of-factly: “Game’s over.”

“Do you mind if I…?”, Jana asked, already rising to her feet, her free hand running nervously through her dark hair.

“Go and look after her,” Ona encouraged, her tone full of understanding.

Jana gave a quick word of thanks and was already on her way, heart pounding against her chest.

Meanwhile, you laid there, dosed up on painkillers. Your eyes weren’t quite open, yet you still sensed her presence: “Jana?”

“Hi, amor. How are you? That looked rough.”, she said, kneeling beside you.

You reached up and softly cupped her cheek with your hand: “I’m alright, don’t worry, corazón.”

“Really?”, Jana raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by your reassurances.

You liked that about her despite her girlish appearance, she never took any nonsense from anyone.

Clearing her throat, the rugby physio, Kelly, stepped in and unintentionally broke the moment between the two of you: “She’s on painkillers. It’s a shoulder injury.”

Jana’s breath caught in her throat. A shoulder injury? Her mind raced through worst-case scenarios: rehab, surgery, time away from the pitch. She loves the game. How long will she be out? Will she be okay mentally with all this?

“Oh no.”, she whispered, the weight of it sinking in. Her gaze dropped to your hand resting on the stretcher, and she instinctively reached out to hold it. I should be strong for her. She’s the one hurt. But why does this feel like my chest is caving in?

You gave her fingers a faint squeeze, as if you knew exactly what was running through her mind. And maybe you did.

“It’s not a problem. I can handle it.”, you assured her as nonchalantly as you could manage despite your injury.

Jana gave you a soft smile, her thumb grazing the skin of your cheek: “You need to rest and recover, amor.”

“Your girlfriend’s got a point there.”, Kelly cut in, unimpressed by your display of affection.

You knew that when the physios’ jaw was set and her forehead creased like that, she was fully focused on her players' wellbeing.

Jana nodded at you: “I know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, I know you do.”, you replied, thinking back to the times you'd seen Jana on the other side of an injury. She was always a full-on professional.

“At least your girls won.”, she added, swiftly changing the topic.

You were already off the pitch, having your shoulder assessed by Kelly when the game ended. But you still heard your team’s celebration echoing into the treatment room.

“They did.“, you smiled, then asked: “Did your girls enjoy the game?”

“I think they did.”, Jana confirmed.

“That’s good.”, you said, smiling even wider.

“Would you like to meet them?”, your girlfriend asked, exchanging a quick glance with Kelly.

You nodded, excitedly: “Yes, of course.”

“Only if you feel okay enough.”, Jana added quickly, a note of worry in her voice.

You pushed yourself off the treatment table with one arm, your other one strapped tight in a shoulder brace at your side.

“I’m okay. Only a bit giggly from the painkillers.”, you joked.

Jana rolled her eyes playfully: “Oh god.”

Janas friends and teammates were waiting outside the stands. You smiled politely as you approached.

Lucy studied you openly, sweeping from your face to your feet and back up again. A smirk tugged at her lips: “So this is Janas girl?”

“I am.”, you confirmed.

“The thighs look even more impressive up close.”, she commented, glancing down at your quads, still dressed in dark blue shorts. You'd almost forgotten you were still in your kit.

For a second, you were taken aback, wondering if that was a normal thing to say or if the painkillers were messing with you. Whatever it was, you decided to take it as a compliment. At the same time, Ona elbowed Lucy sharply in the side.

“Ouch.”

You grinned, studying Lucy the same way she had studied you: “I could say the same about yours.”

“Thanks.”, she said before turning to your girlfriend: “I like her already, Jana.”

“I knew you would.”, Jana laughed.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you girls.”, you said with a warm smile to your partner’s friends.

“Lovely to meet you too.”, Ona replied kindly.

“How’s your shoulder?”, Bruna asked, her tone laced with concern.

You gave it a moment’s thought before answering honestly: “It feels fine now.”

“That’s good to hear.”, Laia said, visibly relieved. “We were all a bit worried especially Jana when you went down like that.”

As you were all professional athletes, there was a silent understanding that injuries were just as much a part of the game as wins and losses.

You mustered the bravest grin you could and reassured them: “She doesn’t need to worry about me. That’s just rugby.”

Later that evening, when you and Jana were alone in the quiet of your bedroom, she gently cupped your face in her elegant fingers, her eyes searching yours looking past the brave front you’d worn like armour all day.

“Amor… how’s your shoulder really?”, she asked softly.

You hesitated for just a second before admitting: “It hurts a bit.”

“Poor girl.”, your girlfriend murmured, full of empathy.

You let out a small chuckle: “What are you doing?”

“Kissing it better?”, she suggested with a grin, her laughter mingling with yours.

The tenderness in her voice, the warmth in her touch, it wrapped around your heart like a blanket. “Sounds like the perfect remedy.”, you whispered.

“I wish it worked like that.”, the footballer answered, her voice barely above a breath.

You gave her a playful smirk: “Trust me on this.”

“If you say so, it must be true.”, she said, smiling as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“Then kiss me again.”, you asked, your voice tender.

And without a moment’s hesitation, she did softly, lovingly, like it meant everything.

After your fall on the pitch, something shifted in Jana. She realised she had fallen for you deeper than she ever thought possible. It scared her a little, that kind of vulnerability, but it also made her feel more alive, and more certain, than she’d ever been.

She was undeniably in love with you.

[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.

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.2

Chapter Two: God, I’m Actually Invested

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck,

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This chapter has hella fluff and super funny/awkward moments. See you in the next one!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

The shuttle hummed along the narrow roads, and you found yourself squished between Archie and Rebecca, who were already up to no good.  

"So," Archie began, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned closer. "How was breakfast with your roomie?"  

Rebecca chimed in before you could answer, her tone dripping with faux innocence. "Yeah, did Pedro enjoy the toast you so lovingly made for him? Or was it the Nutella that won his heart?"  

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as your cheeks burned. "Guys, please."  

But they weren’t letting you off that easily. Archie grinned, elbowing you lightly. "Oh, come on. You’ve been living a rom-com dream, and we’re just trying to get the highlights."  

Rebecca nudged you with her shoulder, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "Did he do the smolder? You know the one. The gaze that makes people forget how to breathe?"  

You laughed despite yourself, though it came out as more of a nervous squeak. "I don’t even know what you’re talking about."  

Archie gasped dramatically. "Oh, she knows! She definitely knows."  

By the time the shuttle pulled into the lot, your friends had teased you so mercilessly that you wanted to sink into the ground and never resurface. As everyone filed out, you clutched your bag tightly, muttering under your breath, "I’m never speaking to either of you again."  

Rebecca shot you a playful wink as she headed toward her department. "Sure you won’t. See you at lunch, Nutella Queen!"  

The chill of the morning air hit you as you walked toward the security checkpoint, clutching your ID badge. The sprawling Pinewood Studios stretched out before you like a labyrinth, its towering sound stages and bustling crew already alive with activity.  

"Badge, please," the guard said, snapping you out of your thoughts.  

You handed it over, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement flutter in your chest. Once cleared, you stepped inside, the sheer scale of the operation hitting you all at once.  

The first thing you noticed was the controlled chaos—carts loaded with equipment whizzing by, crew members calling out instructions, the smell of fresh paint from recently constructed sets. It was overwhelming in the best way.  

"Alright, team! Let’s get started," Jess Hall, the First AD, called out as she clapped her hands to gather everyone. She had a warm but commanding presence, her headset slung casually around her neck.  

You fell into step with the other production assistants, taking in every detail as Jess led the group on a whirlwind tour of the set.  

"This is the main soundstage," she said, gesturing to a cavernous building where scaffolding and green screens loomed high above the floor. "Props go over there. Catering is outside, past the trailers. And wardrobe is down that corridor—try not to get lost."  

Daniel, the head of props, gave you a quick nod as he walked by, holding a clipboard. "New PA?"  

"Yes," you managed, straightening up.  

"Good. Hope you’re ready to hustle," he said, his tone brisk but not unkind.  

You spent the morning darting from one task to the next—hauling equipment, labeling props, delivering coffee orders. It wasn’t glamorous, but there was something thrilling about being part of the organized chaos.  

At one point, you found yourself standing off to the side, flipping through the day’s call sheet. The sheer number of moving parts was dizzying. But when you glanced up and saw Pedro casually chatting with a director by the monitors, a soft smile on his face, the whirlwind slowed for just a moment.  

Your heart did a little flip.  

"Alright, focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as you quickly returned to your tasks.  

The rest of the day passed in a blur of movement—helping manage background extras, untangling a web of cables, even holding up a light reflector when the gaffer was short-handed.  

By the time lunch rolled around, you were exhausted but strangely energized, a sense of accomplishment settling in as you sat with your friends in the cafeteria.  

Archie plopped down beside you with a tray full of food, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "So, how’s your first day as Pedro Pascal’s shadow?"  

You shot him a glare but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "I’m not his shadow. I’m just… a very busy PA trying to survive her first day."  

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Sure, sure. But he noticed you, didn’t he?"  

You felt your cheeks warm, and your silence only made them laugh harder.  

"God, I hate you both," you muttered, though there was no real malice behind it.  

As you took another bite of your sandwich, you couldn’t help but glance across the room, where Pedro sat with the director and a few cast members. He caught your eye briefly, offering a small, almost imperceptible wave.  

Your stomach flipped again.  

And just like that, you were back to square one—completely flustered and wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.  

After lunch, you found yourself tucked into a quiet corner near the soundstage, the faint hum of set activity surrounding you. Propping the script against your knees, you scanned the pages intently, trying to map out how the scenes being shot here in London would flow before the production moved to Spain. The script’s intricate details and stage directions blurred slightly as you tried to piece it all together, scribbling quick notes in the margins.  

“Hey.”  

The voice startled you, and the script slipped from your hands, fluttering dramatically to the ground. You turned quickly, clutching your chest like it might stop your racing heart.  

“Jesus, Pedro!” you exclaimed, your voice a little too breathless for your liking.  

He grinned, that easy, boyish grin that made your stomach do flips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”  

“Oh, hi,” you mumbled, stepping out of the way instinctively, thinking he was just passing by. Your gaze darted down to the script at your feet, but before you could bend to retrieve it, Pedro was already leaning down to pick it up.  

“You okay?” he asked as he straightened, handing the slightly crumpled pages back to you. He was already dressed for the scene, hair and makeup done to perfection, though you knew the team would fuss over touch-ups throughout the day.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your fingers over the script as though smoothing it out would erase your flustered reaction. “Just, uh, reviewing the scenes for today.”  

Pedro tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his warm brown eyes. “Doing your homework, huh?”  

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to keep up. It’s my first day, and I don’t want to mess anything up.”  

He studied you for a beat, and the weight of his gaze made your cheeks flush. “You’re not going to mess anything up,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re doing great. Everyone can see it.”  

You let out a soft laugh, though your throat felt tight. “You’ve barely seen me all day. How would you know?”  

Pedro’s smile softened, and he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Because you’ve got that look. The one that says you care about getting it right.”  

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were painfully aware of how close he was. The faint scent of his cologne—something warm and woodsy—lingered in the air between you.  

“I... uh...” You trailed off, your brain scrambling for a coherent response.  

Pedro straightened, easing the tension with a light chuckle. “Don’t overthink it, okay? Just take it one task at a time. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”  

“Right. Thanks,” you managed, clutching the script a little tighter.  

“See you out there,” he said with a wink before turning to head toward the set, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your thoughts in a complete jumble. 

As he disappeared around the corner, you exhaled sharply, trying to pull yourself together. “Get it together,” you muttered under your breath. But even as you said it, a small, traitorous smile tugged at your lips.

Matt’s voice cut through the buzz of the set as he called for quiet. The shift was immediate—crew members hushing their conversations and finding their marks. You moved to the side, watching as Pedro, Vanessa Kirby, Joseph Quinn, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach stepped into position. The air seemed to hum with anticipation as the cameras rolled, capturing the scene that unfolded before you.  

It was surreal, seeing them all perform together, their chemistry so natural it blurred the lines between fiction and reality. Pedro, in particular, commanded the screen with ease. His movements were deliberate, his voice carrying an emotional weight that made it impossible to look away.  

But then there was Vanessa.  

You hated how your eyes lingered on her, how that knot of jealousy twisted low in your stomach. She was magnetic, the way she played her role as Pedro’s onscreen wife. The way they exchanged glances, their body language speaking volumes—it was all part of the script, you knew that. Still, it didn’t stop the bitter sting of envy that crawled its way into your chest.  

Get a grip, you thought, forcing yourself to look away. This was her job. This was his job. And you? You were here to do yours, not to indulge in ridiculous fantasies. Pedro wasn’t your boyfriend, or your close friend. He wasn’t yours.  

You plastered on a neutral expression, the kind you’d perfected over the years, and focused on your work. Daisy, Lucy, and Omar were scattered across the set, handling their own assignments, while you found yourself helping out with props. It was tedious but grounding, giving you something to pour your restless energy into.  

“Cut!” Matt’s voice echoed across the soundstage.  

The tension broke, and the cast relaxed, the scene’s intensity giving way to casual chatter. You busied yourself with resetting the props, carefully arranging them for the next take.  

That’s when you noticed Coco Ullrich, Pedro’s hairstylist, stepping in to adjust his salt-and-pepper hair. She worked with practiced ease, her hands quick and efficient. Pedro leaned forward slightly to make her job easier, a soft laugh escaping him as they exchanged a few words you couldn’t quite hear.  

You smiled faintly, almost to yourself. Coco was excellent at her job—there was no denying that. And damn, did she make Pedro look good. Too good. You tried not to dwell on it, focusing instead on the task in front of you, but the image of him sitting there, that effortless charm radiating off him, lingered in your mind.  

As you finished resetting a prop, you felt a presence beside you. Turning your head, you saw Daisy, her eyebrows raised and a knowing grin tugging at her lips. “Caught you staring,” she teased under her breath.  

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I wasn’t staring.”  

“Sure,” she said with a soft laugh. “Totally believable.”  

“Shouldn’t you be working?” you shot back, trying to steer the conversation away from yourself.  

Daisy only shrugged, her grin widening. “I am. Observing human behavior is part of the job.”  

You huffed, but there was no real malice in it. “Get out of here, Daisy.”  

She winked before walking off, leaving you standing there, your thoughts once again circling back to Pedro.  

Professional, you reminded yourself. Keep it professional. But the traitorous smile pulling at your lips made you wonder how long you could keep up the facade.  

By the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on you and the rest of the crew. The once-bustling set now buzzed with the quieter sounds of people packing up equipment, stifled yawns, and the occasional joke shared among friends.  

Daisy and Omar were tugging at a heavy camera dolly, grunting dramatically like it weighed a ton, though it clearly didn’t. “Are we sure this thing isn’t secretly an ancient artifact?” Omar huffed.  

“Definitely cursed,” Daisy deadpanned, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.  

You laughed, stepping in to help steady the dolly as they maneuvered it into place. “If it starts glowing, I’m out of here.”  

“Deal,” Daisy said, winking. “But you’re buying snacks if we survive.”  

With everything finally put away, Lucy tossed an arm around your shoulder. “We’re heading to the shuttle now. Don’t take too long, or we’re leaving you behind.”  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, giving her a tired smile.  

As they made their way toward the bus, you stayed behind to gather your things, your movements slower now that the adrenaline of the day had worn off. You double-checked your clipboard, tucked your pen into your bag, and clocked out, ready to head to the shuttle when you heard it—your name, carried over the cool night air.  

You froze, frowning slightly as you turned toward the source. The voice was unmistakable, even from a distance. Pedro.  

He was standing near the trailers, surrounded by his castmates and friends. Vanessa was there, laughing at something Joseph said. Ebon stood casually with a coffee cup in hand, and Coco was still fussing with Pedro’s hair, though it seemed like more of a friendly habit than a professional necessity at this point.  

Pedro’s eyes were on you, a warm smile stretching across his face as he called out again, “Hey! Come here! I’ve got some people I want you to meet!”  

Your eyes widened in shock, your mind immediately racing with possibilities. He means someone else, right? You turned your head slightly, glancing behind you, half-expecting someone else to step forward. But there was no one.  

You pointed at yourself, mouthing, Me?  

Pedro nodded, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you! Come on!”  

Your stomach flipped. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You stood there, gaping for a moment before realizing you couldn’t exactly ignore him. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and started walking toward the group, your palms inexplicably sweaty despite the crisp evening air.  

As you got closer, the chatter among the group quieted slightly, their attention shifting toward you. Pedro’s gaze didn’t waver, and it was both reassuring and unnerving.  

“Hey, everyone,” Pedro said as you arrived, his tone casual but full of warmth. “This is the PA I was telling you about. She’s been a lifesaver on set today.”  

Your cheeks burned, and you glanced down at your bag, gripping it tighter. “Oh, uh, I’m just doing my job,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Vanessa smiled at you, her expression kind. “Pedro’s been singing your praises all day. It’s nice to finally meet you.”  

Your heart stuttered. Singing my praises? You glanced at Pedro, who shrugged nonchalantly, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him.  

“You’re really making me look good here,” you said quietly, trying to keep your tone light, though your nerves were anything but.  

Pedro chuckled, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “You don’t need my help with that.” 

And just like that, your stomach flipped again, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 

“So, um, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice steadier than you expected, though your nerves still lingered just beneath the surface.  

Pedro tilted his head toward you, his grin softening into something more casual. “Well, we were just talking, and I had an idea. Since we’re heading back to the same place and you’re my roommate, why not ride with us? It’d save you time, and you wouldn’t have to deal with being the last one dropped off on the other shuttle.”  

You blinked at him, your mind racing to catch up. “Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said quickly, shaking your head.  

Before Pedro could respond, Vanessa waved her hand dismissively. “Impose? Please, it’s not imposing. You’re coming with us. No arguments.”  

Joseph chimed in, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Yeah, you’ll make our little carpool a lot more fun. Pedro can’t keep us entertained on his own, you know.”  

“Hey!” Pedro protested with mock indignation, his hand resting dramatically over his heart.  

Ebon smirked. “He’s right, though. You’d be doing us all a favor.”  

Your cheeks warmed under their collective encouragement, and you couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t know…”  

Coco stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. We’ve got room, and it makes sense. Plus, Pedro already vouched for you.”  

You glanced at Pedro, whose expression was a mix of amusement and something else—something softer. His eyes met yours, and the look he gave you was so earnest it nearly knocked the breath out of you.  

“See? Everyone’s on board,” Pedro said, his tone coaxing but playful. “It’s settled.”  

Still hesitant, you glanced at the group again, their smiles and easy camaraderie somehow making you feel like you belonged. Finally, you exhaled and nodded. “Okay, fine. If you’re sure I’m not a burden…”  

“You? A burden?” Vanessa said, laughing. “Girl, please.”  

Pedro grinned, clearly satisfied with the outcome. “Great. Let’s get going, then.”  

As the group began moving toward the car, you found yourself walking next to Pedro. Your nerves hadn’t completely settled, but there was something about the way he glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a barely contained smile, that made you feel a little lighter.  

“You okay?” he asked quietly, just for you to hear.  

You nodded, the corners of your own lips curving upward despite yourself. “Yeah, I think so.”  

“Good,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Because you’re gonna have a great time with us. Promise.”  

And for a moment, you let yourself believe him.

The large black van hummed softly as you climbed in, sliding into the seat by the window. Pedro followed closely behind and settled beside you, his arm brushing yours in the close quarters. You murmured a polite greeting to the driver, Luis, who nodded warmly in return, his easy smile a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of emotions currently swirling inside you.  

As the rest of the cast filled the van with their chatter and laughter, you sat rigidly, your back pressed against the seat. The reality of sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Pedro—and a group of celebrities you’d only ever admired from afar—was almost too much. You gripped your phone tightly, the faint glow illuminating your slightly shaky fingers as you sent a quick text to your friends:  

You: "Don’t wait for me. Got a ride with Pedro and the cast." 

The group chat exploded almost instantly, messages popping up one after the other:  

"WHAT?! 😳" 

"OOOOOHHHHHH" 

"Pics or it didn’t happen!"

You barely had time to cringe at their excitement before Pedro shifted beside you, leaning just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.  

“Group chat drama?” he teased, his voice low and amused.  

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly locked your phone, clutching it tightly in your lap. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, staring determinedly out the window.  

Pedro chuckled softly, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to press. “Sure, nothing.”  

You said nothing in return, choosing instead to focus on the passing streetlights outside. They blurred together, golden streaks in the night, as the van glided smoothly through the London streets. The gentle hum of the engine and the occasional burst of laughter from the group provided a soundtrack to your inner turmoil.  

Every nerve in your body was acutely aware of Pedro’s presence beside you—the way his shoulder occasionally bumped yours when the van turned, the warmth radiating from him despite the evening chill. You wanted to relax, to laugh along with everyone else, but the overwhelming awareness of where you were and who you were with kept your pulse racing.  

“You okay over there?” Pedro asked softly, his tone laced with concern now, his earlier teasing gone.  

You glanced at him, startled by the question, and saw his brow furrowed slightly, his gaze steady and sincere.  

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, offering a small, tight smile.  

Pedro didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “You sure? You look like you’re about to bolt out of here any second.”  

That earned a genuine laugh from you, albeit a quiet one. “I’m just... not used to this, I guess.”  

“This?”  

You gestured vaguely to the van, the people around you, and finally, to him. “All of this.”  

Pedro smiled, a slow, disarming smile that softened his whole face. “You’ll get used to it. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure to keep you grounded.”  

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, if only slightly. The streetlights outside continued to blur, but now, your focus lingered on the quiet presence beside you—the warmth, the humor, and the unspoken reassurance he offered without even trying.  

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The hotel restaurant buzzed softly with the hum of conversations and the faint clinking of cutlery against plates. The warm, golden light illuminated the room, casting everything in an inviting glow. You had planned to make a quiet escape after dropping your bag off in your room, hoping to have a solitary dinner away from the star-studded company you had spent the day with. But Pedro had other plans.  

You’d barely made it three steps toward the elevators when you felt a familiar warmth against the small of your back. “Not so fast,” Pedro murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned just slightly into your ear.  

“Pedro, I—” you began, only to be met with his wide, unapologetic grin.  

“Come on, you can’t bail on us now. We’re starving, and it wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said, his hand gently guiding you toward the restaurant where the others were already gathering.  

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his voice, paired with the warmth of his touch, left you little room to argue. “Fine,” you sighed, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed how little resistance you’d actually put up.  

The long wooden table in the center of the restaurant was filled with chatter and laughter by the time you arrived. Joseph and Ebon were in the middle of some animated story, Vanessa leaned in with a knowing smirk, and Coco was shaking her head with an exasperated smile. When Pedro led you to an empty seat beside him, all eyes turned toward you.  

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Vanessa said, her tone teasing but not unkind.  

“Had to drag her here,” Pedro chimed in, his grin making the table erupt in laughter.  

You sank into the seat, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t trying to escape,” you lied unconvincingly.  

“Sure, sure,” Joseph teased, winking at you from across the table. “Pedro’s got a sixth sense for these things, doesn’t he?”  

“Like a bloodhound,” Ebon added, making everyone laugh again.  

Despite your initial nerves, the warmth of the group quickly put you at ease. The conversation flowed effortlessly, ranging from behind-the-scenes mishaps to favorite restaurants in London. At one point, Vanessa and Coco started playfully debating whether Pedro’s hair looked better tousled or slicked back for the shoot, dragging you into the conversation.  

“Well?” Vanessa asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What do you think?”  

You nearly choked on your water. “Oh, I, um...” You glanced at Pedro, who was leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying your discomfort.  

“Go on,” he prompted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I can take it.”  

Finally, you sighed, trying to suppress your smile. “Tousled,” you admitted, earning a triumphant cheer from Vanessa and Coco.  

Pedro mock-gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Betrayed! By my own roommate, no less.”  

“Hey, she’s got taste,” Joseph said, raising his glass in a toast to you.  

The playful banter continued, and by the time the entrees arrived, you were fully immersed in the group’s easy camaraderie. Pedro made sure to refill your glass whenever it was low and nudged the breadbasket toward you without a word when he noticed you eyeing it.  

At one point, you caught him watching you as you laughed at something Joseph said. His expression was soft, fond, like he was memorizing the way you looked in that moment. You tried to ignore the way your heart skipped, focusing instead on the warmth of the room and the laughter surrounding you.  

When the desserts arrived—indulgent, towering plates of tiramisu and molten chocolate cake—you couldn’t help but sigh contentedly. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “This was better than eating alone.”  

Pedro’s grin was slow and knowing. “Told you so.”  

The night stretched on, and by the time the group began to disperse, your cheeks ached from smiling so much. As you stood to leave, Pedro fell into step beside you, his hand once again finding the small of your back.  

“See? Not so bad being part of the group, is it?” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.  

You glanced up at him, your heart fluttering at the closeness. “No,” you admitted with a shy smile. “Not bad at all.”  

After dinner, the group, full from good food and endless laughter, made their way to the elevator. One by one, everyone headed off to their respective floors, each exit marked with cheerful goodnights and playful teasing.

“You two behave!” Vanessa teased as she stepped off on her floor, her smirk lingering even as the doors slid shut behind her.

The elevator continued its ascent, and soon enough, it was just you and Pedro left. The quiet settled between you, comfortable but charged, the kind that made you hyperaware of every breath, every shift.

“Guess it’s just us,” Pedro said, his voice warm, his eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint.

“Guess so,” you replied softly, clutching the strap of your bag tighter.

When the elevator dinged on your floor, Pedro followed you out. It wasn’t unusual at this point—you were, after all, sharing a room—but somehow, tonight, the knowledge made your chest tighten. You fumbled for your keycard as you both walked down the hallway, your steps in sync.

“Still weird sharing a room with me?” Pedro asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

You shot him a look, trying to hide your flustered state. “Not weird,” you said, unlocking the door. “Just... different.”

He grinned as you pushed the door open, stepping aside to let him in first. “Different how?”

“Different as in, I don’t usually share my personal space with someone famous,” you quipped, hoping to steer the conversation away from the real answer—how utterly nerve-wracking it was to be so close to him.

Pedro chuckled, tossing his jacket onto the back of the chair in the common area. “Relax, I’m not that famous,” he teased, kicking off his shoes as he settled onto the couch with the ease of someone used to this.

You scoffed, setting your bag down on the small dining table near the kitchenette. “Says the guy whose face is plastered all over my TikTok For You page.”

He paused mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Oh, really? Your For You page?”

You groaned, regretting saying anything. “Don’t get a big head about it,” you muttered, trying to sound casual as you rifled through your bag for your phone charger.

“Oh, this is rich,” he said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “What kind of edits are we talking about? Romantic montages? Thirst traps? Tell me everything.”

You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes. “I’m not feeding your ego, Pedro.”

But he was already grinning like a kid at Christmas. “You definitely watch them,” he teased. “Don’t lie—I can see it all over your face.”

You tried to glare, but the warmth in his tone made it impossible. “I’m not talking about this,” you said firmly, grabbing your charger and heading toward your room in the suite.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he called after you. “But I know.”

Shaking your head, you plugged in your phone on the nightstand. The suite was nice—two separate bedrooms connected by the shared living space. But even with the privacy of your room, the knowledge that Pedro was just a few steps away left you feeling... unsettled in the best way.

When you reentered the common area, Pedro was stretched out on the couch, flipping idly through TV channels. He glanced up when you walked in, his grin softening into something warmer.

“Just Pedro,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You hesitated, sitting down on the armchair across from him. “It’s just... you say it like it’s supposed to make things easier. Like, ‘I’m just Pedro.’ But it doesn’t. It makes things harder.”

Pedro sat up then, his attention fully on you. “Harder how?”

Your hands twisted in your lap, nervous but too deep in it now to stop. “Because it makes it harder to pretend this isn’t a big deal. Sharing a space like this with you.”

The room fell quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater. Pedro’s expression softened, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Good,” he said simply, his voice warm and steady. “Because I don’t want you to pretend.”

You blinked, your heart racing at his words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like this,” he replied, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I like having you here. Even if it’s... different.”

Your lips parted, a response on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out. The way he looked at you—steady, unguarded—made your chest ache.

“Me too,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible.

Pedro leaned back with a satisfied grin, the tension easing as he grabbed the remote again. “Well, since we’re both stuck here, how about a movie before bed?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Fine. But nothing loud or action-packed. I need calm.”

“Deal,” he said, smirking as he flipped through the channels. “But if I fall asleep halfway through, it’s your fault.”

And just like that, the weight in the room lifted, replaced by something quieter, something softer. The shared space between you felt a little less daunting, a little more like something you could both hold onto—whatever this was, whatever it could be.

End Notes:

Ya'll apparently like this fic! Thank you so much for the support huhu T^T

I’d like to give a shout out to google and reddit for aiding me in my research for this fic LMAO

I know little to nothing when it comes to production. I know the basic stuff cause of my course. (We had a class on how to plan events and stuff. I figured it’s somewhat similar.)

I’m having a blast coming up with possible scenarios with these two, the possibilities rn seem endless.

Based on research and testimonies from people who have worked with Pedro, they all mention how down-to-earth he is and how he cares for everyone on set and tries his best to know the crew. What a sweetheart 🥹🤍

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03

[slitherinky]

Masterlist | About me | Requests

A Shadow Between the Shelves

Setting: soft!Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, MDNI, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names

Summary: Your library session takes an unexpected turn when the boy who’s been stealing your glances since day one catches your eye again. Curiosity leads you to him in a shadowy corner where he reveals a truth you never dared to imagine—he’s wanted you just as much. And how much he wanted you...

Length: 2,5k words or 10 minutes

Please be aware of the warnings before proceeding. If you are underage, sensitive to depictions of violence, or intense explicit content, it is do not to read further. This story is purely fictional and does not reflect or endorse such behavior in real life. Any attempt to replicate the actions described in this story in real life is strongly discouraged. Harry Potter and the Wizarding World is a trademark of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

It was a chilly Friday evening at Hogwarts, the autumn air had an earthy scent of falling leaves. The Great Hall buzzed with the usual chatter of students enjoying dinner, their laughter and conversation mingling with the occasional hoot of an owl delivering mail. You sat at your houses table, your hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea, trying to summon the energy to face another evening learning for your O.W.L.s. Your friends chattered beside you, their voices a comforting hum in the background.

You looked around. Across the room sat Mattheo Riddle surrounded by his usual group of girls admiring him. He was the center of attention. As always. But you couldn't blame them, he looked perfect. His dark hair fell in unruly waves across his forehead, his sharp jawline accentuated by a smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face. You had never spoken to him directly, but imagined him with you a million times. His perfect, soft lips against yours and-

“Y/N, are you even listening?” your friend nudged you playfully, breaking your trance.

“Huh? Sorry, what?” you asked, snapping your attention back to the present.

“I said we’re heading to the library. Are you coming?”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied absentmindedly, your eyes drifting once more to him. Mattheo caught your gaze this time, his smirk deepening as he raised an eyebrow. Your cheeks burned, and you quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

The walk to the library was brisk, the castle corridors echoing with the soft murmur of passing students and the occasional distant clatter of Peeves causing trouble. The flickering torchlight danced along the cold stone walls, casting long shadows as you and your friends made your way toward the towering double doors of the library.

Pushing them open, you were met with the familiar scent of parchment and the faint musk of aged wood. The library was quieter than usual, most students still lingering in the Great Hall or in their common rooms for the evening.

Your friends quickly claimed a table near the back, setting down their books and chattering softly about the topics they planned to review. You followed, dropping your bag onto the worn wooden surface and sinking into one of the chairs. The weight of your textbooks almost crushed you today and you sighed, resigning yourself to another evening of diagrams, definitions, and endless notes.

Yet, as you pulled out your wand to light the tip for better reading, you couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of being watched. A subtle, prickling awareness danced along the back of your neck. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as exhaustion or the aftereffects of your earlier encounter in the Great Hall.

But as your fingers absently flipped through the pages of your Potions textbook, your eyes flickered upward, scanning the quiet aisles of bookshelves. There, leaning casually against one of the towering shelves near the Restricted Section, was Mattheo Riddle. His dark eyes gleamed with a knowing glint, and the shadow of that infamous smirk curved his lips.

You froze for a heartbeat, wondering if he’d followed you here—or if it was just an weird coincidence. Before you could decide, Mattheo tilted his head slightly, as if inviting you to figure it out for yourself. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he turned and disappeared between the rows of books, leaving you to wonder whether you should stay in your seat or follow where curiosity might lead.

Well, what could go wrong?

You decided to take a chance, and followed.

With a careful glance to be sure your friends were preoccupied, you set down your wand and quietly slipped from the table, following the path where Mattheo had vanished.

The soft glow of the library's enchanted lamps barely lit the shadowy aisles as you ventured deeper into the maze of bookshelves. The faint sound of Mattheo's steps against the floor guided you, steady and deliberate, until it stopped altogether. Your heartbeat quickened, a mix of apprehension and curiosity flooding your senses.

"Looking for something?" Mattheo’s voice drawled, low and smooth, cutting through the stillness like a blade. You turned sharply, your breath hitching as you found him leaning against one of the shelves, arms crossed over his chest. The dim light softened the sharp angles of his face, but the intensity in his dark eyes was anything but gentle.

“I, uh…” you stammered, trying to piece together an excuse, but words failed you. His smirk widened, and he straightened, closing the distance between you with a few casual steps.

"You’ve been watching me," he said, his voice teasing but laced with something darker, something that made your stomach flutter and knot at the same time. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Your cheeks burned, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "I wasn’t—"

“Oh, you were," he interrupted, his tone light but his presence overpowering. He tilted your chin up with a single finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "And it’s cute."

His words sent a spark through you, a strange mix of embarrassment and thrill. “What do you want, Mattheo?”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and full of something you couldn’t quite place. “What do I want?” he repeated, as if tasting the words. "You.”

The confession hung heavy in the air, stealing the breath from your lungs. Before you could process it, he added, his voice softer now, “I’ve always thought you were cute, you know. The way you try so hard to keep to yourself, like you’re invisible. But you’re not. At least, not to me.”

His words were unexpectedly tender, his gaze softening for a moment as he studied your face. A warmth spread through you, melting away some of the tension in your chest.

“You know, I really don't care about the other girls. They're too easy to get. You, on the other hand," he paused, his eyes drifting down, studying the curve of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. “You look at me like you want to be devoured by me. And that makes you very intriguing, Y/n."

The sound of your name in his mouth was a revelation. It rolled off his lips, smooth and velvety, the vowels deepening into a growl at the end.

"Why are you telling me this now?” you whispered.

Mattheo stepped closer, his scent—woodsy and faintly spiced—enveloping you. “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, his voice steady. “Because I think you needed to hear it.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears as his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. The gesture was almost gentle, but his eyes darkened as they lingered on yours.

The softness in his expression hardened into something sharper, hungrier. His hand slid from your face to your back, pulling you against him in one swift motion. The sudden closeness left you breathless, and before you could protest or even think, his lips crashed onto yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was demanding, possessive, and sending shockwaves through your body. His hands gripped you firmly, one on your waist, the other threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your mind spun, torn between shock and the undeniable heat of his touch. This is what you've been dreaming of. His lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless, his presence overwhelming every sense. It was as if he wanted to consume you, to claim you entirely in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his dark eyes blazing as they locked onto yours. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you baby?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something dangerous. His thumb brushed your swollen lower lip, his gaze following the movement with an almost predatory focus.

"Look at you—your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen, and fuck, I just know that you want me, don't you?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his hand tightened in your hair, yanking your head back as his mouth descended on your neck. A gasp tore from your throat, and before you knew it, you found yourself sitting on a small table pushed against one of the bookshelves. The wood dug into your thighs, but you barely registered the discomfort. You were too caught up in the sensations flooding your mind and body.

Mattheo’s teeth grazed your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips and tongue danced along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You clutched at his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric as his lips traveled down to the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Oh god Mattheo,” you gasped, unable to hold back the moan that threatened to escape.

"Shhhhh quiet darling, or the others will hear you," Mattheo whispered against your skin. He smiled against your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine.

"And I know you’re just dying for my cock, aren't you, princess?”

“M-Mattheo, w-we shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, your voice breathless. But Mattheo didn’t let you finish. He pulled up your skirt, pushing it to your waist in one swift motion.

His free hand found the front of your underwear and, with a wicked smirk, he rubbed over your pussy. "Oh, my little angel, you're so wet for me," he purred, his eyes burning with lust as he looked into yours. "Fuck, I've wanted you since the day I saw you."

His hand pulled back, and he slipped his fingers into the top of your panties. You watched in disbelief as he licked his fingers clean, the sound making you even wetter for him. Then, before you knew it, his fingers were back against you, rubbing your clit in soft circles.

"Fuck, Mattheo," you moaned again, unable to help it this time.

He knelt down on one knee, his head now perfectly aligned with the height of the table. His other leg remained on the floor and his free arm held you tightly against him.

"Say it louder," he growled, his fingers moving faster, rubbing harder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh god!"

With a dark smirk, he pulled his fingers away. You yelped in surprise. He grinned at the expression, and then his head dipped below your waist.

"Oh fuck," you gasped as his tongue found your clit.

The pleasure was unlike anything you've ever felt. You gasped again as his tongue flicked over you again, your hands threading through his hair. You couldn't help it as you tugged on his hair, pressing his tongue against your clit as hard as you could.

But Mattheo was one step ahead of you. He pulled away, leaving you panting. "My little princess wants more, huh?"

"Oh fuck—please, please, Mattheo." Your voice cracked as you begged him for more.

Mattheo grinned up at you, his tongue licking his lips. "Say please again."

"Please," you gasped. And before you could say another word, his mouth was back on your clit, sucking and licking. His fingers found your entrance, and he shoved two inside of you.

“Oh god, oh god—oh fuck!" Your voice rose in pitch, and you clutched his hair again, pressing his mouth against you as hard as you could.

But before you could come, he pulled away again. He stood up and grinned at the look on your face. You looked down at him and noticed a large bulge had formed in his pants.

"Fuck, you look hot like that," he murmured, looking you up and down. "but you need to wait until I let you come."

Mattheo undid his belt and pulled at the button of his pants, undoing them with one quick move. His cock was hard and bigger than you expected, the tip already dripping with precum.

"I want to hear you say it," he said while he pulled his cock out, stroking it slowly. "Beg me to fuck you, princess."

"I—oh god—Mattheo—please fuck me—" you gasped out in a string of words, desperate to have him inside of you.

He smiled as he came closer to you, pushing your legs apart and placing himself between them. You held onto his shoulders as he shoved your underwear aside with the other arm. He teased the entrance of your pussy with his cock, making you squirm in his arms. He pressed a kiss to your ear, his hot breath making goosebumps rise up on your arms.

"You want my cock, don't you baby?" he asked under his heavy breath, and you nodded. "Then say it."

"Yes-" you gasped.

"Not like that, princess," he murmured. "I want to hear you beg me."

"Please—" you said again, the word slipping out in frustration. "Fuck me Mattheo—please, fuck me."

"That's my good girl." He growled as he shoved his cock into you, filling you completely. You cried out in surprise at the sudden stretch, and Mattheo paused for a second, giving you time to adjust. Then, he pulled out of you, and pushed back in with more force than before. His movements started slow, but soon became harder and faster.

He kissed your lips, and then your neck again, his teeth nipping at you every so often. The sensation of him inside you, his mouth on you, his hands on your skin, was almost too much to bear.

"Mmmm, god you're tight," He moaned, pushing his cock even further inside you. "You feel so fucking good, you know that princess?"

"Fuck Mattheo—" you cried out again, the orgasm starting to build. You tugged on his hair again, and he moaned against you.

"You're mine now," He whispers in your ear, as he started to increase the pace. "You're mine, and no one else’s—"

You felt his body tense against you, and his thrusts became faster and harder. His mouth pulled away from your neck and pressed against your ear again.

"God, you take my cock so well, do you?" he groaned out. "Yes, you’re a good girl—fuck—"

He trailed off, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic.

"Come for me, princess—" Mattheo growled, one of his hands reaching down to rub your clit. "Show me what you always wanted."

Your orgasm crashed through your body, almost as if it was waiting for him to say something to make it happen. You screamed out in pleasure as your body tightened and shuddered around his cock, the sensation of it throbbing inside of you too much to bear.

"Fuckkk—" he hissed as he pushed his cock as far into you as possible. You felt him shoot inside you, his hot cum filling your insides.

He stayed like that for a minute, his cock pulsating inside of you, as if savoring the moment. Finally, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and exposed.

"You’re fucking amazing. You know that, right?" he said as he fixed his clothes. You watched in awe as he buttoned up his pants and pulled his belt around him. You had never seen anything so sexy in your life.

You said nothing, unsure how to answer. He smirked and then pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, helping you dress yourself back up.

“Do you think sombody heard us?" You asked, suddenly worried.

"Maybe." He paused and then cupped your face, his smile softening into something softer. "But maybe I surrounded us with a quietness spell."

© SlitherInky 2024 Do not copy, repost or translate.

You want more? My Masterlist

[w4ndal0ver]

The Art of Submission (2)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

chapter summary: The tension between you and Wanda becomes too much and you finally give into her alluring remarks and suggestions. She breaks you.

whole summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: continuing the insane amount of sexual tension, mention of heavy dom/sub dynamic, fingering, orgasm denial, begging.

note: So this is the second instalment and I definitely have never put this much work into the build up of what's basically a shamelessly dirty smutty story, however I hope you enjoy. (the next instalment is where things get super interesting and it will be out soon)

The Art of Submission - Chapter 2

Your heart is still racing, the taste of Wanda’s lips lingering as you lean back, trying to catch your breath. She watches you, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and something darker, more dangerous. 

“I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of yours.” she teases, her finger still resting on her lips as if savouring the kiss, “what are you thinking.” 

You try to compose yourself, offering a playful smile in return. “I’m thinking you’re trouble,” you say, but the voice betrays the thrill surging through you. Wanda’s energy is magnetic and you’re already caught in the strength of her pull. 

She chuckles softly, leaning closer so that her arm brushes against yours again. The subtle contact makes your nerve endings tremble. “Oh, I think you like a little trouble.” She murmurs, her tone smooth as silk. She tilts her head slightly, eyes gleaming as they enter that same darling lock with yours once more. “It's not the writing, is it?” she asks, eyes glistening, “It’s what you’re writing about.”

You shift, unsure of how to answer, but Wanda presses on, her tone softer, coaxing you forward. “You know what you want to say,” She whispers, her fingers brushing a slow maddening path along your thigh. “It’s the feeling you’re struggling with. The way to express it… to make it real.”

Your breath hitches. You don’t respond right away, too caught up in the way she’s watching you, her gaze predatory and knowing. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s clear she’s not letting you off easily. 

“What is it that you’re really trying to explore?” Wanda’s voice is like velvet, low and intimate. “Sadomasochism, right? It’s more than just the physical, it's the headspace, the emotional surrender, pushing limits.” Her words stir something deep inside of you, a part of you that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. You nod meekly, almost on instinct, feeling the weight of her hand anchoring you in place. 

“You’re not struggling with the plot,” she continues, her voice soft but relentless, “You’re struggling with how far to take it. How far to go beyond ‘safe.’” Her thumb continues to stroke a slow deliberate circle just above your knee, and your breath catchers at the subtle increase in pressure. “You’ve written about control before, but this is different. This is about letting go completely.” 

With that your pulse is on fire, her words hitting home. It is different. It’s darker and dangerous and Wanda is pushing you toward that edge, darling you to step over it. 

Her lips curve into a slow and wicked smile. “Maybe” She pushes, her voice laced with heat, “you’re scared to write about what you actually want.” Your body tenses at the insinuation and Wanda picks up on it immediately. She doesn’t pull away though, if anything, she leans in closer, her breath brushing the side of your neck. “You want to write about power,” She whispers, her hand sliding higher, the pressure firm but tantalising, “About giving it up, about what it feels like when someone takes it from you.” She pauses, letting her words settle into the heavy air between you, “but the only way to write that truthfully is to understand it.”

Your throat feels tight, your body alive with the tension crackling between you. You can’t find any words, but Wanda doesn’t seem to need them. She reads every flicker of your expression. Every quickening breath makes that wicked smile deepen.

“You can’t fake that kind of intensity darling,” Her voice is almost hypnotic, “You need to feel it. You need to know what it’s like to hand over your control, to be at someone else's mercy.” You feel her fingers move higher up your thigh. She’s testing you, waiting to see how far she can push you before you break. 

“And maybe,” She adds, her hand reaching up to tuck your hair away from your face, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “You’re tired of always being the one in control.”

This was when you realised how close she had gotten to you, her hand still on your leg, firm and unyielding, grounding you in the moment as her breath fans across your neck. “It’s okay.” her voice soft but demanding, “to want something different, to want to feel different.”

The tension between you is palpable now, the air charged with the unspoken promise of what could come next. Wanda’s touch, so deliberate, so confident, feels like a silent dare - a challenge to take that next step, to let yourself go. “Tell me,” Her lips are almost brushing yours as she speaks, “What do you really want.”

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of her question sinks in. Your mind races, torn between the familiar safety of control and the intoxicating allure of surrender. But Wanda’s eyes hold you captive, drawing you deeper into her web and you know there’s no turning back now. 

Wanda’s hand remains a steady weight on your thigh, the heat from her palm seeping into your bare skin. The faint scent of her perfume surrounds you, the intensity of the smell pulling you in deeper. She tilts her head ever so slightly, her auburn hair falling in soft waves over her shoulder as she studies you, “You’re thinking too much again,” she says, her voice a quiet murmur. Her thumb continues its slow, torturous circle against your thigh. 

“I’m not- I just-.” You start, but the words get caught in your throat. Your hands restless in your lap as you fidget under her unwavering stare, the one that is watching every tiny flicker of emotion that crosses your face. 

“You don’t need to be nervous,” She says slowly, “Not with me.” You can feel her body heat now, the way her knee is pressing against yours, her hand resting higher on your thigh, just enough to remind you of her control without pushing too far. “Look at me.” She demands, her tone firmer now, the authority in her voice making your pulse jump. You turn your head back to her, your eyes meeting hers and she holds your gaze, unrelenting. “You can’t write it if you can’t say it.”

The words feel impossibly heavy on your tongue, but the heat of Wanda’s body so close to yours makes it harder to resist. You lick your lips, trying to steady yourself and finally the words come out, shaky and quiet. “I want to give up control.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a gleam of satisfaction flashing in her eyes. Her hand continues to slide higher, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just above the hem of your tiny black skirt. Her thumb tracing the line of your inner thigh now with an agonising slowness. “Good,” She purrs, her voice dripping with approval, “But that's only part of it, isn’t it?”

You can’t look away from her, your chest tight with anticipation. She’s close enough that you can see the faint freckles scattered across her cheeks, the way her lips curve into that teasing smile. Her fingers move again, deliberate, testing, and your body reacts instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

Her eyes darken with amusement, “Tell me the rest,” she coaxes, her voice like velvet, “What do you want from me?”

The question hangs between you, and your breath catches itself. Your hands trembling slightly in your lap and you glance down, the words heavy and terrifying as they try to force their way out. Wanda’s touch on your leg is insistent, her presence so overwhelming that you can hardly think straight. 

“I- I want you to-” Your voice wavers, but Wanda’s gaze still doesn’t falter. 

“Go on,” Her fingers brushing just a little higher, dangerously close to where you feel the heat pooling beneath your skin, finally becoming aware of the arousal that had built between your legs, “Say it.”

The tension between you is unbearable, the pull of her command undeniable. You bite your lip, you’d never wanted anybody more than Wanda at this moment. “I want you to take control.” Now, everything feels suspended, the weight of your confession hanging in the charged air between you. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it.” She murmurs, her voice teasing your timid and shaky reactions. You shake your head in nervous response, her hand moves again, a millimetre higher, the pressure firmer and you feel your body shudder under her gentle but demanding touch. “Now that you’ve said it, we can explore what it really means.” 

Wanda’s eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar, testing glint dancing in their depths. She leaned back, her posture easy, as if she was weighing her next move carefully. “You know what you want,” Wanda murmured softly, her voice caressing your face, “But you haven’t said it out loud yet.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, “I- I don’t know if I can.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Wanda’s lips curved into a smile, her body leaning towards yours, her fingertips now dancing lightly over her own wrist, an unspoken reminder of the power she held, a soft contrast to the hard edge in her voice. 

Your eyes flickered to the small motion, captivated by the simplicity of it. Her confidence was dizzying, making your chest tighten with a mix of excitement and intimidation. 

“I-” You started, you wanted to tell her, to finally give in to that pull she had over you, but the fear of laying yourself bare - of admitting the truth - made your heart race, “I’m not sure how to say it.”

Wanda’s hand slid from her wrist, gliding across the table between you until it stopped short of touching yours. She hovered there, the warmth from her skin so close you could almost feel it, yet she didn’t make contact. 

“Let me make it easier for you then,” She whispers, her voice laced with control, “Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you’re afraid to say?” This time she cocks her head, her eyes never leaving your face. Her lips parted slightly as she waited, giving you the space to answer but tightening the leash on the unspoken tension between you. 

Every part of you screamed yes, but your voice remained trapped so all you could do was nod. Wanda’s eyes were still flickering with satisfaction, as though she had expected this. She didn’t move right away, letting the silence build around you, drawing out the longing anticipation until it felt as if time had stopped completely. 

“I didn’t hear you,” She said, her fingers finally brushing the back of your hand, the lightest touch, almost too soft to feel. 

“I want you to touch me.” You could hardly believe you had said it, your voice barely audible, but the words were out now and there was no taking them back.

Wanda’s smirk deepened, her confidence growing as she saw the effect she was having on you. Her fingers shifted over the back of your hand before slipping up to your wrist. She was barely touching you, yet it felt like she had control of every nerve in your body. 

“You see,” she said quietly, her lips brushing the words against the air between you, “this is the kind of power you need to understand. Submission is about giving yourself over completely… even when it scares you.” Her fingers tightened around your wrist, a gentle hold, but there was no mistaking the control she was exerting over you.

Your breath quickened, and you felt your chest rise and fall faster with each passing second. She was pushing you—testing you—but in a way that made you feel safe, even as your body screamed with anticipation.

Wanda’s other hand came to rest on your knee, light at first, but her grip slowly tightened, her thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. It was all you could do to remain still, your muscles tense under her touch, your entire body hyper-aware of every inch of contact.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared back at her. The room felt smaller, the air too thick to breathe properly. She wasn’t just asking you about the book anymore. She was asking you what you wanted. What you were ready for. “Say it,” she commanded softly, her voice leaving no room for hesitation, sensing that you were holding back your words.

Your pulse quickened, your body aching with the tension of holding back. “I want to go further,” you whispered, the words leaving your lips before you even had time to think them through. “I want… to give up control.”

Wanda smiled, her satisfaction evident in the way her fingers flexed against your skin. “Good,” she murmured, her tone dripping with approval. “Then let’s start.” She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as her lips barely grazed your skin. “But remember... it’s my control now.”

Your body tensed, but not from fear. The tension was different—an anticipation, a feeling like you were about to step off the edge of something and you weren’t sure what lay below. And yet, with Wanda, you felt drawn to that edge, even if it terrified you. She leaned back just slightly, her lips no longer hovering near your ear, but her eyes never left yours, still piercing, still searching.

“Are you ready to surrender?” she asked, her voice low but commanding, her fingers curling just slightly tighter around your wrist. “To give me what I want?”

You couldn’t speak right away. The knot of nerves and excitement twisted inside your stomach, making it hard to find your voice. You swallowed, your lips parting as you struggled to answer.

“I—” you started, but her fingers tightened again, not painfully, but enough to remind you that she was in control now.

“Shh,” she whispered, her thumb stroking lightly across your skin, calming and demanding all at once. “Take a breath. You’re trembling.”

She was right. You hadn’t noticed how much your body was shaking, every nerve ending tingling from her touch, from the intensity of the moment. You drew in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and her grip loosened just enough to give you space to catch your breath.

Wanda’s eyes softened, though the playful glint remained in them. She seemed to enjoy watching you wrestle with the tension between desire and fear. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice soothing but with an undercurrent of control. “You don’t have to rush. Just tell me how you want this to feel.”

Her hand on your knee shifted slightly, her fingers sliding just a bit higher, making your breath catch again. She was so good at this—so practised, it seemed—like she knew exactly how to push you, how to keep you teetering on that edge.

You licked your lips, your pulse still racing, but your nerves slowly giving way to a sense of surrender. You didn’t want to hold back anymore. You didn’t want to be afraid of what you were feeling. “I want… I want to feel like I’m not in control,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The admission came out almost like a confession, like you were telling her something you’d barely admitted to yourself.

Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up with approval. “Good,” she murmured, her fingers shifting again, just slightly, but it was enough to send another wave of sensation through you. “And what else?”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to put the words together. “I want you to push me,” you said, your voice more confident now, even if your body still trembled under her touch. “I want to feel like I don’t know what’s coming next.”

Wanda’s smirk deepened, and her fingers slid higher still, her touch achingly slow, deliberate. “You want to be surprised,” she mused, her voice soft but filled with that same commanding tone that made your pulse quicken. “You want to be on the edge, not knowing what I’ll do, but trusting that I won’t let you fall.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Wanda’s hand released your wrist, and for a moment you felt the loss of her touch like a sudden drop, your skin buzzing in the absence of her grip. But then, she moved closer, her thigh pressing against yours, her fingers brushing the side of your neck. It was such a simple gesture, yet it held so much weight—so much promise.

“I can do that,” she whispered, her lips curving into that dangerous smile. “But first…” Her thumb traced the line of your jaw, making your breath hitch. “I want to hear you say it again. Say that you want to surrender.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body feeling heavy with the tension she was weaving around you. But this time, you didn’t hesitate. “I want to surrender,” you whispered, your voice stronger, more certain. “To you.”

Wanda’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she leaned in, her lips brushing yours for the briefest of moments, a featherlight touch that made your body yearn for more. “Good,” she breathed against your lips. “Then let me show you what it feels like to let go.”

She pulled back just enough to keep the tension hanging between you, her hands moving deliberately down your arms, her touch slow, intentional, as though savouring the moment. Your entire body was on edge, waiting for her next move, but she kept you there—suspended in that delicious tension, every touch, every breath drawn out.

Her fingers slid down your arms, stopping just at your wrists, holding them with a gentle but commanding grip. “Let me take over,” she whispered, her voice so close to your ear you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Let me guide you.”

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation, and with that single movement, you felt the shift. Wanda was no longer waiting for permission—she was in control now, and you could feel the power dynamic shift, a current running between you that electrified the air. The question wasn’t whether you wanted to give in anymore. The question was how far you were willing to let her take you.

Wanda’s fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along the inside of your wrist, her touch sending a quiet hum of electricity up your arm. She holds your gaze, her eyes darkening, the room suddenly feeling smaller, the air heavier.

"You don’t have to be afraid of saying what you want," Wanda whispers, her lips barely moving. Her voice is low, controlled, as if she already knows your answer, but she’s waiting—enjoying the power of making you say it aloud.

You swallow, your throat dry. Her proximity, the subtle scent of her skin, the way her fingers never stop moving—it’s all dizzying. Your mind spins, words getting tangled in the heat between you. "I—"

Wanda tilts her head, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. She leans in closer, her breath brushing against your cheek. "Tell me."

It’s not a request—it’s a command, soft but insistent. Her hand slides up, teasingly grazing your collarbone, her fingertips feather-light but purposeful, waiting for you to open the door completely.

“I want...” Your voice falters, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. The weight of what’s about to happen presses in from all sides, but there’s something intoxicating in it. Something you can’t pull away from. “I want you to show me.”

Wanda’s smirk deepens, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “That’s my girl,” she murmurs, and in that instant, everything shifts.

You’re burning now, every inch of your body is desperate to feel the touch of her, even your mind is beginning to surrender itself to her. Wanda’s eyes finally broke the strong gaze that she had been holding, her glare now roaming down your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly flattering, just a plain white cropped jumper paired with a short black skirt, but Wanda’s eyes still sparkled in delight at the sight of you sitting trembling on the kitchen stool. 

Her grip around your wrist turns into a pull as she closes the gap between them, pushing her lips against yours, dragging her tongue across your bottom lip. You immediately give her the control, allowing her access, the kiss deepening as she slides her hand up the back of your neck, her nails grazing against your skin. You whine into her mouth and you can feel her lips curve into that same smile as she takes your bottom lip between her teeth, lightly tugging. 

As she pulls away, her hand trails from your neck down your back, just one finger tracing the line all the way down your spine. “Are you comfortable with this?” Wanda asks, her voice deeper, laced with lust. You nod, your hand roaming to the back of her neck, gesturing for her to come back. “No, you need to learn to use your words honey.”

“Yes I’m comfortable.” You say, your voice laden with confidence all of a sudden and the look that this earned you made you understand why you would do anything she asked of you. 

“Oh, sweet girl, that’s better.” Wanda praises and your cheeks flush scarlet in response. Her finger traces the outline of your jaw, her hand stopping against your chin, guiding you face upwards to meet her stare. With the length of your neck exposed, she leans in to make gentle kisses against your skin, the back of her hand keeping your neck rigid against her lips. You could feel your thighs squeezing together, the slow anticipation and sudden grazes of her teeth driving you crazy.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wanda warns, spreading your thighs back open just enough that she can stand between your legs. Her hands roam down the underneath of your thighs, her touches so gentle that you were surprised you were so desperate for her. Her fingers kept brushing closer towards where you needed her, your hips rolling towards her hand in a desperate attempt for any contact. “I need to establish a few things with you okay?” 

You nod and you can see her suck her tongue between her teeth, the tilt of her head and the dark disapproving look that emerged immediately made you feel shameful in yourself, “Sorry, Yes Wanda.” Her frown turned into a smile, one that made your entire core shake. 

This time as her hand edged closer to you, she didn’t stop, allowing her fingers to lightly brush your dampened underwear, an excited gasp eliciting from the redhead as your head hangs in prolonged anticipation. “Much better, you see when you do what I want, you get rewarded.” Wanda was laying down her expectations of you, but your brain was fuzzy as her fingers continued to explore the edges of your underwear that had become completely soaked in the process. 

You begin to grip the sides of your stool as you feel Wanda dip her finger underneath the drenched material, gently skimming the length of your sensitive skin, not giving you what you needed but enough to make you tremble. Her stance between your legs, your head leaning to rest against her chest as she felt her way through the wetness that she found between your legs. 

“When you do something against what I’ve told you, for whatever reason, you will get punished.” Wanda states, removing her fingers from you, leaving you without any contact. You whine at the loss, hips jutting against your will in an attempt to regain some friction. “Do you know what you like?”

You shake your head, brain foggy with desperation. Wanda pinches the skin between your thighs and you yelp in pain, “No Wanda.” You say, immediately correcting yourself

“That’s okay, we can talk about it and I can help you explore these things.” She demands and you swallow hard as she bites her lip feeling the thrill of your innocent vulnerability. “From now on you’ll be my good girl, and I’ll guide you through this, do you understand?”

“Yes Wanda.” With your immediate submission to her rules, her eyes darken with intensity as she replaces her hand back to where you needed her. You gasp at the immediate contact against your clit, her fingers skilfully finding your bundle of nerves beneath your underwear, gently tapping the pad of her finger against it. 

“I know you’re familiar with the traffic light system.” Wanda continues, referencing your latest novel, a blush forming in your already flushed cheeks at the reminder that this is what led her into your apartment. “But this is very important, if you ever feel uncomfortable or want to slow down, just say your colour.”

“I understand.” You pant through breathy gasps, Wanda’s taps had become circles against your bundle of nerves and you could feel your core burning as she sent jolts of electricity through your body with nothing but gentle touches. 

“That’s it, you’re getting the hang of it, pretty girl.” A soft moan erupted from your lips at her words and Wanda’s gaze dances over your face, warmth radiating from her eyes as she cherishes in their first moment. She lifts your chin once again so your eyes finally meet and she smiles at the lust and desperation hidden within the depth of your eyes.

You feel your orgasm nearing as Wanda speeds up her movements, her grip on your chin forcing you to look at her as she unravels you in your own kitchen. “Rule one, you don’t cum unless I give you the permission to do so.” Her voice was commanding and authoritative, her look fierce and unwavering, making it clear that she knows exactly what she wants. 

“Y-yes.” You manage to get out, your body shaking as Wanda increased the pressure on your swollen clit, the short breathy moans that escaped your lips driving her forward, not wanting to tease you now, just wanting to see what you look like when you’re brought to the very edge, longing to see your head throw back and whine her name as she takes you over the brink. 

“You’re close aren’t you princess.” Wanda exclaims, her smile not once leaving her lips as she tilts your head backwards slightly, forcing you to look up at her with a longing desperation that she couldn’t wait to draw out in the future. 

“Wanda, please let me cum, I’m so close.” Your body was itching you closer and closer towards your orgasm but you were determined to wait for her order, wanting to prove yourself to her. 

“Hold it for me, you can do it.” Wanda instructs and you whine against her grip on your chin, doing everything you can to hold it back, every nerve in your body on fire as she relentlessly works against your clit. 

“I can’t, I need-” You splutter, slamming your hand into the counter, doing everything you could. Your fingers are gripping the counter, so tightly that your knuckles turn white trying to fight for control. You tilt your head back further, lips parting in a silent plea, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation becomes almost too much to bear. Even with your eyes closed you can feel Wanda’s gaze on you, a silent command for you to wait, keeping you just on the edge, right where she wants you.

Wanda leans closer, her lips ghosting over your ear, her breath warm against your skin. You shudder, barely able to hold on, her voice a soft, commanding whisper, ‘Beg for it.’

“Wanda,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both desperation and longing. The way her name rolls off your tongue feels almost sacramental, a plea that resonates deep within you. You shift your weight, leaning slightly closer, as if the proximity could bridge the gap between your need and her control.“Please... I need—” You pause, swallowing hard, the heat pooling in your cheeks, shame and excitement mingling in a dizzying dance. “I need your permission.”

The admission hangs heavy in the air, charged with vulnerability. You can feel the pulse of anticipation thrumming through your veins, your body alive with the struggle of restraint. You take a steadying breath, grounding yourself as your fingers twist into the fabric again, a subtle plea for her to grant you this one thing.

“Please let me...” The words falter for a moment, but you force them out, the urgency driving you forward. “I can’t hold back anymore. I want to let go... but I need you to say it.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, raw and real, and you can see the flicker of something in Wanda's eyes—a mixture of pride and hunger. You lean in slightly, tilting your head, your gaze unwavering as you lock eyes with her, silently urging her to make that connection, to pull you from the precipice you’re hanging on.

Wanda’s smile widens, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “You’re doing so well,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, teasing your senses. She leans in closer, her warm breath fanning across your skin, igniting every nerve ending in your body. “But you know what you have to do to earn that release, don’t you?” Her swift circles against your clit were becoming stronger, the continuous roll of her contact pushing you closer and closer to an edge that you thought you’d already reached.

Your heart pounds harder, each beat resonating with the anticipation of what’s to come. You nod, swallowing hard, the words hovering on the tip of your tongue, begging to escape. Wanda watches you, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of authority and desire, and in that moment, you know that she holds the power to grant you the freedom you crave.

“Say it,” she instructs, her tone firm yet inviting. “Tell me what you want.” 

The air is thick with tension, and your body betrays you, trembling with the weight of your desire. You take a breath, feeling every fibre of your being attuned to her, your vulnerability laid bare. “I want... I want to come,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with desperation.

For a moment, she holds your gaze, the intensity of her stare igniting something primal within you. “Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “I want you to let go, to feel everything I’ve been promising you. When I give you permission, you can release all that pent-up desire.”

You feel the flood of relief and exhilaration coursing through you, a wave of warmth washing over your body at her words. “Yes... please,” you urge, each syllable laced with a sense of urgency. “I need it, Wanda.”

With a slow, deliberate smile, she nods, her expression shifting to one of wicked delight. “Then go ahead, my sweet girl. You have my permission, cum for me.”

The moment the words leave her lips, a rush of sensation crashes over you like a wave, and you feel your body surrendering to the intoxicating pull of release. It’s everything you’ve been yearning for, and in that moment, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating pleasure that Wanda has granted you. Wanda continues circling your clit, helping you ride out the orgasm that you’d so desperately waited for. 

Once the pleasure has washed over you, all you can do is sit with Wanda standing between your legs, her brazen eyes beating down at you, her fingers still massaging into your thighs, sensing the sensitivity from your subtle squirms in response to her touch. 

“My god Wanda.” You say in utter astonishment at the woman's talent and it was her turn for her cheeks to grow slightly blushed at the praise, “I’ve never felt like that before, you’re incredible.”

“So you want this?” Wanda blushes, that dominating persona slowly breaking down at a few compliments. You mentally noted that down, knowing that it would come in useful at a later date. 

“I want nothing more than to do whatever this is with you.” You state honestly, your body still burning. You reach up to tuck her auburn hair behind her ear, the one strand that had been sat directly in front of her eyeline the entire evening. 

With that you exchanged numbers and you found yourself eagerly sitting waiting for the first text.

[jeonfics]

birthday boy | jjk

pairing: husband!jk x wife!reader

genre: married couple au

warnings: lots of touching, fluff, mentions of sex, clingy jk, whiny jk, kisses, he says baby a lot, just overall soft moments

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first fic/drabble i’ve ever written and posted. my writing skills aren’t the best but i hope you enjoy 🥹 i hope to make more stories in the future. this is also all fiction and in no means am i trying to relate this to the members irl🫶🏽

“okay he should be coming home any minute now so you guys need to hide,” you say to all of your in laws. you check jungkook’s destination on your phone and he’s 1 minute away from the house.

his parents, older brother’s: jin, yoongi, hoseok, and namjoon, and their spouses and kids go to your back patio that you all decorated for the party. jimin and taehyung wanted to pull a prank on jungkook first but there was no time for that since jungkook was coming any second now.

ever since you and jungkook had moved from Busan a year ago, he hadn’t seen his family that entire time. you on the other hand, have some family in the states. you guys also couldn’t go to Busan because of work. jungkook yearned to see his family although he called and facetimed them almost everyday.

you hear the sound of jungkook’s car outside parking in the garage. soon after, his keys are opening the front door.

“baby i’m home!” jungkook says out loud as you get up from the couch in the living room hurrying to him at the front door.

“hi! how was work?” you say cheerfully as he takes off his shoes and you take his bag.

“eh. the same. you weren’t at the porch today?” he pouts, a look of sadness and confusion written all over his face because you always wait for him at the porch when he comes back home from work.

“sorry i was doing something,” you say hoping he doesn’t think too much about it. he only nods but when he finishes taking off his shoes he begins to notice the light makeup on your face and the outfit you’re wearing. its just a new floral patterned dress you recently got. you paired it with a necklace and matching earrings. it’s nothing special but definitely something you wouldn’t normally wear at home. you also styled your hair because you wanted to look presentable for the party tonight. you also didn’t have work today and did tell jungkook you’d be at home all day, so he knows you didn’t go out. he ogles at you and grabs you by the waist. you squirm at the sudden movement.

“baby, who told you to look so beautiful?” he asks you while looking at your lips leaning in for a kiss. you know that look on his face but you stop him with your hands on his chest. he’s taken aback by your reaction because it’s also something you normally wouldn’t do- refraining from a kiss.

you see the confusion on his face again, this time he furrows his brows.

“uhm i just wanted to dress up. i was getting bored.”

“you look gorgeous baby. don’t worry you won’t be bored for long,” he winks and leans in for another kiss. you stop him again. not because you don’t want to kiss, but because his family is definitely watching you guys from the back patio near the living room. the doors are made of glass and although they are hiding in the dark, you know they are definitely peeking at you two. you get shy and flustered by the thought of his parents seeing you two like this so you quickly remove his arms from your waist and head towards the kitchen.

“baby what happened? are you mad at me?” he says pouting. it hurts you that he may be thinking if he did anything wrong. he could never do anything wrong. jungkook has always showered you with nothing but love for the past year of your marriage and last 6 years of your relationship.

“no of course not. you just need to wash up first.” you say as a lame excuse for him to not touch you. you know if jungkook starts touching and kissing you things get heated real quick. and you certainly cannot let that happen now.

“but you always give me kisses everyday after work. sometimes a bit more” he winks. “and my birthday’s in two hours,” he whines, his doe eyes looking like a puppy, lips in a pout and frown. “i had such a long day today all i could think about was the bomb ass birthday se-“

“jungkook!” you quickly cut him off. your cheeks gone full red because of the embarrassment. you’re most definitely sure everyone heard that. you panic internally because the thought of his parents hearing that leaves you extremely embarrassed. not to mention, the kids are outside too, and you definitely do not want them wondering what sex is. you and jungkook have this thing where you’re not clingy or touchy around each other’s families. not because you’re scared they’d judge you or something but because you both like doing it in private, when it’s just the two of you. pda isn’t really your guy’s thing.

“aw come on baby. why are you getting so shy for” he laughs. “it’s just me and you here. please just tell me what i did wrong. is it cuz i left this morning while you were still asleep. i was running late and i didn’t wanna wake you because you had cramps last night and it’s the beginning of the month so your period might be coming and-“

“no no jungkook you didn’t do anything wrong. just please hurry and go wash up. then we’ll eat dinner,” you cut him off as you push him towards the stairs. you know the more words that comes out of his mouth, the more embarrassing it’ll be for the both of you. you’ll just let him take a shower before everyone surprises him.

“let’s take a shower together. you know, i had a really reallyyy loooong day and you can help me relieve some tension baby. tomorrow is my birthday after all.” he repeats, using the birthday card to try and convince you while you’re still pushing him towards the stairs. your silence says it all so he quickly retreats, turns around and grabs you by the waist. he carries you up and then places you on the kitchen counter. he stands between your legs, hands brushing your thigh as they slowly slide up under your dress.

“oh my gosh jungkook not now! put me down!” you whisper loudly. he’s confused why you’re whispering so he stops playing with your thighs. you push him away and quickly jump off the counter. you hurry to the living room but he’s faster. he grabs your wrists and pulls you towards him. he holds you with one hand on your waist while the other on the side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. you turn your head to the side and you can clearly spot some of his brothers and their wives hiding behind the chairs and bushes. you only look for a few seconds but you still see them covering their kid’s eyes. “great” you think. you then turn back to jungkook and push his arms away from you. he’s always clingy but of course not when family are around. he doesn’t know that yet.

“baby i’m sorry but you know i can’t hold back when you look this hot. i was gonna wait for tonight but seeing you all dressed up for me,” he licks his lips leaning towards your face, “i was hoping for us to start now,” he says in his sultry voice that almost makes you risk it all.

luckily you’re saved from the embarrassment when taehyung slides the glass door to your back patio and enters the living room. “hate to break it to you but you can’t be so horny tonight baby.” jimin follows and says while laughing, “yeah baby, don’t mean to ruin the fun but you’ve got company.” they both mock jungkook. you laugh out loud, only now realizing how many times jungkook has called you baby ever since he stepped foot in the house.

jungkook releases his hands from you, his eyes go wide as he’s surprised by who’s in front of him. he then runs to hug his brothers. they all jump while hugging. you watch them with the biggest smile on your face. moments later, jungkook stretches out one of his arm for you to join, which you gladly do. the four of you are all circled in a tight hug, jumping up and down in the little circle. reunited after one long year, this is definitely a moment to take in.

“what’re you guys doing here? no one told me you were coming?” jungkook asks as you all slowly release each other from the hug.

“happy early birthday!” jimin says while ruffling jungkook’s hair.

“it was all y/n’s idea. we just wanted to surprise you little bro,” taehyung said as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“surprise!” you say with a big smile on your face looking at jungkook.

jungkook looks at you and quickly lifts you up, spinning you around. “thank you thank you thank you!!” he gives you a big fat kiss on the lips as he puts you back down. you laugh after. finally he gets to kiss you.

“anything for you, you big baby,” you say pinching his cheeks. he gets slightly embarrassed of the word now because he gets remembered of everything he said and did ever since he came home.

he turns to his brothers pointing his fingers at them. “you guys heard nothing.”

your cheeks turn pink from embarrassment. his brothers look at you while laughing. you cover your face with your hands hiding from your embarrassed face. they’re not the only one who heard everything, you three think.

“aw come on stop laughing. it was nothing funny,” jungkook says to the guys as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“well we’re not the only ones who found it funny” jimin winks at jungkook while taehyung bites his fist in his teeth holding himself from excessively laughing.

“w-what do you mean?” jungkook looks at you three confusedly. “who else heard?”

“close your eyes okay?” you say softly to him and he looks at you in confusion but complies nonetheless. you take his hand and slowly guide him to your back patio. jimin slides the door open while taehyung turns on the fairy lights you set up earlier today. it brightens up the entire patio space. jungkook can sense the change in lighting and squints his eyes.

“no peeking!” you exclaim and cover his eyes with your right hand. the other hand still holding onto jungkook so he doesn’t fall or get hurt. some of your nieces and nephews giggle. everyone is already out of their hiding spots and waiting to surprise jungkook.

“baby what did i just hear?” jungkook asks.

“you’ll see on the count of three okay?”

you look around and make sure everything is in place. all of the tablewear, flowers, candles and jungkook’s favorite foods displayed neatly on the long table. in the back near the pool are his cake and favorite desserts on the dessert table, and his gifts set on a different table. you even bought a cute bunny piñata because the kids (and jungkook) would definitely love it. your theme for today was just a nice, comfy, and chill outdoor party and with the help of your in-laws you were able to achieve that. it was everything you pictured~something you knew jungkook would love.

you nod at everyone so they were ready. you release your hands from jungkook’s face.

“okay 3…2…1…”

“SURPRISE!!!” you and everyone yell to jungkook when he opens his eyes. he opens his mouth wide in shock and immediately runs to hug his parents.

“i missed you guys sooo much.”

“we know sweetie. we did too.” his mom says and kisses his cheek.

“happy birthday son. we’re so proud of you.” his dad says shortly after.

you see jungkook’s eyes glistening and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears. you knew how much he missed his family and seeing them after so long would definitely make him feel emotional. he hugs his brothers and their spouses after, and then all of his nieces and nephews.

“i can’t believe you guys are all here. this doesn’t feel real. thank you guys seriously. this is the best birthday gift i could’ve asked for.”

you’re all touched by jungkook’s words. he has worked hard non stop all his life but seeing him now following his dream and working on things he is so passionate about is even more admiring. leaving everything behind back home was an extremely difficult decision for him. when he got the job offer in New York for one of the biggest gaming companies in the world, he was stoked, but knowing that he’d have to leave his family, his home, behind him was definitely not an exciting feeling. he was extremely grateful though to have you by his side but he did feel bad that you had to leave everything behind too, even though you constantly reminded him that wherever he is, you are there too. jungkook waited for the day he’d see his family again, so he looks at everyone taking in this joyous feeling.

“don’t thank us honey, your beautiful wife planned all of this. you are truly lucky to have y/n by your side.” you gush at his mom’s words and let out a soft “thank you” to her going over to give her a hug.

jungkook comes over to you and smiles so endearingly you feel like crying because how can your husband look so precious. he pulls you in a tight hug and whispers “i’m so lucky.”

the rest of the night is spent beautifully with everyone eating, singing, dancing, laughing, and partying. jungkook is having so much fun with his family and you look at him fondly with the biggest smile plastered on your face. how did you get so lucky to have such an amazing and caring husband, along with a beautiful family who adores you just as much as you do them.

when you go back inside to the kitchen to grab more drinks, you feel a light smack to your butt. you gasp turning around and finding your husband with a smirk on his face that you know too well. he pulls you to the corner where no one can see you guys through the glass doors.

jungkook lifts you up and hugs you so tight you start giggling. “thank you so much baby. i really don’t know what i did to deserve you. but just know i will continue to spend everyday of my life loving you and caring for you. you seriously don’t know how much you mean to me y/n.”

“i do jungkook, i do know and you mean the world to me and more,” you say as he settles you back down. you cup his face and pull him in a chaste kiss that’s sweet and tender. the one where all sounds are blocked and it’s just the two of you. he deepens the kiss and pulls you in closer, one hand on your waist, the other on your nape. you pull back not too long and stare at him, fingers brushing his soft, fluffy hair that’s parted in the middle. “i love you so much my love. happy birthday.”

[steviewashere]

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Losing Dogs

❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: originally titled "Baby", this is a rewritten version of yandere caregiver seonghwa (my beloved fucking psycho)

Baby Series!

✃... "You are; and always will be — His Baby." ... ✃

♫"You're my baby, say it to me." Mitski, I Bet on Losing Dogs

✫彡wordcount: 6k (a whole 2k more than the original 😟)

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, HEAVY angst i would go as far as to say whumpage

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: stockholm syndrome, mind breaking, extreme spanking, mentions of bribery, mommy hwa (i still cannot help myself two years later), hwa is NOT SANE, everyone is morally grey, age regressor reader(is actually an adult), baby and jongho bff agenda 🐻, mingi needs a hug good gawd DAYUM i be putting him through the ringer, trauma bonding, non-sexual nudity, screaming, baby and ming DEFINITELY have ptsd and san probably does too, this is a toxic ass household ngl

is hwa genuinely sorry or is he manipulating baby? flip a coin and find out

✩index: little space - a regressed state of mind where one feels like a child. little / age regressor - a person who has a little space. hyung - an older male friend or sibling, used by other males.

➯disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    "I'm home!" Seonghwa calls out as he enters the apartment, looking around as he takes off his shoes, "sorry I'm late!" Usually by now, you'd be running to greet him. Mingi or San would have yelled back to say hello. 

    "Hello? Baby?" He peeks his head into the kitchen, where dinner is untouched on the stove.

    "San?" He shuffles to the living room; the news channel on mute.

    "Mingi-ya?" Maybe you were in another one of the apartments. You have been spending a lot of time with Jongho.

    Your voice makes his heart drop. "No!" From his room at the end of the hall, you shout it with a bone rattling rage.

  

      He's already running down the hallway when he hears a thud and a yell of pain from his younger friend.

   "Baby?! Baby!" He grabs the doorway as he slides to a stop, taking in the scene in front of him with wide eyes.

     "Hey, please calm down," San whispers, to which you shake your head from where it's hidden in your knees while you press yourself into the wall by the bed. One of your bottles is on the floor at Mingi's feet, and he's holding his arm with a pout. "Hwa is going to be back soon, please, please, don't-"

    "Baby?"

   All three of your eyes snap towards him, and you cower further into the wall; fear evident in your eyes. He doesn't like that one bit.

"Hyung!" Mingi steps in front of his view, as if to shield you.

    "C'mon, peanut, please," San whispers as he leans over the bed to pull you away from the corner, only to be kicked at again.

   "Did she throw that at you?" Seonghwa asks as he connects the bottle on the floor to the reddening skin on Mingi's arms.

    "Well... yes, but, Hyung-"

"Baby, why would you do that?" He picks up the bottle and slowly sits on the edge of the bed, reaching for you.

     You only respond by kicking at his hand with your Hello Kitty socked feet, sniffling and breathing deeply. You refuse to let him get close.

    So he turns his attention back to his roomates; both looking an equal mix of scared and sad, guilty even. "What happened? Is she hurt?" He wants to wring them by their necks, really. He wants to scream for answers. How dare they make his precious angel cry? But you hate when he raises his voice, so he takes a deep breath. "Mingi?"

     The youngest man looks down, sniffing back his own tears.

   "San?"

   "Hyung... We- honestly, we didn't mean to upset her! It was an honest mistake-" He's stumbling over his words, trying to think of a way to put this that will have neither you or them in trouble. He truly feels for you, so does Mingi.

    But it's been months. It's been six and a half months. If they would or could have helped you really get away, they'd have done it by now. Maybe they were cowards for not calling the police that first night. Or maybe they were just selfish. They didn't want their eldest Hyung to be locked away. They didn't want everything they worked so hard for to be torn away. Or maybe, they're just as scared of him as you are.

He's taking too long, Seonghwa decides. He turns back to you, his hand finding your knee before you can kick it away. "What happened, Baby?"

    That little touch makes you fucking snap. A full flip from terrified of the man and back to the rage he heard a few moments ago.

     You throw his hand off of you, and he lets it fall back to his side as he watches in shock; his fingers twitching against the soft sheets.

    You sit up on your knees, making yourself look bigger than you actually are — as you scream obscenities in his face.

    Every curse word in your vocabulary is thrown his way as you go yell how you are not, in fact, His Baby. Even some ones that the men have never heard as you shout that you don't love him. You don't like San, or Mingi- actually, you hate all of his members. They're all cowardly bastards and he is their sick fuck of a leader — those are your exact words as you throw the stuffed bear Jongho made with you at his face.

    It hits him on the nose and lands on the floor. His eyes follow it, and don't seem to move after that.

    Swears are tumbling out as you say how much you hate it here. You miss your home. You miss your friends. You even miss your job. You want a hug from old Miss Lee.

    It turns back into rage within an instant. He's forced to listen as you insult his character directly now. Forget about the members, forget about the things you miss. Forget about everything and everyone else; right now you need to let Park Seonghwa know how much you loathe him.

    You say he's a freak, he's a pervert. Sick in the head for all the things he's done. There's not a therapist in the whole wide world that could cure him. You can't stand to look at him. He's annoyingly overbearing. You wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire. You'd shoot him twice if you and him were locked in a room with a hungry lion. You aren't His Baby. You aren't even his girlfriend anymore. He's delusional.

    San and Mingi watch aghast, jaw dropped and eyes wide as you scream. You're crying so fast and so violently with emotion that your tears create streams down your cheeks that connect on your jaw; going on to drip onto the collar of your baby blue dress.

Seonghwa doesn't dare look at you as you vent your emotions. The words ring around his head like a church bell. You can't possibly mean all of this. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He loves you. He gives you the world and only ever expects your love in exchange.

    He thought he had it — your love. It had been months since your last outburst. He, really all of them, thought your defiance had passed. That they could all pretend this was semi-okay.

     You let him play with your favorite toys that nobody else was allowed to touch. You gave him kisses and hugs. You let him care for you, you can't mean these things — right? You let him give you baths and do your hair. You let him do everything. He went to sleep with you in his arms and woke up the same way.

      "Yah!" You screech, grabbing his neatly fluffed pillow and hurling it at his already lowered head. "Do you even hear me? Park Seonghwa! I hate you!"

   The world stops the millisecond the word passes your lips.

    You stop screaming; only panting and crying as you see the visible shift in his aura. He goes from unreadable to fucking pissed in a snap.

    Mingi backs into San, their eyes as wide as yours.

    As you realize what you've done, you slap a hand over your mouth.

    It's deadly silent in the room. In the apartment. It seems like the Earth has ceased it's spinning. 

   Not only could you hear a needle drop, you can hear as a single tear falls from his eye and collides with the hardwood.

    Both of them look at him. You look at him. He only looks at the floor.

   His shoulders tense up and his breathing gets shallow.

    He stands up, almost robotically. You slam yourself back into the wall, watching him closely. He picks up his pillow and dusts it off before putting it back where it belongs.

   "Hyung...?" San dares to whisper, but he doesn't get a response.

    Seonghwa picks up the bear and presses his lips together, taking another deep breath as he pushes back his hair. "Come get your bear."

    You shake your head as he finally meets your fearful gaze. He's so mad that steam may as well be coming out of his ears. "Come here," he commands with a flat tone before he snaps, yelling suddenly, "get the fuck over here!"

    You flinch before jumping into action, though the action is a slow crawl to the edge of the bed.

   Mingi jolts as well, grabbing Sans arm and giving him a look that begs him to intervene.

    But San knows better than to poke an angry bear.

    "Baby," his voice is back to a barely contained rage hiding under a sickly sweet syrup, "do you have any idea how many rules you just broke?"

    "I d- I'm s-sorry," you stammer as he cups your heated and wet face.

    "Raising your voice, throwing things, hitting people, being mean, talking about before, saying naughty words," he squishes your face in his hands as he glares at you, "you're acting like a goddamn brat!"

    Mingi doesn't know what to do, he feels like his body isn't responding to his mind. His mind wants to knock Seonghwa over the head and run away with you in his arms. But his body seems to remember the pain of the last time he tried to help you even slightly. He's stuck. He's stuck.

   "Hyung, maybe you should take it easy-" San speaks up quietly from Mingi's side.

    "Don't get me started on you two! You stay there and shut up, I'll get to you," he snaps his head to face them, getting a glimpse of the outrage that your forced nose to nose with, "I'm taking care of My Baby first. You know I can't let bad behavior go untreated."

    He lets go of your face and grabs your collar when you go scramble away, keeping you in place. "six rules, baby. All in... what, ten minutes? Do you really want to make it seven by running away?" You shake your head. He isn't pleased with that answer. "Do you?!"

    "No." You manage to squeak out past the lump in your throat that's limiting your air flow.

    He lets go of you and backs up. "Bend over the bed."

    "Wait, pl-"

    "Before I get the paddle."

    He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't have to. He just watches as you move at a turtles pace; like these few extra seconds will save you.

    After an incident in the early days involving an unlocked window and some sheets, you don't ever want to even see the paddle again.

     He doesn't make you move faster. He just stands a few inches away, deadly silent. He only speaks up when you look to the others beggingly. "You aren't allowed to look at them anymore."

    It had been a rule when you first arrived. You only got that privilege a few weeks ago and you were kissing it goodbye. You figured it was probably to make you feel isolated, to forget the fact that these were people. People who could help you if your puppy dog eyes worked hard enough.

Mingi is still holding back his tears, sniffing quietly. Even Sans breathing sounds anxious; like if he moves a muscle that he's next on his Hyungs list.

   You stand with your back to Seonghwa, your knees touching the edge of the bed. You don't want to bend over. You're afraid. He's never spanked you when he was this angry. You're starting to regret your words already. "Please-"

    "Jesus!" He huffs, clearly fed up with your stalling, "bend over, Baby." He shoves your torso over the bed, the stuffed bear landing next to you.

    San and Mingi avert their eyes as Seonghwa flips up the skirt on your dress. They may be complacent with his actions, but they certainly don't enjoy or agree with them. They'll never cross that line. They, all seven of the younger members, promised it. Never look at you when you were vulnerable like that. Never touch you. Never help him hurt you directly.

     Most of them even decided it would be best to help you however possible without ruining all of their lives in the process. Getting you small gifts. Sneaking you snacks or an extra hour of games or cartoons. Stealing you away to their dorms to play and "babysit" to "give Seonghwa a break."

    But there was nothing they could do when Seonghwa told you to do something. Come to bed early. Let him wash your hair. Give him a kiss. Sit on his lap. Bend over.

    So they couldn't do anything but look away with heavy weight on their hearts.

    The sound of Seonghwa quite literally ripping your panties off your body makes them cringe. Your cries for Mingi to help you remind him of the first night Seonghwa had stolen you away from the world. They make him want to disappear forever.

    The way you plead for their help makes San feel like curling up into a ball and never moving again.

    "Ming! Ming, please, don't let him hurt me!" You claw at the blanket as Seonghwa traps you with one of his legs on either side of you. "Please, I'm sorry! Sannie, I- ow!!"

    Seonghwa doesn't even start easy on you. Smack after smack is landed on your bottom harshly.

    "Please!" You don't know who you're crying for. It doesn't matter, does it? Nobody is coming to save you, that's what you realize as the man you once would have trusted with your life spanks you with so much force that it aches all the way through to your hip.

    You grab the teddy bear and hug it to your chest tightly as you scream with each of his thwacks.

    For the briefest, beautifulest second — you think he's done when he's left one of your cheeks stinging and burning and the sound of the smacks pauses.

    Pauses. Because that was just him moving to get a better angle on your other side.

    "Mommy!" You sob loudly; and the sound officially makes Mingi cry. He can't hold his tears any longer. He turns his body away completely to try to distance himself from the abuse.

    San reaches and wraps his pinky around his; his head similarly hung low with shame and sadness.

   It does little to comfort either of them. But it reminds them of the promise they made all of those months ago.

   All of their pinkies locked together; they promised to do their best for their obviously challenged Hyung.

    Both of your cheeks bruising and hot to the touch, he finally backs up. You don't know how many hits you took, and he doesn't know how many he gave. But you both know that it was more than five per broken rule; which he promised was all he'd ever give when you first broke one.

     He moves his legs from either side of you and lets you crumble to the floor in a heap of breathless sobs.

    He haphazardly pulls your skirt to cover you before he leaves you alone completely; letting you blubber into your arms without an ounce of comfort to give you.

   He looks down at his palm as he steps over you. It's as red and angry as he was.

   He slowly looks up at the men. "Tell me what happened."

    Mingi wipes his face roughly with his sleeve, standing up straight as San finally reveals what set you off.

    "We were going to watch a movie, but... she saw it before we could change the channel."

    "What? What did she see?"

    "Her missing persons photo. Her best friend was talking about her..."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

It was quiet in the apartment after you finally managed to stop your cries, making yourself stop sobbing and snotting everywhere.

No noise at all. If you hadn't know better, you'd think they all left. But you do know better. Seonghwa refused to ever leave you alone.

Even if they were all busy. When they all had to practice or film, you went with them and sat in the corner and stayed out of the way of the camera "like a good girl", he'd say.

If it was a performance or a recording with people who weren't apart of the company, you were hidden out of sight in the van or backstage. Being watched over by someone who'd coincidentally gotten a raise.

You stayed right there on the floor for the longest time, sobs of anguish turning into defeated sniffs.

Oh, you really outdid yourself this time.

Even at his angriest, he never left your side when there was a tear in your eye; even if he was the cause.

You know he has a zero tolerance policy for that word. An immediate five smacks to the behind, regardless where you were or who was around.

Hate. Ironically, it could be said that he hated it. Especially when it came from your precious lips.

You once said you hated a movie in a casual conversation with Yeosang. And Seonghwa overheard you. He spanked you then and there. He didn't care that all of the members were there, watching you cry out apologies as he hit you over your overalls.

Zero tolerance.

And you aimed it right at him and fired.

And now, deep into the night, he still hasn't come back. You're starting to wonder if your tidal wave of curses and insults broke the last string of humanity around his heart. If he might have killed San and Mingi and that's why it's so quiet. If he's planning on how to kill you, too.

Your body screams in protest as you force yourself up. Yelling all the way as you crawl your way to the pink tent in the corner of the room — right out of sight of his computers camera.

It's placed ontop of soft play mats and filled with childish things that Seonghwa had collected for you and gifts from the other members. Maybe they gave them to you to say they were somehow on your side, or as a peace offering after betraying you.

The softest throw blankets. Pillows of various shapes and sizes; your favorite of which tucked under your head, cradling your face with the faux fur. A small box of your favorite pacifiers and toys that nobody was allowed to touch. You had to be distracted when Seonghwa cleaned them or else you'd throw a fit.

You tug the ribbon keeping the sheer fabric on the side open undone. Like it will shield you. Like it will undo what's been done.

Maybe, in your fragile and breaking mind, it will.

He never comes in here. Only reaches in once every other week to get the blankets and wash them or grab the pacifiers to clean them while you're with the others.

You curl up on your side and find yourself crying all over again as you think about that.

Maybe... just maybe, Seonghwa actually does care about you. In his own fucked up, delusional way. It's not right, and the logical part of you knows that. It's not healthy. But in his sick mind, he's doing the absolute best he can for his precious girl.

You can still see Seonghwa in his room when he's not there. Maybe that's why you hate being stuck in here. Why you always beg the members to let you hang out with them.

It's so neat. So color coordinated. Grey and white and warm lights.

You're the only exception, you come to see. Toys and books and crayons strewn about in your little corner of his world. Your coloring books. Your clothes which you had thrown in your rage before he got home. Your stuffed animals laying around. Your ripped panties and tears and snot on the floor.

You're the only exception. Maybe that's why you get so upset when you slip out of the little space he's made for you. You know you don't fit seamlessly into his life. You know it. You don't belong here.

But you can't leave.

So maybe you should make the best of your shitty situation.

With a groan of effort, you push yourself back up.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    It's even deeper into the night when he finally returns. He turns the key and opens the door quietly. It's 2:36.

    Which means it's a long time past your bedtime. You've become so accustomed to it that he figures you're probably fast asleep; especially with the stress of earlier.

    And he's right. The ceiling light is turned off, but you've kept on the lamp on the bedside table. You were probably scared of the dark but didn't want to completely defy his lights out rule.

     His heart sinks as he sees you. A pang of regret hitting him right where it hurts. You're curled up on your side, sleeping on his half of the bed and holding his pillow tightly. Your closed eyes are still swollen from the amount of tears you'd shed, even though hours have passed at this point.

    He takes a shaking breath as he notices that last fact. He doesn't even want to fathom how much he'd hurt you. His anger got the best of him and deep down it hurts because he knows it wasn't the first time.

    He's done it to everyone. His members. His family. Himself.

    The darkest parts of him reach in from the recesses of his mind, saying that you'll never forgive him. That he's ruined everything he's worked towards. His Baby is better off without him.

   He's quick to slap them away as he slowly crawls over you and into bed. He pauses before he lays down, and looks around.

    Something is off. Something is different.

    Everything is in place.

    All of your toys and books and coloring supplies are on the shelf where he puts them during his Sunday resets. All of your clothes are folded and sat on his desk in neat piles. All your stuffed animals are lined up around your tent, only your very favorites on your side of the bed.

    Your tears and snot wiped up and your ripped panties in the bin.

    "Oh, My Baby..." he immediately lays on his side and carefully gathers you into his arms, holding your torso close and being careful not to touch your undoubtedly aching bottom.

    He can't stop the tears. He can't help but cry, though his tries to do so quiet so you can rest, "My Baby..." He bites his tongue. He wants you to rest, you need it. But the smallest noise, the littlest movement wakes you up in your delicate state.

   When you groan sleepily, stirring awake — he expects you to crawl away when you feel his familiar arms around you.

   But you don't.

   You do nearly the opposite, actually. You peek over your shoulder, making sure you aren't imagining the weight of his arms around you.

 

     When you see him, you roll over with a whine and shimmy into his arms, you bury your face in his sweater and hold onto the fabric gently.

    "Hey, sweet girl," he coos hoarsely, gently rubbing your back.

   You were right, earlier. You weren't left alone. Seonghwa stormed off to the apartment two floors down to Hongjoong. San and Mingi were comforting each other in the living room, trying to ignore your muffled sobs after he slammed the door and locked it.

    While they sat in silence, Seonghwa screamed and screamed until he couldn't breathe.

   Eventually, Hongjoong and Wooyoung managed to calm him down. Then they talked and talked. Wooyoung suggested, very lightly, that maybe you should spend the night in one of the other apartments.

   Then he screamed some more, even lunged at the man.

   All this time, your night time routine had never changed. All this time, he never let you out of his arm while he slept. Even that first night, the first week, when you thrashed and fought and cried until you passed out from exhaustion — you did so in his arms.

   "Mommy." It's a simple word. An acknowledgment. But it calms him. Makes his heart thud in a different way. He takes pride in that name. And it makes him unbelievably happy that you can still call him that after what he's put you through.

   "Are you okay, Baby?" He knows. He knows the answer is no. But he'll give you a chance to speak for yourself. To tell him how to help. What to do to have a sliver of a chance in Hell to redeem himself.

   "M'hungry... an' it hurts..." You peek up at him, sniffling, "m'sorry I said those mean things to you and Ming and Sannie... I'm sorry I was a brat."

   "Come on, Sweetpea," he lifts you up, and you instinctively koala hug onto him; your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. "Mommy will take care of you."

   The night time ritual starts now, a pattern of familiarity to calm both of your shot nerves.

    He scoops up a pillow from the couch on the way to the kitchen table, and sits it down on your chair before delicately lowering you down. It still hurts. Everything hurts. You'll be sitting in their laps for two weeks, at the very least.

    You eat in silence. Usually you'd talk about the day and the next one's plans. He'd ask if you were good when he wasn't around. You'd ask how work was, if he had any new songs to sing you.

    But neither of you have any words. You can't find them. You only want to be in each other's peaceful company.

    He clears the table, which is usually your chore. You know he feels bad for what he did. He always insists on you doing your chores for a sense of purpose or being. But he knows it will hurt if you try to stand. It will hurt when you try to do anything.

    He made sure that you'll be feeling the same pain he did.

   "C'mere, baby-doll," he lifts you back into his arms and cradles your head to his shoulder. No matter how many times you've insisted that you can walk, he insists right back that his precious girl must be carried.

    You pass Mingi on the way to the bathroom. His posture is slumped and his eyes are bloodshot. But he can't help the small smile that tugs on his lips as you give him a tiny wave over Seonghwa's shoulder.

   The pillow goes down on the counter, then you. He starts your meticulous skincare.

    You then him, over and over. Face wash, toner, serum, the list goes on until you're brushing your teeth together.

    When all is said and done, squeaky clean for the night, he likes to massage your face. He says it's good for blood flow, which is true. But he does it for a simpler reason.

   Your face in his hands. A chance to admire you at the end of the day. No matter what the world threw at him, he would always have you in his hands at the end of it. He can always count on this.

   He cups your cheeks while standing between your legs, rubbing gently. "My Baby," he whispers; so quietly that you actually miss it. You're too busy melting into his soft affection. "You're My Baby."

    "Mhm," you moan quietly, blinking your eyes open to look up at him. "Mh?"

    "Say it to me." He says. Asks. Pleads.

    He rest his forehead on yours, holding your face like you're a doll made of glass. His eyes growing wet with tears as he uses yours as window into the depths of your soul. And what he sees is relieving. Softness and warmth that swirls around him in a form of comfort that only you can provide.

    "I'm your Baby," you nod against his forehead lightly, "I'm your Baby, Mommy."

   He nearly collapses to the floor as his shoulder finally relax. His blood warms with happiness as he hears those words.

    You're all he's ever wanted. All he needs. All he feels that he truly has. The one part of his life that he won't let the world corrupt.

    He knew it the moment he saw you. Knew that he had to be with you. Love at first sight. You were so beautiful, so soft and kind. So trusting of the world. He was hit with a feeling he can only describe as pure love and heart attack inducing anxiety. He loves you so much, how can he ever rest if he doesn't know for certain that you're safe? What if you had gotten hurt when he wasn't there? What if you left him? He'd never forgive himself. He'd never move on.

   So he took matters into his own hands.

   He'd never felt it before. And never since. He knows he'll never feel this way about someone else, something else. Nothing but you. But his Baby. He'll never love like he loves his Baby. Never. Never. Never.

    "Mommy," you wipe his tears before they can fall down his face, "you gonna wash away all the stuff you jus' put on."

    He can't help the soft chuckle he lets out, leaning into your touch. It leaves a tingle on his skin. "You're right, Baby."

     You have the tiniest smile playing at your lips, holding his face as he holds yours.

   He gently, oh so gently, places a kiss to your freshly strawberry flavored lips before the routine continues.

    He leaves you to do your business while he collects your pajamas, and when he comes back; he finds you rubbing your bottom with a pout.

    "Oh, Baby! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he quickly drops the clothes on the counter and crouches, searching under the sink frantically, "it must have hurt on the toilet, I'm sorry."

   "Yeahm," you whine a simple response as you watch him sit a tube of cream on the counter.

   "C'mere, sweetpea," he helps you rid your tear stained dress as you eye the ointment. He pets your hair before going to grab it, "bend over, Baby."

   Those simple words have you spiraling all over again, "no! Mommy, I've been good!" You hold your arms over your naked chest and give him your saddest puppy dog eyes, already shaking.

    "No, no, no," he shakes his head quickly, gathering you into a hug tenderly, "shhhh, shhh. It's okay, sweet girl. Mommy isn't going to hit you again. Shhhh, that's it. Just breathe, Baby." He tucks your head under his chin as he shushes you, "it's okay... I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to put some numbing cream on your bottom, okay? It will make you feel better. I won't hurt you, Mommy promises."

   "P-promise?"

   "I promise."

    You hesitantly bend over the counter and are relieved to find that he's telling the truth. He's barely touching your sore and discolored behind enough to spread the cream, his touch is so light. He manages to apply the treatment without causing you another panic attack.

    "There you go, angel, see?" He wipes the numbing cream from his fingers before pulling you up gently. "See? All done."

    You watch as he closes the tube and sets it on the counter with your skincare. You know it will be apart of your routine until you've healed. It mocks you as you look at it. You'll have to hear those words every night.

    He sees you glaring daggers at it as he unfolds your sleep shirt. It's one that he doesn't let you wear often. One you got from Jongho when you spilt something on yours while in his care. But you love it. So he gently pulls it over your head and helps you put in on. "Baby," he hums, "you know you're my good girl, right?"

    You sniff as you force your eyes off of the cream, looking up at him. "I am?" You ask as you step into the panties he hands you. "But.. I made you so mad."

    "You are," he reassures you as he takes off his shirt, getting dressed in his own pajamas as he speaks, "you're always my good girl. Even when you make me mad, you're still My Baby. I w... I went a little hard on you tonight, I think. But, you handled it well. Cleaned up and apologized and let me take care of you."

   "Really?"

   "Really," he nods, tossing both of your dirty clothes into the basket while he continues with a soft tone, "you're the most precious thing in the whole wide world to me, you know that. And I know I hurt you, Baby... I haven't hurt you this bad since you tried to run away, right?"

     He gently tilts your head up with a finger to your chin, and you agree with a sad look in your eyes as you remember the first time you tried to run for the door. The scratches you had on your legs from where he yanked you back. The pain in your foot after he crushed it. "Yeah..."

    "Yeah, right? Mommy doesn't like to hurt you, sweet girl. But sometimes bad behavior needs to be corrected in a way that will stick in your little brain. Those were some very mean words you said to me. You didn't try to leave, but with those words you might as well have."

    You shuffle into his awaiting arms and hug him tightly, "M'sorry, Mommy. I don't- I don't know why I said that stuffs... I didn't mean it! You take such good care of me."

    "Shhh, don't cry now, beautiful," he caresses your head softly, a tender touch reserved only for you, "don't cry anymore, I forgive you." He kisses the top of your head a few times before picking you up and holding you close sweetly. "I forgive you, angel. Big emotions are hard for My Baby to handle, huh?"

   "Mhm," you nod against his shoulder, clinging to him as he opens the door.

    "Mhm," he smiles lightly at you as he slowly heads back down the hall to your room. "I want you to apologize to Ming and Sannie in the morning, okay? You acted up on their watch, so be my good girl and say you're sorry. Can you do that for me?"

    "Yes, Mommy," you yawn as soon as you see the bed, desperate for rest. Then your eyes flick to your tent. You're also desperate for comfort. "Mommy?" You whisper as he sets you down on the bed slowly, pointing to the pink shelter, "can sleep in my tent tonigh'?"

    "Oh, Baby, you know I have to hold you to sleep. You can have a nap in there tomorrow, how about it?"

    "Nuh, Mommy too," you blink up at him, "we sleep in my tent?"

   "Awe," he coos at how adorable you are so deep into your little space, and he can't help but agree, "of course, Baby."

    You nearly fling yourself out of the bed and crawl into the tent, already getting comfortable when he kneels and shuffles inside with you. He watches you with stars in his eyes as you slide under the obscene amount of throw blankets and hold them up for him.

    He cuddles you from behind as the blankets form a sort of soft and fluffy weight on top of you. They smell like you. Like love and happiness. The plushie you slide under his head does as well. It's warm and safe in here, the mats on the floor and the blankets keep you warm from the October weather. Your quiet, tranquil breaths lure him into a state of calm as he holds you tightly.

    He stays like that for a long time. Almost like he's meditating.

    He can see why you like it in here —

     He looks up and instead of the usual white ceiling, he's met with the pink fabric. Oh. He's actually in here.

    Ever since he set it up three months ago, only his arm has entered. You set a strict "BABY ONLY" policy. Not even Mingi was allowed in. Not even Yeosang. Or even Jongho, who was clearly your favorite.

     They were all confined to the mats outside of the tent.

   But you invited him in. You let him in. To your safe space.

     He thought after what he had done; you would be back at square one.

    But you went and proved him wrong. You cleaned up and apologized and you were a good girl. His good girl.

    You went ahead and proved to him that you are; and will always be —

    His Baby.

❝Losing Dogs❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

[rosecoloredsunshine]

hot ones — evan peters

masterlist

PAIRINGS: evan peters x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and evan decided to take on the hot ones spicy wings challenge.

REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, wedding talks, established relationship, reader is an 'unofficially retired' actress, fluff attempt, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this has been written more as a self-indulgent fic lol. my requests for evan fics are open, so if you have any, just send me an ask. hope you'll enjoy this one! :)

You and Evan are inside a sleek, industrial-chic studio of Hot Ones, and sitting across from Sean Evans with a row of perfectly arranged and intimidating glazed wings between you and Evan. The set’s familiar aesthetic—black brick backdrop and neon accents, brings a grin to your face. You have seen countless celebrities get wrecked by these fiery wings. Now, it’s your turn.

“You sure you wanna do this, babe?” his eyes glinting with playful concern. “I know how you feel about spicy food.”

“I’ve survived worse,” you quipped, but your grin falters slightly when you glance at the perfectly arranged wings. “Besides, I couldn't let you have all the fun.”

“You’ve got a very loose definition of fun,” he chuckled, corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Evan’s hand finds yours beneath the table, fingers intertwining together like second nature. Sean smiled with the kind of enthusiasm that comes from years of watching people suffer through the gauntlet, and clasped his hands together.

“Welcome to Hot Ones, the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today, we’ve got a special couple’s episode with none other than one of Hollywood’s most beloved couples!”

“Beloved,” you repeat with a laugh, leaning into Evan’s shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

“Right?” Evan grins, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “We must be doing something right.”

You and Evan turned towards the camera, with Evan giving a little wave to the camera, while you offered a sheepish smile.

“So,” Sean continues, “before we get into the heat, I gotta ask, how did you both end up agreeing to this? I know, from what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly a fan of spicy food.”

You laughed, already feeling your nerves dissipating. “Well yeah, I’m definitely not a fan. But I thought it would be a fun experience. Plus, Evan wanted to do it, and I couldn't let him suffer alone.”

Evan chuckles, squeezing your hand gently. “She’s braver than she thinks. I’m just here to make sure she doesn't regret it halfway through.”

“That’s true love right there,” Sean grins. “Alright, let’s start with the first wing.”

You and Evan each take a wing. It’s barely spicy, just a hint of heat, and you manage it with ease, earning an approving nod from Evan.

“That’s not bad,” you say, a bit more confident. “Famous last words.”

The three of you let out a laugh. Sean glances at his cue cards. “So, let’s kick things off. You two have been together for six years and recently got engaged. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you and Evan said in unison, making Sean laugh.

“Was the proposal a surprise?” Sean asked.

You glanced at Evan, a fond smile appearing on your lips. “Completely. We were on a trip to Japan for my birthday, and I thought that it was just a celebration for that occasion, but it turns out that Evan had this whole plan. I was completely caught off guard.”

Evan grins, remembering the memory. “She kept saying, ‘are you serious?’ like five times before actually saying yes.”

You nudged him lightly, laughing. “It was just a lot to process! I wasn't really expecting it.”

Sean leans forward, intrigued. “Was it nerve-wracking, Evan?”

“Oh absolutely,” Evan admits. “I was more nervous than when I go on set. But when she smiled, I knew that it was the right moment, and she did say yes, eventually.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, eventually.”

The next wing has a bit more kick to it, and you’re starting to feel a tingle on your lips. Evan had noticed immediately, and turned towards you.

“Doing okay?” he asked softly.

You nod, breathing out a little. “Still manageable.”

“You’re doing great,” Sean coaxed. “Since we're on the topic, you have any wedding plans set?”

You had exchanged a look with Evan, both of you smiling. “We’re keeping it small and intimate,” Evan says. “Close family and friends. We’re still working out the details, but we know it’ll be somewhere meaningful to us.”

“Can I expect an invitation?” Sean jokes.

You laughed softly, surprising yourself. “Sure, why not. We’ll make sure you get one.”

“Oh really? Thank you!” Sean smiled. “Okay, before we dive into the next wing, I have to ask, who’s the better cook between you two?”

Evan chuckled before you even got the chance to respond. “She is, hands down.”

You smiled. “You cook fine, babe. When you’re not burning grilled cheese.”

“Which happens?” Sean prompted, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Often enough that the smoke detector hates him,” you said with a laugh.

Evan raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, true. But her cooking is on a whole other level.”

Sean laughs. “I’d love to see you two do a cooking show together in the future. Maybe some spicy dishes next time?”

You groaned playfully, eyeing the next wing on the table. “I think after today, I’m going to avoid spice for a good while.”

“Speaking of the future,” Sean says, reaching for another cue card. “Since you’ve taken a step back from acting, and Evan’s still heavily involved, has that changed anything for you two? I mean, with you being away from the industry and all.”

You glanced at Evan and smiled softly. “I thought it would be difficult at first. But Evan’s always been supportive, and I decided to step back because I wanted to focus on other things. It’s given me time to explore other passions.”

“She still visits me on set, though,” Evan adds, eyes softening. “And everyone always loves having her around. I think the crew likes her more than me.”

You smiled softly. “They just like the cookies and muffins that I bring.”

Sean chuckles. “Seems like you two have a pretty solid dynamic. Which brings me to my next question, what’s the secret to making it work for so long? Six years is impressive in Hollywood years, it’s hard to reach that kind of longevity, especially that you both are in the industry.”

Evan turns to you, eyebrows raised as if the answer is pretty obvious. “We just get each other, and honestly, I think being best friends at first really helped. We’re ridiculously comfortable around each other.”

“Ridiculously is right,” you agree, smiling. “We’ve been through everything together. The good, bad, utterly chaotic, you name it. But we always talk things through.”

Sean nods thoughtfully. “Communication. A classic, but always true.”

The next wing awaits, and you hesitate before taking a bite of it. Evan watches you carefully, waiting to see how you would react.

When the heat hits you immediately, your eyes widen. “Oh, my god.”

Evan laughs, though he’s wincing through his own bite. “That’s…oof, wow.”

You reached for your water, but Evan already has the glass of milk ready for you. “No baby, drink this instead. The water makes it worse.”

You took the glass of milk gracefully, fingers brushing as you sip. “You’re the best.

“Always,” he replies, gaze lingering on you.

Sean smirks, taking in the moment. “Alright, I think we need to dig into something else before you both pass out from the heat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as your eyes begin to water. “Yes, please.”

“Evan, you’ve been killing it in all these dramatic roles. But do you ever see yourself doing something lighter? Maybe a rom-com?” Sean asks.

Evan shrugs, wiping his lips with a napkin. “Honestly? Maybe. I think it would be fun, why not. Especially if I could work with her again.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I mean, you’re an amazing actress, and I do miss working with you.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you momentarily speechless. Sean seems to pick up on it, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “So, any chance we’ll see you back on screen soon?”

You laughed nervously. “Maybe. I mean, I’ve been tempted, especially with Evan constantly trying to rope me back in.”

Evan smiled brightly. “We’ve joked about it a couple of times. But she’s hard to convince.”

“More like you haven't pitched me anything compelling enough,” you teased, taking a sip of the water. “You’d have to really sell it.”

“Oh, I can sell it,” Evan laughs. “Just wait, one of these days.”

The last wing was brutal. The second that you bite into it, your entire mouth feels like it’s on fire. You clutch Evan’s arm, face scrunching in pain as you try not to let the heat overwhelm you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, chugging the milk Evan hands you. “Why did I agree to this?”

Evan is faring only slightly better, tears pooling in his eyes. “Because you love me?”

“I might reconsider that after this,” you joked, voice a little hoarse.

Sean was laughing, clearly entertained by the chaos. “You guys survived!”

“I’m just glad I did this with you,” Evan says, rubbing your back gently as you recover. “Even if you hate me for it now.”

You glanced up at him, slight tears streaming down your face but still managing a smile. “Could never hate you.”

Once the video had wrapped up, you and Evan found yourselves hanging out backstage of the Hot Ones studio. You collapsed onto a couch with a tub of ice cream between you, as Evan watches you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, voice low and sincere.

“I did it,” you say, mostly to yourself than anyone else. “I actually did it.”

Evan leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You did, and you were amazing.”

“Guess we have to cancel our sushi dinner, because I’ll be feeling these spicy wings on my mouth for a good couple of hours,” Evan laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, still working through the lingering heat. “Next time, let’s just do a cooking show.”

Evan laughed again, wrapping an arm around you. “Deal.”

© rosecoloredsunshine, 2025