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itsnotgray · 1 year ago

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i’m literally stunned at the fluff i just read.

like my mouth dropped in the best way possible- this was freaking adorable🥹

the webs we spin

coho!jack hughes x fem reader

wc: 6.9K

warnings: swearing, drinking, alcohol, drunkenness, partial nudity, sexual innuendo/references, moderate NSFW scene (involves: degradation, dom/sub, name calling, taunting), fwb

a/n: this was inspired by the visuals/vibe in a (I THINK?) luke blurb where reader comes to get luke hughes when hes drunk (I THINK?) and i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it though i will scour for it and give credit where its due! (EDIT: its this johnny beecher blurb from the incredibly talented @lucafantilli pls go check it out and her writing in general!) this is obviously a college AU of current devils at the university of michigan so miles= miles wood, dawson= dawson mercer, john= john marino, and nico= nico hischier ofc ofc. the game referenced is actually from a wisco game from two seasons ago just a diff opponent lmao.

its a bit different than my normal/preferred writing style/voice but hopefully its still good! 🤞 enjoy!

italics are flashbacks

Y/N POV

Chaos is not how you choose to start your morning. Scratch that. It’s not how anyone chooses to start their morning. But you did choose to let Jack fall asleep next to you last night after he came over. And that is a choice you still don’t regret. Despite his choice to cause an absolute ruckus leaving for morning workout.

“Fuck Y/N where’s my hoodie?” Jack is frantically turning your bedroom on its head at a ripe 6:20am. You’re walking a fine line between helping/consoling him and telling him to shut the fuck up. God damn feelings makes it the former.

“Jacky hun, I’m literally wearing it, did you forget? Here, take it. Just grab me something else to wear from the dresser.” Cooing gently to try and calm the rancid energy in the room you cross your arms over your head and remove the Michigan emblazoned hoodie from your figure. You suppose you’re so comfortable around him, after he’s seen you naked so many times, that exposing your chest doesn’t give you pause. But it certainly gives Jack pause. His cheeks flush as he looks down at your breasts. He’s shy, as if he didn’t spend 10 minutes leaving marks on them last night. Seeing his reaction makes you blush, cause if he’s blushing shouldn’t you be too??

You raise a nervous arm to drape across your boobs, sheltering what you can from his beady gaze. The movement seems to bring reality back to the forefront of Jack’s mind. He sees you’re nervous now from his staring and feels a sinking in his chest; that’s the last thing he ever wants to make you feel. He clears his throat and spins on his heel toward your dresser. Fuck, he hopes he hasn’t made you insecure. He flings open a, frankly, unnecessary number of drawers until he finds some big t-shirts and picks one up. Jack, with corrected reaction and head held high now, treads over to you smiling softly. Instantly the fire on your face cools and you find enough confidence to hold his gaze. Gently he reaches for the hoodie and plucks it out of your tight grasp.

“Thank you, love. Here.” He drops the new shirt over your head, coaxing you to slide your arms through. It’s an intimate moment with him speaking so quietly and watching you with a renewed softness. Jack doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand against your cheek and lean down for a kiss. He holds you there for a moment and it feels all too domestic: your hockey player boyfriend leaving early in the morning for a workout, the soft touches and lingering stares. The claustrophobic feeling begins to rise, as much as you wish you could revel in the moment. You know it’s not real and you can’t convince yourself it is.

You break the kiss smiling at Jack to avoid suspicion of the strings you’ve attached yourself to him with. Jack smiles back, unaware of the ploy.

“Sorry umm sorry I fell asleep… well, no I mean I guess I’m more sorry for waking you up.” Jack stumbles over his own thoughts a little bit, revising as he goes. You don’t know whether to be brave or be safe. Given your heart’s armor is about as sturdy as some shitty copy paper right now, you decide to play it safe.

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry. Have a good workout, yeah?” Your gaze stays strong though, pleading for him to hear what you’d really wanted to say: ‘You know you can always stay the night. I like having you here.’ He nods curtly and mumbles out an affirmation, leaning down to slip on his shoes.

You don’t think it’s in your friends with benefits description to walk him to the door at 6:30am, so you curl back up on your bed, dragging the covers over your body.

Jack grabs his phone from where you’d plugged it in to charge last night (grey area behavior too) and pats down his hoodie pocket checking he has everything. Satisfied, he moves toward your bedroom door waving shyly as he steps out. You both bounce soft “bye”s off each other, like tentative echoes searching for something.

To be fair, the friends with benefits description has already been… well, edited I guess you could say. What started out as unspoken “Only when Jack doesn’t have practice” and “No staying the night” became “Only when Jack doesn’t have games the next day” and “No staying the night unless there’s early workout/class in the morning.”

One thing that hadn’t been revised: “This stays between us.” Who decided that one, you don’t know but that was just some kind of stupid rule for all of these types of situations, right? Maybe that’s just what you told yourself to keep from getting attached. Ha, wishful thinking that was.

Jack had been intriguing from the beginning. That hard fuckboy almost exterior was alluring; he knew just what to say and how and when and what smile to give you and the eyes to make. He was pre-planned, meditated, and that was obvious from the girls you’d seen him hand pick from the bar crowd, say a few lines to, and take home. But never the same girl twice. He didn’t really know you and never hand picked you from any of those aforementioned crowds but the fates had it in store for you regardless.

The stupidest trope really. Dumb jock has shitty grades. Prof targets smart punctual student to tutor him. A tale as old as time except you didn’t study at the library or the coffeeshop. No, from day one you invited Jack over to your place, thinking the environment of the library was much too sterile, not very helpful for making a struggling student feel comfortable. But it didn’t quite go how it normally does. He didn’t jump your bones the first time he came over. You didn’t fall into bed with him in a lustful craze and subsequently madly in love with the boy. Not even close.

He was nervous, quite painfully so the first few times. Whether it was the vulnerable environment getting tutored for a class you really shouldn’t be failing, knowing his cocky attitude or athlete title wouldn’t make a difference here, or how taken aback he was at how pretty you really were up close, the first three weeks were professional and timely. Only when you suggested he come over early for some coffee before starting studying and only after you offered he stay for some of the take out that had been delivered to you while he was there, did he start to relax. And even then, it was another two weeks before you texted outside of just arranging study times. For as methodical a pick up artist he seemed to be, this situation was clearly more of a tortoise over the hare type of deal.

In those stolen moments before and after studying, you slowly grew together and from strength to strength. He told you about his family when you shared details about your shitty highschool friends and he remembered that you were always most hangry on Wednesdays since you had kickboxing right before tutoring. It was natural really the way he started dropping his book down on the same side of the table right next to you rather than across, and how he would push your hair behind your ear when you were explaining something hunched over the textbook. It was so natural how you started to grab his bicep more when praising him for doing something right and how you would sit so close on the couch together afterwards that hushed whispers were the loudest you needed to speak. In fact, you’ll be damned if you actually remember the exact moment you went from friends to something more, the transition so seamless you don’t have a memory of the first time you kissed.

But eventually you did start to end up in bed together. Whether after your study session or maybe as a tiny break in between chapters or maybe “we just don’t even need to study because you seemed like you understood things well enough when you were here well… yesterday.”

“So I mean basically all this problem is about is supply and demand. There’s a lot of red herrings here that they’re trying to distract you with. Can you tell me what the product is and the initial supply and demand relationship? Before the market change?” You’re busy looking over the word problem trying to figure out how to step Jack through it next. But he’s taking an unusually long time to answer your question. You turn to look at him. Jack seems lost, but about what you’re not sure.

“Isn’t that a fish? A red herring?” He asks. You can’t help but sigh that THAT is all he decided to selectively hear from your initial question.

“Yes, Hughesy, but it’s also an expression that means a piece of information that is distracting from the main point. Kind of like what you’re doing right now.” The second part you mutter under your breath though and turn back to the book. More silence.

“...I’ve caught a tuna once, y'know.”

“Jack! Focus!” Your chastising facade is easily disintegrated by an accompanying giggle. Jack looks satisfied, a little grin on his face that matches yours. Always the class clown. He’s more than happy he got you to smile and stop your tutor act. Though he doesn’t like how you sigh in slight frustration while setting your pencil down. He reaches a hand out to touch your thigh. The gesture makes you shiver.

“Hey I’m sorry. I think I understand it already though, there was a really similar practice problem I did before hockey today.” His soothing tone is matched by the gentle movements of his thumb on your skin. It takes you a moment to really hear what he said but then you smile.

“You did practice problems today? Before practice? Without me assigning them to you?” You’re almost bashful when you ask, finally catching him in a moment of softness that you adored so much. It doesn’t go unnoticed by a blushing Jack either.

“Yeah I did. I don’t wanna look totally stupid when we study y’know.” It’s sassy as always. You can hear the vulnerability though, you know him too well now. His expression morphs into more of a smirk, one side of his lips pinned higher up than the other. Jack reaches out his unoccupied hand to toy with a piece of your hair before slipping it behind your ear. “Was also hoping we could spend some time doing something else if I already understood the chapter.” His voice is a few steps lower and his eyes have already drawn more hooded as he looks you over. He’s trying to find the answer in your eyes. You fight an inner battle between what’s in your pants and what’s in your head.

On one hand the past couple days of fooling around had been amazing but rationally you know this can’t end up being good for your tutoring situation. So do you give up or give in? As much as you wish the personal turmoil to be more prolonged, you think you already made up your mind how today would end when you first let Jack into your apartment looking so good in that backwards hat and flannel combo. You want him. He’s only empowering you with the way he’s running his hungry eyes over you. Fuck it. Professional tutoring and casual sex could both coexist right? Even so, you know the clench in your heart wasn’t from nerves but a clairvoyant reaction to how knotted this web would end up.

In an attempt to stamp down the thought, you surge forward to kiss Jack. He’s ready to meet your lips, catching you in a soft but intent kiss. It’s only an extended moment before you pull away. His lips chase yours and the smirk that used to be on his face is now transferred to yours. You stand up.

“You coming?” It’s a rhetorical question tossed over your shoulder on your way to your bedroom. No chance in hell he wouldn’t follow.

“Not right now Y/N geez. I can last at least 20 minutes, you know that.” Jack is quick to joke, wrapping his arms around you from behind and waddling as a pair toward your room.

“Eww Hughes, I hate you.” You can’t help but laugh. His lips find their way to your neck and you can feel his smile.

“Shh I bet you won’t be saying that in 19 minutes and 55 seconds, pretty.”

Jack was so gentle, he took his time to learn your body and constantly praise you for being so good for him. And after he learned you, you learned him, how he was rougher after games and always enjoyed a sneaky bout of morning sex. You never bothered to ask if he was seeing other girls too and frankly didn’t want to pain yourself with the thought. While Jack was with you, he was yours and that was enough.

Things were sticky from the get go. He’d always linger to ensure some pillow talk and maybe make you giggle a few times before he felt truly satiated. There were even times he’d come over after a tough loss and just follow you into the shower where you’d wash his body and let him hold you tenderly as long as he needed. Jack would bring you coffee when he knew you’d had an 8am and ask about how your sibling was doing. If you were really honest with yourself, you’d felt those butterflies and that childlike glee to just be in his company from that third week when you’d asked him to come early for coffee. Call it self destruction but knowing you could have him like this, however, taboo and hush hush it is, is better than what you were before when he didn’t even know you existed and what you might’ve been if he’d picked you as just another one of his conquests.

---

Jack's POV

The boys are already raging by the time Jack rolls up with John and Dawson. ‘It’s a weekend tradition,’ they say, to have a house party whenever they don’t have a Saturday game, since those occasions are so sparse. Obviously in between these off weekends are normal parties but those are much more lowkey. Normally, he’d be down but they haven’t had one of these full on ragers in like a month and a lot has happened in the last month.

Jack really wishes you could be here, or that he didn’t have to be… your bed is so comfy. But it’s more than her god damn bed. From day one you never patronized him or made him feel stupid for not understanding fucking econ 102. You were entirely what Jack wasn’t looking for but desperately needed at just the right time. Some stability, a person separate from the rink. Trustworthy, someone who didn’t get to know him just for hockey. You’re smart and fuck… so gorgeous. It was really intimidating at first, trying to understand something he didn’t give a rat’s ass about while a pretty girl who didn’t know how pretty she was looked at him through her big glasses. After a while it wasn’t intimidating any more, just so god damn distracting. Always getting him coffee, doing things to make his life easier, hugging Jack so tight when he’d come and go.

If he was honest he’d been hoping to get into bed with you from like the second week, but he knew you weren’t that type of girl, the type he normally would take home for one night and one night only. He’d known you were different and he wanted that; he wanted you. And for more than just a single fuck. So he’d waited. You were so gentle with him and Jack swears it’d felt like he’d just smoked a whole j by myself when you kissed him finally. At least he thinks it was you that kissed him first… Maybe Jack had actually smoked a whole j before coming over, you made him so fucking nervous at first. Not anymore though. Now you just make him smile and laugh and feel warm.

He seems like a fucking simp which would be fine if he and you weren’t in the trenches of no man’s land right now. He doesn't really do this type of thing, the whole relationship thing. But he does want that with you, he just doesn't know how and he doesn't know if you want him too. Jack’s always worried you might see him as just his reputation. He’s worried you won’t be able to trust him not to hurt you. But you don’t hurt the people you love.

Every moment you’re not with him he feels like he’s looking for you (like right now) and that’s because time spent with you doing nothing is always better than time spent without you. Jack’s so fucking into you it hurts and drives him a little crazy but he’d rather stay in between than lose you completely.

“Holy fuck did you hear a word of that Hughes?” Nico shakes Jack’s shoulder and he knows he’s been caught in his daze. He tries to recover from looking like an absolute space cadet.

“Nah dude I’m never usually listening when you talk, haven’t you noticed?” This causes some chuckles and a punch to the shoulder from Nico, but he smiles at Jack anyway. “We getting some drinks here or what boys?” He asks, trying to push the conversation away from his la la land behavior. The group moves en masse toward the open bar that one of their other teammates set up. Jack doesn't escape the attention for long though.

“Haven’t seen you pick anyone up in a while? Something wrong with the little guy?” John chirps, giving Jack a crotch punch. Miles laughs so hard from over the shot glasses he spills some of the Tito’s he was pouring out.

“Fuck off John no. Just haven’t been feeling like a random fuck lately.” Jack scratches the back of his neck for once hating all the fucking eyes on him.

“Haven’t been feeling like it? Has hell frozen over?” Nico absolutely refuses to let it go. Jack doesn't even know what to say so he just turns and glares at him reaching for a filled shot glass. He tosses it back.

“Is this a fucking party or what boys? I’m not the only one drinking, am I?” The boys take the bait and soon Jack’s the least important of their thoughts as much as they’re the least important of his.

The arena is buzzing. Home game against MSU with 14 seconds left in the period. They’re tied 3-3. And he’s sweating his balls off. Absolutely gassed. Jack puts his hand up for Ian to throw him a towel, quickly popping his cage open and wiping off his forehead. Jack takes the opportunity to look over at the MSU bench. Their coach has a whiteboard out drawing up a play to score since they’ve got an o-zone faceoff. Coach Naurato just told them to break up whatever play MSU was planning. Very helpful.

Jack’s mind starts to wander a bit, wondering if you’re seated somewhere in the student section. He knows you come to games but didn’t ask about this one; he’d forgotten the last time you-- erm “hung out.”

The refs’ whistle luckily refocuses Jack’s mind back on the game. It’s go time. An icing meant he was back out there with the boys for this crucial moment. They had to stretch things to OT. No way was MSU scoring.

He takes his position at the edge of the circle, to the left of his tendie. As soon as the puck drops Jack feels like he’s in slow motion. He moves hard out on the point searching for a loose puck or being ready to pry one loose. MSU’s centerman raked the puck back but Jack gets to it first skating as fast as he fucking can out of the pile. He’s moving despite his screaming legs, the lactic acid being almost too much to bear.

He sees he’s got one of his liney’s to the left but has to get around the MSU defender first. Jack goes for a little chip play, which surprisingly gets around the d-man, despite his good gap. Jack’s in disbelief at this point, skating for his goddamn life; he could win this game for them.

The MSU goalie is being aggressive, creeping out of his crease to make himself bigger. But Jack’s still got his guy. A quick passing play and Jack re-receives the puck, psyching out the goalie just enough to find some space and sneak the puck in backdoor. Score.

Jack blacks out. Completely unsure what to do with himself, he starts frantically skating around the rim of the rink, arms up in the air as his teammates mob him against the glass. He’s fully screaming. He can feel the whole arena rumbling around him going absolutely nuts. Jack swears he’s never been happier than in this moment. They’ve won the game 4-3.

----

He’s out of press as quickly as possible. It’s not very extensive for D1 hockey players but there were still a few questions for the game winning goal scorer. Jack is still pumped full of adrenaline, hands practically shaking he’s so hyped up. He can think of only one person he wants to see right now, elevated testosterone sending his brain into a primal state.

“I’m coming over.” He texts. He’s never been so forward before, but his dumb boy brain can only think about one thing. For a split second Jack considers sending a follow up to ease the pushiness but he decides against it, shoving his phone in his dress pants pocket and making haste toward your apartment.

He knocks at the door shifting impatiently, annoyed by an incessant itch he knows only you can scratch. You pull open the door and are suddenly standing in front of him; Michigan hoodie covering your frame and smooth legs exposed by a pair of sweatshorts. You seem a little shy unlike usual but still smile at Jack. Damn, has she always been this pretty? His lust works to heighten his senses.

Jack is swift, grabbing you and pulling you up around his waist. His hands fall greedily to your ass supporting you but also trying to relieve some of the tension in him by copping a feel. You’re feverish when you bring his lips to yours for a fiery kiss. There’s nothing innocent about it. His feet begin to move you both subconsciously toward your room as you make out with a fervor. The smell of your perfume swirls around him and fills his nose, fueling his lustful delirium further. You’re putty in his hands, arching generously into him, gasping wantonly for his kiss. Jack kisses you again and again even after breaking away until you can’t take anymore of the Dyonisian exchange.

“Please--” Your plea is clipped and breathy. You’re not even sure if at first you know exactly what you’re asking for. But Jack hears you. He feels the way your body is screaming, vibrating electrically at his display. It strokes his ego in just the way his caveman mind needed.

“Yeah? You need me baby? Saw me score and now you need me to fuck you?” Jack’s almost taunting, his voice a few steps lower than usual. You feel no shame in giving into his provocation. You nod hastily, begging with your eyes rather than your words. Jack smirks, setting you on the floor of your room before backing himself toward the bed. He sits down, hands going behind him so he can lean back on his arms. He looks so cocky but still so sexy. Jack raises his eyebrows looking you over from where you stand stiffly before him.

“Well? On your knees baby, show me you deserve to be fucked.” He spits, making no move to do any of the work. You stumble forward, dropping to the floor in front of him and reaching greedily for his belt buckle. “There’s my good girl. Gonna let me fuck your throat sweetheart?” It’s condescending but it makes your stomach flutter. You love when he’s dominant. You wrestle his belt buckle open, beginning to tug on his dress pants. When you look up at him with doe eyes, pleading for him to do as he pleases with you, you see his smug smile.

“Yeah ‘course you are. Always such a slut for me.”

It all gets a little blurry after that first shot. Suddenly, he doesn’t remember a damn thing. Until Jack sees you.

---

Y/N POV

You think it’s part of your dream at first, the incessant buzzing. But it’s coming from a flower in the garden and that doesn’t seem quite right… it’s still another fews rings before you fully flutter your eyes open. Still in a daze from sleep inertia, you reach blindly for your phone, holding it to what you think is your ear, and answering the call.

“H-hello?” You croak out, coughing almost immediately. The response on the other line is slow and you nearly fall back asleep in the second it takes them to speak.

“Hi umm sorry is-- is this Y/N?” Even in your haze you know that it’s weird that someone who’s calling you at the ass crack of morning isn’t sure of the name of the person they’re calling. It’s then you manage to sit up and pull your phone away from your ear to look at the caller ID. ‘Jacky Hughes.’ You’re even more confused now, because that voice certainly isn’t Jack and how the fuck does someone have his phone and why the fuck are they calling you?

“Uhhhhh yeah but who are you? Why do you have Jack’s phone?” You ask. The response is quicker this time.

“Shit sorry-- fuck this is John I’m buddies with Jack. Ummm we’re at the hockey house right now having a party but Jack is wasted and he just-- he kept asking for Y/N. ‘Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, where is she? I miss her. I miss my girl. Why isn’t she here?’ Really sappy shit and I mean none of the boys knew he had a girl so we’re like ‘Jack what the fuck are you saying man’ and he won’t explain he just keeps going on and on blah blah about Y/N. So we grab his phone right, and go through his contacts and look for a ‘Y/N’ and ta da, you’re the only one in there so we figured it had to be you he was talking about. Anyway, can you come get him? He's, like, totally plastered right now.”

‘John’ as he calls himself, is “like totally plastered right now” also, based on that rambly explanation. But really you don’t need any more convincing to drop what you’re doing (more like weren’t doing) and go to pick up a drunk Jack.

“Yeah… yeah I’ll come now just uhh drop me a pin or something.” You barely wait for John to answer before ending the call to slip on some shoes, a hoodie, and grab your keys. As you lock your door on the way out, a text comes in with a location just like you asked for.

You’d never been to the hockey house before but fuck it wasn’t hard to miss at this hour. Pretty multi color lights can be seen changing color inside and while the noise wasn’t atrocious it was certainly obvious. You risk it with double parking despite your nagging anxiety as it’s 3am and you don’t have time to find legal parking. You begin to tread up toward the porch but don’t have to go too far before your night vision fixes on a scene that makes you smile.

Jack is sitting on the grass with his back against a tree mumbling incoherently, from the distance you’re at. There’s a few boys with him: some on the grass as well, one swinging on an epic rope swing tied from the tree and another just standing with his arms crossed. As you get closer you can make out Jack’s pouty face and loose limbs. The boy standing looks rather paternal as he monitors your toddler of a boyf-- erm.. friend. Thankfully, you don’t have to announce your presence as said paternal man notices you walking up.

“Hey are you uh-- Y/N was it?” He calls out. You nod but before you can speak Jack opens his big mouth just as you come to a stop in front of the group.

“Aww Y/N she’s so pretty y’know-- wait you said she was coming, where is she Nico?” You look to see if Jack’s just suddenly lost all competency but notice that his eyes are closed. Your fond smile is involuntary. By now the rest of the belligerent boys have noticed your presence and are prodding at Jack saying ‘bro she is here’ ‘you’re so stupid Hughes’ and ‘oh my god dude.’

“Shhhh my head hurts be quiet you dumb fucks.” Jack chastises through a rather endearing hiccup. You move directly in front of Jack now, sinking into a squat to be almost eye level with him. Well you would be if he’d open his fucking eyes.

“Hey Jacky…” You call gently, placing your hand over his knee. He shifts only slightly.

“Only Y/N calls me that.” Jack whines, a lilt of sadness to his voice. Some of the boys have started laughing, egging him on while Nico just swears under his breath. Jack’s childishness makes you giggle.

“Open your eyes dumbass.” You add now, squeezing his knee and giggling still. Jack furrows his brow and shakes his head side to side.

“Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still hear her voice.” You’re fully laughing now, heart bursting with affection for this drunken fool. The Greek chorus opens their big mouths some more, fully ragging on Jack now: ‘Are you fucking serious bro’ and ‘Hughesy you idiot.’

The wheels seem to start turning, granted at a glacial pace, from all the berating. Jack shakes his head and you pat his leg encouragingly, his pretty eyes finally opening. When your eyes meet, he gasps comically loud and breaks into a beaming grin. It makes you feel even weaker for him.

“Oh my god, Y/N!!” He lifts an arm and starts flinging his hand about trying to find your face, to touch part of your body. You think he wants to hold your cheek but you’d rather he didn’t slap you in the face in the process. Gently you pick up his hand and rest your face against it.

“Hi stud.” You murmur at him, and even though he’s so inebriated that he doesn’t have control of his limbs, his thumb somehow begins to stroke your cheek. His head lulls to the side like a love sick puppy and he marvels at you with his starry gaze. He fish mouths for a moment before finding his words.

“Is this a dream? Y’know I’m spinning so fucking bad right now I can see about three Y/N’s and that honestly sounds like fucking heaven to me. Must be a dream…” Jack mutters, almost to himself.

“Sorry to disappoint but I’m as real as that econ test you have on Monday Jacky. Glad to see you’re spending your weekend wisely.” The boys around you can’t help but chuckle at your rather mom-ish chirp. A few ‘gottems’ can be heard. Despite the roasting, it appears that Jack couldn’t care less. A delighted gasp leaves his lips and a sunshine-y smile rises on his lips.

“Oh my god it IS you! I told Nico I wanted you to come get me and here you are! Will you take me home? Home to your’s? John’s being mean and Dawson isn’t as pretty as you.” He pouts as he says all this, making your heart clench. Home, he said. Your place. You’re already nodding without realizing. And if you lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek, it’s involuntary too.

“Yeah hun let’s go. I’ve got Welch’s in the car and a Ziploc bag with your name on it.” Your fingers run through his hair to soothe him just how you’ve learned to when he’s sober. You think he makes a move to stand and get his feet under himself but that battle is short lived. His ass stays firmly planted on the ground.

“Geez Hughes here let’s go buddy. We got ya… yup there we go.” His friends are quick to claim limbs and hoist the 180 pound gentle giant off the dirt. You thank them and point out your car. Jack’s head lulls backwards so that he can still look at you even while he’s being carted off to your vehicle. The giddy smile doesn’t seem to leave his face.

“What are you guys?” The abruptness catches you off guard and shatters your daydreaming. You turn to find Nico, the most sober of the group and the ringleader it seems.

“Huh? Oh umm-- we… we hook up I guess. Yea…” You stutter badly but this is your first time talking about your situation with Jack out loud. It’ll have to do.

“Hook up... like... repeatedly? No, sorry, I mean like, he comes back to you or-- fuck I’m tryna say like he-- he doesn’t-- you’re not a fuck and chuck?” You’re at least grateful Nico is lacking some eloquence as well right now. Still, you’re unsure how to go on. You laugh awkwardly.

“No-- or wait I mean yeah? We’ve uhh yeah been hooking up for a couple months or three I think now. I was asked to tutor him in econ at the start of the semester.” Nico looks shocked but you watch as his face morphs in accordance with the wheels turning up top. He smiles all of a sudden.

“Well fuck me. He said he had a pretty study buddy so I guess that’s why he’s been so MIA. Probably should’ve put that one together sooner.” Nico laughs at his blatant idiocy. You smile and shrug not really knowing what to say. He hasn’t really said anything that you can respond to.

“He doesn’t even eat when he gets back most of the time. If he gets back at all obviously.” You blush at the implication as he continues to glue the pieces together in his head.

“Yeah we usually cook together or order something.” Your admittance is bashful. You kick some rocks with your shoes as you continue walking behind the carrying party toward your car.

“Wow. I’m shocked really. I mean I’ve never seen him or heard of him spending this much time with a girl before. You must be special.”

You must be special.

It’s what you’ve been wanting to hear for months now, just from the wrong person.

“Y/NNNNN!” Jack whines from the passenger's seat of your car where he’s been deposited haphazardly, albeit in one piece. You roll your eyes affectionately, walking around towards him.

“Thanks boys. ‘Preciate it.” You smile at the group, shifting your weight awkwardly between both feet. John breaks the silence.

“Tell him to bring you around sometime. We wanna meet you for real. Seems like he really likes you.”

Seems like he really likes you.

“Sure thing. Thanks again.” You smile and offer a small laugh and wave. Quickly you look down to your boy-- no, Jack, and see him staring at you.

“I told them that.” He mumbles drowsily.

“Told ‘em what bub?” You ask leaning over him to buckle his seatbelt and push all arms and legs inside the vehicle.

“That I really like you.”

I really like you.

You pause for a moment, looking him over warily, heart fluttering. He’s smiling at you just as genuinely as he normally would when sober. It’s calming for the moment and inclines you to believe him even in his drunken state. Despite how desperately you want him to sober up so you can hear the real truth, your nervous stomach accepts his admittance for the time being. You smile back at him and bend to kiss him on the lips. It’s just a peck but satiates the boy fully. He giggles gleefully when you pull away and meet his eyes again.

“Alright Jacky hun, let’s get you home.”

------

After waking up at 2 in the morning to collect a 5'11” drunken idiot, you’d think he’d have the decency to let you sleep in. Wishful thinking apparently.

“Y/N… Y/N! Wake up please!” Though Jack’s being gentle he’s still shaking you awake, a rather jarring way to come around. You groan loudly, letting him know how exasperated you’re feeling. Your hands reach blindly to push him away from you. Jack’s even more stubborn than you are though. “Please baby, I needa talk to you.” He’s gentler this time, leaning down to kiss your neck and rub at your side. The coaxing works wonders in getting you to peak an eye open.

Jack looks adorable really. Soft hair flopping into his face and some dark blue bags under his eyes. He’s wearing a soft smile and the look in his eyes is one of adoration. It almost melts away your annoyance. Almost.

“Jacky, what do you want? Are you still drunk? Why the fuck did you wake me up?” You whine. He just continues to look at you gently. He bends to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Hi gorgeous, I’m sorry. I-- I had to wake you up because well I blacked out last night which you obviously saw, but I woke up from my blackout when you were sitting in front of me smiling and telling me I was an idiot for not studying for our econ test. And I couldn’t wait another hour or more for you to wake up. I needed to tell you now that-- that I remember what I said and it was true. I like you, I really do. I’m so fucking into you it’s a little stupid and I’m tired of all this in between bullshit. I’ve wanted to be with you from like the second week we studied together and I don’t just wanna have sex anymore-- I mean don’t get me wrong it’s great and I would very much like to continue having sex with you but umm what I mean is I wanna introduce you to my friends and brag about you to them. About how my girl is so smart and funny and sexy and that she makes me laugh and fuck I’d ditch boys night for you because I like you that much. You make me feel so happy and safe. I love being around you no matter what we’re doing and I want you to be around me all the time. And I think I know that I’m not one sided in feeling this because I don’t think anyone could endure the pain of being so close to a couple but not actually being official unless they would give up the world for that person and well… I would, I would give up the world for you and I hope that-- okay well that’s a lot to ask that you’d give up the world for me back but I hope that you at least like me too. Please tell me you do cause I’m so into you babe and I want it all with you. Late nights and early mornings… the fights and the love… the future. I’m not scared of losing you from saying how I feel because I’ve been yours for months now, so what’d you say? Be mine?”

It’s almost too much all at once. You’re so tired and delirious and here’s this soft looking boy holding you in bed under the sheets, fingers dancing along your waist while he stares into your eyes and bares his soul to you. He had you at ‘I like you’ because it’s all you’ve been wanting to hear for months. Everything else was just sweet fluff that you more than loved but didn’t even need to hear make your decision. He says he’s been yours for months now but what he doesn’t realize is you’ve been his for just as long. And yeah, you’d give up the world for him too. All there’s left to say is yes.

You giggle at him pulling him down for a soft kiss. It’s a vessel for your emotion. An outpouring of love and devotion. You want him to feel that your actions mirror his words.

“Of course, Jack. I’m yours if you’re mine.” He beams down at you, smiling so wholly you think his face might get permanently stuck like that. He buries his face in your neck kissing you there.

“Thank god.” He sighs. “I know I sounded all confident but I was still kinda shitting it that I might’ve had it all wrong there.”

#jacky h recs #fic recs #hockey recs #fluff recs!!

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finelinefae · 4 months ago

Text

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things.

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket.

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go.

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week.

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people.

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything.

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’.

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket.

She read his bio beneath.

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it.

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words.

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric.

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :)

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message.

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it.

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay?

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay.

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end.

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really?

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something.

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !!

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi

. . .

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering.

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did.

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure.

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving.

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?”

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company.

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people.

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi.

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head.

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office.

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about.

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath.

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office.

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?”

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?”

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card.

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds.

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car.

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring.

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally.

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.”

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped.

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel.

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy.

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did.

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered.

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean.

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went.

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door.

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?”

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.”

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto.

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy.

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers.

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him.

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone. But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . .

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary.

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled.

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb.

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

4K notes · View notes

fushitoru · 5 months ago

Text

the season of thorned roses ⸺ a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies

notes from the author: im aashi, and this is my first series on this app :p for anyone who would like to know, this does end with a happy ending. ty for reading!

masterlist | drabble | fanart

chapter index

01 ⸺ the debutante

you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

02 ⸺ the aftermath

after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)

03 ⸺ the manor

you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

04 ⸺ the game

satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

05 ⸺ the fall

gojo comes up with a strange yet tempting arrangement, but the accident that follows it may cause epiphanies for the both of you. (11.8k)

06 ⸺ the house party

you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton. (7.4k)

07 ⸺ the rebound

after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)

08 ⸺ the lake

both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

09 ⸺ the embers (soon!)

drabbles/headcanons

01 ⸺ gojo walking in on geto at a brothel (nsfw, not canon)

02 ⸺ gojo when you're pregnant

03 ⸺ more on geto!

5K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 3 months ago

Note

the universe needs leclerc!sister x harry. by the universe i mean me

kiss a musician - hs

summary: harry wants to date yn leclerc. the only girl out of the four leclerc siblings. her older brother who happens to be a formula 1 driver is not happy about it folkie radio: guys you have no idea how nervous i am of posting this idk why 😭😭 i really hope you like this otherwise i'll feel silly okay

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 502,255 others

ynleclerc hot girls cry on their birthday 💌

view all 9,736 comments

username1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE LECLERC

username2 she’s the moment

scuderiaferarri Happy Birthday, Ferrari queen ❤️♥︎ by author

username3 AHH WE SHARE THE SAME BIRTHDAY

pierregasly Wow! I still remember when you were a little kid and you wanted to play with Charles’ kart. Happy birthday 🎉 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram when you and charles rocked justin bieber haircuts. cheers

↳ username1 HEEELP

carmenmmundt Happy birthday gorgeous gorgeous girl ✨ ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram love youuu ty 💓

pascale_leclerc Joyeux anniversaire ma petite fille ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Stop growing up right now 🥲🥲 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the leclercs are cry babies when it comes to her

arthur_leclerc It’s giving old lady

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 5

↳ username2 LOVE THEMMM

alexandrasaintmleux My girl ❣️ ♥︎ by author

landonorris HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE 😍 getting more gorgeous by the second ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO YOU’RE ON MAIN

↳ charles_leclerc How many times do I have to tell you to back off?

↳ username2 CHILL

lilyhme happy birthdayyy beauty, can’t wait to celebrate tonight 🕺♥︎ by author

↳ alexandrasaintmleux She has no idea of the surprise that’s coming her way

↳ ynleclerc JUST TELL ME ALREADY

charles_leclerc Happy birthday petite soeur, you might be older now but you’ll always be our baby ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 AWEEE

↳ username2 protective big bro

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,268

charles_leclerc I’ll always look after you. Joyeux anniversaire ma petite soeur ❤️

tagged: ynleclerc

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username1 AWEEE

username2 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 Happy birthday @ynleclerc 🎉

username3 charles adores her so much i can’t do this

landonorris happy birthday (again) i hope you got my flowers @ynleclerc 😘

↳ charles_leclerc That’s it.

↳ ynleclerc HE DIDNT SEND ME ANYTHING HES JUST MESSING WITH YOU FFS 😭

↳ username1 HELP MEEEEEEEEEE

username4 what is HARRY STYLES doing in the likes

↳ username1 charles x harry lore is real

ynleclerc Love you forever 💓 ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Before both of you became annoying teenagers

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 50

liked by username1, username2 and 27,936 others

harryupdates Harry performing at a private event in Monaco tonight !

view all 1,976 comments

username1 WTF?????

username2 WHATS GOING ONNNNN

username3 GOD I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

username4 someone dig in more information bc wtffff

username5 MONACO OUT OF ALL PLACES THATS SO RANDOM

username6 YALL I HAVE INFO!! apparently this is charles leclerc’s (formula 1 ferrari driver) sister’s bday party

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username2 THIS CROSSOVER

↳ username3 imagine having a rich brother who can get harry styles to perform at your birthday party

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 654,835 others

ynleclerc BEST PARTY EVER 😭😭 thank you to my angels @/charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux for putting this together for me, HARRY STYLES ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME ???? love you all so much 💓💓

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris, harrystyles

view all 15,937 comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 OH TO BE YN LECLERC

oscarpiastri Coolest party ever 🤘♥︎ by author

username3 imagine being rich and pretty and having a rich and pretty brother who hires harry styles to perform at your party

arthur_leclerc Your gift from me was a Chanel purse, where is my post?

↳ ynleclerc sorry turtur but harry styles > chanel purse

↳ arthur_leclerc Fine I agree, Harry Styles is out of this world

username4 IT GIRL FR FR

francisca.cgomes I’m still hungover ♥︎ by author, iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe

↳ iamrebeccad Same

↳ ynleclerc come to my place let’s bed rot together ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, iamrebeccad

↳ username1 i just want to be one of them 😩

username5 charles really got HARRY STYLES like antisocial harry styles who never leaves the house to perform at his little sister’s wedding. wow

username6 THIS IS FOR THE F1 x HARRY GIRLIES

alexandrasaintmleux You deserve it my gorgeous girl ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc you’re my favorite human on earth

↳ charles_leclerc I paid for the entire thing…

↳ ynleclerc did i ask?

↳ username1 LOVE THEM 😭

harrystyles Happy birthday again, YN. It was a pleasure to meet you and your brothers. Big love to the entire family x ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

↳ username1 HARRYYYYY

↳ username2 we NEED to see that harry x charles pic

↳ charles_leclerc Thank you for the performance, mate 🙌

↳ username3 this is still surreal to me

↳ ynleclerc best birthday thanks to youuuu ❣️

↳ username1 charles or harry?

↳ yourinstagram harry ofc

lorenzotl Love you so much, little one 💓 ♥︎ by author

landonorris When your babe posts you on main 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDOOOO😭

↳ username2 i love their friendship and how they mess around to piss charles off

↳ ynleclerc my main bitch 😘

↳ charles_leclerc I’m logging out now

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by charles_leclerc, harrystyles and 597,367 others

ynleclerc anything interesting happening in monza this weekend?

view all 13,199 comments

username1 COOL GIRL

username2 if charles doesn’t win then we don’t care ♥︎ by author

arthur_leclerc Is that my hoodie?

↳ ynleclerc whoops

iamrebeccad You’re hanging out with me 🥰 ♥︎ by author

↳ carmenmmundt And me ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc highlight of my weekend

username3 FORZA FERRARI

↳ ynleclerc forza charles*

↳ username1 REAL

landonorris Papaya looks better on you babe 🤩

↳ username1 sometimes idk if lando is just joking or if he’s being fr

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ charles_leclerc I’m in your walls

username4 HARRY IN THE LIKES ???

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur always supportive ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc im here for other reasons

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 599,637 others

ynleclerc HE WON 🥺🥺 i’ve never felt prouder of being your sister, you teach me what being resilient and fighting for your dreams means. IL PREDESTINATO. THE KING OF MONZA. FIER DE TOIN TOUJOURS

view all 13,986 comments

username1 AWEEEEE

username2 THE LECLERCS MAKING ME CRY TODAY

scuderiaferrari It's in his blood ❤️

username3 the way she was crying and hugging arthur when the camera showed them THE LECLERC SIBLINGS HAVE MY HEART ♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 ♥︎ by author

username4 BEST RACE EVER

landonorris I'll win more races for you babe 😘 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO STOP

↳ ynleclerc you're all talk and no trousers

↳ username2 i love their friendship sm

harrystyles Congratulations @/charles_leclerc! ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc

↳ username2 hARRY STYLES???

↳ username3 THIS IS SO RANDOM WTF

↳ username4 LSJSAFH WHAT??

↳ username5 I guess he became with the leclercs after the party 😭

↳ charles_leclerc Wow thank you mate! ♥︎ by harrystyles

charles_leclerc Je t'aime petite soeur ❤️ ♥︎ by ynleclerc

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 18,037 others

harryupdates Harry having in dinner in Italy tonight !

view all 1,028 comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 italyrry lives

username3 IS HE ON A DATE

username4 BUUUB

username5 i was there and he was with a girl 👀

↳ username1 hello spill the deets ??

↳ username2 HUH

↳ username5 the girl was really pretty and they were chatting and laughing all night long, they looked cute

↳ username3 IM PANICKING NOW

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

carmenmmundt Omg you went on a date !! So happy for you beauty ✨

↳ ynleclerc love youuu carm

francisca.cgomes THATS MY BABYYY who’s the lucky guy?

↳ ynleclerc can’t say yet 🤫🤫

alex_albon Charles won’t like this..

↳ ynleclerc he doesn’t have to know

landonorris NOOOO YOU’RE MY BABE

landonorris WHO’S THAT????

↳ ynleclerc that’s a secret i’ll never tell

harrystyles ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 25,477 others

harryupdates Harry out and about in Monaco today !

view all 1,987 comments

username1 BABYYY

username2 HE LOOKS SO RICH???

username3 ooohhh is monaco the new italy ??

username4 THE OUTFIT IM SALIVATING

username5 dilf dilf

username6 singlerry is the best thing ever

deuxmoi has added to their stories

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 601,275 others

ynleclerc happy ❤️

view all 14,837 comments

username1 OMG BABY LECLERC HAS A BOYFRIEND ??

username2 PRETTYYY

francisca.cgomes 😍😍 my baby! ♥︎ by author

username3 BRO CHARLES IS NOT GOING TO LIKE THIS

username4 WAITING FOR CHARLES’ MELTDOWN

lorenzotl Wow I didn’t know about this, I’m happy for your, soeur 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the only sane leclerc ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

landonorris BABE?? ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OMFG THE FLOWERS COULD BE FROM LANDO

↳ username2 LANDOYN IS REAL

leclerc_pascale ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS SO ANNOYING

arthur_leclerc EXCUSE ME WHEN WAS THIS

↳ ynleclerc just flowers turtur

username5 CHARLES WAS FOUND SOBBING

username6 HARRY IN THE LIKES

charles_leclerc YN Pascale Leclerc, answer your phone right this second

↳ username1 NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

↳ username2 PROTECTIVE BRO

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 604,827 others

ynleclerc but god i love the english ‼️‼️

view all 15,002 comments

username1 OMG

username2 AHH I FEEL LIKE SHES DATING LANDO

carmenmmundt 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 HOW DID CHARLES ALLOW THIS

leclerc_pascale Belle 💕♥︎ by author

username4 HOLD ON. THATS HARRY STYLES IN THE SECOND PIC??

↳ username1 YOU’RE RIGHT THOSE ARE HIS TATTOOS

↳ username2 OH LORD

arthur_leclerc JUST SPILL

↳ username1 yn not telling her brothers anything is so 😭

username4 someone put charles on a straightjacket

username5 so yn is dating either lando norris or harry styles ?? what an icon

landonorris YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABE IDC 😤

↳ username1 SO ITS NOT LANDO

↳ ynleclerc dude give it up

gemmastyles 💓♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OH

↳ username2 STYLES-LECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 CHARLES IS RADIO SILENT THIS IS SCARY

alexandrasaintmleux Prettiest girl forever 🥰 i’m happy for you ♥︎ by author

↳ username3 charles is single now

lorenzotl Petite soeur! Your happiness is mine 🙌 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc 🥹

↳ username1 lorenzo is such a supportive big brother :(

charles_leclerc You’re not allowed to leave the house once you’re back in Monaco

↳ username1 HEEELP

↳ username2 HES SO DAMN ANNOYING

↳ username3 POOR YN

liked by username1, username2 and 21,937 others

harryupdates Harry out in London today!

view all 2,011 comments

username1 BUBBBB

username2 WHOS THAT

username3 guys guys yn leclerc had that same outfit on her last insta story

username4 THATS YN LECLERC 😭

username5 HARRYYN STYLECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 bro how did this happen…

username7 that’s why he performed at her birthday and he kept going to monaco OMG

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

francisca.cgomes 😂😂😂😂😂

alexandrasaintmleux He has his phone with him now

↳ ynleclerc i’ve muted the groupchat for my own sanity

alex_albon You’re going to give your brother a heart attack…

↳ ynleclerc that’s not on me he’s just dramatic

landonorris HARRY STYLES ????? HOW?????

↳ ynleclerc you don’t think i’m capable of pulling him?

↳ landonorris yes you are 😩

↳ landonorris you’ll always be my babe tho

harrystyles Don’t joke about that love I’ve been panicking all day

harrystyles has added to their close friends story

replies:

mitchrowland And one of them can run you over with a Ferrari, by the way

↳ harrystyles This is not helping my case

jefezoff 😂😂😂😂😂

gemmastyles You’ll survive brother (hopefully)

niallhoran YOOO you and Leclerc’s sister? How did that happen

↳ harrystyles I’ll tell you about it if i make it out alive after family dinner

ynleclerc you’re a cutie

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 602,838 others

ynleclerc 💋

view all 14,088 comments

username1 OMFG

username2 SHES INSANE

username3 GIRLLL ADDRESS THE RUMORS

gerogerussell63 🤣🤣🤣

alex_albon You're really going to give your brother a heart attack...

↳ ynleclerc he'll survive

↳ username1 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

username4 THE HARRY LIKE PLEASE HES NOT SURVIVING THAT FIRST DINNER

username5 the vintage racing jacket and the shirt SHE KNOWS WHAT SHES DOING

arthur_leclerc DISGUSTING

↳ username1 HEEEELPPP

liked by username1, username2 and 48,047

gossiphub The Leclerc family was seen out to dinner in Monaco tonight, joined by Harry Styles, who's dating YN Leclerc

view all 3,099 comments

username1 OOOHHH MY GOD

username2 IT HAPPENED

username3 i can only imagine the talk charles gave to harry

username4 DID HARRY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE

username5 oh im praying for harry

username6 STYLECLERC IS ALIVE

username7 meeting her brothers 😭😭😭 i cant

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, arthur_leclerc and 1,022,337 others

yourinstagram dinner update: he made it out alive

view all 10,278 comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUNCH

alex_albon 😂😂😂😂😂

username3 i just need to know how that dinner went

↳ ynleclerc enzo was a sweetheart as always, arthur was a fanboy the entire time and charles couldn't stop yapping about driving fast cars in order to scare harry

↳ username1 HEEEEEELPPP

pierregasly Now he needs to meet your chosen brothers

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ francisca.cgomes Leave her alone ♥︎ by author

landonorris This is who took my babe away from me? 😩

↳ harrystyles Proudly ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 OMFGGGGGG

↳ username3 THIS IS TOO GOOD

↳ landonorris Can't even complain you're cool as hell mate

lorenzotl He's part of our family now ♥︎ by author, harrystyles

↳ charles_leclerc 😵

↳ arthur_leclerc CRY CHARLES

harrystyles First Leclerc dinner done. Now I need to survive my first Grand Prix ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 IM YELLING

↳ username2 OMFG HARRY AT A GP

↳ charles_leclerc See you in the Paddock, mAtE

↳ ynleclerc LEAVE MY BOYFRIEND ALONE

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,272 others

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur pour toujours ❤️🤷‍♂️

view all 16,043 comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 he's such a big brother

alexandrasaintmleux My 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 i wish my brothers loved me

pierregasly Everyone needs to watch out for Charles when he's in big brother mode ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 tell that to harry styles

scuderiaferrari Name a more iconic duo ❤️

username4 I NEED TO KNOW HOW THEIR CONVERSATION WENT LIKE

arthur_leclerc I'll always be on your side @/harrystyles ♥︎ by ynleclerc, harrystyles

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ username2 ARTHUR IS SUCH A FAN

↳ lorenzotl Same 🙌

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS ON HIS OWN

↳ ynleclerc my favorite brothers 🤍🤍

↳ harrystyles Thank you, Arthur and Lorenzo. I can't wait for golf this weekend x ♥︎ by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, ynleclerc

↳ username4 OMG HE HAS PLANS WITH THE LECLERCS YALL

↳ charles_leclerc I think I just got kicked out of my own family

ynleclerc you’re annoying and want to scare my boyfriend away, but i love you ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 they’re the besttt

3K notes · View notes

itsnotgray · 1 year ago

Text

oh this was so heart-warmingly mushy and i love it dearly🥹🫶

━ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — this is so cavity-inducing it makes me sick (affectionate) and why did i do the boys so dirty in this oml

“Why is Luke hitting on your girlfriend?”

Jack Hughes groans.

Not this shit again.

Was it really that strange for him to bring a friend home for the holidays?

A strictly platonic, no ulterior motives friend. A good friend, one who also saw him as nothing more than a friend.

He didn’t think so, but with how his family reacted, you would have thought he rode in on a unicycle dressed like a clown. All he did was invite a plus-one.

Sure, it was the first time since high school, but still. The sky didn’t turn purple, and Jack was pretty sure the planet would keep spinning. Not to mention, this is exactly what they wanted.

His family pestered him relentlessly about his love life—or, more accurately, a lack thereof—so he assumed they’d shift their interrogation to one or both of his brothers if he brought someone home, romantic or not.

The whole point of a “holidate” (you) tagging along was to avoid questions, not elicit more. His plan was back-firing.

Epically.

Though less evident in your presence, not once had anyone asked him something unrelated to you.

His great-aunt wanted to know how he asked you to be his girlfriend, and Husband #4 wanted to know how he tricked you into going out with him in the first place.

(Jack was offended by this. He thinks himself to be quite a catch.)

His gaggle of younger cousins needed to know when the wedding was and if they’d get to be in it, a line of questioning that quickly evolved into an open audition for Flower Girls and Ring Bearers.

The older ones weren’t any better. Their onslaught was overtly critical and lacked the endearing innocence of its predecessor. One had a problem with the gift he picked out for you (it wasn’t “romantic enough,” as if a sixteen-year-old even knew what that meant), and another was disappointed he hadn’t taken advantage of the mistletoe above the garage door. A few swiftly agreed you were too good for him after Jack let slip you decorated his apartment because he was too busy—and aesthetically-challenged.

His nana asked if he had "acquired a ring yet." When he told her he hadn’t, she offered one straight off her finger before he could explain why jewelry wasn’t necessary. She then launched into a spirited pitch for “finally getting some grandbabies.”

Apparently, the rest of his family had a hefty bet going on who out of the three brothers would settle down first. Quinn, by default as the eldest, seemed like a sure thing for a few years, but seeing as his date for this year’s Christmas Eve dinner was a six-pack of Bud Light, it wasn’t challenging to put Jack, unwittingly, in the lead.

“For the millionth time, she is not my girlfriend,” Jack replies, not bothering to water down his irritation.

His older brother was annoying, so that did factor into his sour mood, but Jack was mainly frustrated with his younger brother for robbing him of his holidate and monopolizing her charm for his gain.

If Luke wanted someone to cart around the room, he should’ve brought one of his own instead of stealing his. You agreed to be Jack’s smoke and mirrors, not his little brother’s.

The thief has you roped into a conversation with a second cousin’s fiancé surrounding her impending nuptials. He knows this because the interaction began with her holding out her left hand so you could admire the massive rock weighing down her ring finger. You’re listening attentively as she goes on and on about the frivolous details. At one point, she pulls out her phone to show you something, and you visibly and genuinely gush, a hand over your heart.

Luke looks bored but satisfied with himself.

Jack would be, too, if he had you as a human shield. Without a buffer, he was fair game.

Quinn smirks. “True, but you want her to be. Oh, that reminds me. If you are actually as platonic as you claim to be, you might want to remind Mom you need separate beds before she auctions off our guest room to the drunkest bidder. Unless, of course, curling up on Spider-Man sheets directly in front of a lifesize cardboard cutout of Crosby is some kind of freaky kink of yours.”

“Fuck off,” Jack hisses as he shoves his brother away from him.

“What? I don’t think it's that crazy to assume you’d get off on that, given how much of a die-hard you were growing up. You hero-worshiped the guy,” Quinn says between bouts of laughter. "I don't judge. Whatever foreplay you need, dude."

“Do me a favor, would’ya?” Quinn nods, too tipsy to see he’s walking straight into a trap. “Go bother literally anyone else before I dunk your head in the eggnog.”

He does, head thrown back, cackling at his younger brother’s melodramatic threat. Jack doesn’t care if Quinn makes fun of him so long as he does it from six feet away. At least.

“Thank you, again, for doing this. I know my family is a lot—and don't really understand the concept of boundaries," Jack says in greeting when you manage to slip away from Luke and back to his side.

Your expression lifts into a pretty smile.

“There’s no need to thank me, Jack. I’m enjoying myself. Everyone’s been so warm and welcoming.”

“Really?”

“Really,” you affirm with a nod. “Your family has been on their best behavior.”

That’s because they want you to join us indefinitely, Jack muses.

However, now that he’s thinking about it, you becoming a more permanent fixture of Hughes holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It might devolve into that for you eventually, but Jack would never tire of having you as an anchor.

He was already planning on asking if you were interested in tagging along next year, but why put an expiration date on the invitation? It's not like he would have an actual date to bring.

Before Jack can broach the subject, you’re pulled away by the herd of Flower Girl hopefuls. He expects you to look back with a pleading “Save me!” look in your eyes, but you don’t. You don’t even glance over your shoulder, already too engaged in whatever game of make-believe his cousins conjured up this time.

Jack's body warms as he stands in the corner of the living room. The happy kind of heat that spreads from your chest down to your toes and out to your fingertips. The kids are having a blast dancing between the couches and around the other guests, but you’re having just as much fun twirling them around. There’s so much giggling and smiling; it's infectious.

“Your girlfriend is a natural,” his dad says fondly as the children crowd you like their very own celebrity.

“Huh?” Jack murmurs, only half listening.

He’s too busy watching you hoist a giggling five-year-old into the infamous Dirty Dancing lift. Your arms are straight, glued to your ears. Jack smiles. He taught you that in his living room.

“Don’t let her be the one that gets away, okay?”

Jim wanders off to help his wife gather everyone for dinner, leaving Jack to chew on his dad’s request in solitude.

He winds himself so deeply into his head that he doesn’t notice you coming towards him until you’re face-to-face.

“Shall we?” you ask, eyes as bright as the tree behind you.

Jack nods, gulping down the strange feeling, and holds out his arm. He thinks he hears your breath catch as you thread your arm through to rest a hand in the crook of his elbow.

You’re probably just surprised and maybe even a little confused. He’s never overtly chivalrous with anyone unless it's for a bit. Or in front of his mom. Neither of which is at play presently. You're alone in the hallway.

Jack just felt like being a gentleman. It's the least he could do after talking you into spending the holiday weekend with his nutty family and their big mouths.

As Jack guides you through his childhood home, he does his best to ignore how much he likes the feeling of your shoulders brushing.

In the dining room, he pulls out a chair for you. While tucking you in, he catches his brothers mocking him in his peripheral vision.

Sensing his vexation, you snatch the bottle nearest you and fill a glass with wine. Wordlessly, you slide it into his palm. He takes half the heavy pour in one gulp and affectionately squeezes your shoulder. Immediately, Jack wishes he would’ve waited to do that until he could blame it on a buzz. It’s one simple touch, but that’s enough to make him feel like a complete weirdo.

He didn’t want you to misinterpret the gesture. Your friendship works so well because neither of you has tried to make it more. Maybe it was his anxiety talking, but Jack’s reasonably certain he’s wrecked everything.

The remainder of the wine goes quickly.

“But I wanted to sit next to her!” Jack’s youngest cousin whines to his aunt from across the table.

“You’ve hogged her all night, honey. She’s Jack’s date; we should let him spend time with her. Maybe she’ll help you build your fort later if you behave during dinner.”

You nod and wink at the little girl. She, aglow with glee, claps her little hands together. Her mother quietly mouths her gratitude to you.

“Who knew I was such a hot commodity?” you lean over and whisper to Jack.

It’s a lighthearted joke, but Jack feels a twinge of jealousy. He wasn’t a jealous person, especially with you. And, objectively, it was stupid to be upset over the demands of a child.

The sole purpose of a “holidate” is to shift the attention away from him and, presumably, onto you. Jack hadn’t thought about how possessive the blatant division of your attention would make him feel.

Something shifted tonight; he wants to be selfish with you.

As his mom pulls you into a conversation about your plans for New Year's Eve, Jack takes your hand in his. He waits for you to pull away. Instead, you squeeze his hand. Once, twice, then a final time. The fluttery nerves in his stomach dissipate.

Luke nudges Quinn, pointing his fork at your conjoined hands resting atop the table. They grin but say nothing.

Throughout the meal, his thumb absentmindedly rubs over yours. He hadn’t meant to, and when he realizes, Jack is hit with a sudden rush of clarity.

He isn’t bothered that everyone assumes you’re together; he’s bothered that you aren’t.

The epiphany terrifies him.

The feeling of falling in love is very much like the feeling of a nightmare, like being sucked into an all-consuming black hole, entirely at its mercy and unable to save yourself.

He worries that once he starts falling, he might never stop. He’ll lose his bearings and his mind along with them. Jack couldn’t handle that kind of uncertainty. He couldn’t imagine forfeiting so much control over his own life.

Jack never wanted to fall in love, but he already had.

After dinner, Ellen sends the two of you to fetch more firewood from the shed. He can feel your unease as he trudges through the snow ahead of you.

It rose to the surface when he yanked his hand away before dessert and mounted steadily the quieter he became. You attempted to coax him into small talk with witty jokes and anecdotes from the time you spent separated tonight, but he couldn’t bring himself to participate much, if at all.

Eventually, you gave up and turned back to his mom for conversation. Jack didn’t blame you. He wasn’t the best company.

“Jack?” Your voice quivers.

It’s distant, literally and figuratively. He wonders when you stopped walking, but it doesn’t matter.

He halts his movements, but he’s too afraid to turn around. If he sees your eyes, he might say something he won’t be able to take back.

“Did I do something wrong? I feel like you’re mad at me. Or, at the very least, upset with me. Please, Jack, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it.”

His heart sprinters at your sincerity. In an instant, Jack relinquishes his fears and strides across the yard to cup your face with his hands. Your cheeks are freezing, but so are his palms. There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill over and meet his touch. He’s so close he can smell your perfume, perforated by his shampoo that you borrowed this morning.

Strange look on his face, he whispers as though divulging his most intimate secret, “You’re my best friend.” Because, in every way that matters, he is.

The dam breaks, then. Salty streams escape your eyes, slipping between your lower lashes to pool on his fingers. If it weren’t for the faint smile pulling on your lips, Jack would’ve thought you didn’t understand what he meant or that you didn't feel the same.

“I know,” you tell him softly. “You’re mine, too.”

Jack doesn’t even get to react before your lips catch his. He repays your courage so instantaneously and urgently that your mutual admission hasn’t fully sunk in when his tongue slips in to greet yours.

You fist his sweater as if he might pull away any second. Jack strokes his thumbs over your skin to assure you he won’t. Now—or ever.

This kiss—wonderful and everything—is the culmination of every smile shared in confidence, every terrible karaoke duet, countless movie marathons, and too many midnights to count. It feels so natural, so obvious. How he never once thought you’d arrive here is an enigma.

A chorus of whistles and applause erupts from the back porch.

Embarrassed, you attempt to separate from him, but Jack’s insistent lips persuade you to stay despite the growing audience. Now that he’s gotten a taste—of both your mouth and honest affection, Jack’s not budging for anything.

When he was a kid, his mom told him that people only get a few “snow globe moments” in their lifetime. Perfect glimmers of happiness that you want to encase in a bubble and keep pristine forever. Jack never knew what she meant, not really.

Not until you kissed him.

“Fucking finally!” Quinn shouts.

Behind your back, Jack flips him the bird.

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thank you for reading, and happy holidays <3

────────────

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⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

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#jacky h recs #fluff recs!!#fic recs #hockey recs

929 notes · View notes

gyuswhore · 7 months ago

Text

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl.

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against.

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you.

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel.

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today.

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight.

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?”

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day.

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job?

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu.

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow.

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse.

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers.

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands.

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion.

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?”

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet.

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now.

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher.

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment.

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare.

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion.

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either.

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention.

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise.

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on.

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you.

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him.

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine.

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send.

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer.

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators.

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same.

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait.

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow.

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day.

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire.

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave.

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him.

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning.

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?”

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were.

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance.

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open.

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day.

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting.

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love.

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels.

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command.

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint.

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again.

“What are you—”

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.”

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with.

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse.

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless.

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss.

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more.

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly.

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt.

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe.

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in.

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions.

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly.

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips.

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again.

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing.

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth.

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before.

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself.

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.”

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words.

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants.

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds.

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt.

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now.

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you.

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen.

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead.

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close.

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you.

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks.

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog.

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs.

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago.

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway.

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you.

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.”

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.”

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio.

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him.

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic.

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back.

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.”

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes.

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works.

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

“I love you,” he yells.

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.”

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling.

“Mingyu!”

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him.

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you.

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week.

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