#i was like huh this guy is just like collar. I HAVE AN IDEA

[ghostofadragon]

okay its 2024 if you dont want to see me making up transgender guys to hang out with dead paratroopers just unfollow me. anyway ELIJAH yes he does have the exact same position as doc roe. look me in the eyes and tell me that easy company didnt need another medic. you cant do it. as stated hes a "trans man" (nonbinary but its the 40s so hes not really cognizant of it. i think he thinks hes just some kind of really weird woman) who got into the paratroopers by sheer virtue of being kind of tall and having a flat chest so nobody really thought too hard about it. he grew up on a fishing boat in the gulf of mexico somewhere i'm not sure where yet. he's passionate about medicine to a strange degree and while this does make him good at his job, he has a reputation of terrible bedside manner because he keeps telling his patients about 48498594 infections/diseases/other ways they can die and then spina or someone has to calm them down again. this keeps happening. i forgot to write this on the sheet but they call him "doc cutter" as a mad surgeon/scientist joke and it leads to people thinking cutter is his surname which confuses everybody. im a bit obsessed with him

[uzurakis]

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you���re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

[charliemwrites]

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[sunkissedrafe]

okay but imagine innocent!reader going to a party with rafe and his friends and getting a little over served!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

standing around a makeshift fire pit the guys set up because your short little dress doesn’t help much in keeping you warm. rafe and the guys circle around it too nursing their beers and talking about a bunch of manly topics you have no interest in, until…

“what about truth or dare?” kelce asks and the group enthusiastically agrees. your ears perk up at the idea, and you look up at rafe with your glassy doe eyes jumping up and down a couple times. “can i play too, rafey? love truth or dare!!!” he gives you a kiss on the forehead and a little nod.

the game is going so good at first, except they start take advantage of you as you down more of your fruity drink:(((

“i dare you to try and touch your elbows together.” one of the guys slurs out, and of course you’re determined to do it. you furrow your brows as you struggle to touch the two together, squeezing your hardest as they all watch your tits nearly pop out of your dress.

at first rafe just watches with an amused grin. he knows he has a ten for a girlfriend and he isn’t naive to the fact that all of his friends would pounce on you given the chance. it doesn’t matter that they look because they know damn well they’ll never touch.

“dare you to touch your toes without bending your knees, i heard it’s like… impossible.” topper chimes in with a smirk. rafe shoots him a narrow eyed glance as you bend over. his jaw clenches when you stumble and end up with your back facing the group, pretty pink panties on display as you grunt and eventually reach your toes. “think i did it! did i??”

“yeah, yeah alright. okay. you did it baby.” rafe pulls you back up and wraps his arm around your waist after tugging the hem of your dress back below your ass. you giggle and take another sip of your drink, so proud of yourself for completing such an impossible task.

you were feeling so warm and bubbly you didn’t even think about the fact that none of the others had been doing any dares!!

“i d-dare you,” one of the more drunk guys stammers out and chuckles, stepping closer to you, “to.. to see if you can unbutton.. my pants with y-your teeth.” he and the rest of the guys erupt in a fit of commotion, but rafe isn’t so amused!

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he shoves the guy back roughly, his broad frame towering over him. “huh?”

“cmon rafe it- it wasn’t even like that bro!”

“it wasn’t?” rafe speaks lowly and slowly steps closer as his friend cowers down. you watch with wide eyes as rafe’s hand reaches behind his back and to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers gripping the shiny metal gun he keeps on him. “you do so much as look in her direction the rest of the night..” rafe lets out his signature psychotic chuckle and lets go of the gun, using the same hand to grip his friends collar and pull him so they’re nose to nose. “y’know.. that big fuckin’ forehead you got is damn near beggin’ me to use it for target practice.”

he shoves his friend to the ground and clears his throat, grabbing a new beer from the cooler and cracking the top. he takes a sip and pulls you back into his side, squeezing your hip reassuringly. you beam up at him and he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

he glances back around to his group, but all of them are silent. the only sound is the wood crackling in the rusty barrel in front of you. “anyone else wanna play?”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

[star2fishmeg]

ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ 'ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

[30.2k] Pairing | Jack Hughes x afab!reader Summary | how does one guy go from wanting everything to do with someone, to nothing at all? Jack didn’t know what he wanted until he started losing to Trevor, but maybe that was a good thing. Warnings | 18+ smut, childhood friends to lovers, angst, jealousy, fluff, swearing, grumpy x sunshine-ish, underage drinking, mention of mildly-dysfunctional family, hickeys, backshots, mild choking, masturbation implication, praise kink, hair pulling, making out, protected p in v, pet names (angel, sweetheart) Authors Note | this is my first Jack fic please bear with🫶. Another slow burn, sorry. This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes ♫ the spins - mac miller [small worlds masterlist]

Jack's heart stopped and he gulped. Never in his thirteen years of living had he come face to face with someone whose stare was more bone-shaking than his older brother, Quinn's. He'd never felt apprehensive about someone else, hockey eliminated that the moment he learnt to skate as a small child. Y/n L/n had been in every class of his since he could remember. In the frozen suburbs of Toronto, she lived a few houses away from his, took the same bus and could only recall two occasions where he’d seen her smile: with her friends at lunch and watching guys like him suffer misfortune. Then they were project partners for their literature class, and neither had been too pleased with the decision. 

Jack slid into the empty seat next to her with a grin smeared across his face and a chewed pen between his fingers. His nerves hadn't dissipated as he had hoped, the neat formatting of her notes and their quality only made his heart pound harder. Her face didn't move but her eyes scanned his face, finishing with a stone gaze into his pretty, blue eyes. That was one thing she had to give him, his eyes were beautiful, vibrant and lined with long, thick lashes that she wished she had. 

“Do you like literature, y/n?” he asked. He had far too much confidence in himself, an ego some would say. He was used to people just agreeing and following him like a prince, bowing at his words. The girls would fawn and twirl their hair, the guys dying to hang out with him. Jack was popular because he was charming, friendly and social. But he was also a teenage boy, so the world was also his territory, and everyone was just in it. 

“Yes.” She squinted cautiously, grip on her pen tightening. 

“Perfect! How about you do the parts you're good at, and I do the speaking? Does that sound good?” 

“Sounds like a ‘get out of jail free card’, Jack. We're splitting it fifty-fifty. Drop it and let's start brainstorming.” She spat, opening his notebook for him and refusing to drop her glare.

He groaned, slamming his head onto the desk. “What do you mean ‘drop it’? Drop what? My pants? Because I didn't know you were that kinda gal-” 

“-The act, Mr. Eighty-Percent Average Score. I want a good grade and you're a hockey player, you need good grades, or you'll be benched, right?” She deadpanned and started jotting down ideas in her notebook. Sometimes having a troublesome brother in hockey had benefits, but most of the time it didn’t. 

“How did you…huh? How do you know that? Did Quinn tell you that? That little rat-” he jolted when her palm slapped the back of his head, not hard but enough to get him to shut up. 

“What was that for? All right Sunshine, what is your problem?”

Her hand grabbed the collar of his burgundy hoodie, a fire burning in her eyes as she seethed. “My problem is some of us don't have set futures and need school, Hughes. So shut up, do as you're told and let's get this project over with so we can both go back to enjoying our lives. And get this idea that you call the shots here just because you're popular out of your head. You're no more special than anyone else while at school." 

She let go and leant back, returning to her notes as if nothing had happened. Jack didn't adjust his collar. He didn't laugh, cry or yell. His cheeks burned pink with wide eyes, and his stomach doing flips. If he could replay that moment again, he would. No one had spoken to him like that before, not even his family. She was out for his blood. Some of his friends would call her unpleasant, others would disagree and say that Jack was lucky to be partnered with someone as cool as her, someone who didn’t take shit from people and got things done. They’d grown up in the same schools, of course, he’d heard the stories about y/n being voted ‘most fearless’ because she wasn’t afraid of having a backbone or watched her hit another girl because she stole her friend’s juice box. She wasn’t unpleasant, Jack would’ve done the same, and that’s why he wasn't even angry, but his respect for her peaked and intrigue bursting at its seams. But the guilt lingered. His first ever proper interaction, conversation with just the two of them (aside from small talk over the years) and he may have just fucked everything up when they were supposed to get along and cooperate. But why did he feel guilty. 

“Do you hate me?” he blurted out quietly, watching her pause mid-sentence. If she was out for his blood, what did he do that was so bad? Or what had she heard?

“No,” she turned her head to face him, “I have no reason to hate you…yet. You're just annoying and stupid if you think I’ll let you sit back while I do this alone. We're doing our presentation on symbolism, by the way.”

“Am not, control freak,” he grumbled, muscles relaxing at the fact he wasn't rejected, God forbid he was rejected by someone cool, that would be embarrassing. He pulled his seat in and started copying the notes she'd scribbled for him, “but yes ma'am.”

 *

Maybe some people aren’t meant to be. Not even as friends. After almost getting choked on Monday, Jack hadn’t learnt much from his experience. On Tuesday he spilt water over y/n’s notes, and while he profusely apologised, he was punished with silent treatment and no guidance on their project. Wednesday, she had sought him out over lunch, hoping to retrieve the notes he borrowed but as she found him at his locker, he slammed the door into her face on accident and the only thing he could do after that was slam his head into the wall, repeating ‘idiot’ to himself. But Thursday was the worst. The winters were vicious in Toronto, so attempting to navigate the ice was a task. Fortunately, the school set grit over the concrete, but over time the snow would deflate into sludge as everyone trampled over it. Y/n had been carefully making her way to the bus, trying to work with the crowd and not slip in front of everyone. Jack was late, in too much of a panic to be thoughtful. He just didn’t want to be late for hockey practice. Without looking, he’d stormed through the crowds and shoved past y/n, but he tripped and took her down with him, the pair tumbling into the sludge, soaking wet and cold through their clothes. When Jack realised who it was screaming ‘asshole!’ at him shooting daggers into his soul, he learned that his coach was, in fact, not the scariest person he knew.

Since Monday, the week was supposed to be easy after processing the partnerships, yet on Friday, y/n still found herself in her seat doing more than fifty per cent of the research while Jack talked endlessly to his friend across the classroom, laughing at YouTube references and memes that only thirteen-year-old-boys would find funny. She knew Jack was doing it on purpose, he was more than capable of contributing, she’d seen his previous presentations and other projects. Was it her? She wondered if she’d been too aggressive, too moody with him to the extent that she was just off-putting or that he found it amusing. Perhaps if she’d been a bit kinder, they would be getting along like the rest of their class, laughing and chatting with each other instead of him flinging rubber bands at his friends while she stuck her nose in her notebook, worrying about how she’d get all the work done solo (because she wasn’t holding out for hope). Truth be told, she had as much passion as a night-shift worker, not because of Jack, but who liked doing graded presentations at the start of the school year?

“Will you please turn around and shut up?” she whined, tugging on his hoodie sleeve with a tired pain in her voice, “You’re so rowdy.”

Giggling, Jack turned around in his seat, satisfied with the torment he’d caused his friends and with a wide grin. He’d taken time to reflect on their interactions, even asking Quinn what he’d do to redeem himself (after calling him the grumpiest man alive). He did come across as arrogant, he admitted to that. He wasn’t expecting her to know about the school and hockey relationship and really wasn’t expecting to be choked by his collar and humbled publicly. That’s why he decided he liked her; she was a cool girl in his world who didn’t care about who he was. He didn’t know any girls like y/n, not that she wasn’t like other girls, but other girls he surrounded himself with didn’t hiss in his face and spit his name like it was poison in her mouth.

“Sorry, Sunshine,” he saluted, continuing his part of the project in an awkward silence. Jack’s knees bounced, the air between the pair so quiet he could hear his breathing echoing in his ears, mouth itching to talk about anything but he didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing again. He watched her from the corner of his eye, even in a neutral state she looked jarred, lips in a permanent downward fall. His friends called it a ‘resting bitch face’, but she had every reason to be a bitch to him, after all, he had pretty much embarrassed and driven her up the wall all week. He sighed, turning his attention back onto the text she chose to study, annotating parts he thought would suit the instruction she’d given him. 

“I’m sorry for choking you. And snapping at you.” He whipped his head around in surprise, her eyes hadn’t moved from her notes, but her tone was soft, the softest she’d sounded to his memory. She peered over to him apprehensively, almost shocked at his silence.

He blinked twice, out of the two of them it should have been him apologising first. His lips tugged into a small smile, “I deserved it. I’m sorry for being an ass and hitting you with my locker, and knocking you in sludge and overall, just being annoying. You have every right to hate me.”

Sitting up straight, y/n’s gaze softened for the first time, “Jack, I don’t hate you. For the sake of this project, how about we start over?” she held her hand out, “Pleasure to be working with you, Rowdy. Let’s do this fifty-fifty and that way we both benefit.”

He shook her hand, his almost engulfing hers, but he thought it was cute, “You too, Sunshine. So, uh…how are we gonna do this? Because we’re kinda slacking on all grounds. Like, we know each other and where we live, and that we take the same bus, yeah, but like…not anything, uh, personal like your favourite colour.” 

“Well, my favourite colour is red, I like hot chocolate with marshmallows and my favourite hockey team is the Maple Leafs.” She said, doing her best to start some sort of icebreaker to at least make conversation easier. They should have done this from the start like others would have but he was arrogant, and she was up tight. Just because you’ve grown up in the same proximity as someone doesn’t always make you friends.

Jack’s eyes lit up, “No way! My favourite hockey team are the Leafs too! Lemme think…uh…my favourite meal is steak; I love watching movies and my dream is to make it to the NHL.” 

“Cool. That’s a lot of weight to carry,” he nodded enthusiastically at her, “but you’re the kinda guy who could, Hughes. Anyway, what have you done for this shitty project?” she peeked at his notebook, brushing over the fact Jack was grinning like an idiot at his breakthrough. It was a start, but at least she wasn’t insulting him anymore and they were talking with their walls down, no weapons. He opened his mouth but immediately closed it, scratching the back of his neck. Her notes were always so direct and neat and his were a mess, not even he could understand what he was saying half the time.

“What the hell am I reading, Jack?” her smile dropped, and her deadpan humiliated him alone. He sunk into his chair, he did his best, he really had, but unlike in hockey, the school was a flow he just couldn’t enter. “We have a lot of work to do. Hope you’re free over lunch next week.” 

“Or we could do it at my house. Do you wanna come over?” 

“Not really,” she said flatly, looking him in the eye. 

“Please, there’s too much happening at school and doing it at my house - or yours - would be so much better. Think about it, I won’t get distracted~” 

She chewed her cheek, watching his toothy grin widen. If he weren’t a charmer she would’ve made her decision more quickly, but Jack had this effect to him where it was almost impossible to resist, whether you liked him or not. He had a point, in his home he wouldn't be hollering across the room or fidgeting in his seat. Anyway, it would be a good opportunity for them to bond. 

She sighed, and hung her head, “Fiiiine. Are Sundays, okay?”

He nodded urgently, perhaps more excited than he should have been, but getting her to give in and try to hang out outside school felt like a win. He just wanted to know if her walls were always enforced up high or if it was a school thing.

 *

The first Sunday crept quicker than she would have liked. Although the Hughes' house looked no different than hers, the dahlias in the front garden were twice as pretty, a small part of her hoped the frost would never hit them, reflecting the joyful souls of the Hughes family. Y/n stood on the doorstep, rucksack slung on her shoulder and rollerblades in her hand. When Jack had told her to bring them, she asked why but in typical Jack manner, his answer was vague, ‘Please just bring them!’, but she listened anyway, dreading what kind of ideas were running through his mind when they were supposed to be working on their project. After all, the faster they submitted it, the sooner they could return to their lives.

She lost track of how long she’d been standing there, he probably thought she’d ditched him by how long she’d been mustering up the nerves to knock but the reality of the situation, her reality, she was processing how there was no muffled noise coming from behind the door.

For a home of five, it was as quiet as a zen garden. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised; most families were quiet. She never had to look where she was going on her way home, she always heard her family before she saw them, whether outside the front door or somewhere in the house. The yelling never stopped, so standing outside Jack’s house took the weight off her chest and she could feel the September breeze in her hair.

She knocked timidly, listening to footsteps barrel through the house from the other side and a muffled ‘Quinn don’t you dare answer that!’ however when the door opened it wasn’t Jack’s excited, puppy-like self. She’d never looked at him properly, but y/n blinked twice at Quinn standing before her. He was a lot better looking than Jack made out, the opposite of Jack: dark hair, taller, broad shoulders and his eyes were a duller blue compared to Jack’s vibrant ones. He smiled kindly as Jack shoved past him, shooing him out of the way and muttering at him to leave them alone.

“I told you not to answer! I had it!” Jack whined at his older brother, pushing him to the side.

“I didn’t know you were inviting your girlfriend over, why didn’t you just say so?” Quinn teased, letting Jack move him. To him, seeing Jack so ecstatic over a girl wasn’t new, Jack had had short-lived girlfriends since he was eleven, not understanding the difference between validating attention and love yet but y/n with the hard gaze was the first girl he invited into his home. The kind of girl Quinn least expected since she didn’t seem happy to be in their home, unfazed by Jack’s playful behaviour and glint in his eye. That was new and part of him felt old seeing his little brother grow up so fast.

“She’s not my girlfriend, assface!” Jack growled, his face heating up.

“Ugh, as if.” She scoffed at the same time before fully processing the smirk on Quinn’s face. Jack girlfriend? Is that how it looked to others? A boy and a girl hanging out as children was fine but the moment, they hit their teens it meant they were all over each other. She imagined what it would be like if she were to be his girlfriend, until she caught herself in the act, what kind of demon possessed her even to have such a fleeting thought? Curiosity? Or maybe it would be funny seeing the reactions of others, seeing him with someone they least expected. Y/n’s breath hitched, heat rising to her cheeks but less noticeably than rosy red Jack who started swatting Quinn.

“Ignore him, y/n, let’s go do this project.” He emphasised to his brother.

Jack gently took her by the sleeve, pulling her into his hallway and impatiently waiting for her to slip her shoes off and leave her rollerblades before leading her upstairs.  She glanced behind her, giving Quinn a shy wave which he returned as Jack led her further, weaving around stray hockey gloves and shoes on the stairs and reappearing into a simple hallway. The layout couldn’t have been more unfamiliar to her home, the walls were highly decorated with family photos, more of the boys than anyone else. Quinn, Jack and Luke, the youngest, clad in mostly hockey gear but the occasional casual photo, some even of them piled on top of each other. The landing was nothing special, a single strip with one bedroom facing the street, one next to the stairs with another opposite and the master facing into the garden, bathrooms in between.

Jack pointed to the room next to the stairs, “that’s Quinn’s room,” then to the room at the back of the house, “that’s my parents,” then to the front, “that’s Lukey’s,” and eventually ushered her to the room opposite Quinn’s, opening the door and giving her a grand reveal, “and this is mine!”

Y/n shuffled in, taking in the personality of the room. It wasn’t big, nor a box room but the grey walls made it feel smaller than it was. A double bed pushed against the wall, a desk next to it and opposite those were a chest of drawers and a wardrobe crammed snugly. It was the kind of room that someone who didn’t spend a lot of time in would have, the only elements saving it from a show home were the hockey posters and awards on the walls and surfaces, a hockey helmet on top of the wardrobe with gloves and skates scattered under the bed. But the one part that stuck out the most while she moseyed around, was the framed photo on his desk. A recent picture of him and his brothers together, void of smiles and Jack wearing the burgundy coat the day he knocked her into sludge, Quinn in the grey hoodie she just saw him in and Luke in, what she assumed, some sort of blue university fleece with an ‘M’ on the chest. She stifled a chuckle, only Jack would wear full burgundy, but it was no better than the photo of her, her younger brother and her dad at her cousin's wedding, all three of them miserable and her dad nursing a hangover (pre-drinks with the boys before the wedding was not his and the relative’s greatest idea for some of their ages). But this photo of Jack had something endearing to it, and proof that he wasn’t sunshine and rainbows all the time.

Jack crept behind her, peeking over her shoulder and speaking quietly next to her ear, “We all got a copy of that one. It’s also on the stairs. Mum thinks it’s hilarious because before it was taken, Dad had us shovelling snow for thirty minutes before a two-hour evening hockey practice.”

It hadn’t occurred to her how he felt the need to stand so close to her until then, his voice practically sinking into her skin as if she were wearing headphones rather than listening to him through a speaker. It wasn’t that she hated it, it was just…new. He wasn’t smirking, his hands were in his jean’s pockets and the way his popular-kid demeanour plummeted when talking about his brothers was like she had met an entirely different person. It’s crazy how getting someone in a different environment can lower their mask. It made him loveable and the longer they stood there, close together, the less she hated the idea of being around him. It was almost comforting to share family stories, the information that anyone who hadn’t seen the photo wouldn’t know.

She nodded, her rucksack strap dropping from her shoulder and into her hand as she turned to him, looking up at his smiling face. Okay, he was a lot taller up close, or well to her at least, and he seemed to enjoy looking at her face as she swore his eyes had a sparkle in them.

“Where do you want me to sit?” she asked, casually.

For a second he thought he saw her crack. She was the only person who’d seen the photo, he’d usually put it away for safety when his friends came over since a couple of them had a thing for pillow fights at three in the morning. Letting her into his world and sharing his secrets would surely get her out of her shell, he was convinced that if he dropped his mask, she’d drop hers. He imagined what that would be like as she turned to him, and what it would be like if she looked in his eyes brightly all the time, shamelessly in the school hallways without anyone to ruin it. But her voice jolted him like he had been shaken by its shoulders and the real world was back to ground him, “Uh- right- project, you can take the desk I’ll sit on my bed. What, uh, time do you need to be home…by the…way?”

She sat on his office chair and set up her stationary, not looking at him when she replied,

“Probably seven at the latest, usually when dinner is but I can leave whenever you want me to. I’m just a few houses away.”

He grinned. That gave him a perfect amount of time to begin his plan if they didn’t spend the whole day on the project, which was likely considering his attention span went haywire in her presence. He couldn’t explain why, only that there was something about her gloom had him infatuated. Partnered projects weren’t for everyone, he knew that. He loved them, the bouncing, the company, getting away with not doing anything because he did all the talking but he also knew some people despised them entirely because of people like him, slackers, yappers, people who didn’t view them as real assessments because they weren’t pen and paper. Jack was the first and y/n was the latter, but for some reason, he wanted to be bossed about, wanted to work and perhaps see things from her world, hear her talk more.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all, maybe if he showed her to loosen up, she wouldn’t get stressed over it but if he tightened up, he could learn a skill or two and they’d find a balance.

Usually after two hours of unbroken work focus, Jack would groan in despair out of restlessness and boredom, but in the two hours that passed, both parties had completed a lot. They’d managed to negotiate roles, y/n would endure the tedious theory research elements while Jack focused on analysing and piecing together their text passage and the theories she’d found. It wasn’t fun, but they’d caught up with the rest of their class and were safe, and on track. She wouldn’t have to work into the night, and he wouldn’t have to risk skipping his social life. Jack had to admit, and he couldn’t lie, that working with her, even in silence, wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. They chatted here and there about life when they let their brains rest, she didn’t insult him, and he didn’t annoy her. They found a balance, and he’d learnt a bit more about y/n, like how she couldn’t ice skate but could rollerblade, how she forgot to blink when in a hyperfocus or that she didn’t like talking too much because she’s worried, she’d overshare and weird people out. Which did hit him in the gut when she casually expressed it, because he didn’t think anyone should hold themselves back from being true to themselves.

With his notebook and pens abandoned on his bedsheets, he sat crossed-legged, watching her scribble down quick notes from a website, “So, you used to talk a lot but since your friends just…never reacted or made snarky comments, you just thought to reign it in? What do you talk about?”

“Yup. Can be a yapper in the right environment, but now all we talk about is school, the news or things they’re into. They don’t even try to give context to those who have no idea what’s going on. It’s not a big deal though, most of them are going to a different high school than me so I’ll make new friends.” She explained with a sigh, finishing her notes and swivelling in his chair to face him. Talking to him as if they were friends felt refreshing, she only got to talk to one or two people this way, and those were the two friends going to the same high school as her. Neighbours would say that she and Jack should’ve been friends from toddlers since they’d grown up together on the same street, same kindergarten, same elementary and now coming to the last year of the same middle school but Jack was an outdoors kid always participating in some sort of sport with the other kids, y/n preferred the indoors, quietly finding hobbies and watching from the window. The only reason they’d recognised each other in elementary school was because Ellen had once dropped by to gift her mum, flowers as a thank you for something, and Jack happened to be with her, y/n locking eyes with him as she was walking through the house.

“Well, you can always talk to me, I’ll be your friend. We’ve known of each other for years, our mums help each other garden for God’s sake so we’re not completely strangers…” he fiddled with the chewed pen in his lap, “besides, I have two brothers and some…unique friends, nothing you do or say could weird me out.”

She sat in silence, watching him struggle to make eye contact with her for the first time like he was nervous about what she would say. He was probably expecting her to chew him up, brush him off but he had a point. They had been neighbours their whole lives, and if she played outside more, they would have been better acquainted. But her middle school friendships were fickle, and immature, in their eyes, she was the weird kid and only because her interests differed slightly, and more people gravitated towards her, girls and boys alike. And when that happens in a friend group of eleven to fourteen-year-olds, you’re the odd one out, people get jealous and there’s only so much artificial solidarity to go around sometimes. So, she changed and tried to scare people away so she could fit in again and survive and it worked. Until Jack Hughes wiggled his way into the picture.

Why is Jack talking to you? You know I like him. 

That’s so unfair!

Befriending your friend's crush? Low y/n, so low.

“I appreciate your kindness, but that’s a terrible idea.” She deadpanned, leaning back in the chair, a pang of regret striking through her upon seeing his shoulders slump.

He looked up with confusion written on his face, “What, why?”

“Because you’re Jack Hughes. Popular, charming Jack Hughes who everybody wants to be friends with. And I’m miserable y/n, my friends would throw me to the curb if I started hanging out with you suddenly. Actually, they would accuse me of betraying them and think something is going on between us. Petty shit.”

“But I like miserable y/n, you’re not even miserable. But why would it be a betrayal? Unless your friends got a crush or something-” the pieces clicked in his head, “-oh. I see. Well, think of it positively, would you rather have a group of friends who make you have to pretend to be miserable or have one friend who actually makes you miserable?”

She tried so hard to suppress a giggle but seeing him gesture to himself when making humour of the conversation made it impossible and she let the giggle out. Only Jack could say that, and it be funny, as self-deprecating as the joke was, it came from a good place. Jack’s head however emptied, and his chest exploded, a giddy feeling jerking his nerves hearing her giggle because of him (and not because he was getting punished or dumped in the hallway). He didn’t fuss over it, he didn’t want her to stop because he’d brought her guard down, so he giggled with her.

“I guess I would rather have one friend that makes me miserable.” 

“Correct answer!” he mused, all project work was abandoned, and it was clear to them both that they were done for the day. “Well, now we’re friends, do you wanna go play street hockey? That’s why I asked you to bring rollerblades, we’re gonna hang out.”

“So, doing the project was just a front for getting me to hang out with you?” she began to pack her stationary into her rucksack while he pushed his onto the floor. He’d clear it up later if he remembered.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded proudly, “I thought that if we hung out, we could get to know each other better, do something fun.”

He was almost falling off his bed in excitement, waiting for her to agree and play with him. Was he this eager with everyone? No one had ever been that desperate to be friends with her, most people weren’t that desperate. She opened her mouth to decline, but he’d spent the past two hours forcing himself to focus on their schoolwork, do as he was told, and listen to her intently even though she knew he was getting restless and bored, she owed him at least an hour of her time.

“Okay, but only for a little bit. I’m not great like you so go easy.” A smile was all it took for Jack to leap up, take her by the sleeve, drag her through his bedroom door (almost knocking Luke over in the process) and into his hall again. 

*

What was supposed to be just an hour, so she told herself, turned out to be three hours of non-stop street hockey. Two beaten-up goals outside his house and two laughing teenagers clad in gloves and rollerblades, hockey sticks hitting each other for the plastic ball that dragged and rattled across the concrete. Neither had been keeping track of the time, they were too engrossed in trying to beat each other, especially y/n, who forced Jack to go easy on her just so she could at least have a chance. 

It wasn’t often she got to participate in something like street hockey with someone, a lot of her social life was talking and not a lot of experiencing. She didn’t even hang out with her brother like the Hughes boys did, but her brother was far more interested in golf or playing FIFA with his friends or causing trouble at school. When they were younger, she and her brother used to spend hours playing basketball in the garden, so much so that eventually the hoop fell off and that was the end of it. Or they used to play video games together, getting so competitive in Wii Sports that her brother would start crying if he lost. Those were ephemeral days stuck in a memory loop, but playing hockey with Jack freed the same adrenaline rush that made the world feel brighter and hopeful like living for yourself was worth it.

She closed in on Jack’s goal, readying herself to take the shot, sheer confidence across her face until he swooped in and blocked the shot, stealing the ball from her possession and skating towards the other end.

“Jaaack,” she groaned, “you’re such a dick, I almost had that!”

His triumphant laughter echoed through the neighbourhood as he closed in on her goal, 

“You don’t sound so happy, Sunshine, why don’t you come to show me who’s the boss, huh?”

She clicked her tongue playfully, getting a burst of energy as she approached Jack. She could have knocked him out of the way, blocked his shot, or broken any of the standard rules but she was having the time of her life and Jack hadn’t stopped smiling since she agreed. Y/n tossed her stick to the side, dropped her gloves and grabbed the back of his hoodie, pulling herself closer to him and wrapping her arm around his shoulder, sending them both crashing to the floor, equipment scattered but both players laughing and playfighting, rolling and wrestling until their stomachs ached from laughter. 

At some point in their roughing, y/n’s fist hit Jack square on the cheekbone, hard. Sitting up straight, legs tangled, they stared at each other like they’d seen ghosts, her heart stopping in her chest. She didn’t mean to hit him, not for real, but on reflex she unclenched her fist and held his face in her hands with a delicate touch as if he were glass, her fingers holding his jaw as she inspected his cheekbone for any bleeding. She may have thought nothing of it, just protocol for when someone got hurt, but Jack’s cheeks blazed, hands becoming clammy, and he thought he was going to lose his breath at how gentle she was with him. If getting injured was all it took for her to look at him with soft eyes and obtain all her attention like a prize, he should’ve broken his legs a while ago. His world paused, the sounds of nature and cars faded out into a silence and his heart skipped eight beats at once. He’d had girlfriends, but he’d never had skin contact with one. Never held a girl’s hand before and never had his face held by one. She was like a drug, the second she cradled his thumping face, he never wanted her to let go. Maybe it was because he liked the attention because it was new and exciting or maybe the endorphins rushing through him altered his state of mind too much and confused the difference between enjoying her touch and pain relief.

“I’m okay,” he said just above a whisper with a fond look, “it’ll just bruise at most.”

She nodded, letting him reassure her before a grin crawled onto her face, arm snaking around his neck and held him in a headlock, grinding her knuckles mildly into his head and ruffling his hair. Even though he wished on all his lucky stars that the moment would never end, getting noogies from her was just as euphoric if it meant her giggles gave him just as much of a bliss escape as the scratching of ice skates did in hockey. 

“If you say so, Wack Hughes.” She rolled off and sat on the concrete opposite him, catching her breath, both bodies panting with flushed, chilly cheeks and undoubtedly bruises and grazes on their limbs. That’s what they got for not looking properly for knee and elbow pads.

“Can I have your number?” the words erupted a lot quicker than he expected them to, he borderline felt like he came across as a desperate man at a bar hoping to strike gold, “So, uh, we can text when to meet up…for the project and stuff…yeah.” 

She sighed dramatically, “If I really have to.” 

In all instances, all universes and every other life after his current, Jack wished the project would never end. He was just beginning to get somewhere with forming a liberating friendship where he was just Jack, the kid from class.   

* 

Jack had been right, but he wished it had been a cut because the bruise over his cheek was diabolical. A beautiful purple and blue bruise next to his eye, not quite a black eye but the cheekbone was close enough. Quinn and Luke teased him relentlessly the Monday morning over breakfast, even though the middle Hughes explained it was an accident while playfighting and not because he pissed her off. 

School was worse. At first, his friends taunted him about it, and how the ‘pretty boy wasn’t so pretty anymore’. Jack was just relieved that nobody asked him how he got it, they all assumed it was hockey and he would have too if he was them. At least a bruise wasn’t as embarrassing as when he broke his leg but there’s only so much teasing you can take before it starts becoming boring, and all week he had heard the same comments and the same giggling. He didn’t blame y/n, she didn’t do it on purpose but her packing a punch was not on his twenty-fifteen bingo card. 

Sunday rolled around again, Jack and y/n only had a week left until their project was due and while y/n had her hand fisting her hair, the words on her screen blending and almost sending her into cardiac arrest, Jack had zoned out long ago. Silence filled the Hughes’ dining room, both bodies void of willpower as they entered hour three of their study. On the bright side, they were over halfway done, opting to pull the presentation aesthetics together last as that was the easy part. The hardest part was trying to condense twenty-five slides into ten at most.  

Luke was home with them, keeping out of their way but giving them a glance as he meandered into the kitchen for a snack. He may have been twelve and starting to enter his pre-teen years of figuring himself and the world out, but what he did know was that the house was quieter on Sundays. That’s how he knew y/n was over. He stood quietly in the kitchen, peering over at his brother and y/n in deep thought from the breakfast bar, wondering how someone had tamed Jack within two weeks. Yes, they spent almost every day together so the chance of them getting to know each other better that way wasn’t off the table, and the quality of friendship isn’t determined by how long you’ve known someone. He’d never seen Jack sit so still, he wasn’t even chewing on his pen, just staring at his laptop screen and notebook while he feared y/n might yank her hair from her scalp if she gripped it any tighter. Luke pulled two glasses from the cabinet, filled them with water, and set them in front of the two. He then disappeared back into the kitchen and rummaged through the cookie jar before returning and placing them on the dark wood next to the water. Y/n’s hand fell from her hair and raised her head to meet a smiling Luke. They’d never spoken, but he liked it when she came over, especially when he’d watched her tackle Jack to the ground a week prior, of course.  

“Thanks, Luke. You really didn’t have to.” Y/n’s voice suddenly filled the room and pulled Jack out of his daze, his attention immediately landing on the glass of water and cookie.  

“It’s the least I could do for someone who can keep Jack on his leash.” Luke chuckled lightly, making his way back into the living room.  

Jack waited until he left to whip around to her, making her flinch at the speed, “You’re friends with my little brother easily but not me? I’m taking that as an offence.”  

“He didn’t tell me to do the entire project by myself while he got to do the easy part.” She jested, poking her finger into his chest. Call them Punch and Judy with the way they bickered. “He also didn’t pull me into sludge.” 

He wrapped his fingers around her hand, holding it gently as he rolled his eyes, “Okay, well, fair enough. At least it was Luke.” 

“Why? Scared I’ll fall hopelessly in love with Quinn and his dark curls and brooding personality,” she leant forward with a smirk, watching Jack’s eyebrows knit. She’d done it, found his button to press and she loved every ounce of adrenaline that raged through her, “that’ll I’ll hang out with him instead?” 

His tongue poked his cheek, their faces inches away and for once it was him sulking while she taunted him. Yet, the grip he had over her hand stayed loose, even when she continued to prod him, but he knew she could feel how sweaty his palms were from the panic that rattled him, “Yes! Kinda, maybe! I don’t know!”  

She stopped, her smirk dropping and his breathing becoming heavy. Their gazes met as she licked her lips, their faces were so much closer than she had thought, and a warmth spread up the back of her neck. They said nothing, their eyes searching each other for answers to unspecified questions. His bruise had healed better, it wasn’t a deep purple anymore and a yellow tint started peeking through, although she was sorry for hitting him, there was a small, amusing element to the story. She lowered her hand, but he didn’t let go. Never had she expected Jack to feel in competition with his brothers over anything but hockey, but his heart hammered in his chest the longer their stares lingered, terrified for the worst-case scenario.

“Wait, for real? You think I would do that?” Jack nodded shakily, chewing the inside of his cheek. It was ridiculous, his hormones getting mixed up and fluctuating over a girl he’d only started being real friends with, but he felt like they’d known each other longer by how thin the air felt between them. Was that allowed? Was there a rule about being friends with someone? If so, he yearned to break it, after all, he’d been friends with some guys for three years and knew nothing about them, barely hanging out with them outside school. “If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t.”

“It’s not Quinn specifically, I don’t know, like, we just started being friends and like, ugh, I don’t know.” He truly couldn’t describe the nagging feeling of a thorn that stabbed him in the side, he’d never felt it before, but he hated it. She was his friend and only his, Quinn and Luke weren’t allowed to swoop her away. Y/n was just his friend, no more sharing friends between them, they could keep that to hockey but not school. He’d do anything to keep it that way, even if it meant brawling with his brothers like when they were kids or even other kids at school. He just wanted to freely be friends with someone on his own, sick of being surrounded by friends who had their own, separate friend they could run to, rely on, cry, laugh with, and escape to their own isolated paradise with. He wanted a person. 

With a gentle nod, she noticed the warmth engulfing her hand. They peered down at their laps, pulling their hands away quickly and awkwardly finding chewed pens and hoodie strings. The first time he’d held a girl's hand, and it was because she was riling him up, and she’d never had a boy hold her hand before so the heat in her neck flushed to her face.  

“Sooo,” Jack started, the tension crushing him, “what do you like to do for fun? You already know I play hockey and we did that last week; we should try something of yours today.” 

Her muscles relaxed and she pondered. What did she do for fun? It was one of those moments where suddenly she forgot everything about herself and became the most boring person alive, nothing coming to mind. She didn’t consider herself nearly as exciting as Jack. She wasn’t an athlete, or an entrepreneur, and didn’t do any thrilling things over the summers. How are you supposed to sell yourself when you just enjoy staying at home and chilling? 

“Uh…I dunno. I like doing origami, I guess. Not really as intense as street hockey but I find it relaxing.” She ripped out a blank page of her notebook, tearing it neatly into a square and effortlessly folding the corners and sides. He was mesmerised, she made it look easy and Jack convinced himself that he could do it. Pulling the head out, she placed a swan in front of him. To create what sat in front of him more than muscle memory, it was time and patience. “For you. I’ll teach you step by step.” 

She tore out two more pages into squares, giving one to him, “Fold the paper diagonally to create the centre line, then unfold,” she demonstrated as she spoke, allowing him time to catch up, “refold the sides to the centre line and flip the paper over, doing the same as we just did. You should have a skinny kite shape. Bring the bottom corner to the top, middle corner and fold the tip of the bottom corner we just folded, down to halfway.”

Jack’s tongue poked out from his lips, his brows knitted as he concentrated hard, watching her fingers move intensely and carefully copying. His folding wasn’t as neat as hers, but he understood what she was showing and he hadn’t completely screwed it up yet, but he was a lot more heavy-handed than she was, too used to using all his strength rather than none of it at all. 

“Good boy, you’re getting it. Okay, now fold what you have in half, but outwards, away from you, not inwards, like this,” she folded the paper as instructed, “and gently pull the neck up and head out. See, a simple swan.” 

Jack’s face brightened, his lips twitching into a smile as he pulled the head out of his - messily folded - origami swan. He knew she’d gone easy on him, and he was frankly grateful that she hadn’t tried to teach him something overly complex because he did not want to deal with Ellen yelling at him to pipe down in front of y/n. Y/n didn’t need that, didn’t need to see or hear that. Jack may not have been an empath by any means and may not be the kind of guy to psychoanalyse people but Quinn had taught him to think carefully before he asked questions. Of course, he wondered why y/n never asked if he wanted to go to her house instead, but when he talked with Jim about it, he said there’s usually a reason, and sometimes people don’t want to talk about that and would prefer to just accept the offer, and that by offering up their home could be one of the nicest things he’s done for her. 

Y/n set her swan in front of him, his hands delicately inspecting the precision as if it belonged in a museum, “How can you do this so quickly and neatly? What else can you make?” 

“Practice, I can make cranes, frogs, bats, foxes, stars.” She giggled, watching him compare the two swans and setting them next to each other, “You can keep both mine, from me to you.”

Jack grinned. It wasn’t much at all, but having a homemade gift held more value than anything money could offer. It was made specifically with him, and she gave it to him, willingly, as a souvenir. He shoved his pens into his pencil case, stacked his books and closed his laptop, sliding the pile across the table. Surprised, she began packing her belongings into her rucksack, they were done with their project according to him. In his defence, they had achieved more than they thought. He turned, resting his cheek in his palm with a burning intrigue glowing in his eyes.

“Oh, uh, I guess I like graphic design…that’s kinda my hockey. Just making sports posters or posters in general really. I’ll show you, my favourite.” She opened her laptop again, searching through the files while Jack scooted closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. Her chest tightened at the noise that slipped from his throat when the file loaded, an electrocuting excitement radiating from him as his jaw dropped and eyebrows raised. It was the coolest thing he’d ever seen, last year’s baseball schedule graphic that he thought was significantly better than the one the team had originally posted. Upon hearing his chain of compliments, she opened more files, discovering their common interest in sports and the odd TV show. He didn’t have many creative friends, he was part of a dominantly sporty crowd, in fact, anyone who had creative abilities fascinated him and he would argue that they deserve just as much praise as athletes. It wasn’t easy producing ideas and visions let alone executing them. 

The more Jack raved about her work, the more files she pulled up and explained with her full chest and he swore he saw her eyes light up the same way his did when he talked about hockey. So, he let her talk. He asked questions about inspiration, the origins of her hobby, her favourite aesthetics and future plans, works in progress and if she would want a future in graphic design too, all in which she answered for hours before the clock hit seven and they had to call it a day with bittersweet smiles like they wouldn’t be seeing each other the next day.  

* 

Good times fly fast. Is what someone would say if they were having fun, but the past week had not been for y/n and Jack. In the last week before their project was due, they had crammed a week’s worth of work into three days, their deadline being Thursday. Lunches were spent in the library, copying and formatting into their presentation slides, and then trying to condense, and condense and condense more into ten overall slides. If they hadn’t worked during class and at the library, they knew they would have failed and with Jack’s hockey schedule, they had no other option. They didn’t hate it, spending lunches together became the best part of their days, that little buzz in their stomach making the mundane classes easier to bear.  

The actual presenting part started awful when the PowerPoint wouldn’t load, then stabilised as Jack did most of the talking but then almost hit the fan when y/n stammered almost every time she spoke (which wasn’t her fault, some people can’t cope with public speaking). However, they had submitted, presented and they were project-free until May. 

Y/n didn’t expect to see much of Jack anymore, she wasn’t sure what would happen next after they had no project. She didn’t pay attention to her classmate’s presentations, her eyes zoned on the wall and her shoulders slumped in her seat. It was sort of…upsetting that it was over, not hanging out with Jack again. Would her friends be happy? Absolutely, the competition was over but during the three weeks, they hung out constantly, what others thought mattered less and less until she smiled more with him than she ever had with them. What she and Jack had was real. 

Jack’s eyebrows lowered and pulled closer together, he couldn’t bring himself to be happy, the bleak expression on her face pulled at his heart too aggressively. It couldn’t be over, he didn’t want it to be over. It was not going to be over. He pulled his phone from his hoodie pocket, eyes flicking to the teacher who was too engrossed in the assignment, and he typed quickly before stuffing the device back.

Wack Huh🤕 my house sundays? i think my mum wants to cook us dinner as a reward u can meet my hockey friends 2 they r coming 4 the wknd

Feeling her pocket vibrate and glancing at the teacher, she replied under the table.

Sunshine💪 Will be there ofc Are these the unique friends? Bracing myself

She smiled, looking to her left subtly to see Jack practically kicking is feet. All was not lost.

*

When Jack said his friends were unique, she wasn’t expecting three boys to be staring at her like meerkats when she entered the living room. At least he didn’t lie. She expected three dudes chilling on the sofa, with drinks and playing video games but instead, she was met with the short one and one with long-ish hair wrestling on the sofa with Mario Kart abandoned on the TV and Jack and the third with dark hair trying to pry them off each other, Jack babbling something about irritating his parents again. It was Quinn who’d answered the door again, apologising for the noise and again she had looked up at him with adoration in her eyes. The noise was something she was used to, especially coming from teenage boys, if Jim and Ellen didn’t get involved, it would be okay. When she stepped into the living room, calling Jack’s name, the three other boys shot up and snapped their heads with wide eyes like they’d never seen a girl in their lives. 

Jumping off the sofa, he stood beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and his thumb caressing comforting circles, “Y/n! This is Cole,” the short boy waved, “Trevor,” the boy with tanned skin and long-ish hair winked, blowing a kiss, “and Alex.” The dark-haired boy gave a kind, welcoming smile. They were Jack’s unique hockey friends she’d heard many stories about over the last few weeks, like how someone hid Trevor’s towel one time and he could only wait until everyone had left the locker room before changing, or how the four of them thought it would be a good idea to hold arms and spin in a circle while on rollerblades and then let go, so all four of them went flying in different directions but it was Cole who ended up, not only taking out a couple but falling into a bin. Or how Alex tried to impress a girl by belching the alphabet but instead she slapped him. 

“Do you like Mario Kart, y/n?” Alex asked, to which she nodded.

“Don’t get too cocky, she can pack a punch. Got that Trevor?” Jack sneered, holding her closer to his side and pointing to his almost-healed bruise.

“That was one time!” Trevor groaned, taking the controller he’d launched previously. “Don’t listen to him, angel. He’s just mad because he sucks at everything but Chel. 

Only Jack had given her a pet name before, especially not one on the first meeting or one like angel. Jack had nicknamed her when they met, but ‘Sunshine’ suited her at the time, a jab at her doom and gloom. Angel, though? That hit different, that felt personal, aimed at her looks alone.

“Mmm sure, at least his towel stays in one place, Trevvy.” She quipped, stepping into the room.

“Jack! Why would you tell her that?” Trevor grabbed a sofa cushion, and swung it at Jack’s face, “Angel, that does not happen often but if it means you call me ‘Trevvy’ again, it so can.”

The sun began to set earlier in the autumn. After a morning of violent Mario Kart matches and rough play in order to cheat, the five of them settled on the two sofas in front of the TV, this time watching The Amazing Spiderman and two empty bowls of popcorn and mugs that once homed hot chocolate. 

Jack’s eyes struggled; his energy burnt out from a weekend of non-stop moving but he refused to sleep in fear he’d fall onto Trevor’s shoulder. The last time he did that, he woke up with marker over his face and a cock on his cheek, but God, were his eyes heavy. Y/n repositioned herself, bringing her knees away from her chest and stretching them with glorious relief. Said relief was fleeting as she felt a weight drop onto her thighs, peering down to see Jack’s head lying comfortably, body curled up in the spot he was sitting in. She bit her lip, what the hell was she supposed to do? Leave him? Push him off? What did it mean, did friends normally do this? But his hair looked so soft and silky, it always did. It always looked good, even after he’d finished gym class. With a hitched breath and trembling hand hovering over his head, she ran her fingers through his hair with a feathery touch, nails massaging his scalp. If his heart hadn’t been thundering just trying to find the courage to lay on her lap, it was now exploding like fireworks at her touch lulling him into a slumber. Her fingers running through his locks sent euphoric sparks through his body, addicting, heavenly, he never wanted to move from the spot. He wouldn’t bring it up though, he didn’t want to talk about it, and it become painfully awkward and never happen again. That moment before he drifted off was Jack’s paradise.

Ten months of sitting with each other on the bus, sharing classes, and lunches, failing to beat the dating allegations and teasing. Forty Sundays were spent at the Hughes’, playing video games, street hockey, boardgames with the brothers, gardening with Ellen, listening to Jim’s life stories and sharing secrets in the confines of Jack’s bedroom.  

The summer before they started high school, Jack begged y/n to join his family at the lake house for the summer, the boy got on his knees and everything. Of course, she wanted to go, why would she reject going to this lake house she heard so much about? Her parents were the part she worried about, and if they said no, she’d make them regret it, taking her away from her happiness like that. And perhaps they would have, followed it up by giving the speech about it being unfair to her brother. But to her surprise, they were pretty much ushering her out the door. What she didn’t know was that Ellen had swung by and her mother agreed it would be good for y/n. Thank the stars for Ellen Hughes coming in the clutch there. Finally, a summer spent away from arguing and moaning about being grounded.

She’d never seen a lake house in person, and it was better than she imagined, bigger and fancier than some haggard shack. Growing up near enough in the city never gave her chances to see the open country much, let alone large lakes surrounded by well-kept homes thriving in pride, green to be seen for miles and most importantly no pollution and constant rumbling of cars. It was the perfect place to escape to.

The Hughes’ lake house was gorgeous, pale blue with white accents, flowers and hedges (kept in pristine condition by a gardener) lining the drive and bedded outside the front, long driveway where Jim’s truck and Ellen’s Toyota estate were parked up, said drivers unloading the suitcases while Jack explained the home to y/n: five bedrooms, a games room in the basement that looked out into the garden, back porch above the basement, docks at the end of the garden and their boat, a beautiful bowrider with bow seating and the back deck with a U-shape layout. The way Jack spoke with excitement bouncing around his body made all sorts of butterflies flutter inside her stomach, jubilation radiating from his smile as he pointed to the windows, informing her whose rooms were where. 

“Also, Mum said you get the spare room with Cole and Alex, which sucks because I was hoping we’d be roommates. So, if they try anything funny, let me know, okay? Though, I trust you’ll hit ‘em if they do. But my room’s only next door.” Jack placed his hands on her shoulders with a stern tone, searching her eyes for reassurance. He had half expected his parents to reject the idea, his friends were with him after all and three boys in one room never turned out peaceful. Ellen and Jim knew that first-hand. 

She chuckled, “I will, don’t worry. Besides, those two are the least of your worries.”

Trevor’s laughter roared from the truck and the two peered towards him before looking back at each other. Jack slumped with an exhale, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

“I can’t believe I lost rock-paper-scissors. I love Trev and all, but he doesn’t stop talking. Y/n he talked the whole way here!”

Y/n’s laugh settled his nerves as he nuzzled into her shoulder. There were now going to be seven of them that summer, and hopefully for many more to come, getting any time alone with her would be a battle to the death. That may have been their last quiet moment together for that day, so she wound her arms around his torso, stroking his hair until Ellen called out for them.  

*

Only a week had flown by, and Jim had already started to regret his decision to let three boys tag along, the worst part being one sunny day and the other six raining, trapping everyone inside. That was one week, two cases of a blocked toilet, four ice packs to Trevor’s head from doing somersaults off the boat (on the one day it was sunny), six trips to the corner store for popcorn restocks and seven days of y/n, Quinn and Luke almost being knocked over by wrestling matches or whacked with a pool cue (Alex and Trevor almost lost their lives when they hit y/n square in the head). So, when the sun seeped through everyone’s blinds on Monday morning, Ellen and Jim pretty much slammed every bedroom door open, threw breakfast on the dining table and told the teens to make the most of the sunshine outside. 

Michigan was usually sweltering during the summer, cooking the seats and giving bare skin a fright when the leather latched to it, something Jack fell for every time. With the water calm and the lake hushed to birds singing their songs and neighbours heading out towards the country club, Quinn started up the boat. He’d only had his licence a year but if there was anything he knew just as well as hockey, it was the lake. And tuning out the irritations he was surrounded with, unfortunately. Cole, Alex and Luke lounged at the back, watching Trevor groan at Jack ditch him and dart back into the house, leaving him to heave a cool box through the garden and down the docks in which his best friends could have aided him with, but they were too busy hollering banter at him and Quinn, well Quinn chose to pretend like he hadn’t noticed. He was glad it wasn’t him for once. Whatever Jack needed was more important, clearly.

Jack dropped the cool box handle abruptly and spun on his heel, letting Trevor’s voice fade back out into the distance as his feet slapped against the wooden flooring inside the house. When he and Trevor reached the back porch, y/n wasn’t there waiting for them as she had insisted, and the thing about y/n is that when she said she’d be there, she would be there without fail. Besides, she was more important than Trevor carrying that cool box on his own. 

He knocked on the spare room door twice, calling out her name and waiting for her voice. Instead, she opened the door slightly, her head peeking around the corner with red, puffy eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, “what’s wrong? Was it the guys?”

She shook her head, refusing to let him open the door further and stop him. He’d never felt so useless in his life, she was right under his nose, crying and he hadn’t been there to soothe the tears away. All he wanted was to reach out and press her into his chest, let her sob into his t-shirt, pet her hair and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead, he was shut out, stuck between a barrier that he couldn’t seem to break through. 

“Sunshine, please let me in…” his voice was small, sympathy on his face and slowly she pulled the door back, allowing him to shuffle in and close the door behind him. When he turned around his jaw almost dropped, but his cheeks sold him out completely with how hot they flushed. When he saw her crying, he assumed that she was hurt, or that she’d received a nasty text or something that was not what he was faced with at that moment. All that ran through his mind was, ‘Fucking Christ.’ His body betrayed him then, so badly. His eyes raked her up and down, not in the way a predator seeks its prey but in the way that he had no idea what he should be trying to fathom. 

“I look awful. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Was all she squeaked. Jack shook his head eagerly, stuffing his hands into his swim shorts and stood next to her, encouraging them both to face the wall-length mirror.  

“I think you look…” he swallowed, throat suddenly dry and he shifted his weight, “Good.”

Of course, he’d seen women in bikinis before, in music videos, in magazines, in adverts, at the beach and lake but this time it was different. Y/n was a real-life girl who stood next to him in a bikini that showed more skin than he’d ever thought about. She looked more than good, she looked pretty, stunning but the latter were lumps stuck in his throat.

“You think so?” she asked, staring at them both in the mirror, removing her hands from covering her body. Jack never looked any different. She’d only ever known him to have abs or abs in progress. He was an active guy, she expected it, but it didn’t mean she didn’t find it drop-dead attractive, struggling to swat away the thoughts of touching the dips in muscles and smoothing her hands over his shoulders. He hummed in response, just two teens taking in their bodies as if they’d never seen them before. Growing up sucked sometimes. “I wish I had your slutty little waist.”

She broke into a contagious smile, one that seemed to calm whatever was making his shorts uncomfortable and chest tight, “And I wish I had your nice tits but here we are.” 

“Tits only look good in bras, Jack. Gravity betrays them.”

“That's okay, I love a good album drop.”

 She smacked his chest jokingly and giggled, “You're such a perv.”

“Hey, I'm saying you look hot!” He raised his hands in defence, the lump in his throat shrinking but biting his tongue.

“Not just me.” With her arms folded over her chest, she teased him, pushing her chest together and smirking when his eyes shifted quickly.

Jack stepped closer to, y/n spinning to face him as his figure loomed over hers, close enough to hear each other mumble crystal clear, “Oh? Then who else?”

Gazes falling back into each other, smirks painted on lips, the message was evident but getting each other to admit such secrets was their favourite game to play, especially with high stakes waiting for them, now impatiently, outside on the boat.

“I don’t know, Trevor’s cleaning up well lately.” She cocked an eyebrow. Behind his sleaze grin, he loathed the name that ruined his moment. Why was he on her mind when they were stood, alone, on a friendly flirtatious rollercoaster that kindled his puppy love craving for giddy sparks in his tummy? Instead, all he felt was that horrible thorn stabbing in his side again. “But you’re not too bad yourself, I guess.”

“You little- c’mere,” before she could wiggle away, his arms locked around her waist, pulling her flush into his chest as she squealed, “that wakeboard is calling us.”

Squirming, Jack threw her over his shoulder, opening the door and taking them both down the hall. She laughed the whole time, “I can't wait to watch you fall off again.”

Cole and Luke piped up like little meerkats when Jack and y/n closed in on the boat, y/n still cackling over his shoulder. He plopped her down on the deck, stepping into the boat first just so she could hold his hand while she joined them. There was no way he was letting anyone else have the privilege of having her hand enchant theirs. 

“Looking sexy, angel.” Trevor hollered, way too loudly for how close they all were. Jack did his best to hide his irritation, but he let a deep huff slip and perhaps he glared a little too harshly at Trevor, who only winked.

“You too, Zegras,” she thanked him, sitting next to Jack, thighs touching. “You been working out lately?” 

“You could say that. Been hittin’ the gym.” He flexed his bicep, “Was hoping you’d notice. Wanna come take a feel?”

“And get your cooties? No thanks.” She chuckled, watching Trevor slouch back in the seat with defeat.

Jack’s muscles tensed and he lay his arm on the seats behind y/n. His friends received a message that day, one loud and clear yet when Cole, Alex and Trevor, all gave each other scheming looks, Jack knew he screwed up.

*

They started high school, lost friends, made new ones, got introduced to social constructs for the first time and the anxieties and insecurities that came in the package. What trend was in this week? People were wearing makeup now? When did people start filling out and getting taller? Everything was changing, everyone was changing and suddenly the world seemed so small and terrifying to walk in. Of course, the scariest part of it all was the cliques. They say they don’t exist in real life, that they only serve as movie elements, but they very much did happen in real life and y/n found herself at the centre of it all. Being friends with Jack brought out the best in her, and it wasn’t middle school anymore, nobody knew who she was and better, nobody knew Jack, only by association with Quinn (which wasn’t all good, he was always going to be Quinn’s little brother). Grumpy and grim y/n was part-time, and she let people in, made friends who didn’t care if she was friends with Jack and Jack being Jack attracted a crowd. Y/n went from being a middle school nobody with fickle friends to rather popular for all the right reasons with a tight circle. And her best friend, Jack Hughes. 

Another Sunday, another afternoon spent laying on his bed watching Netflix while snuggled in his hoodie. They took their usual position, y/n sat against the wall with Jack’s head on her lap, fingers running through his hair. Although the episode played in the background, both silent and still, her attention droned on him. He’d grown so much over the year. He was taller, and broader, he’d started working out more and every time they hugged, or she held onto his arm, she felt the growing definition. His hair wasn’t as blond anymore, it morphed into a dirty-blond, on its way to brunet shortly but that wasn’t the most noticeable change to her. Jack had grown out of his baby fat, his jaw one of the sharpest among the boys in their grade. The only thing that hadn’t changed was his striking eyes and whirlwind personality. He still followed her like a lost puppy, dragging her and jumping around her, glued to her hip, and she’d grown to love it. 

She hadn’t realised that the episode had ended and been paused, Jack rolling over onto his back, gazing up at her. She continued to stroke his hair, the silence between them comforting as he got lost in her eyes. He’d found his person and so far, he’d let nobody take that away from him. But he, like everyone, had that sinking feeling looming inside him. One day, she’d like another boy, and they’d start dating and he’d have to share his precious time with him. Sharing with his brothers was awful enough, but watching Luke try and teach her how to play Chess spread warmth through his heart, and he’d never laughed so hard seeing her and Quinn get borderline violent during Uno (she almost lunged over the table), so that wasn’t so bad. But at school, that was like trying to hit a puck with a mop: impossible. Boys would like her, see her in ways he did, but also ways he’d want to punch them for, and he would be the masculinity-threatening-boy-best-friend. 

“I always wondered why mum lets us do this. Hang out in my room with the door closed.” He said with his voice low, or as low as it could go without breaking and squeaking. 

“Maybe my aura is trustworthy.” She chuckled, his eyes closing as her nails raked gently over his scalp. “You mean she didn’t give you a lecture?”

“Damn, think my mum likes you more than she likes me. But yeah, it was basically her telling me to not get you pregnant, which was fucking crazy for a Monday, but I was expecting to be told to keep the door open so they could see what we were doing. Y’know, that kinda shit.” When they’d stopped hanging out in the living room due to background noise disrupting their shows, Ellen had pulled him aside one evening and given him a thirty-minute lecture on trust and not getting girls pregnant as teenagers, but also the importance of using protection, not that either of them were going to have sex, they were only fifteen. He groaned and avoided eye contact the entire time, wanting the ground to swallow him when Quinn heard the entire thing and told Luke. Of course, she was basically telling him that she trusts him to not get y/n pregnant if they were moving to his room. They may have used his room to do their project many moons ago, but that was different, it was once before Jim found out and purposely cleaned the dining room table (which had been on his to-do list for too long) so they could work there instead, even though they were thirteen going fourteen at the time. “Don’t your folks worry about things like that? Like for all they know, we could be fucking right now.”

She laughed as he opened one eye. She hadn’t mentioned a lot about home, but at some point, she would have to spill the secrets about it. It wasn’t that her parents were bad people, no, not at all. They were supportive and loving, but her younger brother, who was in Luke’s grade, was a rebel without a cause and made it difficult for her parents.

“They’ve got bigger problems than what I’m doing,” she said, giving him a smile but she knew he was desperate to ask why she never asked him over to hers. She overheard Jack and Jim talking about it one afternoon as she was walking past. They were getting out Jim’s truck and she just happened to be on her way home from the store. It wasn’t that she was ashamed but exposing him to screaming and arguing wasn’t a promising impression at all. “My brother’s a pain in the ass, bad in school, bad reports, near suspensions, violence. My parents just want the best for him but all he does is get hostile, and then my parents start yelling and then everyone’s arguing with each other, avoiding each other, awkward dinners. He’s supposed to play hockey, but my parents can never get him to go to practice more than twice a week, hence I knew about the school grades and hockey relation. I just don’t like hearing the yelling all the time and I don’t want people to know about it.”

“Do my parents know about it? They seem to talk with yours a lot…”

She pushed the hair off his forehead, thumb rubbing circles over a bruise from his helmet, “Probably, I don’t know.” 

He thought carefully, both eyes opened and steadied on hers before he opened his mouth to speak, his voice soft, “You’re always welcome here. My home is your home.”

Just as his dad had told him, offering up your home could be one of the nicest things to do for someone and hearing his words made her stomach fuzzy as a spark of adrenaline surged through her. Should she just do it? Was it okay? What if he pushed her away? Fuck it, what was the worst that could happen, he was too charming to pass up the opportunity and maybe she’d be the first to do it.

She leant down, the other hand’s fingertips lightly ghosting his jaw as she placed her lips to his forehead, giving his flushed skin a sweet, chaste kiss, “Thank you, Wack.”

His jaw dropped, bug-eyed but blooming with ecstasy at the foreign sensation driving through his body and fogging his mind. He couldn’t resist temptation and broke out into a cheshire-cat grin, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks burning pink. He felt like the happiest man alive. She was still his person.

*

Homecoming turned out to certainly be a night to remember, in more ways than one. A good few weeks or days, she wasn’t really paying attention, of grand proposals like it was prom, many couples chained together like it were to be their wedding night and the everlonging hope that someone would ask her to be his date. The assumption was that everyone wanted to ask the popular girls, because they held this social value, clout that they had no idea about, making them highly desirable to be seen with at homecoming. Because anything could happen after homecoming, right? Kisses, sex, teens saying they had sex when really their dad caught them making out on the driveway. For a group of popular girls, only one had been asked to be a date, and she would have a magical night to add to her memories. 

At first, she thought with her whole heart that Jack would ask her, but then he asked another girl who she didn’t even know. She waited weeks and even had a jumpscare dream that Quinn was forced to take her out of pity. She physically cringed at that, as hot as she found him. Jack was positive though and reassured her that someone would come, there were loads of guys in their grade, one of them was bound to ask her, ‘You’re y/n! Why wouldn’t someone ask you? You’re the coolest and funniest! He’d be stupid to pass you up!’. He tried his best to wingman, he really did, and he thought he’d hit the bullseye with a guy from his gym class.

Y/n sat at one of the tables pushed to the side, cheek resting in her palm while she watched the couples and groups dance under the warm lighting of the gym. The committee settled of a Great Gatsby theme, with dim lighting, a red carpet at the entrance, extravagant balloons and chandeliers covering the ceiling, gold accessories, red tablecloths and a photo booth. Nobody had asked her along with her friends, she wasn’t originally going to attend, claiming to Jack that, ‘It was just a stupid dance, why would I go?’ but there she sat, alone.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, 21:30. Two hours had been long enough for attendance, surely, and clearly nobody was dying to see her. With a sigh, she stood up, patting down her outfit and began to make her way towards the doors. She took one final gaze into the crowd of swaying and hands roaming bodies, the sea parting briefly and the world fell silent. Standing frozen, her eyes widened slightly, lips parting as she locked eyes with him. He was blatantly staring right back at her, like she’d caught him red-handed in the act. Jack stood amongst the crowd, alone, hands stuffed into his suit pockets and looking the most handsome she’d ever seen him. Like a moth to a flame, their legs moved on their own, weaving through the crowd with lips slipping into smiles the closer they became to each other until they stopped chest to chest, joining the sea of bodies. As if on cue, the once upbeat music lulled into a soft and slow song, the accent lights dimming until the chandeliers projected perfect amber droplets around the gym. 

Jack held his hand out, “Will you dance with me?” 

She didn’t need to speak, her hand melted into his as he pulled her into his chest, gliding his hands to her hips while hers looped around his neck, swaying in perfect sync to the music. He looked so good, too good, or maybe he always looked like that, and it was only then she was letting herself accept it. The way his thumbs caressed her hips made it too easy to seek comfort in him, gentle and thoughtful, not ghosting but not bruising. The perfect pressure that made the pit of her stomach warm and tingly. 

Jack’s heart exploded repeatedly in his chest, like she was the cause of his death yet also the healer. He hadn’t expected to see her alone that night, he really believed she’d be swept off her feet so when he caught her just before she slipped away, out of his reach, he was five seconds from bursting through the crowds, without a care for who he pissed off, they didn’t matter. When her hands touched his neck, the only thing he felt like doing was hugging her tight and close, to run his hands over her to feel the fire burn through him all over again, and again, and again. That addicting kind of burn, the kind that kept him warm. He just never wanted her to let him go, didn’t want to become an infirm flame.

“Thought you weren't coming to this stupid dance?” his voice husky, quiet, not to kill the mood for others but his playfulness seeped through.

A wave of confidence washed over her, maybe it was destiny they’d found each other, “It was stupid because I didn’t have a date. But I guess it's not so bad anymore. I get to dance with a pretty guy.” 

“I was about to ditch until a pretty girl agreed to dance with me.” He chuckled.

“You think I’m pretty?” Her smile dropped slowly, and her eyebrows raised. Jack swore he saw the stars in her eyes then, glittering under the lights and just them two in the world. 

“Always.” He murmured. Her lips twitched up when his smile never faltered, ever since they met, he always looked at her like she’d hung the stars out for him. “I’m sorry nobody asked you to be their date. I thought- I’m sorry, I thought Ryan would. Guess he pussied out.”

He knew he should’ve talked to her, asked her if anyone had asked her yet, if Ryan from gym class did go through with it, but guilt bit him in the gut. That’s what he got for neglecting his best friend, focussing on a girl he met four days prior, and he paid the price by watching her heart break before his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” she cupped his cheek, feeling him melt into her hand like putty as he leaned down, “but I’m flattered you assumed I would have one. I came with my friends instead, but I lost them.”

“If it helps, my date ditched me too. Pretty much as soon as we got here.”

Their gazes steadied on each other, her hand glued to his face and showing no sign of moving away as he closed in on her lips. She stood on her tiptoes, attempting to close the gap with hot, trembling breaths tangling and lips inches apart. Heartbeats raced at a million miles per hour, hammering in their ears with what felt like electricity transferring between them with how giddy they were. It was just them in the room, their world and everyone was just existing. Lips ghosted, eyes fluttering closed as they took the final leap. 

Until Jack pulled back, and instead let his lips meet her forehead for a gentle kiss. Yet the thrill remained, smiles shone brightly, and eyes still sparkled under the chandeliers. His mind screamed at him, screamed insults and profanities for not thinking clearly, face flushing pink as his smile poorly hid his embarrassment. Y/n wanted to run, but her feet refused to move, heart too swept up in the moment.

*

Winters in Toronto bit hard. Froze anyone to their core, nothing but one big duvet of snow covering every building, road and car for miles, taunting the poor civilians who had to wake up extra early just to shovel their driveways and lay layers of grit on the footpaths. The only real redeeming quality for it were the Christmas decorations plotted around people’s front yards and lights wrapped around fences and trees, hung on porches and bushes. Perhaps the Christmas spirit too, when people decide to be just a little bit kinder than normal or suddenly feel the urge to see every family member they know, or huddle inside and watch films by the fire all day with hot chocolate and puzzles. The best of all, Christmas break. A house with no parents for days and freedom to do whatever you wanted. 

Unfortunately for y/n and Quinn, there was no huddling in the warmth or sleeping in. The two eldest siblings were promptly enforced to shovelling duty in the AM so their parents could make it to work on time. Thick coats zipped to chins and hockey beanies pulled down to the eyebrows. Y/n’s dad was an early riser, so she never had too much to shovel at six-thirty in the morning with headtorches, but since she was already up, she trudged her way down the road, shovel in hand and surprised Quinn by aiding him. Both gave each other a mutual look of disapproval at their parent’s decision, why were they the ones being punished? 

“You don’t have to do this, y’know.” He was so kind, too kind, and such a softie with the way he smiled though his face felt numb.

Y/n tipped a pile of snow off his driveway, “Wasn’t like a was sleeping anyway, teamwork makes the dream work.” 

He chuckled with her, both shovelling the last pieces of snow before huffing and high fiving.

“Hey, we’re heading down the rink this evening, you wanna join? Jack’s dying to teach you how to skate, won’t shut up about it.”

At seven-thirty in the evening, the rink was exactly where y/n had found herself, her hands clutched in Jack’s as she attempted to skate like a newborn giraffe. His practice wouldn’t start until eight, and he was determined to get her skating on her own by the end of the public session. Kind of. Part of him had a longing to skate side by side with her, her arm looped with his as they glided around the ice in a perfect sync, yet the other part melted into a puddle when she clung to him for stability, she was just too cute when she concentrated. How could she rollerblade but not ice skate? It was the same thing, almost. 

“I got you, don’t try and walk, trust the blades and push. I won’t let you fall; I promise.” He instructed, intently watching her feet move and progressively start gliding yet also trying to not tumble backwards. “That’s it, you’re doing so well.”

His words repeated in her head like a verse, a greed for success shining at the end of a dark tunnel, she would learn to skate eventually. Even though she was barely skating, she laughed the entire time, deep down knowing Jack was doing a lot more dragging than he was letting on, he just wanted her to be happy and have fun. 

“You think you can try on your own? I’ll still catch you.” The shock and horror on her face when he let go sent a shockwave through him, y/n was hard to rattle, courageous as they came sometimes and he never thought ice would be her enemy. He found it somewhat amusing, watching her wobble like a baby deer, cautiously moving one leg in front of the other and her arms reaching out to him just for him to slide back, like she was chasing him. 

“Jack this is terrifying!” she cried, but not seriously. 

“No no, you’re doing fine, look! You’re skating!” 

“Barely!” She straightened her hunched posture, bending her knees like Jack had shown her and caught his burning eyes. He did have confidence in her, real, genuine confidence that she wasn’t a lost cause. So, the ambition grew, pushing with more power, using her hands to drive her stride instead of looking for him and by seven-fifty, she could just about skate in one direction. 

With one hefty push, she threw her hands up in victory, forgetting about stability and purposely falling into Jack, who caught her by the waist and cheered with her while spinning in a circle with smiles that ached their cheeks.

“I did it!”

“I told you so, Sunshine!” He pulled her onto her feet, hands holding hers tight and cosy, looking at her like she was the most beautiful diamond of the batch, “When I’m out there with the big shots, I’ll take you to the family skate, and the whole world can see us, I swear.”

“Sounds good to me! You better be winning games though!”

“Duh! I have a practice game today, and if I win, I think I deserve a thank you for being your coach.” Although he was only joking, she’d known him long enough to know he was also being dead serious.

“Alright, I suppose. What do you want?”

He pretended to think hard, rubbing his non-existent facial hair on his jaw, “Mmm, I think if I win, I would like a kiss, right here.” He pointed to his cheek. He knew goddamn well what he was doing, the boy craved affection and attention and he knew she was willing to feed it to him.

She agreed, short-circuiting for a second at his wishes but not entirely opposed to the idea overall. He was cute, and she did wonder what it would feel like to kiss a boy and her friends had all done it so why wouldn’t she? The final call for changeover buzzed and vibrated the walls, public skaters leaving the ice and the hockey coaches entering to set up. Jack led y/n off, taking her skates off for her and bidding her a temporary goodbye with a squeeze before she left to sit in the lobby. 

On the way through to the locker rooms, an arm plonked itself around his shoulder, “Lil’ Hugh, that uh, girl you were with, she’s real cute. She got a Snapchat?” 

Shrugging his arm off, he continued walking, “Not for you, Chris.”

“Oh~,” Chris was his teammate, and unfortunately someone Jack could never find a middle ground with. He thought he had superiority since his father was a former professional hockey player, “Is she your girlfriend? That why?”

Jack turned the corner and entered the locker room, ignoring Chris’ comments and gossip but his fuse shortened every time Chris opened his mouth. Y/n wasn’t some girl to rotate around the team, he’d sworn to himself that she’d never go near the team ever. She was his person; she and hockey were separate, and he hated how badly his jaw tightened whenever her name left someone else’s mouth. All he wanted was to scoop her up in his arms and tell her how much she meant to him. He knew, oh knew painfully well how down bad he’d fallen for his best friend already. 

Y/n almost dropped her phone when the doors to the lobby swung open to a Jack bundling through them at some inhuman speed. She whipped around, standing up to open her arms, catching him with a stumble. The cheesy grin on his face meant one thing, and it was that Jack was about to claim victory for the second time. With a playful eye roll, she cupped his jaw, little fires tingling over his skin and igniting more goosebumps than the cold could. Her lips softly met his cheek, giving it a sweet peck before he engulfed her in a bear hug.

Sixteen was such a socially vital age to be turning. Everyone had crazy sixteenth birthdays it seemed. She remembered Quinn’s well, he’d thrown a house party and when she found out she was invited, surprised was an understatement. Some guy had managed to get his hands on alcohol, and at least half the guests got tipsy, except this one girl who threw up in the garden. She knew that because it was her and Jack who’d hosed it down before Ellen and Jim got home the next morning. It was also her and Jack who’d nursed Quinn’s hangover and cleaned half the house for him, safe to say that it was a party people remembered. 

Now it was Jack’s sixteenth, he hadn’t planned to celebrate socially until the weekend, savouring the actual day to have at home, just the two of them watching a marathon of The Mighty Ducks in the living room although spent most of the second movie eyeing up the present and card on the coffee table in front of them. Pausing the TV, he took the card between his fingers, slicing the envelope with his nail.  

Y/n bit her lip, in excitement or nerves, she wasn’t sure, but she struggled to sit still in anticipation as he pulled the card out. His eyes lit up, carefully holding the handmade card between his fingers, admiring the poster of himself in the format of his favourite video game cover (‘chel’/NHL). Pestering Ellen for photos was worth it after all, the edit looked almost real. No store-bought present could come anywhere close in value to the card in his hands, and the long message handwritten inside made his chest swell and tummy do somersaults like it was going to explode. Placing the card on the coffee table, he reached for the present, looking back at her for the go ahead before tearing the paper to shreds over the floor.  

“Thank you so much, Sunshine.” He tackled her back into the sofa cushions, fingers gripping the marshmallow-scented cologne he’d mentioned one lunchtime.  

“Anytime.” She fished for the remote, hitting the play button and accepting the fact that Jack had no intention of moving off her, nuzzling his head into her chest as if he couldn’t have been any more obvious to her. She didn’t mind, it was only Jack, and the weight was comfortable and brought a sense of security. Her arms wrapped around him, fingers carding through his hair until the sound from the TV slowly droned out, pairs of eyes fluttering closed, and they drifted off.  

While passing by, Ellen’s heart swelled. In the years y/n had joined their lives, she’d never seen her rowdiest son so calm and hooked on someone like Jack was to y/n. Ellen never told Jack or any of her boys, but back when the kids were only young, Ellen and y/n’s mother hoped they’d become friends just as the l/n’s and the Hughes’ had, enrolling them in the same schools their whole lives just to ensure that if all ended badly, they’d still have someone in their lives. They always assumed it would be y/n and Jack hitting it off being the same age, but little y/n seemed to enjoy little Quinn’s personality more, likely due to being the eldest and always having a louder younger sibling disgruntling them, hovering all the same with that childlike fascination that there’s someone else living in their home too. But kids grow up and the heartbreaking part of being a parent was watching kids grow apart from each other until they were nothing more than neighbours and strangers on the same street, the kid from class until they’d completely forgotten that at one point, they were friends.  

She draped a blanket over the two, carefully prying the cologne box from Jack’s hand and placing it on the coffee table and turning the TV off. To say that she was riddled with joy as a mother was nowhere near as descriptive as what she felt inside, even spotting the card y/n had made Jack just made her want to tear up. It wasn’t easy finding solace in someone, but as his mother, she knew that no matter who he dated, how many girls he dated, none of them would ever bring the peace of mind y/n had and unfortunately for that poor girl, y/n would always be his number one priority, whether Jack knew it himself or not. 

* 

People change ages and they also change mentally and emotionally with it. His sixteenth weekend social turned out to be one of the best nights of his life, not a great one for y/n (she was on drunk Jack duty after once again, beers had been smuggled in). She knew that one day, she would be second to Jack, he’d raved about girls to her day after day, his confidence never wavering when it came to his feelings. It started with Nicole when they were thirteen but nothing ever came of it, Talia at fourteen whom he had his first kiss with under the bleachers, he dated Emma when they were fifteen and he took her to homecoming, only for her to ditch him then dump him a month later and at late fifteen, Jack started dating Kenna but at sixteen they had recently broken up, yet Jack was still stuck on her. She never understood why, not because she was upset or jealous, but Kenna wasn’t ever clear with him whether she liked him or not, but Jack seemed to be into whatever it was. Above all those girls, he told y/n about every single one of them in crushing detail, calling until the silly hours of the morning like a lovestruck teenager. Y/n kept her crushes and boyfriends on the down low, they weren’t anyone’s business anyway. Jack had only met one of her boyfriends, and the air that day was as awkward as it came, behind Jack’s forced smile his shoulders tensed and jaw locked, poor Miles sweat like a pig for the whole interaction. But she couldn’t date Miles for long, couldn’t lead him on like she felt something real for him and after four months she called it off. He thought it was due to Jack, which would have been any guy’s default answer, but Jack had no idea about it until a week after. The worst part for Miles was that y/n didn’t shed a tear, she’d cried over Jack more. 

Y/n and Jack stood outside his friend, Liam’s, house. Music thumping, echoing into the street outside and colourful lights strobing from the windows with teens seeping into and out the house as they pleased. It was the most college looking party they’d seen, but Liam’s parents were on the wealthier side, and they had a large enough house to host.  

“Wack, I have a really bad feeling about this,” Y/n said, holding onto Jack’s arm. Her hand squeezing around his bicep made him all kinds of jittery inside.  

“It’ll be okay, yeah? If you wanna leave, either come find me or give me the signal.” He smiled, giving her forehead a quick peck, “And if you can’t find me, find my friends, you’re okay with them, right?”  

She was, she’d hung out with them on occasions and had classes with a couple of them. They weren’t on a level of friendship like Jack was with them, but they were the kind of friend where you’d still be relieved if you saw them in an unfamiliar place.  

With a nod, they entered through the crowds, snaking through bodies to find Liam and the rest of Jack’s group. In a house swamped with people she knew, y/n had never felt so small and alone, clinging to Jack’s arm like she didn’t belong there at all. She could hold onto his arm the whole night and he wouldn’t have minded; his number one fear was losing her entirely or being unable to help her in a time of dire need.  

After an hour of being at Liam’s, her vice grip on Jack’s arm was surrendered as soon as her friends arrived. Liam was only really friends with one of them, but the more the merrier, right? The level of tea that had been spilt while she and her friends dominated the sofas was astronomical, y/n had updated her mental filing cabinet of high school gossip completely, a full reboot and she’d contributed heavily to it. ‘Anyone who claims they don’t gossip is the biggest gossip’, that was their motto.  

Her friend, Rachel, leant closer into their huddle, “Guess who just arrived? Kenna!” 

“Kenna? As in Kenna who started dating Miles? That’s fucking bold.” Sarah gasped, the group’s eyes widening. 

“Huh?” y/n choked on her beer, “They’re dating? Why?” 

“Right!” Kylie’s posture straightened, her mouth falling in disbelief, “Though, I heard from Josh that Miles was super bummed when y/n/n dumped him, so maybe he’s in his revenge era?” 

“Bold of him to assume I care about what he does.” Y/n sipped her drink, scoffing slightly.  

“Really? Lily, the blonde one, said that Owen told Liam that Kenna and Jack had broken up and Kenna was so pissed about it because apparently Jack dumped her for y/n/n, which we know isn’t true because Jack and y/n/n aren’t together!” Jonie exclaimed. Y/n hated how her heart sped up, there was no way she was the reason Jack left the girl he was crazy about for her.

“That’s further from the truth,” y/n piped up, “Kenna dumped Jack a week before his birthday outside my locker, think she was upset that he planned to spend his birthday with me and not her. Fucking Cam was there too. I dumped Miles way before that.”

“Oh my God, maybe Miles thought you dumped him for Jack and Kenna assumed that you two were canoodling? Like, ‘Hey, sorry but I love my bestie more than you, you’re second place’ which is understandable, it’s normal.” Kylie raised. All drinks had been set by feet and the huddle tightened, the conversation just got juicy. 

“One, never say canoodling, two, hold up. Why would Miles date Kenna to get back at y/n? And vice versa?” Rachel asked, the group subtly glancing across the room at the two victims of their night. 

“Shit, Kenna knows Jack’s crazy about her and probably knows he hates Miles. It’s for the chase. Poor Wack.” Y/n rested her chin in her palm, her friends looking at her with sappy eyes hearing her use the nickname. 

“You two are too cute.” Kylie cooed, y/n rolling her eyes. She despised that comment with every fibre in her body. Nobody broke her heart more than the comments about how cute she and Jack were, nothing fed delusions and false hopes more. Jack liked Kenna, and that was final. In no universe would she and Jack be more than friends, as much as that tore her heart out of her chest. Maybe some people aren’t meant to be. 

As if they’d summoned him, Jack shoved his way through the crowds to the sofa and stood with panic in his eyes, “Sunshine, I need your help, like now.” 

Jack dragged her to a corner of the living room, away from the majority of the crowd but not isolated entirely. When Jack said he needed him, she hadn’t expected the following sentence at all. He’d seen Kenna and Miles, and he’d fallen into their trap, and she felt nothing but sympathy for him.  

“So, Kenna thinks we’re, like, a thing so I need you to kiss me.” He begged, y/n stood frozen, “Please, y/n, you know how crazy I am about her, I’ll make it up to you.” 

She almost shook her head and walked away, but the way he flashed his puppy eyes and clutched her hands in his, she couldn’t resist. He was so adamant that by Kenna seeing them kiss, she’d come crawling back to him in some sort of jealous fit of rage. Kissing Jack would screw things up, y/n knew that. She knew that it may have not meant anything to Jack, it would fog her feelings and mind too much and she’d never be able to look at him the same way again. But they were best friends, they were supposed to be there for each other, and his happiness was her number one priority. 

“All right, pretty boy,”  

Her hands cupped his jaw, his lips gracing into a smile. He wasn’t supposed to feel excited; he wasn’t supposed to feel restless with adrenaline surging through him and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be enjoying the way he melted into her palms and his hands embedded on her hips, pulling their bodies closer. He dipped down, closer to filling the gap between them as eyelids fluttered closed with hot breaths bouncing off each other's cheeks. The house of bustling teenagers yelling to each other over throwback songs and cheering from beer pong muted and everyone they were once surrounded by felt like they had disappeared into the void as just the two of them heard heartbeats pulse in their ears. Just Jack and y/n, y/n and Jack. Their lips pressed together, a thrilling voracity unleashing, and his tongue swiped her lower lip. She was only going to live once, and even though she’d never made out with anyone before, if she wasn’t great at it, at least it was only Jack. She opened her mouth, his tongue darting in with a fervent desire. With one hand sliding to his nape, tugging on the hairs and ripping a groan from the back of his throat, one of his hands left her hip and slid up her spine, pressing her body closer into his chest. She followed his lead, tongues lapping at each other in a rousing frenzy, like something they’d been dreaming of doing for months and getting it out of their systems turning them feral for the taste and affection. All the little touches, hugs, afternoons spent cuddling on his bed, time cooped up in each other's company with no proper understanding of their feelings finally bursting into fireworks.  

He pulled back, chests heaving as they caught breaths with half-lidded eyes speaking more words of yearning than either would admit before Jack dove back in, deeply kissing her slowly, tongues roaming mouths and moans vibrating through chests as they physically couldn’t stop themselves from drinking in one another.  

Perhaps they’d kissed a bit too long for it to be fake, kissed a bit too well for it to be a show. What they did was that dreaded limbo between a mistake and the experience of a lifetime. When they had pulled away for the final time, hands leaving each other hesitantly with sheepish smiles, Kenna stormed out the room, y/n and Jack watching her with giggles. The pair turned to each other and high-fived with strained hearts and trampled feelings being stuffed to the pits of their minds as they’d tried to forget the kiss ever happened. Not that they could, no, there was too much intent behind the way they touched, too many sparks between their lips for it to not mean anything at all. It meant everything to y/n, her first proper French kiss and when the world tuned back into play, she ascended to the heavens with pure elation. She hoped he felt the same, the way he kissed her had too much desperation and emotion behind it to all be just an act. 

Another two hours drowning at the party, another three cheap beers and she just had to break the seal, and wetting yourself at a party was not what anyone wanted in their teenage years. She splashed her face, doing her best to keep herself away, perhaps another hour and she’d go lug Jack home. Fixing her hair and outfit, she slipped from the bathroom, exhaling before entering the lion's den once again but when she turned the corner, her stomach dropped to the pit and shattered into shambles. She was so wrong. She knew it was a bad idea and she should have stayed strong when he raised the idea because then she wouldn’t be watching Jack lip-lock with Kenna right in front of her. She had to remind herself, repeat it like a mantra to drill it into her skull, they were just best friends at the end of the day. Jack was into Kenna, and she knew that, but it should’ve been her standing there. It was her before Kenna, why did he like her anyway? She was hot and cold, on and off with him, one day they were snuggled up and the next y/n was the one cradling Jack through his rambles. Kissing Jack had always meant nothing, yet she deluded herself that it meant everything. With watery eyes, she took a sharp breath and kept walking, B-lining for Jack’s friends at the beer pong table. Anything to take her mind off the invasive fantasies being abolished. Getting drunk didn’t sound all that bad anymore.  

“Hey, y/n!” Liam called as she approached, his t-shirt collar damp and stained, “You good?” 

“Yeah, was wondering if you needed one more player?” she lied, hiding any drop of hurt behind her teeth.  

They split into even teams, re-setting and refilling the red solo cups to the brim and playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who started. Liam won, lining up his aim and watching the ping pong ball bounce over all the cups, the other team (y/n’s team) letting out sighs of relief. The next guy took his shot, the ball landing in the cup and the round continued, y/n forgetting about Jack the more beer she threw down her throat.  

One round quickly turned to two in the heat of the thrill, the beer slowly running low and so Liam pulled out the vodka he’d stashed away from the rest of the party. The vodka had one hell of a kick compared to the beer, the burning satisfying as it fell down her throat, yet it was the perfect remedy as the more cups she drank from, the less Jack entered her mind. Until the room started spinning and nausea hit her like a brick. 

“I’ll be right back; I don’t feel so hot.” She tapped Liam’s shoulder, stumbling as she turned away.  

“Shit,” Liam wrapped his arm around her shoulder, stabilising her, “hold on guys, be right back.”  

Liam guided her to the bathroom, sitting down next to the toilet with her. She shook her head at him and leant over the bowl, panic rushing through him as his hands pulled her hair away from her face. 

“It’s all right, ‘atta girl,” he soothed. He shouldn’t be the one with her in that state, she needed someone close and that she trusted, and Liam wasn’t sure if she was entirely okay with him seeing her in such a disastrous state, but if he left her, Jack would tear the place up.  

She stopped retching, tears falling down her cheeks as she sobbed out hoarsely, “Just wan…ted to forget…saw.”  

Meanwhile, Jack hung in the garden with a group of girls, Kenna and her friends, re-telling a half-exaggerated story from the summer when Owen blundered over to him and gripped him by the arm, spinning him around to face him.  

“Hughesy! Your girl's not holding up so good, she played beer pong, Liam took her to the bathroom.” He explained hurriedly, watching Jack’s face screw up, brows knitting deepening on this forehead and suddenly the girls weren’t important anymore. 

“And you left her there?!” he hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but his fight or flight kicked in and he shrugged Owen off, storming into the house, “Thanks anyway.” 

Jack’s ears blocked out his classmates swear at him as he burst through the house, pushing his way to the bathroom like the place was on fire, swinging the bathroom door open and halting when his eyes laid upon y/n slumped against the cabinet, Liam sat opposite her. 

“I got her, go. Thanks for keeping an eye on her.” He let Liam squeeze past before locking the door. Jack crouched in front of her, his chest tightening at her tear-stained cheeks tinted red, his palm resting on her cheek. 

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said softly, y/n nuzzling into his hand with opening, puffy eyes, “why’d you drink so much?” 

“M’was sad.” She uttered out, pulling her knees closer to her chest with a fuzzy head and weak jaw. 

“And why were you sad?” his thumb rubbed her cheek, guilt building in his stomach. She was in dire need of him, and he wasn’t there. The evil voice at the back of his brain refusing to let it slide, howling it at him, ‘You weren’t fucking there! It’s your fault!’. 

She lulled her head up straight, red, sleepy eyes staring into his, “Because…you kissed me,” she slurred, sniffing, “and I liked it, and I shouldn't have…because you kissed another girl. So, it meant…meant nothing.” 

You kissed me and I liked it. It rang through his head like a parasite. Actions have consequences, his dad had always told him that since he was a child and he was finally realised that he didn’t just mean in hockey, but in life. Not only had he messed up his own feelings but now hers too and it was all his fault. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, he just wanted to night to end, the moment to pass and a new day to begin where everything went back to normal. Where he could hug and hold her without thinking about a future where she was more than his best friend, where he wouldn’t be squatting on a bathroom floor, holding his drunk y/n’s head in his palm while evidently displaying the fact she had been crying because of him, even worse that Liam had seen her. Even worse that she felt the need to drink until she puked just to get it out her head.  

“You’re drunk, y/n. You have no idea what you’re saying.”  

She raised her hand and gripped his wrist, “I’m drunk, not stupid. You’re annoying…and annoyingly pretty. It’s not fair! Why dont guys like you like me!? Why do guys like Miles like me, he’s so…so lukewarm.” 

She tried to stand up, wobbling but he caught her, his arm snaking around her waist as she put her weight into him. He would always catch her.  

“You deserve better than guys like me, Sunshine.” He unlocked the door, walking with her through the foyer until they left out the front door, “The guy who wins your heart will be so lucky.”  

It was midnight by the time they’d managed to trek home, y/n sobering up as they walked, leaning her body weight less and less into him but they walked hand in hand the entire way. Although it was nearly mid-May, the nights were still chilly, and both regretted not wearing jackets.  

Jack walked her to her back door, her head still a bit fuzzy and his heart aching tremendously. Neither said a word, they gave each other a slight nod but to her surprise he planted a kiss on her forehead. Then he spun on his heel and left out her back gate. 

* 

Life moved on since the party and neither Jack nor y/n bought it up either, the whole event just seemed to fade into a memory vault. Yet too many nights of overthinking, too many hugs that lasted too long and sex dreams after the kiss just kept the feelings on a loop. But enough time passed for them to sit in Jack’s room at the lake house during the summer, chatting like usual and laughing at stupid jokes. Somehow, y/n had convinced Ellen and Jim to let her share with Jack, her point being that sharing with boys was awkward (even though she, Alex and Cole got along perfectly, harmonious to be absolute) and Jack couldn’t bear Trevor’s brutal snoring for another year. So, they let y/n take the mattress on Jack’s floor, emphasising the ‘no funny business’ rule once again. 

Jack tossed and turned in his bed, shorts hiked up his thighs from wiggling so much, sheets twisted and his mind refusing to sleep. He tried flipping his pillow, turning the fan on a colder setting, and counting sheep but he couldn’t stop thinking. 

“Jack, stop moving.” She whispered from the floor, irritated at the rustling. 

“I can’t sleep knowing you have to sleep on the floor.” It wasn’t a complete lie, “Sleep here with me.” 

Opening her eyes slowly, she gulped. He wanted her to share his bed? Even after they made out and she confessed her darkest secrets about it to him? He muttered a ‘Please’ before she threw her duvet off and slipped into his bed, Jack shimmying over next to the wall. They laid on their sides, facing each other with nothing but the whirring fan filling the silence. He tried to keep his eyes steady, to stop them from wandering to her collarbones and cleavage but why did she have to wear a tank top to bed? Was she trying to kill him? The bikinis during the day had him sweating and retreating to his room early to deal with his uncomfortably tight shorts as it was. What was she doing to him? 

“Did you mean it? Did you really like it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.  

She knew exactly what he meant, the only thing they hadn’t been talking about. “Why would I lie to you?” 

“I liked it too. I don’t care if people know we kissed, by the way. I wasn’t ashamed. I just didn’t want to make things awkward, so I didn’t bring it up.” He placed his hand over hers on the pillow, as if to hold it.  

She smiled at him, “It’s okay, as long as we’re cool.” 

He paused and gazed into her eyes, admiring how they shimmered under the moonlight that seeped through his blinds. “You’re a good kisser, dunno if anyone’s ever told you that.” 

“You too,” she giggled, “when did you learn how to make out?” 

“Honestly, I winged it. That was the first time I’ve made out with somebody but I’m glad it was you. You were a lot better than she was.” 

“What happened to her?”  

Jack exhaled, taking his hand off hers and his arm winding around her waist instead, tucking her into his chest. Y/n’s arm snaked around his torso, the two intertwining and slicing the thick atmosphere that once separated them. With that action alone, y/n knew his answer, she was the only woman back in his arms again. As it should have been. As it should be.

The weeks before the annual lake house trip was always the most hectic. So much packing, cleaning, laundry and sorting out car and bedroom arrangements. Ellen and Jim had to spend almost two days brainstorming on how everything would work efficiently and make everyone happy. The more summers that passed, the more they got used to their big group and they didn’t mind anymore. What was supposed to be a one-off turned annual but giving the kids fond memories of their childhoods and adolescence was all that mattered. However, Jack had started dating a girl called Tabby from school which meant for weeks on end he pestered Ellen to let her join the lake house. Of course she was wary about space, but she didn’t want his teenage moods to ruin the summer. The settlement was final, Tabby could join for a week, but she had to find her own way there since their cars were full. Or so Ellen hoped. It wasn’t like she hated Tabby, she barely knew her son’s new girlfriend, but she hoped y/n would still be on the invite and if Jack wasn’t going to relay the message, then she would. She just prayed Jack still remembered he had a best friend.  

Saturday nights were Jack’s turn to wash the dishes, even if he complained every time. It was good training for when he got older and would have to do it anyway. Quinn would do his part without question, Luke too, but Jack moved at one-hundred miles per hour, everything else was far more interesting than chores. Especially Tabby, the girl he thought he’d fallen in love with, thought about all the time, wanted to spend the little moments with. 

Luke entered the kitchen, two plates in his hands and he placed them next to the sink, Quinn following with the last one. Jack scowled, placing a wet plate onto the drying rack. Both Luke and Quinn gave each other a side-eye, nudging each other’s ribs behind the middle’s back, silently gesturing who would speak up first.  

Luke rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “Is y/n coming this summer? She better be, Jack.” 

Jack shrugged, placing another plate to his right, “If she wants to.” 

“Does she know that?” Quinn prompted, folding his arms over his chest.  

“…probably?” Jack’s voice was far too dismissive to his brothers, like he didn’t even care at all, hadn’t even thought about it. Quinn’s tongue poked his cheek, Luke exhaling. 

“You’re such an ass, I’m texting her.” The youngest exasperated, his dirty-blond curls bouncing as he pulled his phone from his pocket, fingers typing rapidly. 

“Mum’s not gonna let you and Tabby share your room, by the way. That only works with y/n/n.” Quinn was his big brother, it was his job to tick his brother off, have the last word and assert that he was in the right. 

Jack placed the final plate on the drying rack, roughly pulling the rubber gloves off and swung around to face his siblings, eyebrows knitted into a deep ‘v’, “You guys suck! Why can’t you be supportive?” He snapped, voice echoing through the kitchen and dining. 

“You’re not seeing the point, Jack.” Luke kept his voice calm, even though his knuckles gripped his phone until they were white, “We don’t care if Tabby comes or not, we care if y/n is. And I just invited her so some friend you are.”  

Quinn was almost shaking, seething as he hissed, “Don’t forget who was here first. Goodnight Jack.”  

He shook his head with disappointment, turning and leaving the room, Luke tailing behind him. The clock ticked in the silence that swallowed Jack, his breathing heavy and rattling in his ears as his eyes caught sight of the photo on the wall. It was from last summer, a group photo of the usual suspects around the fire pit, wrapped up in hoodies and blankets with hot chocolates in their laps. The lawn chairs had all been taken, so he, y/n and Trevor sat on the log, y/n huddled between the two boys with their arms thrown over her shoulders. The same distaste coating his tongue as it did in the moment, something about how close she and Trevor had been that summer. The only thing making it better was how she fell asleep in his bed, in his hold and how she also was not ashamed of kissing him. 

But he had a girlfriend now, so why did it still hurt to think about y/n? 

Seventeen was such a floodgate age. You were in love with living and so dearly connected with souls, afraid to get old but at the same time you were so inconsolably fragile. Y/n’s stomach twisted whenever she saw Jack and Tabby together. Slowly, day by day, she watched him drive further into the distance while she was left in the rear-view mirror. She couldn’t control him; he was free to love and live how he wanted but didn’t think she would be easily replaced. At least she was the first to make out with him, the first to cradle him while he cried, fall asleep with him on sofas and beds, tell him he was pretty but now she was lucky to receive a text back. She hung out with Luke more than him since Tabby entered the picture. She played street hockey with Luke, watched movies with Quinn, FaceTimed Trevor, played games with Cole, texted Alex, spent Sunday’s shopping and took long drives with her friends instead. It was starting the feel like the older they got, the further apart they became. So much so that she found herself texting Cole, Trevor and Alex more than Jack. Hell, they thought they texted her more than they did Jack.  

Trevvy R u lake housing this summer? Pls say yes cuz ik jizzy’s got his new girl and ur always no 1 y/n <3 You’ll have to take that up with Jacko, depends if I still have a place in his heart I just say yes to the invite I hope so tho I miss you and the boys  Trevvy U’LL ALWAYS HAVE A PLACE IN MY HEART ANGEL We miss u 2 I’m gonna be so pissed if ur not I wont go. Omg u can come to me!!!!  y/n <3 Thanks Twevvy But gross no thanks You should still go tho like don’t let me get between friendships  Trevvy Ur so mean to me :( Dw Tabby already did that We r y/n/n supporters in this house <3333  y/n <3 Lukey’s invited me!! But snore in my ear and I’ll rip your balls off <3 

She was just about to fall asleep, a new excitement flushing now she was officially going back to the lake house and away from the house for another year until her phone flashed. Her brother had only become worse, and she started getting used to the Hughes’ getaway home, that was the scary part. 

Wack Huh🤕 I was gonna call u but its late but im sorry Ik this is poor of me to say over text but it cant wait. Im sorry for kinda just leaving u behind now im w tabby. Idk what was wrong w me but Q and lukey opened my eyes and after thinking i realise ive been a dick abt it. Im sorry for not hanging out with u as much and for not texting or calling, im sorry i haven’t been sitting with u at lunch either. Im gonna go back to how things were w us. Im sorry for not inviting u to the lake sooner and that luke had 2 do it. I do want u 2 come ur my best friend ofc i do, i need u. I wont let it happen again, im so sorry sunshine i love u and u’ll always be my no 1 u were here first <3 

She really didn’t know how to feel. There was no distinctive feeling but as he’d said, they were best friends, and she needed him too and it did hurt. It stung like a bitch but not forgiving and giving him a chance would have stung more. 

Sunshine💪 Thank you You’re forgiven but i miss you so please don’t let it happen again. Idc if you’re with tabby or not as long as you’re happy but you have friends too that love you more than any girl could 

* 

Tabby had arrived at the lake house a week after the Hughes’ and honorary Hughes did. She wasn’t a stranger to his brothers and y/n, but Trevor, Cole and Alex had never seen or met Tabby (only knew the name) so when some girl rocked up at the door, the three suddenly got the memo that Jack’s girlfriend had come to join him on their adventures, and avoided her like the plague, subtly. Y/n, Quinn and Luke, all had given each other looks, knowing that they wouldn’t see Jack for the week.  

So, when Jack yanked y/n into his bedroom one afternoon out the blue, shock slapped her around the face. He closed his door urgently, eyes wide in a panic, his clothes skewed over his room, and he stood skittish in front of his mirror, dressed in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts.  

“Be honest, do I look good?” he asked her, biting his nail.  

Y/n blinked, processing how she’d never seen him so unsure of himself. Wanting to impress someone was natural, but Jack’s confidence usually never wavered, especially around people he was comfortable with. 

“Stupid question. You look great, possibly the cleanest I’ve ever seen you.” She stood next to him, like they had done years ago when she cried over a bikini.  

He fussed with his collar, spinning to face her, peering down at the way her eyes softened, “Really? Good, I’d be so lost without you. Why am I scared, y/n? It’s just a date.” 

Her eyebrows raised. Date? Since when did he start planning dates? It couldn’t be helped when you could be in love with your best friend, that slither of jealousy choking her neck. Y/n swatted his hands away from his collar, straightening it out and patting it flat. Her hands slid to his chest, smile tugging on her lips as his hands moved in autopilot to hover over her hips, fingers barely ghosting the fabric of her (his) hoodie. 

“Because you want to impress her. It’s normal, you want her to keep liking you and get to know her more.” She replied gently, watching the way his eyes glued to hers in a trance. 

“You always know what to say, Sunshine,” his voice was deeper than last year, chest firmer and as much as she knew she had to stop enjoying her hands on his chest, she couldn’t back away, “s’one of the things I like about you.” 

Thank the stars he’d closed his door, because if anyone had seen them standing almost chest to chest with hands in places they shouldn’t have been for just friends, the hurricane that would have broken loose would have been disastrous. Yet neither moved, thumbs rubbed circles over fabrics and thoughts spiralled, the same devilish thoughts from Liam’s birthday party. How soft lips looked, how pretty and handsome they’d become, how sharp jawlines were and how alluring eyes had become. Touches igniting the fires than tingled over skin all over again. The aroma of marshmallows that had her dying to bury her nose in his neck. That stupid cologne. How dare he wear it for a woman that was not her. The scent that triggered waterfalls of memories and feelings; him sleeping on her chest, her tucked under his arm. 

“You smell really good, almost familiar.” She mumbled with a smirk, batting her eyelashes at him sinfully. 

His lips quirked, “Marshmallows? I wear it when I need you around.”  

To school, to hockey, to family functions, to parties, to dates, whenever she wasn’t there, the cologne was. It was his own reassurance, comfort. When he’d neglected her before summer, every time he wore the cologne, the smell would bring a longing, a sense of emptiness and he never figured out why. He didn’t care if anyone liked the way it smelled, unless it was y/n. Always y/n. Only y/n. 

She slipped her hand to his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes gradually as he dipped down, wetting his lips. The action felt familiar, the attraction like a Siren’s song as their noses bumped hesitantly, breaths hitting cheeks and lips ghosting, sparks shooting through nerves and through bodies and hitting the fight reflex. She titled her head up, millimetres away from closing the gap and warmth pooling into her lower stomach. He wanted to kiss her again. Again, again and again. Recreate their night all over again and she needed to taste his tongue. But as their lips barely met, his door handle rattled and opened hastily. Jack let her go and y/n pushed him back, both stepping away and creating a sensible distance between the two of them, cheeks flaring at the realisation that they shouldn’t be left alone.  

Tabby poked her head through the door with a smile, “Jack, are you- Oh hey, y/n! Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry I just needed to…ask him something…I’ll, uh, go now. Have fun!” She fumbled over her words, pulling her sleeves over her hands and slipping past Tabby, stumbling into Cole in the hall. 

After leaving Jack’s room in a hurry, she hadn’t a clue where she was going until her legs took her to the back porch, sitting on the porch swing. The sun set in in the distance, the orange and pink hues cascading down the sky and the lake’s water twinkling. She sank back into the cushions with a gentle swing, eyes fixated on Trevor, Luke and Alex playing swing ball down on the grass. There was peace, nothing but quiet for once. She closed her eyes, relishing in the breeze and movement of the swing until the seat dipped next to her. Opening one eye, she was met with Quinn’s comforting figure. He didn’t say anything at first, just sat and swung next to her, watching the boys below hit the tennis ball with too much aggression for what it was worth.  

“You know he’s just gonna keep breaking your heart, right?” He stated, gaze maintaining on the boys.  

She suspired, a bittersweet smile on her lips and eyes, “And I’ll let him every time.” 

Quinn’s heart sank, he’d watched his little brother obsess over her for years, talk about how pretty and cool she was, beg for her undivided attention and fear that she’d like his brothers more. The dramatic switch up hit like a brick, and if it was tough on him, y/n must’ve been feeling one hell of a storm inside. He scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leant her head on his shoulder, sniffing.  

There was nothing romantic about the gesture, they’d known each other for so long it was more comforting in a brotherly way. At one point she may have had the tiniest crush on Quinn, but spending every week with him normalised his presence and spending more time around Jack made the feelings jump from one brother to another.  

“Try not to think about him, hang with the others instead. You’re allowed to have friends too. Jack’s just annoying, remember that.” He reassured, attempting a light-hearted sprinkle of humour.  

* 

Boat days were always highest priority, even if waking up was difficult. She’d slept well for once, considering she was sharing the basement with the boys. She could have shared the spare room with Tabby, but from the kindness of her heart, she let her have the room to herself as she was considered the guest, and because y/n felt awkward. Besides, pillow fights in the basement hit different and Uno when you’ve got to be quiet turned out to be funnier than it should have been. The basement was just the vibe, kitchenette under the stairs, glass sliding doors out into the garden, pool table in the middle, fireplace with a scoreboard on the right side of the doors and a c-shape sectional sofa and a TV on the other side, bathroom in the corner.  

Y/n wasn’t as upset as she’d thought she would have been, seeing Jack and Tabby together. Trevor had consoled her beforehand that she was welcome to join him and the other two on shenanigans if Jack was, in his words, ‘being a dick’. But she wasn’t upset when they all headed out into the lake, Jack and Tabby cuddled up together on one end of the deck while the other hooted and hollered at y/n tearing it up on the wakeboard.  

“Lookin’ hot, y/n/n!” Trevor called, pulling his phone out. 

“When did you get so good!?” Cole’s eyes almost falling from their sockets in surprise.  

Tabby and Jack were in their own bubble, chatting with arms around each other while blocking out the laughter from the others. Though, Jack’s eyes couldn’t stay on his girlfriend for long, they seemed to flicker between her face and the way Trevor caught y/n as she stepped back onto the decking, handing her the towel before it was Luke’s turn. Something about seeing y/n with the guys just irked him.  

The second time Jack found himself licking his teeth was on Tuesday night. The usual suspects circling the fire pit, roasting marshmallows and chatting until their eyes became heavy. Tabby was deep into sharing a story with the group, but it fell deaf on his ears, and apparently y/n’s too. She’d also apparently decided that wearing Trevor’s hoodie was more comfortable than his. Her melted marshmallow had bumped Trevor’s, and the pair were trying to unstick them while suppressing giggles as to not be rude to Tabby. Usually it was himself and y/n trying to stifle laughter.  

Wednesday he’d taken Tabby to a flower show she’d been interested in. But the biggest mistake he’d made was opening his Snapchat to find, via Alex’s story, that his friends, brothers and y/n had gone down to the go karting track without him. In the video was Cole and Trevor pulling up, both boys flashing the camera a wink before he heard y/n voice ring out from behind the camera. 

“That was so hot, Alex send me that.” 

“You could just ask and we’ll do it again.” Cole’s voice muffled by his helmet. 

“You do know your way to a girl’s heart, Caulfield.” 

He had a girlfriend, why was he seething over a few banterous comments? It happened all the time, they were friends! It meant nothing! 

Wednesday afternoon, only a couple of days left until Tabby had to leave and instead of planning how to make her days special, Jack watched his best friend teach Trevor, Cole and Alex how to shotgun a beer from the porch. They all laughed harmoniously, like seventeen-year-olds should, alcohol spraying everywhere when someone didn’t quite make it but grabbing another can from the crate Jim bought them as a treat.  

“Tabs, you wanna go join them? It’ll be fun! Y/n’s super cool, she’ll teach you better than I would.” He interrupted his girlfriend, who was mid-ramble about a concert she was dying to see.  

“Oh, no it’s okay. I don’t drink, but I’ll stay here and watch!” Tabby politely declined, she was too kind, but disappointed when she realised that Jack hadn’t been listening for the past five minutes.  

He stayed, sitting back into the cushions and resting his arm over the back of the bench, eyes still blankly staring at his friends below.

Lukewarm beer pooled down Cole’s throat; his free arm raised in the air as he’d finally been able to successfully shotgun without the drink exploding over himself. The other three cheered, only Trevor left to gain success. He tossed the can around in his palm, puncturing the bottom with the key and tilting his head back only to have it spray over his face and t-shirt, his friends bursting into fits around him.  

In an instant retaliation, he turned to the nearest person and held the can towards them. Beer sprayed over y/n’s t-shirt and hair, earning a squeal from her that rang through the yard. 

“The fuck, Trev!” She swatted his arm away from her, grabbing his can and sticking it to soak Alex instead. Alex ran, only to have y/n chase him with the drink as it rinsed his clothes. 

“You bitch!” It was his turn to take the can and chase Cole, who screamed the loudest blood-curdling scream as the others cackled, holding stomachs and dodging the firing line.  

The evening Tabby bid her goodbyes before Ellen drove her to the airport was the worst moment of Jack’s teenage life. He’d barely seen his friends all day, making Tabby’s last day special before helping her with her bags and giving her a kiss goodbye before he watched his mum’s car drive down the road. He would have joined if his assistance wasn’t needed at the barbecue. Watching his girl leave wasn’t the worst part, it was what came after that. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and stood in the foyer, strangely absent of that empty feeling when good times come to an end, that longing when you don’t know what to do with yourself. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to hurl himself into y/n’s arms, tuck his face into her neck and feel her fingers rake through his hair, tugging gently through the knots while she vented about how stupid the characters in a movie were. But he couldn’t. Was that…wrong? To want such a thing when his girlfriend just left. He wasn’t going to be a cheater, y/n would never forgive him if he did such a thing to anyone, and he wouldn’t forgive himself either. He loved Tabby after all, and clearly y/n loved Trevor’s company better.  

Shuffling through the house and onto the back porch, Jack froze, the light in his eyes dimming, his jealousy growing from a thorn in his side to a leash around his neck upon watching his friends play basketball on the patio. Y/n shot the ball into the hoop, circling the rim before falling in. Trevor and y/n jumped for joy around a defeated Alex and Cole, y/n leaping into Trevor’s arms as they hugged in celebration. Jack grit his teeth, that should have been him spinning her around, holding her waist. But no, it had to be Trevor, his other best friend. 

Actions have consequences, they said. And what they said was right. But Jack still hadn’t entirely grasped that concept entirely. To him, he was being replaced, that y/n didn’t want him anymore now he had a girlfriend.  

* 

After Tabby left, the basement dwellers moved to the spare room, but y/n didn’t retreat to Jack’s. He had half expected her to, but he ended up laying alone, ignoring the texts from his girlfriend and scrolling through photos of himself and y/n, wondering what life would be like if he didn’t have Tabby.  

It wasn’t often y/n woke up in dire need of a drink, especially in the middle of the night. She also didn’t mean to hang around in the kitchen for too long, but the moon just shone beautifully, almost enticing her into her own little world. So much so that the footsteps against the floor startled her, fear running, thinking the worst-case scenario that either Jim or Ellen were about to tell her to go back to bed. But it never came. Her eyes met his in the reflection of the glass and she turned to face him calmly, a small smile on her lips seeing his blue eyes focus on her for the first time in a while. Jack’s body urged; legs restless as they just stood listening to the kitchen clock tick in the dark. Her feet concrete to the ground, with tears welling in his sullen eyes, swift like the breeze, his arms encased around her shoulders, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. Y/n hummed, winding her arms around his torso and listening to the way his heartbeat slowed. Jack could be told a million times that he’d hurt her, but the only way he’d realise was to feel it with his own heart.

“You guys are seeing what I’m seeing…right?” Cole asked, adjusting his seating when the leather starting stinging from the heat.  

Y/n, Quinn, Luke, Alex and Trevor replied in unison with ‘yep’ and ‘yup’, the group blatantly staring at Jack and his new girlfriend sitting at the bow of the boat. After last summer, Tabby had broken up with Jack a couple of months later, something about just not being a fit for each other. Of course, Jack was devastated, but not as much as he thought he’d be which showed a lot about his feelings, but life moved on normally. He still had his best friend, and he still had his family. He still had his constants, especially that constant feeling like he was in competition. Regardless, it wasn’t long until he was laying on y/n’s lap, telling her all about this girl, Ari. And as everyone had assumed, Ari joined their lake house summer for a week.  

“It’s kinda freaky, do you think he realises?” Trevor added, y/n shaking her head at him. 

“Either he doesn’t and he’s really stupid, or he’s done it on purpose. I mean come on, she and y/n look so similar.” Luke said, overly thrilled that he was considered cool enough to be part of their group activities fully.  

“Should I be flattered or worried?” y/n blinked at the couple, noting the familiar bikini Ari was wearing, “I wore that bikini when I was fifteen. He fumbled so badly when he saw it.” 

“Don’t blame him, angel. Had me gasping for air.” Trevor chuckled, y/n slapping his chest. 

“Yo,” Alex spoke up, the group turning to him, “I think Jack may be into y/n but just doesn’t know it.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, kid’s into Ari and all those other girls he talks about. Don’t give me false hope.” She scoffed, folding her arms. They all glanced back at the couple and then at each other. It wasn’t like she was hiding the fact she liked Jack, in fact, she didn’t have to because it had been obvious since they were kids. If anything, they were all rooting for them.  

“No, he has a point,” Quinn eventually piped up, pulling the boat to a stop and swivelling to face the back deck gang, “ever since you were fourteen, he’s been obsessed with you. Like all he would ever talk about. That kid would have never completed that project if you hadn’t been his partner and choked him.” 

“You choked Jack?!” Alex and Trevor’s jaws dropped in disbelief, Quinn, Luke and y/n throwing their heads back and laughing.  

“When do you think he’ll realise that y/n’s actually the love of his life and always has been, like girl’s willing to let him break her heart every year.” Luke jabbed, a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

“I have an idea,” Trevor smirked, arm falling over her shoulders and pulling her into his side, “you guys in?” 

* 

From the get-go, Ari knew she’d never be number one in Jack’s heart. She shared classes with the two since they were freshman, she wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen the way they looked at each other with hearts in their eyes, the way y/n shone like the sun around him. She always envied their friendship, so when Jack asked her out, she didn’t hesitate but the guilt that ate her took the pleasure from it all. It wasn’t fair in her romantic mind. But she did love Jack, he was just oblivious and if it meant Ari had to break her own heart, she was willing to do so for love. 

Ari poked her head out the patio doors, spotting y/n on the porch swing and smiling. She sat next to her timidly, mustering up the words while y/n stuck her nose into the novel she was reading.  

“Y/n? Do you mind if I join you?” Ari’s voice was sweet, quiet compared to the rest of the lake house group.  

“No, you’re okay. Something up?” Her eyes never left the pages, she wasn’t really reading them, just avoiding eye contact. 

“Well, um, is Jack always weirdly protective of his clothes? He’s never offered a hoodie or anything and I was worried it was me?” she asked, recognising the blue sweatshirt y/n wore, Jack’s blue USA Hockey sweatshirt. 

“I don’t think it’s you, he has this weird thing where he likes them to smell and fit a certain way. Or it was a gift.” 

“Weird guy. Does he also not vibe with pet names? I called him ‘babe’ and he screwed his face up! I thought I said something wrong!” Ari just needed to prove her theory. Theory that she was not the one he loved, but the one who just needed to fill the gap. 

“I’m not sure, actually,” y/n closed her book, looking out into the garden while she thought, “he’s not used to things like that, I guess. He might warm up.” 

“But you call him ‘pretty boy’ or, or ‘hotshot’ and he doesn’t seem to mind. Is there a difference?” Ari knew she was starting to slip, sounding more upset than she had meant to, more accusing and she knew y/n wasn’t a bear to poke. 

“I also call Trevor ‘sexy’ and ‘gorgeous’, Cole ‘cutie’. He’s your boyfriend, ask him. If it upsets you, you should tell him because he won't take a hint unless it's hockey, believe me.” She turned to face Ari, surprisingly calm, “Like this one time, we were at a party and this girl had just been dumped, and we kept nudging him to shut up and that it wasn’t the moment for jokes, but he didn’t get it. Literally had to slap my hand over his mouth for him to take the hint.” 

Ari smiled and nodded, thanking her and getting up to leave while y/n opened her book. Data collected and conclusions made. The ambush was odd, especially the questions asked but y/n was in no position to think too deeply about it. Ari and Jack’s relationship wasn’t her business anyway. 

* 

With the sky clear and weather warm, the golf course swarmed with country club members of all ages, kids learning from their parents to the retired living their best lives with a three o’clock beer.  

The usual suspects hung around their current hole, poking fun at Cole’s terrible shot. Y/n also wasn’t the greatest golfer, Trevor was teaching her that day how to play as they went along, claiming to be the best golfer of the group.  

She stood by the tee, correct club in hand with her feet shoulder-width apart. Trevor tried his best to explain what to do but the complex terms he used just made the whole thing more confusing. He stood behind her, arms around hers with her back to his chest, guiding her hands to the positioning on the handle. He walked her through the process, voice rumbling in her ears.  

“Relax, imagine I’m Jizzy.” He whispered, breath hot on her neck. 

“No, I might cum. Besides, he’s got Ari.” She was glad she could make crude jokes with people, and if anyone was going to find it funny, it would be Trevor. 

“Jack would have my head right now if he were here. No way would he enjoy watching this.” He muttered playfully. 

“Yeah, but he sucks and isn’t here, so less talking more teaching, Yappy.” She giggled. 

Jack’s phone flashed, the Snapchat notification that Luke had added to his story filling his screen. While Ari left for the bathroom, he unlocked his phone, desperately opening the story. Luke barely ever posted to his story; he knew they’d gone out but where was a mystery.  

“You’re fucking kidding me.” He grumbled, grip tightening on his phone upon seeing Trevor Zegras with his body wrapped around y/n’s teaching her how to play golf. That was supposed to be him. He was supposed to teach her golf so they could go out and do it together. Until then, he thought the only way to have your heart broken was by being dumped or rejected, but for the first time he understood how y/n must have felt all the times he made an empty promise. It shouldn’t have bothered him; it shouldn’t have made him seethe but there was only so much he could manage before he was going to snap. The more summers that passed, the closer she got to his friends and even closer to Trevor and she never pushed him away, like she was doing it on purpose.  

Then it clicked. They weren’t together, so she was allowed to do as she pleased. She wasn’t confined to a relationship like he was. When he was off the table, she’d retreat, let him go with a bittersweet smile, stay away from causing confusion, but when he was a single man again, she’d be there, smiling when he’d curl up in her arms like old times. Ari may have been right. He called her insecure when she’d raised the issue that she did not believe that Jack loved her the way he thought he did. They’d argued about it, about how y/n had clothing and pet name privileges over her, how she knew he was looking at her over dinner, fire pits, boat days, that he only talked about y/n and never her and the worst topic of all, how y/n was the only woman Jack would allow in his bed. To Ari, the signs were all there. Y/n was not just Jack’s best friend, he just didn’t know it. And it wasn’t y/n’s fault, she’d done nothing wrong. In that moment, Jack realised that if he didn’t wake up, he would lose the woman he loved the most.  

* 

Y/n slowly and softly placed her glass onto the draining board, trying her best to not make a noise because everything was louder at three in the morning for some reason. Three days had passed since golfing, since Ari went home, since the room arrangements changed again. Three days passed and Jack hadn’t made a peep to anyone. 

She sighed, stepping back and hoisting herself onto the island counter, watching the waves in the distance twinkle like a sheet of glitter under the moonlight, the memory of last summer fading back into existence when she’d been watching the moon and Jack snuck up on her. Nothing hurt more than watching yourself slowly drift apart from someone you’d spend every second with. She missed his laugh, the playfighting, when he’d fall asleep on her, pull her into his chest and hug her longer than friends should. She missed the way he’d kiss her forehead, curl up on her lap, his scent and as much as she hated to admit it, his attention, his wandering hands up and down her spine and hips, eyelashes fluttering against her neck and that one open mouthed, shamelessly lewd kiss when they were sixteen.  

“Hey, Sunshine,” his raspy voice echoed in the dark, the window just barely illuminating the room, “can’t sleep either?” 

She peered over her shoulder to the boy leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms folded over his bare chest and basketball shorts hanging off his hips. Even dishevelled he looked attractive. He pushed off the doorframe, ambling around the island until he faced her, leaning against the sink and blocking her view of the moon. Y/n shook her head at him, kicking her legs slightly just to occupy them from the suffocating gap between them, like a wedge had been jammed to keep them apart. 

“I’m guessing you miss Ari too much to sleep…” she mumbled, voice above a whisper but not loud enough to wake anyone.  

He hung his head before he responded, “I've been thinking about you a lot lately. About us,”  

“Me too, Jack. About if we’re still friends…” she wet her lips, “because you haven’t spoken to me in over a week, haven’t really spoken to me properly for the past couple of years actually. So, what’s up, hotshot? Where did I go wrong?” 

Jack let out a shaky breath and kicked the wedge that separated them away. Hands meeting the cold marble of the island counter and he stood between her legs, eyes coming directly in line with hers.  

“I was supposed to teach you how to play golf. It was supposed to be an us thing.” He kept his voice low as she watched his gaze skip between hers and her lips, his hands shifting closer to her bare thighs. “And instead, I found out, via Snap, that you found a new best friend. I’m okay with you and Trevor being friends, but any closer and that’s off the table.” 

“We’re just friends. You were busy and that was the only time slot open. What’s it to you?” She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows at him. She’d never seen him like that, his forearms tensed and poison dripping from his words, but she truly did not understand what the big deal was. If he could go off all merry with his girlfriend, why wasn’t she allowed to hang out with her friends? They were also being cast aside like she was, so it was logical for all of them to band together and enjoy their summer either way. Plus, they were eighteen, they were getting too old to hold grudges against people, throw tantrums about whose turn it was to play with who.  

Jack’s hands roamed along her thighs tenderly, hooking under her knees and opening her legs further apart, pussy throbbing at the sudden action. Excitement puddled in her stomach when he smoothly pulled her to the edge of the counter until they were close enough to hear their breathing, “I don't like sharing, especially not with hockey guys. You’re my person.” 

“And I always will be,” he’d always been clingy, the king of her personal space but this was a whole new ground he marched on, it was territorial with how firm his stare was, how tight his shoulders and jaw held. She could feel the bubbling heat radiating off his skin, a green-eyed demon flaunting around his shoulders. After Kenna, her envy died into acceptance, but he never accepted that one day she wouldn’t be just his anymore. Not because he had that toxic twang to him, he was just protective of the girl that put up with him happily, blended with his family well, picked him up when he was down, tamed him when he was wild, choked him humble when he was arrogant. He didn’t believe that she deserved any harm or heart break after making his life so much more euphoric, “Jack, are you…jealous?” 

“I dont know, why dont you go ask Trevor, you two seem close lately. Practically tangled in each other by the looks of the photo. Wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked too since you’ve been all over each other.” A vein pulsed in his neck sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. She shouldn’t have found it sexy, there wasn’t anything attractive about being accused but he looked so hot with how defined his biceps were, how his veins popped on his arms and hands. 

Her lips twisted into an amused smile and titter, “Oh my god you are! You’re being ridiculous.” 

He pushed away from the counter, taking a sharp breath and running his hands through his hair before turning back, hands slapping on the counter either side of her, “So you two did? Is that where the hickey came from? Did you go see him? Fuck my best friend because you weren’t getting attention?” 

She only grinned at him. Before summer, she and her friends took a weekend break to New York for Kylie’s birthday, indulging in cute cafes and activities but somehow, Rachel had managed to get them all invited to some random frat party where alcohol was obviously on the table out in the open. She didn’t remember much from the party, but she did remember hooking up with some guy and waking up in her B&B with a purple blotch on her neck. She’d managed to hide it from her parents, but she thought Jack too, but she should have known that nothing slipped past Jack and when he’d asked her about it, he pieced the worst case - and dramatic - scenario together: New York? Trevor was in New York. Girls trip? Weekend away? Funny business, because Trevor was obviously the only man in New York. 

“Oh jeez,” she rolled her eyes, “that really was a girl’s trip, Jack. You saw the photos.”   

“You’re avoiding the question, Sunshine. Work with me.” He still hadn’t raised his voice, whether because he was trying to keep quiet or because he’d never raise his voice at her didn’t matter. 

“Because you’re jealous, I can have sex with who I want, I’m not yours and I never was so why does it bother you so much?”  

He sighed in defeat, hanging his head and resting in on her shoulder while his hands locked on her hips. Y/n didn’t touch him, didn’t speak, let him control his hammering heartbeat and get himself thinking straight before he’d say something he’d regret. She wasn’t mad at him; she couldn’t be mad at him even after he’d accused her of sleeping with Trevor. It wasn’t that deep, he was just jealous for reasons she wouldn’t know until he took a breath, calmed and confessed.  

Jack went back and forth on what he would say. Worst case scenario was she never spoke to him again. Best case scenario was she reciprocated. His thumbs rubbed circles over her shorts unconsciously, as if seeking comfort by finding home on her hips. They’d always find their way to her hips, there was just something that took the weight off his shoulders and she never pushed him away.  

He looked up wearily, chest rising and falling and palm cupping her cheek. She melted into his touch, the beacon of hope that she wasn’t upset. That she still wanted him. Her lips still looked as soft as they always did, inviting and waiting to be blessed and bitten. Eyes waiting on him, half-lidded and searching for reply. He couldn’t be a coward forever, too many times they’d been interrupted and too many times he’d wished he’d just gone for it, followed his heart.  

With his hand tangling in her hair, he leant in, closing the distance between their pining selves, lips meeting for a bruising open-mouthed kiss. Y/n unfolded her arms, enlacing around his shoulders, pulling him in with a low moan emitting from the back of her throat when his tongue lapped hers the way it once did. He kissed her with a desperate yearning, slowly and sloppy, hand on her nape as lips connected and disconnected, tasting each other’s toothpaste with little mewls slipping through from the pleasure embracing them. 

They pulled back, panting but hands remaining latched onto each other, “I'm in love with you. That’s why it bothers me. And I think I’ve loved you since the day you punched me in the face. And I’ve wanted to kiss you again since we were sixteen.”

She smirked. That was so hot, so goddamn hot of him to do with impatient passion driving him into a confession. She wondered what else he would do with enough provoking, what other feelings would he give into, “That all you got? I bet Tre-” 

He kissed her roughly again, just as messy with twice as much appetite in the way his tongue danced with hers. Her hand slid to his hair, tugging and pulling a groan from him while his toyed with the hem of her shirt, his hand moving from her hip, gliding underneath the fabric and feeling up her waist and curve of her spine. They pulled away again, but he didn’t give himself much time to catch his breath before attaching his lips to her neck, leaving butterfly kisses down the column until she moaned in his ear. He nibbled at the spot at the base of her neck, biting and sucking on the skin, leaving a purple blotch in his wake. Y/n held his shoulder tight, continuing to play with his hair with a rousing desire coaxing her core and pussy, begging for attention as his body was just so close. Jack’s hand slipped from her hair to join the other under her shirt, palms groping her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers, with his lips assaulting her neck, nipping and suckling little red blossoms over the skin as if leaving his mark. Not that she minded, she finally got to be his girl, years of painfully watching from afar and hurting her own feelings rewarded with his tongue running over the spots where he sunk his teeth into her.  

“I wanna fuck you so good you won't remember his name.” He grumbled into her ear, planting a kiss underneath her earlobe and sending jolts through her veins. She let out a whimper, aching for friction between her legs as he kneaded her tits like dough, feeling the smirk on his lips whenever he could get her to submit to a whiny, pathetic noise.  

Letting go of his hair, her lips pulled into a devilish grin and fingers wrapping around his neck, pushing his head from her neck and squeezing at the sides. He huffed in surprise, cock twitching in his shorts and hands dropping from her chest to her hips again. He really hadn’t thought she’d be into anything like that, but he should have guessed since he caught a glimpse of Deja vu. It had been too long since they really talked, did he know anything about her anymore? Apparently not, but it wasn’t like he…disliked it.  

“Do it,” she loosened her grip with honey lacing her voice, sliding her hand to grip his shoulder, “do it, Jack. I’m on the pill. Show me who I belong to.”  

The fire lit inside him and without any ounce of hesitation, he was back to tasting her lips, fingers kneading her thighs and inching up underneath her shorts. He pulled them to one side, brushing his knuckle over her clothed clit, erection hardening with the way she mewled and ground her hips into his fingers. He toyed with the elastic of her underwear, pulling them to one side and ran his fingers through her folds, coating his fingers in her slick as they slipped through smooth. 

“This fucking wet? For me?” He whispered into her lips, middle and ring finger landing on her clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in firm circles as she clung to his shoulders, relaxing into his chest and panting in his ear. 

“Yes,” she sighed, “don’t stop, feels good.” 

 She left languid, messy kisses over his neck, biting when she’d pull a groan from him. No man had ever made her cunt ache to be filled like Jack could. The merciless cries to be filled and stretched out and it wasn’t like she hadn’t dreamt about it, thought about it when he’d parade around shirtless and adjusting his swim shorts. Dreams do come true though, her message fell loud and clear into his ears, and his fingers that toyed with her clit sank into her cunt, warm, spongy walls taking him perfectly. Her jaw slacked, a winded breath replacing an elongated moan that would’ve got them caught.  

“Mor…more,” she puffed, her nails digging into his shoulder muscles when his fingers plunged in and out faster, eyes rolling back when they curled into her. He bullied his digits at a fast but steady pace, knowing he’d hit her keen spot when her nails pierced into his skin and her hips rolled to meet his pace, arousal seeping from her.  

He threw his head back closing his eyes, he slipped in her better than he’d imagined, he could do it every day, all day if she’d let him. The sheer salacious yearning that washed over him not enough to tend his fantasies. He needed more, to be inside her, feel his cock be squeezed and hugged as if his life depended on it. Needed to hear his name leave her mouth when he fucked her. His y/n, his person. No, it wasn’t just fucking, he wanted to love her, let the world know who makes her feel good. 

“Fuck this.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out, taking them into his mouth and sucking them clean with low, erotic moans of satisfaction. She whined at the loss of pleasure, pouting and darting back to know why he suddenly stopped only to feel heat rush through her and pussy throb at the sight of Jack pulling his cock out his shorts. With a couple of blissful strokes and lustful gaze boring into her, he lined himself up, y/n placing her hands on his shoulders and giving him consent.  

It wasn’t her first-time having sex, but it already felt better than the last. He pushed himself in slowly, y/n nuzzling into his shoulder as he disappeared into her until bottoming out, gummy walls hugging him with a sensation resembling ecstasy fogging his mind. She broke into a smile, he felt so perfect, stretching and filling her in all the ways she’d hoped and wanted. His pace started gradual, rocking his hips, watching his cock sink in and out with shaky breaths, hands gripping the globes of her ass.  

His pace quickened, her whines muffled by his shoulder, the only sound that mattered to him, “You feel incredible, can’t help myself, y/n.” Rocking into rutting, his cheeks flushed red, throwing his head back and screwing his eyes shut as his craving tormented him as if he had committed the worst sins of all. 

“Fas-faster, Jack, fuck,” her legs wrapped around his waist, locking her heels together and inhaling his scent as he hit deeper angles. She struggled to keep her voice down, if only she could really let go and let him hear how much she enjoyed the wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out of her sopping folds. His hips thrusted harsh, each fast stroke dragging whimpers every time he hit her cervix, sweat forming on his brow and sticking their skins together.  

His fingers laced in her hair, yanking her face from his shoulder with a mewl and bearing her neck to the open, her eyes squinting closed as he admired his artwork cascading over her skin from earlier. Her cunt ached for him, relished in how he pounded in and out, in and out, squelching echoing into the kitchen. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to, y/n? I wanna hear you say it.” He rasped. 

“You,” she croaked, breasts pressed flush against his chest. She only wished she had taken the t-shirt off to properly feel his skin cling to her, “you, Jack! I've wanted to do this for so long,” 

Her words triggered an animalistic burst of energy, hips thrusting desperately. She’d wanted to feel him fuck her all that time and never said anything. He thought about how many nights she’d spent with her fingers inside herself, moaning his name and cumming at the idea of him. “Takin’ me so well. Made for me.” 

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, slightly louder than she had intended but Jack’s mouth reattached itself to her lips, his grip in her hair falling slack as he kissed her deeply.  

“Trevor couldn't make you feel like this, could he?” he growled, her pants hot on his cheeks as she batted her eyelashes at him, tits bouncing with every consuming buck into her. Her mouth opened to respond, no words falling out except small cries of elation and the pit of her stomach feeling a surge of heat spill into it, like a knot tightening on the verge of snapping. 

His hands massaged her ass roughly, all those days of watching it fit snug in the little bikinis and it was finally in his clasp. The days of containing himself when she’d wiggle on his lap and clueless to how painful his raging erection was. Letting every pornographic fantasy that kept him up at night out in erratic, mouth-watering thrusts on the kitchen island of all places.  

Y/n’s eyes snapped open, the warm and pleasant euphoria in her pussy suddenly cold and empty when Jack pulled out abruptly, pulling her off the counter all-together and harshly spinning her, back against his chest and voice husky next to her ear, “Bend over, sweetheart.” 

With a coy smile, she did as she was told, sticking her ass out into his crotch and tits chilly and squished against the marble. He smoothed his hands over the curves and with his finger pulling her shorts and underwear to the side as before, shoving his cock inside her harder and faster. 

“Oh shit-” she moaned in a hoarse breath, “Please fuck me, fast and hard. Make me cum, Jack! Wanna cum!” 

Biting his lip at her demands, lust glazed over his eyes, “Fuckin’ tease.” Wrapping one hand around her throat, he tugged her back flush to his chest, pelvis bulling into hers as a rapid and feral pace. The only sound bouncing off the kitchen walls being the melody of skin slapping and short, high-pitched whimpers. 

“That's my girl, make such pretty noises for me,” his stomach contorted, burned, he couldn’t let himself cum yet, she felt too good it couldn’t be over too soon. Fingers slipping down the front of her panties, he circled her swollen clit, her head falling back onto his shoulder as his grip around the sides tightened. Sensual, needy pleasure seduced her senses, choking on her saliva in spurts of whines. Pent up feelings and emotions encasing her into a paradise of raw, sloppy sex with her best friend. “Who do you belong to? Whose pretty pussy is this? Who treats you like the goddamn beauty you are?” 

“Pussy belongs to you, belongs to you Jack, you,” her head lulled against him, his grip ever so slightly loosening. The knot building began to falter, harder to hold and keep tight the more he rutted with a brutal stamina. “M’gonna cum, please let me cum.” 

He pulled his fingers from her clit, hand splaying over her stomach as his thrusts became sloppy, languid but deeper and exhilarating. His other hand dropped from her throat, sliding down her chest to grasp her tit as his hips burrowed into her from behind. He wasn’t far off, the pool of heat ready to overflow, pussy clenching around him tight. 

“Squeezin’ me so tight, Sunshine. So fuckin’ perfect,” a strangled moan escaped her lips, heat dripping from her cunt and down her thighs, muscles relaxing into Jack’s body as he held her like a ragdoll against him while he made his last few thrusts, chasing his own release with soft grunts. He shuddered, jaw slacking and flooding her with warmth.  

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He pressed gentle kisses to her jaw, a ring of thick and hot cum soaking his cock. The kitchen fell back into an eerie silence, just heavy breathing and the clock hands reminding them that everything was louder at the unholy hours of the morning and that they both should hope no one heard them, or at least say nothing if they did.  

He released her throat, arms winding around her midsection, nose nuzzling into the crook of her neck while his cock remained nestled comfortably in her. One of y/n’s hands lay over his on her stomach, the other reaching up feebly to pet his hair. They stood like that for a moment, catching breaths in a pleasant haze, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. As satisfying as the high was, as warm as his embrace was, she couldn’t let the thought go. They hadn’t found closure before they lunged for each other, did she let a taken man drive into her or not. The last thing she wanted was to be the other woman, it wasn’t fair on Ari. Sweet kisses littered her neck and up to her jaw, his lips laying the final on her temple before resting his cheek against her hairline. 

“What about Ari?” she whispered, staring out into the abyss of the house, “What are we supposed to tell her now…” 

“Nothing. S’just you ‘n me now…” a weight fell off his chest, finally saying it out loud, making sure it wasn’t a dream. The afternoon Ari left, she’d given him a poetic speech, a much needed one to drill it into his head that everyone was seeing what he wasn’t accepting or letting himself accept. Ari had grown up alongside them too, she’d seen their good days, their bad days, the days Jack pined over her, the days y/n pined over him. She told him to think about who he loved more and always had. Reminded him that love is a constant that sometimes falters, but always bounces back in the end. And that only person constant in his life was y/n. No matter what happened, she was always there, even if it hurt her watching Jack with someone else. And now, he got it. “I love you, a lot. Always have. Just not sure how you feel.” 

“You’re so stupid. You think I kissed you to make your ex jealous for shits and giggles? Let you spend hours rambling about how in love you were with those other girls because I didn’t value your happiness?” she gave a small, airy giggle, “Let you make empty promises that broke my heart repeatedly and still let you cry in my arms? Let you fuck me in your kitchen, and you don’t know if I love you? Jack Rowden Hughes, I fell in love with you the day you told me that your home is mine.”  

“Thank fucking God,” he breathed, craning his neck to capture her lips into a passionate and earnest kiss, no tongue, no teeth just souls connecting. They may have not pulled out and cleaned up yet, time was moving and getting closer to four thirty, but in their world, everything froze and felt as if the universe had fallen into place.  

He pulled away, forehead leaning into hers, “You’ll come watch me play, right? In the NHL?”

“I’ll come watch you fall.” She pulled him into another sincere kiss and for a moment, nothing seemed to matter anymore.

It was October when Jack made his NHL debut for the New Jersey Devils. She was there on draft day; she was there afterwards, and she planned to always be there. Y/n had made it to university for graphic design, coincidentally close to him which worked in their favour. He always joked about how even after she graduated, she could work for the Devils social team, and he’d get on his knees and beg if he had to.  

The crowds were always loud in the Prudential Center, a sea of red and black, chants and cheering with elation for another game. The team entered the ice for warmups, skating in laps, manoeuvring pucks with skilled hand work, and shooting practice before the game started. Y/n could have sat in the family room with the other wives and girlfriends, but when she’d mentioned her weekend plans to her university friends, they’d asked if they could tag along for the experience. So, there they were, screaming and waving at the players, offering trades for pucks and falling in love with athletes, into the realm of hockey men. Jack didn’t need to look hard; he could spot her for miles even in a crowd where everyone looked the same. After taking a couple shots at the net, he stopped in front of her and her squealing friends, tapping the top end of his stick at her and throwing a puck over the plexiglass. There really was no time like the present. All Jack’s nerves faded when she clasped the puck in her hands, looking back at him with a smile and a nod. It was just Jack and his girlfriend, y/n, now against the world.

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[catiuskaa]

reggaeton & champagne.

PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan

SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.

REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3

CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.

WC: 2.3k

A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)

[🔹☆💠☆🔹]

The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.

It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.

Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.

And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.

You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.

The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.

Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.

One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.

Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.

“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.

You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.

Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.

“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.

Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.

They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.

“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.

“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.

With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.

“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.

The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.

“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”

His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.

Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.

“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”

You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.

“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”

And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.

You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.

Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.

“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.

“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.

“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.

But then, you felt a hand on your waist.

“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.

His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.

The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.

You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.

He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.

Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.

He smiled, and you held back a frown.

“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”

…

yikes.

That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.

The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.

The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.

“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.

You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.

Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.

If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.

He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.

“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.

Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.

The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.

Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.

Huh?

“All those for you?”

Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.

He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.

And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.

So he helped you by slapping them off your body.

As ‘gently’ as he could.

“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.

Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.

“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”

Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.

“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”

Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.

One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.

“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.

“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”

Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.

“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.

Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.

“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”

Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.

As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.

Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.

“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.

With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.

“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.

“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.

“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.

“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.

Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.

“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.

They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.

There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.

“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.

“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.

You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.

Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.

“What do you want to eat, kitten?”

You snickered.

“I want to have ramen.”

~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)

[noyzinerd]

Sterek Rival Lawyers AU

It's A (Court) Date

Imagine, high-class, Ivy League, hot-shot, attorney Derek comes back from New York to the family firm to take over as partners with his sister after his parents decide to step down. He may not be on the level of his mother yet, but he's cut his teeth against Wall Street wolves and ruthless white-collar sharks. Derek's more than proved himself, so he just can't fathom these small criminal court cases his family is making him take "before he's truly ready" to be a part of the family business.

Enter in his first case. Right out the gate, the state assigned defense is, not only late to court, but also arrives in a flurry of limbs and papers, tripping all over himself, and profusely apologizing to the room as a whole. "Sorry! Sorry! Car trouble!"

The guy is out of breath, tie crooked and hair a mess. It makes Derek wrinkle his nose at the unprofessionalism and the blatant disrespect to everyone's valuable time.

The presiding judge, the Honorable Ms. Lydia Martin, only sighs a heavy sigh, as if this sight is nothing new, and says "Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you don't let it happen again."

Derek is honestly getting annoyed by how easy this is going to be. He could've been doing literally anything else right about now rather than being here going against a common rent-a-lawyer with some Podunk community-college degree. The opening statement for the defense is laughably inept. Full of nervous stuttering, backtracking, running tangents, and babbling. He's still apologizing, trying to assure the jury that he's just having an off-day today.

It's embarrassing to watch.

Nonetheless, Derek goes through the motions, practiced and poised. Examines all the evidence, presenting times and dates, prior arrest records, the works.

During this time, Mr. Stilinski is frantically (and VERY LOUDLY) flitting through a cartoonishly large stack of papers and whispering to his client. Derek has to fight to grit his teeth through his presentation.

Finally, it's time for Mr. Stilinski to cross-examine Derek's client and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of Derek's long, long spiral of madness for the rest of his career.

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

--

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

My first moodboard. Hope you enjoy. AU based on a discussion with @casually-eat-my-soul (I suggest checking out their version). This was kind of like a divergence from that (the brain juices just started flowing).

[aayakashii]

WARNING: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* THIS HAS VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL NSFT THEMES AND LANGUAGE! Very explicit femdom, Sub!Leo, Brat!Leo, dubcon, reader is afab, very little to no romance, just pure extreme horny. I cannot stress enough that THIS IS PORN. Do not engage if it makes you uncomfortable, please! <3

collared

"Hey." You entered Leo's room after knocking twice on the door, not bothering to wait for him to let you in.

"Ugh. What do you want?" He glared at you through his vanity mirror as you made your way towards his bed and sat on its edge. "Just because I use you on my social media doesn't mean we're actual friends, you know." Leo didn't turn around from his spot at his vanity, not even to look at you.

You sighed heavily, already expecting the verbal abuse, but you had to face it if you wanted to go through with your plan.

"I just wanted your opinion on something. It'll be quick." You said, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt right behind him, noticing how he made eye contact with you through the mirror right after you said those words.

"A favor, then? That'll cost you, honor roll." He applied a bit of his skin care oil while smirking, already enjoying the idea of getting you to follow one of his many whims.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not a big deal though? I just have this gift I want to give to a friend of mine. He kinda has a similar style as you, so I wanted to ask you to test it for me so I can see if it looks good."

"What friend is this?" He quickly said, closing the oil bottle with a sharp pop and spinning on his footstool to face you.

"What does it matter?" You quirked an eyebrow.

"It doesn't. I just wanna know."

"It's just a friend I made in Sinostra" you bounced your leg restlessly.

"A boyfriend?"

"No."

"A hookup?"

"No..."

"Oh my. Dont tell me he's an unrequited love. That's pathetic, you know."

"No! Leo! Look, will you help me or what?" You snap, your patience that was already spread thin seemed to be fading quicker and quicker, while your anxiety rose to unimaginable peaks.

"Hmmm..." he pretended to think, pouting with a finger over his lips "Okay, since I'm such a good guy. That WILL cost you even if it's an easy request, you know?."

You nod, rolling your eyes.

"Okay, gimme the gift, let me try it."

Your hands quickly shot to your loyal purse, fishing an intricately decorated collar. It had studs and chains all over its leather base, with one big hoop attached to the front piece of the collar

Leo whistled. 

"So you're saying he isn't anyone special, huh? Sounds like bullshit to me" He smirked, grabbing the collar from your hands.

You shrugged. "He likes this kind of stuff, what can I say?"

Leo hummed, opening the latch after turning back to face the mirror

"I'm kinda surprised you got the money to buy something like this though? You look like you have no money nor fashion sense, so that's interesting... Hm…” he hums, after securing the latch. “It looks good, but let's be fair: it's kinda easy for things to look good on me. Don't know if we can't say the same for your mysterious boyfriend."

Leo rambled after putting on the collar, failing to see how you got up and walked closer to him, your eyes darkening at the sight of the collar hanging on his neck.

You stood awkwardly behind him as he ran his fingers through his hair, admiring himself on the mirror, until he acknowledged your presence.

"What is it? Did you like it so much on me that you're regretting giving your horny gift to someone else, Honor Roll? Wouldn't blame you."

You licked your lips and gulped harshly, while he kept on admiring himself.

"Stay." You murmured quietly, but loud enough for Leo to hear.

As soon as the word left your lips, Leo's arms moved to his sides straight away. His body stuck in his seated position, almost unmoving, in the blink of an eye.

"H-huh...? What happened?" His eyes widened at the strange feeling of his body moving on its own accord. He locked eyes with you through the mirror again, seeing your pleasantly surprised expression. "Wait... what the fuck did you do, bitch?"

"Q-quiet." You said, a little louder this time.

Leo's mouth closed instantly, shutting him up.

"Haha... hahaha!! It really did work!" You laughed in disbelief, walking even closer to him once again, your gaze running through his body, checking thoroughly whether your plan had worked for real or not.

Leo only managed to follow you with his widened eyes as he stayed quiet and unmoving on his seat.

You sighed, satisfied with your work and shimmied yourself between him and his vanity mirror, sitting on top of his desk. Your feet rested right beside his thighs as you looked down at him.

"Ah Leo... I've been wanting to do this for a while, you know?" You murmured, pulling out a chain from your back pocket and leaning closer to his face. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and angry and wide eyes darting to your every movement.

You tugged on the hoop of the collar, snapping the chain on it with a satisfying click.

"You act so high and mighty, so proud of how badly you treat everyone around you... it's so fucking annoying. But you know that, don't you?"

You dragged a finger slowly on his cheek as you spoke.

"You think the whole world is supposed to answer to your whims when you don't give anything back to anyone. You treat people like trash even though your soul is the dirtiest of everyone around here, but… you also know that, don't you?"

You squeezed his cheeks with one hand, puckering his lips as he kept on breathing deeply and loudly.

"You know what I think?" you asked him, leaning towards his ears.

"I think a bad boy like you needs to be punished" you whispered, watching as goosebumps formed on his skin once you licked and bit his ear lobe, pulling his earring with your teeth a little too harshly.

All he could do was groan wordlessly.

"So, to do that, I managed to sneak away this collar for you. It's for anomalies, you know? To make them act like well behaved puppies. Everything that you're not." you leaned back, pleased to see the slightly red tint on his cheeks

"But I'm not a demon like you, obviously. I think you know quite well what kind of punishment I want to give you... but if you don't want it, I'll be happy to just make you obey me like a good, well behaved dog for a little while. Now that I got that collar on you, it's easy."

You pulled the chain towards you and hovered your face mere inches from his own, your lips barely brushing against his, but not quite kissing him.

"Speak."

As soon as you said the command, Leo puckered his lips, closing off the distance between you two, with his pierced tongue quickly pushing its way between your lips.

You smiled triumphantly, breaking the kiss before he could try to feel your tongue against his

"Ah-ah." you waved your finger in a negative motion. "Did I say you could do that?"

"You're a sick bitch." he breathed out, looking flustered.

"Oh my. Good boys don't say such bad things like that, Leo. I guess you do need some proper training." You said, pouting, feigning shock over his words.

"You're... you're sick." he repeated, shaking his head.

"Keep quiet or I'll silence you again." You said bluntly, pulling his collar tightly as you lifted your hips to pull down your panties.

Leo's eyes followed the way your underwear was haphazardly discarded on his bedroom's floor. Suddenly, however, his gaze snapped back to the way your skirt still hid your intimacy, as he licked his dried lips.

You were sick for sure, but since his heart kept beating a mile per hour and his stomach churned in awful anticipation, what did that make him, then?

He shook his head, fast.

"No way. No. That's disgusting. I won't fucking do that."

You cocked your head to the side, genuinely caught off guard.

"Disgusting?"

He avoided looking at you, as you raised an eyebrow.

"How many girlfriends and boyfriends have you had before, Leo?" you asked, mockery dripping from your tone "Are you telling me you never gave head to anyone just because you think it's disgusting?"

Leo flinched and kept avoiding your gaze, lips sealed as if you commanded him to be silent again.

"Oh dear. Are you telling me you never made any of your exes cum, Leo? Are you telling me you've never even satisfied someone?" You said, the smile sounding clear in your voice as he furrowed his brows deeply.

"Now THAT's pathetic. But it's okay, baby."

His eyes twitched at the petname.

"I'll make sure you'll eat me out properly" you tugged the chain to make him look at you. You opened your legs and lifted your skirt, allowing him to see the puffy lips of your pussy, and his eyes widened, as if he was seeing one for the first time in his life.

"You're so selfish you never even cared to please your exes... I feel so sorry for them. Do you even know what a clit is? Or do you just know about dicks since you have one between your legs?"

"Of course I know what a fucking clit is” he spat defensively and way too quickly, making you smile deviously.

"Then won't you be a good boy and suck mine?"

Leo's eyes were locked into the sight of your pussy in front of him, his ears burning red after hearing your bold command request.

You had read him so quickly, it was frustrating.

Indeed, he always avoided servicing his exes, way too focused on just achieving his own high.

Sex was nothing more than a way for him to get a bit of pleasure from time to time and nothing else. He never cared much about who allowed him to orgasm, he didn't care if it was a man or a woman, as long as he could get his own satisfaction quickly – and then it was back to his influencer grind. If his partner was left high and dry, it was none of his problem.

So, yes, as soon as he came, he would simply turn around and either leave to clean himself up, or nap. 

At that moment, however, he couldn't look away from the sight of your folds in front of him and the way you clenched around nothing, anticipating his ministrations.

He had nowhere to run, truly, but he wasn't fully convinced that he wanted to run – what with his heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears.

Leo approached you slowly, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth before he sunk into you, tentatively licking a long stripe on your pussy.

Your breath hitched on your throat and the little gasp you let out made him flinch and look up at you.

The taste was weirdly astringent and the smell was strong and musky, which didn't really appeal to him. But when he looked into your eyes, glazed with lust, he dived in deeper once again.

Leo explored you with his tongue, giving long kitten licks on your entrance, his piercing grazing against your most sensitive parts, making your legs spasm.

"A-ah... the piercing... fuck, it feels good..."

Much to his dismay, he felt his chest swell with pride at your praise.

"You... you are allowed to use your hands..." you said, half moaning, half murmuring.

At that, Leo felt himself gain control over his arms once again, which immediately moved to open up your folds with one hand, as he inserted one long finger inside you with the other.

While he kept your pussy spread open, his lips curled against your clit, sucking it harshly as his pierced tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, which elicited a loud moan from you – half pain, half mind-numbing pleasure.

"Ohhhh fuck! Slow down! You don't have to suck so harshly..."

His yellow eyes locked on your face and he began flicking his tongue against your clit instead, making sure to have his piercing graze against it.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck oh my fucking god  yes... Yes, keep doing that, that's perfect" you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling it tighter, feeling the dampness of sweat on his scalp.

"You can put one more finger now" you murmured, and he complied after a little pause, consciously thinking about which movements he had to make next.

"Look at you being a good boy and doing so well for me" you panted, smiling down at him. 

Leo despised the way your compliment went straight to his groin.

"Now curl your finger up like a hook." you commanded, legs and hips spasming once he managed to do as you said. 

With a loud moan, you pushed his head closer to you, grinding against his face while you rode the orgasm that had washed over your body with his ministrations.

Leo lifted his head up to look at you, lips glistening with your cum. You panted and smiled, satisfied, a sheen of sweat covering your body, making you shine under the warm light of his bedroom 

"See? Was that so bad?" you asked, once you managed to catch your breath.

Leo looked to the side, doing his best to look as annoyed as he could.

"It was disgusting, just as I thought it would be."

"Oh? Really?" you asked, sarcasm loud in your voice "Funny, because I could swear this thing here means you liked it a lot" you finished, pressing one of your feet against the bulge that had formed in his pants. He couldn't control the gasp that escaped his lips as you rubbed him, his hips bucking forward, unconsciously seeking the friction.

"Look at that, you're leaking… Now, now, no need to hump me so desperately” you shimmied your way out of your position, standing right beside Leo as he was still unable to move properly.

"Get up and go lay down on your bed."

The command resounded, loud and clear, and Leo couldn't keep himself from fulfilling it. Cursing under his breath, he clenched and unclenched his fists, the only thing he could do to protest.

He laid down, widened eyes following you as you stood beside him. 

"You don't need to look so scared. As I said, I'm not a monster. I'm not going to hurt you." you said, as you began fiddling with the buttons of his shirt and pants "I'm just going to show you how meanies like you should get punished."

Freeing him of all his clothes, you licked your lips, looking at his nude body splayed on the bed and vulnerable, all yours for the taking. Leo's cock stood half mast, the tip wet and an angry red, much to his chagrin.

Leo clicked his tongue, still doing his utmost to sound as repulsed as he could about the idea of you touching him.

He just didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.

"I didn't know you were such a perverted bitch." he spat out.

"Perverted?” You barked out a laugh “I guess I can't expect you to have explored anything if you didn't even eat out your exes." you ran a finger over his abdomen, ignoring the razor sharpness of his words.

"You know, if you were a good boy, things would be so different." you pouted dramatically, nails digging a bit deeper into his skin, making the muscles in his abdomen tense up "If you were a good boy, I'd be rewarding you right now. I'd take my sweet time kissing your body, I'd praise you and run my hands all over you and then I'd ride your cock until you came inside me."

You smiled as you saw him gulp.

"But you aren't a good boy, so you get none of that." you finish, flicking one of his pebbled nipples and making him gasp.

"I- I didn't ask for you to do anything.” he stuttered in spite of himself.

You tilted your head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"I know. Just like I didn't ask for you to call me useless and then use me as your fake girlfriend online, but you still did it anyway, right?" 

Leo stared at you, anger still flashing on his face.

"That's why I'm doing this.” You shrugged. “I think it's about time I get my little revenge, hm? And what better way than to have you moan like a whore for me" you winked, grabbing a bottle of lube from inside your purse.

You could hear his sharp intakes of breath, chest heaving up and down while you sat beside his hips. A thick glob of lube fell from the bottle and onto him and you smiled when he flinched against the sensation of you clumsily smearing his cock with the sticky liquid.

After you deemed it properly lubed, you circled your hands just almost near his tip and stopped. Leo groaned in anticipation.

“Go on” you said, a sickening sweet smile gracing your features at the sight of him already so flustered when you had barely touched him.

“W-what?” he breathed out.

“If you wanna feel good, you're gonna have to fuck my hand.”

Leo widened his eyes for a second and then shut them tightly, turning his head away. He hissed like an angry street cat being denied food.

“What, you don't want to feel good?” you tilted your head, mockery clear in your voice.

“This is so fucking embarrassing” he spat, a scowl distorting his pretty features.

“Well” you shrugged, but still kept your hand in place “If you don't want to feel good, it's okay.”

“Why don’t you just order me to do it then? You can make me do anything with this fucking collar”

“I'm not gonna do anything you don't actually want to do.”

He was silent for a second, before he scoffed, loud and sarcastic.

“Well, I didn't want to be in this situation.”

Your mouth opened into an ‘o’, like what he said was a groundbreaking revelation, and you nodded.

“Fair enough. Then we'll stop.” you retracted your hand and began moving away from him.

Leo's head snapped towards you and he wiggled his body as much as he could in protest.

“N-no!” he yelled, still squirming in place, unable to actually get up from the bed.

“Hm?”

Leo opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Was he really going to ask that perverted, gross NPC to keep going? Was it even worth it to think too much about it?

His mouth moved before his mind could come to a conclusion.

“Don't leave… Don't- don't stop.”

A wicked smile slowly spread across your features.

“Then ask for it” you said, matter of factly, drinking in the sight of his flustered face.

“Fuck you.”

You tutted, pouting.

“That's not asking.”

“Okay, goddamnit, fuck. Please put your fucking hand there again.” he growled, through gritted teeth.

“Hmmm… That doesn't sound super nice.” you slid your hand down his shaft once, tightly. Leo choked out a moan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Please. Please.” he murmured, voice frantic and desperate.

“Please what?” you asked, gently rubbing the pad of your index finger against his tip, smirking when his cock twitched.

“Please, let me fucking cum.” he finally begged through a whisper.

“See? Now that wasn't so hard, was it?” you put your hand back on its spot, and the sensation of your palm and fingers firmly encircling his head already made him gasp. “Now go on. Move your hips for me.”

Leo begrudgingly moved his hips upwards, moaning at the feeling of your hand squeezing his length.

“Is this good enough?” you asked, trying to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable despite it all.

Leo nodded frantically, hips beginning to move at a faster pace. His mouth parted open, short mewls spilling out as he fucked himself into your hand. He hated to admit that it felt like a perfect fit. 

Your mouth watered. Wasn't he such a pretty boy when he was cumbrained and dumb.

“Look at you, fucking yourself silly into my hand. What would your followers think of this if they saw you being a slut for me, hm?” you murmured, and his pace began to quicken after your words, the lewd sound of lube squelching between your fingers and his hard cock making him curl his toes.

You murmured encouragements as he kept on bucking his hips up, fully forgetting about any decorum while loud moans came out of his mouth and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

When you began to feel his dick twitch in your hand, however, you let go, a crazed smile on your lips as he kept rutting his hips upwards and onto nothing, chasing the release you deprived him of.

“Hu-huh? Whyyy…” He asked, pathetic and needy, with a few tears glistening at the corner of his eyes.

“Don't want you to cum on my hand.” 

He still looked out of it when you positioned yourself between his legs, not truly processing what you were planning on doing.

Your hands glided under his sweaty thighs and you pushed them towards him, giving you a better access to his leaking length.

When your tongue lolled out and you sucked his angry red tip, Leo's back arched completely out of the bed, his arms and legs spasming at the feeling of your warm mouth swallowing him deeper and deeper.

“N-no, that's, noooo…” he hiccuped, tears now falling freely down his cheeks, overwhelmed with the sensation.

You let him go with a lewd pop.

“Don't want it?” you asked, breathing heavily.

He had his eyes closed, brows scrunched upwards in a pained expression. Like the pleasure was too much for him to handle.

“I-it's disgusting… I'm gonna end up cumming…” he whined.

You arched an eyebrow.

“That's the whole point. I want you to cum while I suck you.”

He whimpered at your crass words.

“Do you want me to suck you or not?” you opened your mouth, letting your tongue hover next to his tip.

Leo fluttered his lashes, blinking away the tears, and arched his back, rutting his hips towards your lips, refusing to actually answer. 

When you wrapped your lips on his cock again, he let himself plop against the mattress, legs stretched and taut as a bow string.

Who would've thought Leo would become so whiny and needy, you thought, smirking to yourself.

You swirled your tongue around his angry red tip, feeling the salty taste of his precum before slurping it softly and letting it out with a pop, as if you were just sucking on a lollipop.

Leo squirmed against the bed, chasing your lips unconsciously with a needy whine. Every single nerve ending of his body was alight. Everywhere you touched seemed to frustratingly send him closer to an edge he never actually explored. 

You smiled against the feverish skin of his length and let him inside your mouth once again.

You bobbed your head slowly, up and down, cheeks hollowing as you sucked him and felt the hard throb of his heart in the veins of his cock – the satisfying thump thump thump of his painfully hard length pulsating inside your mouth.

One hand held his bucking hips down while the other fondled his balls, already heavy and tightening, begging for release.

“Mhmmm! I'm gonna- I'm gonna-” Leo mewled and gripped your hair, trying to push you away from his body. You grasped his wrists to keep him from effectively pushing you, finally letting his hips move freely.

He immediately moved his hips upwards, thrusting rapidly into your mouth and desperately chasing his orgasm, fully forgetting how he was trying to get you off of his cock just mere seconds ago.

His cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged – your moans of protest sending vibrations through his length. He rolled his eyes back and gave one final, stuttering thrust, spilling his cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

He groaned loudly, abs tensing as he saw explosions of white behind his eyelids, shaking from the shocks of his orgasm. You relaxed your throat, allowing his load to spill down the corners of your mouth and swallowing whatever managed to reach your throat.

Leo exhaled loudly, relaxing his body against the mattress.

You weren't done though.

Your lips wrapped once again around his reddened head and you gave him short, harsh sucks.

Leo gasped, stifling a scream, and his legs spasmed around you, kicking the bed as you overstimulated his half-mast cock.

You licked and swirled your tongue, focusing on the bruised tip, sucking him until he couldn't keep his loud sobs to himself. Tears ran down his cheeks again while he squirmed and flailed, mind turning into mush at the overstimulation.

He arched his back, whole body spasming while you coaxed him into another orgasm, massaging his balls and suckling on his dick without allowing him a moment to breathe.

When he finally came again, letting out a high pitched moan, he barely managed to burst out into your mouth – instead, he squeezed your head between his thighs and grasped your hair with both hands, abs contracting painfully.

Once you finally let him out of your mouth, Leo looked ruined. His ears were ringing and he could barely register his surroundings. He had no strength to his limbs, feeling like a melted puddle of himself, way too focused on his own pleasure to remember he was supposed to be angry at you – not thankful for the sweet torture you just had made him go through.

You got up, watching Leo's chest heave up and down and his sweaty skin glimmer against the low glow of his room with a maniacal smile.

“Felt good?” You asked, sitting down beside him and picking up your purse. Leo blinked slowly, eyelids heavy as his cock still twitched. He was still coming down from his high, sniffling and blinking his tears away, unable to answer you properly.

You smiled and grabbed a bottle of water. Putting a hand under his head, you tipped it up and placed the bottle against his chapped lips.

“Drink it. You don't want to dehydrate now.”

He groaned and opened his mouth, drinking in large gulps. After he finished, he eyed you with curiosity as you popped a few mints into your mouth.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I might or might not kiss you later. I don't think you wanna taste your own cum in case I do kiss you, do you?” 

Leo looked away, scrunching his eyebrows.

“N-no.”

“Yup.” You drank a few gulps of water, with the mints in your mouth. “Porn isn't very accurate to real life after all”

“I know that!” He spat, defensively.

You chuckled.

“I'm not saying you don't.” you threw the now empty bottle inside your purse, while fishing out two items and Leo’s heavy lidded eyes went wide as saucers.

“W-what is that?” he mumbled, watching you crawl close to him with two small hot pink cups in hand.

“Why am I not surprised that you don't know what these are?” you smirked.

“Can’t you just fucking tell me?” he barked, a crease appearing on his forehead.

“Oh, what a foul mouth.” You shook your head. “But okay, I’ll enlighten you.”

You leaned forward and squeezed the cups, placing their lids over his nipples. 

“These are suction cups.” you let go of the silicon and smiled as Leo gasped when the cups stood firm against his skin by sucking his nipples.

“W-why?” he whispered.

“They’ll make you more sensitive, baby” you explained, as you absentmindedly fondled his soft cock. “I’ll be able to suck on them, you’ll feel good and I’ll get you hard for me again, just the way I want you.”

He breathed deeply, feeling a strange and pulsating heat where the cups were placed.

Why the fuck was he even looking forward to that? Why the fuck was he so eager to get his cock stiff for you? Until when was he going to be able to pretend he wasn’t loving that sugar pain?

After a few moments, you noticed the strange, pained look on his face as his thoughts raced a million miles per hour.

“Is it hurting?”

“N-no…” he blinked, focusing on the sensations once again. “It just feels weird.”

“Good. Let's see how you look then.”

Leo groaned when you pulled the cups out with a pop, cheeks bright red as he watched you bite your bottom lip once you saw his pink, perked nipples.

“Aw, look how cute they look, all puffy!” you cooed before leaning down and licking one of them while your hand pinched the other.

“Haaah?!” he gasped, arching his back and leaning into your ministrations.

He had absolutely no idea he could feel good from something like that.

In the back of his mind, he knew he should be spewing venom, telling you that you were a disgusting pervert for doing those types of things to him, mocking your preferences and any previous partners you might have had before.

But at that moment, Leo could only feel the shock of pleasure go straight into his cock.

You suckled on his puffy, perked nipple while your hand rolled the other between your fingertips, switching sides and relishing on the vibrations of his chest as he groaned.

Leo's head shook from side to side, with his eyes shut – he didn't know what to do with himself as he felt aroused from having you pinch and pull and roll his nipples around your fingers. He didn't even know he could feel any pleasure from that.

“Look at that, guess you're coming to life again, huh?” you asked, and Leo opened his eyes, heavy lidded and watery, to see what you meant.

Between his legs, his cock was already chubbing up.

“A-ah…” he whimpered, rubbing his thighs together and shaking his head.

“Do you wanna stop?”

He snapped his eyes towards you, wide and desperate, as if the whole notion of stopping could absolutely break him.

“Okay, okay” you huffed out a laugh “Just checking.”

You grabbed your bag and crawled back towards his waist, sitting between his legs once again. Meanwhile, Leo's amber eyes followed your every movement, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his chapped lips in anticipation.

He had completely forgotten to pretend he hated it all.

“We're gonna use this now” you announced, holding out a fleshlight for him to see and pumping obscene amounts lube inside it.

Leo was quiet as he observed you, and the sudden silence weirded you out.

“What, don't tell me you don't know what a fleshlight is!” you smirked.

“Of course I know!” he yelled, cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment.

“Then what is it?” you raised an eyebrow while you wiggled in place, trying to find a comfortable position between his legs.

He opened his mouth, yet stayed quiet. You patiently waited for him to say whatever was on his mind.

“You… won't- um.” he cleared his throat. “You won't, uh. We won't- we won't have normal sex?” he murmured, avoiding your eyes.

Your face lit up, as you understood what he meant.

“Oh, you mean to ask if I'm gonna let your cock inside my pussy?” you said, enunciating the words clearly.

He flinched, but nodded.

“No." you said, matter-of-factly and blunt. "You don't deserve it. Maybe once you become a good boy.”

Leo was about to complain, when you placed the fleshlight against his dick and, with a swift movement, pushed it down, squeezing the gooey toy around his member.

“Wo-AH!” Leo moaned loudly, back arching and toes curling right beside you. “T-that's tight! That's too tight!” 

“Yeah?” you smiled “And that's all you're gonna get, baby. So think about how I'd be so much more tighter while I fuck you with this, how about that?”

You observed his reactions, almost drooling at the sight of Leo squirming and twitching while you jerked his cock with the toy.

The loud squelching sounds of his cock spreading the soft walls of the toy went straight to your pussy, and you could feel a wet puddle forming under you – but you had your mind set. Leo wasn't getting any rewards. You'd have to deal with yourself once you got back to your dorm.

Leo's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clenched his teeth, muffled mewls escaping his mouth as he met your movements with clumsy thrusts.

“Feels good?” you asked, voice loud through the plap plap plap of the fleshlight against his sweaty skin.

“Mmhhmm! So good! So good!” he answered, tongue lolling out as he couldn't control the high pitched ah! ah! ah! in time with your ministrations.

Suddenly, one of his hands found your wrists, and he grabbed it, nails digging on your skin.

“Let me- hnng- ah! let me be inside” he said, breathlessly, through his moans.

“Hm?” you eyed him, almost laughing as he whined when you stopped your movements.

“Let me be inside you.” he repeated, voice raspy and lips chapped. You rolled your eyes and began moving the toy again.

“You aren't giving any orders around here, baby.”

“Fuckkkkk” he gasped, throwing his head back and you bit your lips as you thought about how sensitive he was.

“Can I please- ma-may I please be inside you? Please? Please? Let my dick inside you?” he whined, glittering tears rolling down his cheeks as he closed his eyes to be able to beg and ignore the gaping wound in his pride.

“Awww” you cooed, rubbing salt onto the wound “Look at you, being so polite! But no, you can't.”

His eyes snapped open, wide.

“No, noooo, whyyyyy…” he groaned, still pounding the toy, sweaty skin sticking to the silicon that was overflowing with lube and precum.

“Because you don't deserve it, remember? I'm doing this to put you in your place, you should be plenty happy I even let you eat me out.”

He whimpered and mumbled incoherent words in protest, hips jutting upwards in an erratic pace.

“It's okay, you can spill everything here, baby. Look at that, you're all clumsy! You're about to cum, aren't you? Go ahead, fill this up.” you encouraged him, squeezing the fleshlight a bit tighter and torturing him with a faster pace.

“Ghhhnnnn-! Aahhh…” his abs went rigid as he curled into himself and spilled his cum into the toy with a pornographic moan, hips stuttering against your hands.

You rode him through his orgasm, the squelching sound louder as his cum dripped down his shaft and onto the mattress.

“That's right, you did great” you praised him while your movements slowed down until you stopped and watched him pant heavily, fully relaxed against the mattress.

Leo's eyes were heavy lidded and his breathing was beginning to get deeper, but you lightly tapped his cheek with your hands.

“I'm gonna clean these up in your bathroom.” you lifted the suction cups and the fleshlight and he blushed at the sight of his own cum. “Don't go to sleep. You need to clean up. But before that, take these.”

You handed him a candy bar and another water bottle before moving to pick up your panties, long forgotten at the corner of his bedroom.

“How did you fit so much stuff into that ugly bag?” he muttered, voice heavy with tiredness, while he opened the snack.

You raised an eyebrow at him, while you walked to his bathroom.

“You have to be prepared when you do this sort of thing” you answered, after you finished cleaning the toy and stuffed it inside your bag “Like I said… porn isn't accurate to real life.”

“I know that.” he said again, the bite in his words barely there this time around, and you laughed.

“Well. If you're a good boy from now on, maybe I can show you other stuff you need to be prepared for.” you winked, throwing the bag onto your shoulder.

Leo blinked slowly, digesting your words. And then a devilish smirk spread out on his features.

“Or I can still treat you the same and get punished like this again. I would mind at all. And I bet you wouldn't as well, perverted honor roll."

You rolled your eyes.

Leo would never learn.

Please reblog this if you liked it because it legit took me so long to write this, it was SO HARD and I need some words of affirmation fr thank you xox

[kayewrite]

WRONG IDEA RIGHT?!!

jeongin x reader!! prof jeongin x prof reader!! word count: 5k

genre: fluff, humor and..

summary: it started with a misunderstanding rumor, then a mess happened to professor yang's life.

an: I mean.. our maknae on top was always foine but seeing his instagram posts rn?? i cant help but to.. guys please read this!! this was too fun!!ps. im really sorry for being inactive! im not foine at all but im trying to be foine!!

Jeongin spotted a mosquito on your cheek as you were passionately explaining something. Without thinking, he raised his hand and—

“Pak!” The sound of the slap reverberated through the room as Jeongin’s palm connected with your face.

He blinked at his hand, confused. “Huh, it got away…” he muttered under his breath, completely ignoring the fact that you were now staring at him, clutching your stinging cheek in utter disbelief.

A thick, suffocating silence fell over the classroom. Every student had frozen mid-action, eyes wide, mouths open, not daring to breathe. Even Professor Yang, who had been explaining a diagram at the front, stood there with his pointer mid-air, looking as if someone had just dropped a bomb in the middle of his lecture.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, trying to piece together what just happened. Finally, through gritted teeth, you managed to stammer, "Why… did you slap me, Professor Y-Yang?"

A wave of shocked whispers exploded across the classroom.

“Oh my god, did Professor Yang just slap Professor (Y/N)?!”

“No way! That’s gonna be on the news for sure!”

“Do you think they’re secretly dating?!”

One girl gasped dramatically. “Did he dump her in front of everyone? OMG, is this a public breakup?”

Meanwhile, Jeongin stood there, his brain completely short-circuited. He had messed up. Badly.

Before he could open his mouth to explain, Principal Lee suddenly appeared, yanking Jeongin by the arm. "Professor Yang, we need to have a word. Now."

"W-Wait, I can explain—" Jeongin sputtered, but Principal Lee wasn’t having any of it and practically dragged him out of the room.

And just like that, you were left standing there, cheek still throbbing, while the rumor mill went into overdrive.

Later that evening, determined to clear the air, you stormed over to Jeongin’s house.

“JEONGIN!” you bellowed, bursting through his front door without even knocking. “Where are you?!”

A muffled, panicked voice came from somewhere in the house. “I-I’m not here!”

“You idiot, I can hear you!”

You found him crouched behind the sofa, wide-eyed and frantically searching for an escape. The moment he saw you, pure panic flashed across his face. Without missing a beat, he bolted for the window.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” you screamed, lunging at him. Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, you yanked him down before he could launch himself out the window like some kind of fugitive.

The next thing you knew, you were both on the floor, with you straddling him and furiously punching his chest. “HOW DARE YOU SLAP ME IN PUBLIC?!”

Jeongin held up his hands defensively. “There was a MOSQUITO on your face!” he yelped.

“A mosquito?! You expect me to believe that garbage?!”

“Yes! I swear! I saw it!” Jeongin insisted, trying to shield his head from your onslaught of punches. “I was trying to save you from getting bitten!”

You paused, fists mid-air, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And do you know what everyone’s saying now?!” you demanded.

Jeongin gulped, shaking his head.

“They think you dumped me in public and that I’m OBSESSED with you!”

Jeongin winced. “W-Wait… What? Obsessed?! How did that even—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the collar and shook him. “You RUINED my reputation!”

“I swear it was just a mosquito!” Jeongin whimpered.

Then, in a last-ditch effort to stop you, Jeongin did the most unexpected thing—he cupped your cheeks and kissed you, right there, on the lips.

The world came to a screeching halt.

Your fists dropped to your sides as your eyes widened. You blinked at him in shock, feeling your face heat up. Slowly, your hand came up to touch your lips. “O-Okay…” you stammered. “I-I believe you… about the mosquito, I guess.”

Jeongin let out a breath of relief, his face redder than a tomato. "Y-Yeah! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

But then, reality hit you both at the same time.

You squinted at him. “Wait. What about the kiss? What was that?”

Jeongin’s mind went into overdrive. “Uh… uh… it was, um… to make you stop hitting me?”

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice suddenly tender. “Well, I’ll also accept your confession.”

“Wait, what?” Jeongin froze. “C-Confession?!”

You smiled sweetly, batting your eyelashes. “You like me, don’t you?”

Jeongin’s soul left his body. “EH?!”

“Well, it’s about time! I like you too!” you announced triumphantly. “What took you so long to admit it, huh? You were probably hiding it because we’ve been friends for years, right?”

Jeongin’s jaw dropped. “Uh, I—”

You giggled, covering your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be shy, Jeongin! You can be my boyfriend now!”

Jeongin was in full panic mode. He didn’t like you like that! He had just kissed you out of desperation, not romance!

But now, standing in front of you, with your eyes sparkling and a grin on your face, he realized he was in way too deep to back out.

Well, guess I’m in this mess now, he thought miserably.

--

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you skipped down the halls of the university the next day, practically glowing. “Jeongin and I are dating!” you had blurted out to your colleagues the moment you walked in, unable to hold back the giddiness.

Word spread like wildfire. By lunchtime, practically every professor and student knew about your newfound “relationship” with Jeongin, and you were basking in all the attention. It wasn’t long before everyone started congratulating you—your students, your fellow professors, even Principal Lee.

Meanwhile, Jeongin? He was suffering.

“Congratulations, Professor Yang!” Professor Kim grinned, clapping Jeongin on the back so hard it almost knocked the air out of him. “It’s about time someone tied you down!”

“T-Thanks,” Jeongin managed to say, his smile so stiff you’d think it was glued on. His brain was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to survive the day without letting his entire soul implode from embarrassment.

“Ohhh, Professor Yang, I had no idea you were such a romantic!” cooed Professor Park, winking as she passed by. “First the slap, then the kiss! Very bold of you!”

Jeongin’s smile faltered as he tried to laugh it off. “Y-Yeah, bold… that’s me…”

You popped up beside him, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Jeongin! Can you believe it? Everyone’s so happy for us!”

Jeongin shot you a weak smile. “Yeah… ha… so happy.”

Principal Lee suddenly appeared out of nowhere, clapping Jeongin on the shoulder. “You sly dog! First you slap her in front of the whole class, and then this?! What a power move!”

Jeongin’s face was a shade of red not yet discovered by humans. “It’s not… I mean… well…”

You beamed at Principal Lee. “Right?! Isn’t he the sweetest? We’ve been neighbors for years, and I always knew there was something there!”

Jeongin felt his soul leave his body again as he gave Principal Lee yet another strained smile. “Yup… definitely… something…”

Principal Lee let out a hearty laugh. “You’ve made quite the impression, Professor Yang. Keep it up!”

As soon as the principal walked away, Jeongin turned to you, his face twisted in a mix of desperation and panic. “You… you told everyone?”

You nodded cheerfully. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I? This is the best thing that’s happened to me in ages!”

Jeongin wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. But before he could say anything, a group of students walked by, whispering loudly.

“Did you hear? Professor Yang kissed Professor (Y/N) after slapping her in front of the whole class!”

“Yeah, I heard! Talk about a whirlwind romance!”

“I bet they’ve been secretly dating for years!”

Jeongin clenched his fists, trying to maintain the fake smile plastered on his face. This was getting way out of hand. He hadn’t even processed what was happening himself, and now the whole university was acting like they’d been following his fake love life like it was the hottest new K-drama.

You, on the other hand, were in your element, waving at everyone and basking in the attention. “Come on, Jeongin!” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. “Let’s go to lunch together. It’s our first official lunch date as a couple!”

Jeongin followed along helplessly, his heart sinking further with every passing second. “Lunch… date… great…”

As you both made your way to the cafeteria, you were all smiles and sunshine, happily chatting about how perfect everything was. Meanwhile, Jeongin stared blankly ahead, his mind going a million miles a minute.

How am I going to survive this? he thought miserably, his fake smile twitching as another professor gave him a teasing thumbs-up.

--

One week into this "relationship," Jeongin was still struggling to survive. The whole thing had snowballed out of control. The once small, laughable rumor had now solidified into a full-blown campus-wide "fact." Teachers, staff, and students alike were fully convinced that he and you were happily dating.

You, on the other hand, were living your best life. Your joy at the situation was contagious. Every time someone asked about the relationship, you gave them an enthusiastic update.

“Oh yeah, Jeongin and I went out for dinner the other night,” you casually mentioned in the teacher’s lounge one morning, and the other teachers lit up.

“Where did you go?” Professor Park asked, leaning in with interest.

“Just this little Italian place downtown. Jeongin insisted on treating me,” you said, smiling like a lovesick puppy. Of course, none of it actually happened, but it didn’t matter. Your storytelling skills had everyone hanging on your every word.

Meanwhile, Jeongin, sitting quietly at the corner of the lounge, pretended to sip his coffee while his life slowly unraveled before his eyes.

“Oh my god, Jeongin is such a gentleman!” someone whispered loudly, and the rest of the teachers nodded in agreement.

Jeongin internally screamed. Gentleman? Me? I just wanted to correct one misunderstanding, and now I’m the romantic lead in a drama I didn’t sign up for!

At school, things were no better. Jeongin couldn’t walk down the hallway without a student giving him an admiring look or a cheeky thumbs-up. Every day felt like a test of his endurance.

“Professor Yang, I heard you and Professor (Y/N) are like, relationship goals,” one student said as Jeongin walked into class. He froze, mid-step.

“Uh... thanks?” he managed to choke out.

Another student chimed in, “Yeah, my girlfriend and I look up to you guys. You’re the perfect example of true love!”

Jeongin felt his soul leave his body. True love? Are you kidding me? He forced a smile and shuffled to his desk, all while internally begging for some cosmic intervention to end his suffering.

--

After weeks of the messed up situation (for jeongin)..

Jeongin stood at the front of the class, his usual calm, professional demeanor in place. He was explaining the day’s lesson on statistics, but something was off. One of the students kept shifting in their seat, glancing nervously between him and their textbook. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, they raised their hand.

“Professor Yang…” the student began, their voice wavering slightly.

Jeongin paused, turning his attention to the student. “Yes? Do you have a question about the lesson?”

The student fidgeted. “Not exactly. It’s just… um… I really like Professor (Y/N). Like, a lot.”

Jeongin blinked, completely thrown off. The class fell into a hush, eyes wide, as they eagerly awaited his reaction. He felt his heart race, but somehow managed to keep his expression neutral.

Clearing his throat, Jeongin forced a smile. “Well… if you want a girlfriend like Professor (Y/N), you should focus on your studies. Get good grades, graduate, and maybe one day, someone just as amazing will come into your life.”

The student’s face flushed as the class erupted into giggles, and Jeongin awkwardly scratched the back of his head. This day can’t get any weirder, he thought to himself.

Later that afternoon, Jeongin found himself sitting across from you in the faculty cafeteria, trying to shake off the awkwardness of that confession. You, as usual, were happily digging into your lunch, oblivious to the chaos he’d dealt with.

Just as Jeongin was about to take a bite of his sandwich, you suddenly said, “I think we should break up for a while.”

Jeongin froze mid-bite, his eyes widening as he looked at you in shock. “W-What?”

You sighed, setting down your fork. “It’s just that… I think our ‘relationship’ is causing more harm than good. A lot of my students are heartbroken, you know?”

Jeongin blinked, still not processing what you were saying. “Heartbroken?”

“Yeah,” you continued, shrugging casually. “They all have a crush on you. Some of them have even stopped coming to my classes. It’s kind of a problem.”

Jeongin was stunned, staring at you as if you’d just told him the sky was green. “Wait… you’re saying we should ‘break up’ because our students are heartbroken that we’re together?”

You nodded, completely serious. “Exactly. I’ll fix it, and once things settle down, we can get back together. Simple, right?”

For a moment, Jeongin didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, dumbfounded. But then, slowly, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. The absurdity of the situation was too much.

“Sure,” he said, trying to suppress the growing grin on his face. “I mean, yes. We should definitely, uh… fix our students first.”

You smiled back, completely missing the relief that was practically radiating off of Jeongin. “Great! Glad we’re on the same page.”

As you went back to eating your lunch, Jeongin sat there, still smiling to himself, feeling like he had just dodged the weirdest bullet of his life.

--

The news of your "breakup" spread faster than a wildfire during a heatwave. Within hours, whispers of your separation had reached every corner of the university. Students exchanged shocked glances, and staff members, who had once teased you both relentlessly, now approached with sympathetic smiles.

You sat in the faculty lounge, sipping on a cup of tea, when Professor Choi from the History department quietly slid into the seat next to you.

“I heard,” she said softly, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear about you and Jeongin. Breakups are never easy, especially when you still have to see each other every day.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah… it’s been rough," you muttered, trying to look appropriately heartbroken.

Meanwhile, Jeongin was getting his own dose of sympathy. He sat at his desk, furiously typing up notes, when Principal Lee casually strolled over and leaned against the doorway.

“Yang,” the principal said in a low, solemn voice, “I know it’s tough right now, but… if you need to take some time off to, you know, process everything, just say the word. We all understand.”

Jeongin looked up, his face blank. “Time off?”

Principal Lee nodded, crossing his arms. “After the breakup… it can’t be easy to work with someone you still have feelings for.”

Jeongin blinked, finally registering what was happening. Oh right, the breakup. They think I’m upset…

Realizing he had to play along, Jeongin sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… it’s been hard.”

The principal clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Yang. Don’t hesitate to ask for support if you need it.”

As soon as Principal Lee left, Jeongin leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. This is getting ridiculous, he thought, but couldn’t help smiling. The sympathy and comfort he was receiving was nice, though it felt incredibly unnecessary.

During lunch, the two of you crossed paths in the hallway. You caught each other’s eye, and despite everything, Jeongin had to stifle a laugh. You both knew how ridiculous the situation had become, but there was no turning back now.

“Got a lot of support?” you asked with a grin.

Jeongin nodded, smirking. “More than I can handle. They think I’m a broken man.”

You laughed. “And yet here you are, looking completely unbothered.”

Jeongin shrugged, unable to hide the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What can I say? I’m handling it really well.”

--

By the end of the week, the whole campus was buzzing with the “tragic” news of your breakup. You couldn’t walk down the hallway without someone giving you a sympathetic look or a pat on the shoulder, and Jeongin… well, he was practically swimming in support from all directions.

On Friday morning, as you arrived at your desk, you found a small gift bag with a note attached.

Stay strong, Professor (Y/N)! Heartbreak is tough, but you’re tougher! - Faculty Support Team

You shook your head, trying not to burst into laughter. Jeongin had just walked in, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with anyone for fear of being bombarded with more sympathetic words. But as fate would have it, Professor Lee from the Economics department appeared out of nowhere, placing a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder.

“Yang,” Professor Lee said in a voice heavy with emotion. “I just want to say… we’re all really proud of how strong you’ve been. You’ve handled this breakup with so much grace. It’s truly inspiring.”

Jeongin blinked, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Uh… thanks?”

“If you ever want to talk about it,” Professor Lee continued, “my door is always open. Sometimes, it helps to let it all out.”

Jeongin could barely suppress an eye roll but managed to keep his expression neutral. “I appreciate that.”

As soon as Professor Lee left, Jeongin plopped down in the chair next to yours, groaning. “I can’t take much more of this. It’s like everyone thinks I’m seconds away from a meltdown.”

You snorted. “They’re just being considerate. You are going through a ‘devastating’ breakup, remember?”

Jeongin sighed dramatically. “Yeah, but do they have to constantly remind me? I’ve been offered counseling, time off, and even baked goods—like, six times this week.”

You grinned. “That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jeongin shot you a playful glare. “Easy for you to say. You’re over here getting gift bags.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and for a moment, the whole ridiculous situation didn’t seem so bad. But then, as if the universe had a personal vendetta against Jeongin, Principal Lee strolled into the lounge, spotting you both at once.

“Ah, Professors!” Principal Lee said, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “It’s good to see you two… managing things so well.”

Jeongin internally groaned. Here we go again.

“I just wanted to say,” Principal Lee continued, his tone taking on a deep, meaningful note, “you’ve both handled this transition with such professionalism and maturity. I’m proud of how you’ve put your students first during this difficult time.”

You and Jeongin exchanged a glance, you gave a solemn nod. “Thank you, sir. We’re just trying to focus on what’s best for everyone.”

Principal Lee gave a final nod of approval before walking away, leaving the two of you.

Jeongin sighed deeply. “Professionalism. Maturity.”

You giggled. “Hey, at least no one’s asking if we’re getting back together yet.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes with a smile. “Give them time.”

--

After the news of your "breakup" spread, the campus vibe completely shifted. Students who once looked heartbroken at the sight of you and Jeongin together were now noticeably more cheerful. Some even started paying extra attention during Jeongin’s lectures, no longer distracted by their imaginary heartbreaks. The campus seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

In particular, a few students had grown oddly enthusiastic about your newfound "single" status.

One day, during lunch break, you left the faculty room to grab a coffee.

Across the room, Jeongin was pretending to focus on his papers, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw an entire thing unfold. A tall student, clearly nervous but determined, had crept into the faculty room, glanced around cautiously, and then swiftly placed the milk on your desk before practically running out.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. What the…?

As soon as the student was out of sight, curiosity got the better of him. He glanced around the room to make sure no one else was watching, then stood up and made his way over to your desk. He leaned down, inspecting the little pink carton like it was evidence in a crime scene.

Strawberry milk? Really?

Jeongin shook his head, slightly amused. He knew exactly what was happening—some student had a crush on you, and now that the breakup rumors were out there, they were shooting their shot.

Jeongin leaned against your desk, arms crossed, staring at the milk with an expression that could only be described as a mix of disbelief and mild irritation.

First they’re heartbroken, and now they’re trying to make a move? he thought, a small smirk playing on his lips. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or… annoyed.

Just then, you walked back into the room, catching sight of Jeongin standing near your desk with a carton of strawberry milk in his hand.

“Uh… what are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

Jeongin looked up, trying to act nonchalant as he pointed to the milk. “You’ve got an admirer, it seems.”

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

He handed you the milk, still smirking. “Found this on your desk. Some student dropped it off, probably hoping to win your heart with sweet drinks.”

You stared at the carton, then back at Jeongin, trying to process what he was saying. “A student… gave me strawberry milk?”

Jeongin nodded, leaning in slightly. “And not just any student. That tall one from your class—the one who always sits in the back and pretends he’s not staring at you the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Well, at least it’s not another breakup sympathy gift.”

Jeongin chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, but now you’ve got students lining up to be your rebound.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Oh, shut up.”

But as you sat down, opening the milk and taking a sip, Jeongin couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions. He didn’t like you romantically—that much he knew. But seeing other people making moves on you… it felt odd. Not bad exactly, just… odd.

Still, he shrugged it off, returning to his desk with a final glance at you sipping the strawberry milk.

Well, at least she seems to be enjoying it, he thought, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Over the next few days, you noticed more of those small gestures—the occasional extra pen left on your desk, little notes with doodles, and once, someone even left a small bouquet of sunflower. The attention from your students, though sweet, was starting to get a bit overwhelming. Meanwhile, Jeongin was secretly keeping track of every “gift” like a personal tally, finding it both amusing and somewhat annoying.

But today, Jeongin found himself in a particularly bad mood. He wouldn’t admit it, but every time he saw one of your students sneaking something onto your desk, it grated at him more than usual. And the last straw came when you received yet another carton of strawberry milk.

This time, Jeongin was teaching in the adjacent classroom when he noticed the same tall student from before standing outside the faculty room, peeking in to make sure no one saw him. The moment the coast was clear, the student dashed inside and left another carton on your desk, sneaking away as fast as he came.

Jeongin frowned. Again with the strawberry milk? Is this guy serious?

Later, as you entered the room after class, Jeongin was already standing there, staring at the carton as if it had personally offended him.

“Uh… are you collecting these now?” you teased, walking toward your desk.

Jeongin held up the milk with a bemused expression. “Don’t you think it’s weird that this guy keeps giving you strawberry milk? I mean, come on, he’s got no creativity.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re jealous of a carton of milk now?”

Jeongin blinked. “W-What? No! I just think it’s… repetitive,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

You laughed and took the milk from his hand, giving him a light-hearted smile. “I think it’s kind of sweet. You know, harmless.”

Jeongin snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Sweet, huh? Well, maybe he should try actually talking to you instead of leaving mystery drinks on your desk.”

You were about to respond when suddenly, the tall student walked past the door, clearly not expecting to see Jeongin still standing there. He froze, eyes wide as he saw Jeongin holding the milk, his face turning beet red.

“Oh—uh, hi, Professor Yang!” the student stammered, nervously fidgeting.

Jeongin’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained in place—though it definitely didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, it’s you again. What’s this, another gift for Professor (Y/N)? You know, if you want a girlfriend like her, you should focus on your studies first. Maybe graduate, too, before you start handing out milk.”

The student’s face turned even redder, and he gave a quick nod before practically running away.

You gave Jeongin a look. “Did you just… scare him off?”

Jeongin shrugged, feigning innocence. “I’m just encouraging academic focus. That’s my job.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, laughing softly as you sat down. “You’re impossible.”

--

One afternoon, as you stood outside the faculty room, you were approached by the father of one of your students. He looked a little troubled, so you smiled warmly and asked how you could help.

"Ah, Professor (Y/N), I just wanted to talk to you about my son's performance in class," the father started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "He's been struggling lately, and I think it's because of some issues at home…"

You listened attentively, nodding as he explained the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongin had just come out of his own classroom and saw you in conversation with the man. Out of habit, Jeongin walked over, stopping beside you. He crossed his arms and subtly observed the situation, his expression calm but his gaze sharp.

The conversation with the student's father went on for a few minutes, mostly focused on academics. But then, out of nowhere, the man smiled a little too warmly and said, "You know, Professor (Y/N), I really appreciate how much you care about the students. Maybe I could get your number so I can reach you if there’s anything else about my son I need to discuss?"

Before you could respond, Jeongin stepped forward. “Actually, I’m Professor Yang, her colleague,” he interjected smoothly, a polite but firm smile on his face. “You can contact me directly if there’s anything you need to discuss about your son’s progress. I’ll make sure the message reaches Professor (Y/N).”

The father looked a little taken aback by Jeongin’s sudden presence but nodded slowly, glancing between the two of you. “Oh, I see. Well, thank you, Professor Yang.” He accepted the number Jeongin offered, then awkwardly excused himself.

Once he was gone, you turned to Jeongin, your arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I did.”

You chuckled, nudging him lightly. “What, were you jealous of a parent now? I mean, come on, he was just asking for my number.”

Jeongin’s jaw clenched slightly, and you could see the faintest flush on his cheeks. “Jealous? No. I’m just being cautious. That guy… something felt off.”

You chuckled, giving him a light nudge. “Sure, sure. You’re totally not jealous.”

Jeongin stayed silent for a moment before turning to face you fully. His expression was serious now, his usual playfulness gone. “Look, I’m kind of tired of this… seeing things like that happening.”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jeongin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before blurting out, “You should just get back together with me already.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, completely caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

He looked at you, dead serious now. “Yeah. I’m tired of pretending. All this break-up stuff and guys sneaking around leaving you milk—it’s driving me crazy. So, let’s just stop playing games and get back together.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process his sudden confession. Then, a teasing grin spread across your face. “Wow, Jeongin… I didn’t know you were this in love with me. You’re really losing it, huh?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed and leaned in closer. “Alright, fine. We’ll get back together… but,” you paused for effect, “let’s keep it a secret relationship. You know, for the thrill of it.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused by the suggestion. “No.”

You blinked. “No? Why not?”

He crossed his arms, standing firm. “If we’re getting back together, I’m letting everyone know. I’m not hiding it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a mix of surprise and excitement. You raised an eyebrow. “Wow… you’re really serious.”

Jeongin nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. I am.”

News spread like wildfire—no, like how Lightning McQueen drives! In no time, whispers of “Professor Yang and (Y/N) are back together!” buzzed through the halls.

And this time, Jeongin wasn’t just accepting congratulations; he was practically beaming! With a newfound confidence, he grinned as faculty members and students approached him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on “landing the best professor in the university.”

“You’re a lucky guy, Professor!” one student chirped during class, his eyes wide with admiration. “I hope I can get a girlfriend like her someday!”

Jeongin smirked, leaning back in his chair. “If you want someone like me, you better ace my quizzes!” He paused, his smile growing mischievous. “Alright, everyone, grab a piece of paper! Surprise quiz time!”

Later, while you were teaching your class, a girl shyly raised her hand. “What’s it like being Jeongin’s girlfriend?!” She squealed, and the rest of the class leaned in, practically vibrating with excitement.

You couldn’t help but laugh, loving the attention. “Well, let me tell you, it’s like having a baby dinosaur in your life!” You grinned as they squealed, hanging on your every word. “He’s really sweet, but also super clumsy. When we were kids, he once tripped over his shoelaces while trying to impress me with a magic trick. Spoiler: the magic trick failed, but it was pretty funny.”

The students were wide-eyed, hanging on to your every word, as you shared more stories about Jeongin and his antics growing up. Laughter filled the room as you recounted tales of his childhood mishaps, and you could see how much they adored the idea of their professors being so relatable and real.

"Now can someone answer my question, just like his magic trick.. why rubbing a plastic pen through your hair pick up little bits of paper in science?" you smirked

After all the chaos of rumors, misunderstandings, and awkward moments, it felt good to share those light-hearted memories with them. You glanced over at Jeongin, who was peeking into your classroom with a playful grin, and your heart swelled with happiness.

As the day wound down, you couldn’t help but think: After all the mess and everything, life is good. You had your friends, your job, and most importantly, you had Jeongin—your partner in crime and your forever accomplice in laughter.

-----------------------------

an: thank you for reading. a heart, reblog, and comment is very much appreciated

(randomly mentioning some jeongin stans. thankyou)

masterlist

[blueberrylemontea-fanfic]

Just a little distraction

Pairing: JJ x Pope x fem!reader

Summary: You admit that you can't get into oral because you always overthink it. JJ suggests you might just need to be distracted.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, oral (male & female receiving), threesome

Based on Oral Exam by drcjsnider.

JJ put the joint between your parted lips.

"Beer me, Pope" he hooted, too loudly, at Pope who was sitting in the lounge chair next to the beer cooler on the porch of the Chateau.

Pope tossed both you and JJ a beer.

You had been lounging on the porch of the Chateau all morning, slowly getting stoned and slowly getting drunk. Once again, you guys had landed on your favourite topic of conversation: your sex lives. Or, lately, sadly, the lack thereof.

You took a long drag from the joint and sighed "God, I just really wanna get laid..."

Immediately you felt JJ scooch closer to you. "Y'know..."

"In your dreams, Maybank," you laughed.

"And it's not just getting laid, really, I mean that's the easy part..."

"Speak for yourself," Pope interrupted with a pained grin.

You and JJ giggled. "... it's finding a guy that can get me to cum that's harder."

Pope coughed out the smoke he was trying to inhale rolled over onto his stomach. JJ just grinned. "Oooh, we're getting to the good stuff now. All those mainlanders weren't up to the task, huh?"

"Not a single one of them."

"Wait so you never..." Pope trailed of at the end of his sentence.

"Not with anyone else present," you rolled your eyes.

"That's really hot," JJ smirked.

"And really sad," Pope added.

"Isn't it?" You sighed.

"So, like, none of these tools could get you to cum? Not even from oral?"

You grimaced "Nope. And I don't really like oral anyways."

"What?! Okay, how can you not like someone going down on you? It's like the best thing in the world?"

"Yeah, like you'd know." JJ chucked an empty beer can at Pope.

"I don't know. I just can't relax, y'know? I can't turn my brain off. I'm just constantly overthinking everything. I, like, need someone there to relax me or something."

"Looks like you were wrong JJ, now we're getting to the good stuff," Pope smirked.

You laughed. "I didn't mean it like that," you hit Pope on the arm playfully, "then again... It might not be the worst idea. If it means I finally get an orgasm, I'm all for it."

"Y'know..." JJ's fingers traced over your stomach. You tried to hide how his touch made your breath catch in your throat. "JJ..." You sighed. "I'm serious, Y/n. You not being able to enjoy someone going down on you is a travesty. It must be remedied at all costs, right Pope?"

"I hate to admit it, but JJ does have a point."

"Okay, so what exactly are you suggesting? You saying that you two could give me an orgasm?"

"I mean, we're two able and very willing young men, aren't we Pope? I think we're up to the task."

It was Pope's hand on your knee that did it.

You were crazy for even considering it, you knew that. But Pope's fingers softly grazing your knee while JJ's were still tracing circles on your stomach set your insides on fire. They'd finally made you an offer you couldn't refuse.

"Are you two sure about this?"

Their eyes widened briefly, surprised that you'd actually agree to this, then they both nodded faster than lightning.

You turned to JJ, slowly pulling him in by the collar of his shirt and pressing your lips against his. JJ's arm was firm against your back, holding you close as he kissed you back. He kissed you like he spent his whole life waiting to, deeply, passionately, all in.

You pulled away from JJ and took Pope's hand, letting him pull you up to your feet so your bodies were touching. Running your hand along the side of his face before finally, achingly slowly, you leaned in and let your lips fall against his. Pope kissed you like he'd spent his life dreaming about you, drawn out and featherlight, sending shivers down your spine.

"Let's go inside," you smiled as you peeled yourself off of Pope, taking both boys by the hand and guiding them into the Chateau. As soon as you were inside, JJ tugged you against him again, his mouth heavily on yours. You let go of Pope's hand to instinctively tangle your hands in JJ's hair. JJ tapped the back of your thighs and you hopped up into his arm, your legs wrapping around his waist.

While JJ was all over you, you noticed that Pope had drawn back a little, always more hesitant than his best friend. You tossed your hair over your shoulder and beckoned for Pope to come closer. "Don't be shy."

You held out your hand. Pope took it and let you guide him closer to you. You put his hand on your waist and then tapped the crook of your neck slightly. "I want you to touch me, Pope." JJ groaned at your words and reclaimed your mouth with his as Pope's lips slowly touched your neck.

You nodded your head at their movements, spurring them on. Pope's lips made their way along your neck, his chest pressed up against your back. He was sucking at the tender spot below your ear as his hands started roaming over your hips. JJ's fingers were trailing patterns up the back of your thigh, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. It all felt incredible.

You let out a soft, whimpering moan and felt both their mouths quirk up into a smirk against your skin. JJ's hand hesitated slightly. You pulled back from his kiss and whispered against his lips. "It's okay, JJ, you can touch me." His hands moved to cup your ass. JJ gave you a squeeze. "God, do you know how many times I've wanted to grab that great ass of yours?" He groaned.

You suddenly noticed that Pope's hand was stroking the side of your stomach, his hand travelling down until he reached the top of your shorts. "May I?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded vigorously and his hand dipped into your pants. Pope's fingers trailed down to your folds, stroking you lightly. You moaned loudly as he started rubbing slow circles on your clit.

"JJ?" His questioning baby blue eyes immediately met yours. You snapped the strap of your bikini top. "Untie this, will you?"

He looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he pulled the strings of your swimsuit and watched as it dropped to the floor. For a brief moment, both boys stood staring at you in awe.

"Christ, you're gorgeous, Y/n." JJ cursed as he kissed his way down your neck. You let your head fall back on Pope's shoulder, who captured your lips again in an instant. Every doubt you'd had, had already faded away into the background. Your two best friends were already making you feel better than anyone else ever had.

Slowly, JJ put you down on the couch. Both him and Pope started trailing kisses down your body, covering every inch of you. JJ slipped your shorts down your legs as they kissed down your inner thighs. Instinctively, you pushed your knees together, not used to this much exposure.

"You alright?" Two soft pairs of concerned eyes met yours. God, how you loved them...

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Just, feel a little exposed, that's all." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

JJ looked between himself and his friend. "Pope and I are a little behind in that department. Want us to catch up?"

You nodded gladly. "Yes, please."

You'd seen them in next to no clothes so often, and yet your breath hitched in your throat as they stripped down to their underwear. You didn't appreciate it often enough how fine these boys really were.

You reached out your hands and ran them down their torsos. When you reached their boxers you gave both bands a snap, a tentative question in your smile. True to character, JJ pushed his shorts down with an almost obnoxious speed, while Pope was a lot shyer about it. Not that he had any reason to.

"You guys are gorgeous, you know that, right?" The sight of them practically had you salivating. "Look who's talking," JJ chuckled. "Yeah, Y/n... We're nothing compared to you," Pope's hungry look made your stomach twist. "Strongly disagree," you smiled. "Now, will someone please touch me again?"

You did not have to ask twice.

JJ's hands tangled in your hair as he pressed his lips down on yours. Pope's eyes caught yours as his fingers traced over the top of your underwear.  You nodded and Pope slipped the fabric down your legs.

JJ's lips were once again making their way down your neck as Pope's were softly trailing up your thighs. You were all throaty moans as you squirmed underneath them. Pope's fingers found their way back to your clit, making you gasp.

You noticed that JJ had made his way down your body, now kneeling next to Pope. Wordlessly, Pope moved aside to let JJ take his place. Pope took over the assault on your neck and torso as JJ caught your eye, not unlike Pope had done mere minutes ago. Once again you nodded. JJ winked at you before he hooked your leg over his shoulder and flattened his tongue against your core.

Like always, your body tensed. This already felt so much better than it did with others, probably because you trusted JJ with your life, but even so, the sensation felt strange.

JJ's palms smoothed over your legs as he gave you some time to adjust to the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

"You sure you're good with this, Y/n? We can stop anytime you want to," he said when the tension didn't ease.

You shook your head quickly "I don't want you to stop."

JJ's smile could light up the entire cut. "Well, then you gotta relax, Y/n. Try not to be in your head so much. Don't focus on me or what I'm doing, just focus on Pope while I take care of you."

You nodded. Maybe he was right. You beckoned for Pope to come closer to you and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. You felt JJ's tongue on you again, but tried to focus on Pope fully. While he was great kisser, it wasn't enough to keep your attention away from JJ.

You pulled back from the kiss slowly. You reached out your hand and ran your fingers down his body, pausing at his upper thigh. "Can I?" Pope nodded eagerly. You wrapped your hand around his base, focusing on the movement of your hand as you stroked him. The small whimpers that Pope let out at your touch made you wanna clench your thighs together, hadn't it been for JJ's head in between them.

After some slow strokes, you licked your hand and started pumping him for real. You worked your hand over his length, suddenly aware of the sensation between your own legs, where JJ's tongue was expertly lapping away at you.

Involuntarily, your free hand tangled into the blonde's hair as a low moan escaped you.

The three of you looked at each other in pleasant surprise before JJ's smug smile disappeared between your legs again.

You genuinely felt good now, and it spurred you on. You wanted to make Pope feel just as good as JJ was making you feel.

You leant up on your elbow and slowly ran your tongue underneath Pope's base before sucking his length into your mouth. Pope moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut as  he desperately tried to keep his composure.

You let go of Pope with a pop. "Pope?" His eyes were one wide-eyed question. "Would you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Stop holding back." You gave him a quick kiss on his upper thigh before taking him back into your mouth.

Pope let out a surprised groan that made your chest flutter.

"That's it, Pope, I wanna hear you."

Pope smiled as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck. His thumb stroked your cheek as you let your hollowed out cheeks glide along Pope's length. You were so focused on Pope that you'd stopped worrying about JJ's tongue against you. His thumb circling your clit was hard to miss though. You let out a yelp as your back arched off the bed.

" 's that good?" JJ asked. You nodded furiously. JJ's touch made it increasingly harder for you to focus on Pope. It wasn't long before you had to replace your mouth with your hand. You did your best to keep stroking Pope as you threw your head back. One hand was still tugging on JJ's hair as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"I'm so close, JJ," you moaned out. Your hand movements were becoming more erratic, and eventually you let go of Pope entirely. You recognized the familiar coiling in your stomach, but it felt so different from when you were on your own.

"Fuck, JJ!" You screamed as you came, back arched off the bed, one hand tangled in JJ's hair, the other gripping Pope's hand. You rode out your orgasm on JJ's tongue, before falling back onto the bed.

"Holy shit," you panted. "That was..."

"The hottest thing to ever happen in the history of the universe?" JJ finished your sentence.

Pope nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

You pulled JJ in for a kiss. "Thanks, JJ."

"You are so, so welcome, sunshine," he smiled widely.

"And you..." You gave Pope another kiss, too. "Best distraction ever," you winked. "But, um, I don't think I'm done with you."

"Oh no, Y/n, you don't have to. This whole thing was about you. It's okay."

You pulled Pope down so he was sitting on the bed next to you. "As someone who knows all too well what it feels like when a sexual partner leaves you unsatisfied, I have absolutely no intention of being that person. So, unless you don't want me to, I'd love to finish what I've started."

Pope swallowed harshly before he nodded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "If you want to."

You sank down onto your knees, eyeing Pope as you did. "Trust me, Pope, I want to."

You sank your lips back down onto Pope. You bobbed your head, your hand wrapped around his base. You were giving him your full attention now, able to set a much faster pace than you did earlier.

"Shit, Y/n," Pope groaned as he tangled his hand in your hair. "That feels so good." You smiled around him.

When you heard another moan, you pulled off of Pope with a pop, working your hand down his length while you talked. "Pope?" You asked. "Is JJ jacking off behind you?"

Pope nodded.

"JJ?"

"Yeah, sunshine?" JJ's small voice sounded from behind Pope.

"Don't you dare finish yourself off."

"Jesus Christ," JJ groaned. "Don't go saying shit like that and expect me not to cum, that's no fair."

You chuckled. "Well, I'm just saying, JJ, if you don't want me to touch you, by all means, make yourself cum."

"Fuck, alright."

With that confirmation, you sank back down onto Pope. "Oh fuck, Y/n, please keep going. I'm so close." Pope's breathing was getting erratic. You picked up your pace until Pope's fingers tightened in your hair. "Fuck," Pope moaned out as he came.

Slowly, you moved your hand along him, coaxing him through his orgasm. You swallowed his load and then kitten licked his tip until he was completely fucked out.

"Holy shit, Y/n, that was fucking fantastic," Pope panted. Pope pulled you up onto the bed again and kissed you deeply.

"Wow," the word left you involuntarily.

"Yeah..." Pope smiled. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I think JJ's about to combust."

You chuckled. "How about we fix that, huh?" You rolled over on the bed so you were facing JJ. "You wanna come over here?"

He nodded eagerly as he scooted closer to you. You nestled yourself in between his legs. "Fuck, you're gorgeous... Can't wait to taste you."

JJ's head fell back onto the mattress. "You're trying to kill me, right, that's what's happening here? Oh, fuck!" You couldn't wait any longer, so you wrapped your tongue around JJ's head instead.

JJ sat up on his arms, taking in your every movement. You worked him slowly, teasing him until he was panting shallowly. You stopped rubbing his base with your hand, digging your fingers into his thighs as you took all of him.

Instantly, JJ's hand fisted your hair, his hips bucking into you.

You looked up at him through your lashes, devious smirk on your lips as your nose brushed against his stomach. You pulled back slightly.

"You want to fuck my face, don't you?" You smirked.

"I..." JJ seemed flustered, guilty almost.

"Go on then," you winked.

JJ's hips jutted into action, slowly, torn between keeping his composure and giving into his desire. His fingers were tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he bucked his hips up into you. He rolled his hips over and over again, but his pace was still so incredibly measured. You could see the tense muscles in his thighs.

You cast your eyes upwards, instantly being met with his. You smiled and gave him a reassuring nod, silently begging him to let himself go.

Finally, JJ seemed to flip a switch. He picked up his pace, bucking into you faster. You were soon salivating around him as he occupied your throat. He bobbed your head to match his pace, his thumb softly caressing your cheek.

After just a minute, JJ was letting out the most gorgeous little moans, a string of lewd, uninhibited, guttural sounds that he couldn't hold back if he tried. His hips started faltering, his breathing rapid and shallow.

"Fuck, Y/n, you feel so fucking good," JJ whined. " 'm so close..." His hips jerked desperately, chasing his high.

Suddenly, he held your head still, pushing his hips up as far as they would go. He came into your mouth, holding your gaze as he did.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He pulled you up after his orgasm had crashed through him, holding you close to him and kissing you so fondly your head spun. "That was fucking incredible. You're fucking incredible."

"I think we've proven today that we're all pretty damn incredible."

You reached out for Pope, pulling him down on the other side of you.

"I still can't believe you made me cum," you said after a while.

JJ smiled cockily. "I knew I would. Best skills on the cut."

God, he was gonna lord this over you forever...

"Well, I don't know, JJ, maybe it's just really not that hard when I've got someone else to occupy my mind with. Guess Pope's gotta try it next time, then we'll know for sure."

Pope's breath quickened in your ear. "Next time?"

You shrugged. "Figured we can't uncross this line, might as well take advantage. If you guys want to, that is," you added hastily.

The way Pope whispered 'of course' in your ear had you clenching your legs again, starting to imagine exactly what that next time might look like.

"We will forever be at your service, ma'am," JJ grinned.

"Ma'am, huh?" You repeated suggestively, "don't mind if I do..."

JJ's smile dropped into his throat. "Seriously?"

You looked between the two of them, hanging on your lips, practically salivating at the thought and you shook your head laughing.

"Jesus Christ, I'm kidding!"

Both boys instantly deflated.

"Tease," JJ hit you with a pillow.

You shrugged, a pensive look crossing your face. "Then again..."

[idlerin]

love sick — 10. ur like an exorthermic reaction

romance 101; ideal partner #14 — someone who would be down to go to trips or do some fun activities with me!

suna observed the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks. the lights blazing colors in mixtures of red, blue, and purple. each of the hues seemingly highlights your features most excruciatingly. he couldn’t place exactly why it was so unbearable. perhaps it was because it was putting you in a light he’s resisted seeing you in for the past few days.

so far, he was winning.

“they’re next,” you absentmindedly tug on the sleeves of his shirt, gaze still focused on the stage where you waited for semi to show up, “they’re really good!” you hype them up more, a buzz in the tone of your voice.

“do they play originals?” suna asks, an arm slung around your shoulder. the both of you chose to stand close to the walls because it was easier for suna to prop himself to a more comfortable position. there were plenty of people in the crowd which caused the two of you to press closer against each other—he asked in the car ride if you went to these gigs often and you said yes, he wondered how you stayed cooped up in places like these alone considering the prissy princess idea he’s had of you for a long while now—in the process, you casually resumed a couple-like position. it wasn’t like there was anyone here you needed to put up an act with now.

suna didn’t want to dig into that thought deeper.

“ei likes to mix it up sometimes. they don’t always perform here, specifically, of course. i’ve noticed that his band usually starts with a cover song and then an original. he’s a really good songwriter, he’s been writing songs since high school,” you began to ramble, occasionally looking up at suna pointedly as if emphasizing your words. you had to lean in a bit closer in case he couldn’t hear you well with the noise surrounding you both.

“so you’ve been present and supporting him since the very beginning?” suna urges you to continue with his reply, yet his eyes were surveying over the place, trying not to make you the center of his attention.

“well, duh! i’ve known him before i could even form proper sentences,” you shift and cross your arms over your chest. causing your hair to brush against suna’s collar, making him fail in not having you his focus. his thoughts now went to your perfume and how it would linger in his car later on.

“that long, huh. i haven’t been close to anyone for years close to that, the closest would probably be the miya twins,” suna starts to share about himself, to your surprise.

“i find it hard to keep long-lasting friendships,” you confess, putting more of your weight on suna unintentionally, jutting out your lip in a subtle pout, “i’m lucky i have ei and the others.”

suna found himself focusing on your lips, they were tinged with a darker shade you usually wore. it contrasted the appearance you usually put yourself in around campus. it suited you even though it wasn’t anything he was used to, that made it more appealing. it was distracting, to say the least.

why did he even agree to go here?

he had no reason to. he was tired. and yet he chose to be here. he only needed you for one reason and that was to stop getting bothered. it was going fine, if only it could be kept up for more weeks. you guys didn’t have to be friends the whole time. you guys didn’t even have to be amicable as long as you acted like it. but you preferred having a more familiar relationship if you were ‘acting’, was it under method acting? suna thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that his thoughts made that conclusion just to rationalize. this. this problem.

he thought for the whole duration of this agreement he’d only have one problem, turns out he has two.

the first one was figuring out a way to get a particularly persistent one off his back, and the other was you.

because he was attracted to you.

“are you listening?” he snaps out of his slight daze at the sound of your voice. semi’s band has been playing for a minute or two, suna doesn’t know the specifics since he was only guessing, but you were here making sure he was paying attention. here you were, wide-eyed and raising a hand to tap his cheek.

atsumu was right, you were cute.

“yeah,” suna answered absentmindedly.

you squinted your eyes at him, “listen more,” you put a hand up to your lips to ‘shush’ and went back to watching semi.

suna listens for once and he admits semi was good. he hasn’t interacted much with the guy but he seemed nice enough, he was never interested in his musical endeavors though. suna’s life revolved mostly around volleyball, after all.

a few more minutes pass before suna couldn’t take it anymore.

he was being tortured by the sight of you, it was that cursed moment he saw you in the lobby. suna was taken aback by the way you presented yourself in a different style than usual, he didn’t really think it would have this kind of effect on him.

fuck it.

suna leaned down to whisper in your ear, “hey, you said i can kiss you, right?”

it takes a second before you turn to him, your features scrunched in curiosity, not in any way judgemental or doubting anything, your immediate assumption was, “is anyone you know watching?”

“no,” suna says, eyes dropping down as he watches you wet your lips, “but can i?”

you contemplate it, and in the middle of doing so your surroundings suddenly turn into silence. suddenly, there was only you and him. like they were described in books or movies, everything else turned into background noise.

your ears were ringing and you were a little dazed as you carefully stood on your tiptoes, your mind battling whether this was really a good idea.

it shouldn’t matter, it meant nothing in the end.

you were still clutched against suna and before you started regretting anything, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

it was a solid five seconds, and you stepped back with your stomach turning in knots.

suna’s grip on your shoulder tightens, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

the both of you were silent as you continued to listen to semi’s music.

“i hope that made whoever you were trying to trick go away,” you suddenly say, looking up at him with a smile on your face.

suna was left dumbstruck, he clearly told you there wasn’t anyone he was trying to stray away from here… unless you were doing it on purpose, playing another act on purpose. suna observes your features once more, notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes, the blank determined look set in your gaze and deduces that he was spot on.

he splayed a small grin, deciding to play along, “yeah, thanks.”

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

kageyama has the healthiest screen time in the fg.

kiyoko has a whole list in her notes app abt reasons why she (personally) would never get pregnant.

suna is the type who needs time to warm up and joke around in texting.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — i listened to sabik by deny n arthur nery the whole time reading this so i suggest listening to that if you feel like you wanna reread this PLSSS. also END OF ACT 1 YAY! look at how self destructive these two are 💖. also will prolly close the taglist before i start posting act 2 wlxnsnx. omg my head is throbbing.

taglist is CLOSED ! + (1/3) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

[felixaha]

its 4am you should go to sleep omg😭😭 but

camboy reader x Choso

basically choso needs some relief so he scrolls through all the accounts of other streamers then bam he sees his neighbor and is like “😧” and now whenever he sees neighbor!reader he gets all heated. Thats all i got you can choose whether choso is just gonna just perv over reader or they sleep together finally

“how can i say no?”

HIIII omg i love this request sm you have no idea , TYSM FOR THIS YOURE MY SAVIOR MWA .

might make a part two who knows 🤭

𖦹₊ ⊹ choso x camboy!reader ,

masturbation , blowjob (r!giving)

choso whimpers bcz why not.. ,

praise kink , eating you out ,

reader rides a dildo while

imagining choso .

MDNI

fuck he was frustrated, he badly needed something or someone to help him get off but the accounts were barely enough for him.

suddenly his fingers paused, eyes landing on a similar figure.

holy shit is that.. you?

he swore his cock springed in his free hand, fingers immediately clicking your profile as his heart raced.

“fuck..” he’s never been this hard in less than a second.

————————

he closed the door behind him, putting his keys in his pockets before he lifted his head to find you.

“oh, hey choso!” you smiled, waving at him as his face burned red.

“oh- hey! um- uh..” he didnt even notice his body heating up, gulping as he pulled the collar of his shirt out of nervousness.

“you okay? youre sweating..” you were ‘oblivious’ of the tent in his pants, reaching over to place the back of your hand on his forehead.

his eyes scanned your body, heart racing as hunger shined in his eyes.. he wished he could pounce at you right now and fuck you.

“choso? hey, choso!” you wave your hand in front of him, causing him to snap out as he bluttered.

“you look handsome t-today.” he blushed, blinking as he realized what he said. “i mean i look handsome today! everyday!”

he boosted his ego, hiding his obvious desire for you. cute.

————————

he was in his room, hand stroking his cock as he groaned, his head full of imaginations.

“fuck.. ngh- Mnn..” his eyes was closed, jerking off to the sound of your moans as he imagined you sucking him off.

oh how your pretty lips would feel around his cock, sucking him so eagerly like a slut as he grabs your hair and shoves you down until you can feel his tip in the back of his throat.

how he imagined you’d look if he pounded into you, hands gripping your hips like his life depended on it while abusing your prostate, babbling about how his big cock fucks you soo good.

“s-shit— ah..!” he frowned, letting out a small whimper before cumming in his hand, panting heavily as he looked at the screen.

it revealed you, riding the dildo as he imagined it was him instead, how he wished he would mark you up, fuck you in front of the camera..

he couldnt handle it anymore.

————————

he walked past your apartment, looking at the door as he heard sounds. huh.. was that- a guy?

his eyes burned with jealousy at the thought of someone else fucking you, growling as he placed a hand on the doorknob.

..it was unlocked. how stupid of you.

he opened the door, the sounds of moaning and creaking heard from your room as he slowly walked inside.

‘ill show you who’s better.’

he carefully opened the door for you not to notice, revealing you and.. a dildo?

“c-choso—! mnn..!! ngh fuwAh~!” you moan out, desperate for something, anything to please you.

fuck the dildo was barely enough to hit your prostate, head full of images of choso fucking you so good.

“huh—?!” you finally felt eyes on you, looking back as you spot a figure you wanted to see so badly.

“you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” choso grinned, closing the door behind you and turning on the lights to see more of your body.

“ive been waiting for this.. for so long.” he walked closer to you, footsteps heavy as his hands began to slowly remove his own clothes.

“you gonna be a good boy for me? yeah?” he purred, licking his lips as his hand stroked your hair, your heart racing.

“n-ngh.. please, choso..” you whisper, growing even more needy as you felt a finger tap your lips.

you obediently open your mouth, letting choso slip his fingers in. you suck them, licking and sucking while glancing up at his sharp eyes look down at you with lust.

“fuck.. cant wait to have your lips around my cock.” he whispers, removing his pants which revealed his boxers, your heart racing at the thought of sucking him off.

“be a good boy, baby. please me.” you eagerly remove his boxers, eyes sparkling at the sight of his hard cock standing proudly in his stomach. you knew he was big.. but not THAT big.

you werent complaining though, licking your lips as you start licking his shaft and tip, getting it ready for your pretty little mouth.

“ah.. youre really good with you- ahn.. mouth huh? practiced?” he teased, groaning at the feeling before shoving his cock inside your mouth, causing to you gag.

“mgg—!! Mck Mgg—?!” your eyes widened from the unexpected situation but quickly adjusted, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up to see him satisfied.

“ah— thats it, h-haa.. fuck fuck shit—“ he whimpered, the sound going straight to your cock as it twitched and leaked precum.

“keep going, ngh- m-mnn..” his head hang back, guiding your movements. he was so close.

his hand trembled, pushing you even more before cumming inside your mouth, making you gag and cough.

“haa.. ah— hahah..” he sighs, looking down at you with a smile, cooing at the sight of you swallowing it.

“good boy.” he suddenly pushed you on top of the bed, causing you to yelp and squirm around.

“c-choso pleasee..” you plead, not knowing what you were begging for but it seemed like he knew what it was.

“you’ll get my cock soon, you’ve been bad hm? teasing me with that ass and bending over whenever i see you.” his hand groped your ass before spanking it, causing you to cry out.

“you think i wouldnt notice? hm? fucking slut.” he knelt down in front of you, watching your eyes widen when you realized he noticed everything.

“oh, pretty, you're so needy,” he whispered in a husky voice, his warm breath teasing against your skin.

He spread your legs wider, exposing your puckered entrance. choso’s tongue traced slow circles around the rim, teasing and exploring, before delving inside.

He savored the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at the sensitive flesh.

he sucked and licked, alternating between gentle licks and more forceful thrusts of his tongue.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he continued to devour your poor hole with fervor.

“ungh—?! ah—! choso Oh fuck ah—!” your back arched, moaning at the warm feeling.

his hands gripped on your thighs, lifting your legs up effortlessly as he continued to devour you.

“you like that baby? fuck—“ he groaned, his cock coming back to life as it twitched.

“choso ngh..!! s’good im gon-“ you cry out, legs trembling as your cock twitched again, fuck his tongue was so good.

“please- im gonna—!!” your cock spurted out cum in your stomach and some landing on your chin, panting as he laughed softly.

“such a cutie..” he praised, kissing your inner thighs before laying you down again.

“you can handle my cock, right?” he knely between your legs, cock brushing against your entrance as he smirked.

..this is gonna take a while.

[bekolxeram]

Idea/prompt by @jackmichaela, from this post. This is maybe not exactly what you're asking for, but I'm not good at rewriting scenes. I'm only good at filling in blanks so... I hope you like it.

Tommy usually hates hospital visits. They’re either heart-wrenching or tedious, no in between.

This time, it’s different. Since Hen delivered good news about Denny on the group chat, everyone seems so much more at ease: Evan is not scratching his face anymore, Eddie paces down his mission to destroy the whole bowl of Halloween candies, and sergeant Grant is talking to some teenagers at the reception desk. Tommy picks up a magazine next to him, USA Today, and starts flipping through it. Though he fails to focus on the celebrity interviews or the healthy diet tips in front of him, he is simply basking in the warm familial atmosphere around him.

Then everyone’s phone dings all at once again.

He looks up to find Eddie, struggling to contain his giggle.

“What’s happening this time?” Tommy asks. He scans around and see the rest of the 118 holding in a laugh, just like Eddie. They seem to be watching something on their phone with earbuds in, a smart and considerable choice in a hospital lobby, but Tommy has no clue about the origin of their amusement.

“Oh… oh, it’s nothing. Just a funny cat video.” Evan interjects, face turning red.

“Evan?” Tommy suspects.

“You can take mine. I was there anyway, I’ve seen it all.” Eddie hands Tommy his phone, with a devilish smirk on his face. Evan shoots him a death glare in return.

On Eddie’s phone screen, Tommy sees two clips sent to the 118 group chat, both of them prominently feature Evan’s face in the thumbnail.

“Please don’t do this. I was high on medications.” Evan pleads.

“It’s okay. I swear I won’t hold your intoxicated speeches against you. I just want to be part of the gang this time.” Tommy smiles softly at his boyfriend, then kisses him on a relatively unaffected patch of skin on his cheek.

Tommy presses play.

The first clip is a shaky video of Evan in an ambulance.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” Eddie asks in the background.

“Muu-- better.” Evan slurs. “Uh, let me tell you a secret… I have a crush on someone….”

“Oh, tell me about it.” Eddie says jovially.

“He uh… tall, and hot, and big…” Evan sighs dreamily. “He’s strong, he used to be in the Army.” He points a finger at the camera.

“Well, I’m flattered, but I don’t really swing that w…”

“No! Ewww! You’re like a brother to me.”

“Ew? That’s a little harsh. I mean, I’m not that bad looking, right?”

“Naaaaaaaa? You’re attractive too? You’re just not the man of my dream.”

“And… who’s that guy exactly?” Eddie asks with a guiding question?

“It’s Tah – Tah – ”

“Tah – ?”

“Tarzan!” Evan exclaims. “He’s got big hands, big biceps the size of my head, a big heart, and… those V-shaped lines leading from his super cut abs to his giant d…” Evan is almost drooling.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough for me.” Eddie stops him before he can get too explicit with his ode.

“You’re homophobic!”

“Wait, what? You said it, I’m your brother. I just don’t want to know too much about my brother’s sex life.”

“I just spent too much time not living my life to its fullest, because of ignorant people.” Evan laments.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know how hard it was for y…”

“Meeeeeeeeee! I was the ignorant people… I didn’t realize how hot men were… I didn’t know how much I wanted to suck Tah...” Evan drags out his vowels, while trying to point at something in the air with his hands.

The video suddenly turns into a blur. “Alright, stop moving before you hurt yourself more.” Then it ends abruptly.

“Tarzan, huh?” Tommy turns to look at Evan. “Is that what you think of me?” Evan’s boils are as red as tomatoes by now.

“Fine! You’ve all had your fun. Now can you spare me from further embarrassment?” Evan requests, trying to hide his blushing cheeks under the collar of his jacket.

“You know very well that as a firefighter,” Chimney cuts in, “drugged up ramblings are required to be public knowledge by law. For transparency’s sake and as entertainment for other first responders,” He laughs, gesturing for Tommy to play the next clip.

The second clip starts with Evan in the hospital room.

“Tell me more about your crush, Tarzan.” Eddie demands, again, in the background.

“What? Who’s Tarzan? I said Tommy.” Evan replies, with much less slurring in his speech this time.

Eddie seems to have clocked the sedation weaning off, “Um… You’re back with us, Buck? How’s the pain? Do you need me to call the nurse…”

“What? Are you out of your mind? It’s Tommy! Did Chili Oils wipe your memories too?” Evan furrows his brows, with a deeply confused expression. “Tommy! My husband!”

“Umm… when did you get married?” Eddie asks, just as confused.

“At Maddie’s wedding. No! Wait! We weren’t married yet. I only thought about it back then! When he came to me still in his turnouts and soot all over his face I just…” Evan says with an enamored smile. “Wait, where am I? Am I in the hospital? Why am I here?”

“I’m just gonna call the nurse…”

“I’m getting married here! Like Chimney! Eddie, you got me into some bachelor party shenanigans and I end up having to marry the love of my life here!”

“I didn’t…”

“Do I look good? No, wait, I’m naked! I need a suit!” Evan pats all over his own body with both hands.

“Stop! Don’t move your bad arm!” Eddie tries stopping him. Then the clip starts getting blurry again.

“I’m marrying Tommy with my birthday suit! Like the ancient Greek! Do I look good, Eddie? Are my pecs popping under this cover?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, now stop flailing around.” Eddie says before the video ends.

Evan puts his face into his hands, flustered and embarrassed. “You’re happy now?”

“Of course I am. That’s payback for making me listen to your graphic description of your love life under sedation.” Eddie frowns.

“Well, I think that’s very cute.” Tommy interrupts. “We’re in no hurry to get married but… I appreciate you blurting out your attraction to me, unlike our first date…”

“Shut up!” Evan hides his head on Tommy’s shoulder to avoid the inevitable teasing.

“Make me.” Tommy responds.

Evan simply looks his boyfriend deep in the eyes and kisses him, softly but deeply.

“Hi, thanks for being here. Denny’s awake, you can go see him now if you want to.” Hen comes out to update the 118 family. “Especially you, Tommy. The first thing Denny asked was for the cool pilot who’s good at painting to draw the most badass helicopter on his cast.” Hen asks Tommy, with the exhaustion and relief of a previously worrying mother in her eyes.

“Of course.” Tommy replies.

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[inumakis-boo]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ur text (inumaki toge) ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

synopsis ␥ you give toge inumaki your phone number, and you become addicted to your phone, and him (for all good reasons). major fluff + friends ↝ lovers.

version one out of three. Enjoy!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

When you first started texting toge inumaki, if you were totally honest, you werent entirely sure how it was going to go.

You had only caught the subtle hints of his personality during the rare times you saw him in person- and obviously, it was through tone and face expression, becaude most other ways well were.. not optional.

So.. when you finally got the courage to write down your number on a slip of a yellow post-it note, you didn't know exactly what to expect. Just because you thought he might be a cool guy, doesn't mean he might feel the same about you. He may be cool only around people he is used to training with, or is in the same field-level at him.

But his eyes grazed over the neat handwriting (you mustve written the same note about six different times before handing it over), and his looked back at you with smiling eyes, and a thumbs up.

you tried not to wait up all night for the text- why were you so nervous? it was just a phone number, you had given it to everyone basically on campus. he was just the last one.. because you were too nervous to actually give it over.

the phone had dinged you awake from an after school nap, and you groggily picked it up, expecting nothing more than the student group-chat aruging again, but found an unsaved number with nothing more than-

UNSAVED NUMBER: it's inumaki, you gave me ur phone number the other day

UNSAVED NUMBER: idk if you remember haha srry if this is bothering u but i didnt see u at dinner, did u eat?

you try your best to blink out of the sleepiness from your eyes, trying to gauge what you wanted to say.

YOU: hi, and no i didnt forget 🤙🏻

YOU: no i was sleeping, i mustve missed it oops

He had read it almost immediately, which was.. honestly refreshing.

UNSAVED NUMBER: we thought so, so i hope you enjoy whats outside ur door

What? Outside the door? You climbed out of bed, and slowly creeped the door open-

Nobody was out here? Was someone supposed to be coming?

You look down the hall both ways before looking down. A small bag, tied closed, sitting perfectly infront of your door. When you pick it up, the bag is still warm, so it must not have been there for too long.

When you return to your phone, you see even more messages.

UNSAVED NUMBER: everyone thought it was a good idea so you dont miss dinner cause we be doing too much shit to miss out on food

He was right about that one; the days of training and missions had not gotten any easier, and energy was too important to start losing.

YOU: thank you, but how did you know where my room was?

UNSAVED NUMBER: tis a secret

UNSAVED NUMBER: wait that sounds horrible i promise im not a stalker

UNSAVED NUMBER: i just asked someone if they knew

YOU: that kinda sounds like what a stalker would say T-T

UNSAVED NUMBER: NOOOO IM SORRY forget what i said, eat well pls, gn!!

Ah, so under his collar, he was just.. a normal guy.

A funny one at that, with a personality? Nearly shocking for boys your age. The food was good too, with the

When you tell Itadori about last nights dinner, he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Huh, he made you that?" He asks, lips pursed a little. "Thats cool."

"What did everyone else have?" You ask him, as you two both put on your shoes from the school lockers.

"Inumaki made a different dish, a soup."

You had nothing like that- you got salmon and onigiri.

"Huh, thats not surprising." He says after you tell him, "Thats his favorite."

He.. had made you his favorite? and like.. actually made it for you, not just bought whatever from a store. He made something completely different- lighter accounting it being almost bedtime?

So.. he was considerate too.

—

After that, it didn't take long for the messages began to roll back and forth.

What turned from appreciation for his cooking, turned into meme sharing and tiktok sending, then.. into photos, of homework, of a cat brushing up against his leg on the street, a aisle of snacks, asking for what you want. In return, he got imessage games, where he would never lose, opinions on video games and shows, and hypothetical questions about his curse.

YOU: so lets say ur playing a video game

INUDUMBASS: which one

YOU: literally not important, anything competitive

YOU: anyways, ur playing right in a voice chat

INUDUMBASS: yes go on 🙄

YOU: and you start losing, can you say anything

INUDUMBASS: i try not to actively kill people on the mic so no

INUDUMBASS: it will still go through 100%

YOU: nobody said u had to tell someone to do that 😭

INUDUMBASS: clearly you have not been around anybody who is losing in a game before

YOU: god are u rlly that cringy??

INUDUMBASS: are you just finding this out??

INUDUMBASS: and no, i wouldn't ever do that kind of thing, i do have self-control, yknow

YOU: mhm totally

And maybe he did for online players, but he would not hesistate to make the phone drop out of your hands in the lunch room as you two played 8-ball from opposite sides of the table, just to fuck up your aim as you made a winning shot, turning the game over to his benefit.

It's okay, because you got your revenge pulling out the chair from underneath him, and watching him smack his ass on the hard school-floor, and resist not cursing in pain. He would still smile at you- eventually afterwards. He would roll his eyes, but accept the fair play anyways.

It was painfully obvious to everyone else that you two had something going on.

And maybe you didn't realize how much you were admiring him until the personality in his messages shone in him in reality.

Of course, communication was inconvenient but Inumaki wasn't dumb. One eye look told you everything you needed to know. He would snicker at Itadori's occasional mishap while training, then immediately lock in for his own, all the while never sending a mishaped word out of his mouth. And never using more of his curse than needed. Everyone knew he was trustworthy.

Nearly once a day, if he could, he made food (you thought about the first time he made it for you, specially for you, and it makes all his food taste even sweeter) and you watched everyone enjoy it, then noticed as he helped clean up- even though Maki and Megumi urged him to sit. Self-less, kind.

It was really the time on a friday night, after such a long week that everyone decided to ditch the movie theater to instead use the lounges tv (thanks to gojo, was totally decked out for the students), that maybe you start to notice Inumaki- really notice him.

You had been sitting on the food at one end of the long couches, as Toge sat at the other end, his legs draped over the arm rest as he rested his right side against the backrest.

You honestly don't know why you even kept on looking- it wasn't even that serious of a movie, yet he was so intently watching, sweatshirt not big enough to cover the usual half of his face, revealing the thin inky marks on his cheeks, leading to his lips.

He was biting the inside of his lower lip as he watched, probably an old habit back from when he was a kid- he had always been like this, he mentioned once. His arms were lazily crosed, and even his hair had been pushed so strands flicked upwards in tusseled ccondition. His greyish-violet eyes were reflecting all the action scenes, so relaxed but also, analyzing.

For the briefiest moment, you wished it was you that was sitting next to him, not Maki.

Or, the rest of the night, as you tried to focus on the movies, with your arms wrapped around your knees.

It was so odd to think weeks had passed, and suddenly, a boy that you had never known before and were scared to know, had become such a phenomenon in your life. A sustainable source of kindness and excitement that came from a boy that didn't even speak full sentences.

He made your heart flutter. As embarssing as it is. Would probably say it was embarssing, if he knew. Not like it was really ever that serious, right?

You two were friends, maybe an odd pair, but at the very least, very good classmates, and at the best, two people that loved to bully each other and talk even when words were a non-possibility.

—

TOGE: hey btw, you looked great tn.

YOU: lmao i looked like a bum

TOGE: well even if you did, it looked cute

TOGE: anyways, ima going tobed, im sleepy,, night night

was this really all in your head?

YOU: night night, toge :)

TOGE: :)))

It had to be.

The next morning was going to prove difficult for that insanity plea;

TOGE: i have nothing planned for today

YOU: you should be studying 😭

TOGE: nah, i should be hanging out with you

YOU: this is hanging out with me

TOGE: no like, hang out hang out

YOU: where? its too hot outside today

TOGE: in my dorm then?

YOU: with who?

TOGE: with you??

TOGE: At six, you should come hang with me, itll be fun

You swallow as you look down at your phone screen, and take your bottom lip between your teeth. That same feeling was coming back, but not out of any of the reasons before. This felt different. An excited giddiness with freckles of nervousness.

YOU: as long as you got the snacks, i wont miss it

TOGE: ill buy the whole store for you

Ahaha.. so funny right?

Somehow, it was starting to feel like the real joke was how well you were fooling yourself into thinking this was just friendly banter.

You found yourself showering and picking out a comfy outfit, braiding your hair and carefully selecting a perfume. You nearly caught yourself trying to replay the memory of getting dressed the night of the movie-party.

"hey btw, you looked great-"

You wish he could tell you to just stop thinking, would be doing you a huge solid. Especially as you approach his room, which you had found yourself wondering what was on the other side, when the boy stepped out from the door frame.

"Konbu." He waved, with a warm smile. His hair was pushed back from his face a little, and he had a white sleepshirt on, with some baggy grey sweatpants.

"Hi, Toge." You had never really called him by his first name before, and if he thought negatively, the small smile reaching his eyes disobeyed the thought.

He stepped aside and let you take your first look into the room- maybe you had not thought about it so hard, but it somehow made sense.

Band posters on some of the walls, poor taken photos of the second years and first years all together taped there too, an occasional plant dangling off a book shelf or window sill, a dresser, a little worn with character, sits nearby with a tv angled on its edge, towards the bed for easy viewing. A PS4 sits behind it, along with a headset, with the mic turned away from the front.

He has books sitting on his desk, an old fashioned hand-carry radio sits on one of its edges, and it makes for also a side table to his bed, sitting on a metal bedframe with blankets and infamous navy bedsheets.

Its springing with his character, and the smell of a refreshing cologne is in the air- the same type she would catch sometimes lingering as he walked by.

"Its not what I expected."

He walked by her to sit at his spinning desk chair, turning to face her. "Salmon?" He inquires.

"Well yeah, its just your style. With the uniform and your curse, it might not be so obvious to other people who don't know you."

He leaned back in the chair and looked up interestedly at the ceiling. Was that rude to say?

He takes out his phone, and a quick second later, presents the phone screen to you, opened to the notes app.

/i never thought abt it like that/

/well, i mean, i have but im glad you understand it, kinda impressive that you figured it out/

/or im just easily readable/

"That would be a good thing, right?" You leave the phone screen on, but puts it away from your view. "That your friends get to read you, despite everything. That means youve gotten good at what you do.."

Toge's lips quirk to one side as he thinks, and your eyes watch as his marks follow the corners.

He raises his hand to get a wishy-washy motion, and you furrow your brows. When he types, he stops you from picking up your phone aswell, only to present what hes wrote in the text box.

/Well, kinda. no matter what I do to express myself, its kinda hard to be fully understood. i miss out on a huge part of everyday life, even if people understand what idea im trying to get across, its atypical./

/no amount of tone or facial expression can amount to words and their complex meanings. i think i am actually really lucky that my curse does not extend to messages- i think id be screwed./

"I don't think its too different to what people really feel like though." You explain to listening ears. "Most people felt like they aren't totally understood, that people just don't get them totally.. but I understand that, you don't have much of a choice, and we take advantage of what we can do sometimes."

You watch his face change a little to settle on your features more- and you feel yourself being pulled into his attention.

"I think even if your curse had taken away your ability to communicate in ways you do now, youre still worth knowing, Toge. I think everyone agrees."

His eyes soften, and it nearly strikes your heart into a million pieces. His smile too, could he be anymore cute? He wasn't hiding it this time. He shows how much he appreciates your words in the flush of his cheeks and the way his palms meet together.

He lets out a relaxing sigh, and looks away, then his eyes light up to bags sitting by the bedside.

"Sujiko." He urges to look, pointing to the grocery bag, which seems to be loaded with stuff. You walk closer and grab it, then find yourself sitting down quietly on the side of his bed.

The bag is full of snacks and drinks, some previously mentioned in chats, like he had written them all down, and got them for you to see.

"You bought the whole store, huh?" You raised an eyebrow playfully.

A grin and a happy thumbs up in return.

As promised.

You spend the next few hours bambling about his bedroom, looking through all the semi-decent hidden school papers, and letting him explain all the pictures on the wall.

He explained things thoroughly, like each detail was inside of him, kept for safekeeping. His eyes would light up in such appreciation, and it almost felt natural when you were caught in his gaze. Like he could keep you for safekeeping too.

Of course, his PlayStation was clean and ready for use, and by the time you two had gotten the controllers out and opened Ramune bottles, the sunlight was long gone. Outside was quiet, but you two didn't care much as you two sat together, him letting you sit on the bed while he took the floor. Glaringly bright flashes of action splattered against the postered walls, and more than once, your playful nudge with your foot against his arm to mess up caused much whining and laughter alike.

His laughter was like an entirely different language, speaking of his delight. It was not a rarity, but still a treasure. It is infectious and only serves to remind you that he is just a teenager, and he is having so well-deserved fun.

Eventually, Maki knocked against the wall and shouted through muffled barriers "Inumaki, be quiet, I am trying to sleep!" the sound alarmed them both, but only created further snickering.

But, they turned off the game in a half-apology and instead put on some horror flick that was on a student-shared Hulu account, and you both settle down eating gummi worms and flavored popcorn.

Maybe it was being distracted by having such a good time, it takes the calm before the storm of the horror movie to realize Toge and you have gotten really comfortable on his bed, backs against his pillows. They smell like his shampoo.. or maybe you are just close enough to smell it off of him. It's soft, comfortable, and clean, and something new to your senses.

He is warm, you can tell. His body is close enough, legs crossed as they lay straight down on top of the duvet, but his arm supports his head, and is behind you on the pillow. He seems semi-entertained (of course, you had challenged him to watch a horror movie.. but maybe challenging a Jujutsu Sorcerer to not get scared was faulty logic. There were scarier things than makeup and bad wigs.)

You didn't wanna look at your phone- you didn't want to see the time and be guilty for staying so long, you knew it must be close to midnight. Would he tell you that you should go to sleep? Would he bring you back to your dorm and say goodbye at the door?

Ignoring the time for the sake of Toge's soft cologne and sheets? Sounded pretty selfish, although it made your stomach flutter.

"Am I keeping you awake?" It comes out as a whisper, and you lean in closer.

"Bonito flakes." He whispered back swiftly with a head shake no, tearing his eyes from the screen to you. He smiles a little, charmingly, as the flecks of violet in his eyes flash with the TV screen. This was the first time you saw them in all their detail, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

When you both turn away from each other, you can feel his arm shift from his face, and around the pillow you were laying on. It makes you shift inevitably closer.

His shirt bunches towards the side he is lying on, revealing the sliver of skin between the hem and the top of his sweatpants, toned and pale in the soft light. You try not to stare.

It makes you think. Was thing.. flirting?

Was the attraction to the cursed speech user simmering ever since the first message? Since the first time you saw him at the beginning of the school year?

Would anybody blame you? All those times when there was nothing to be scared of when he proved nothing less than just a great friend, kind, playful, selfless, and strong?

You knew that would never change- for as long as he was here and breathing. He wanted everyone to know that's who he was.

Who would blame you, as you let the feeling ride with sliding your hand to the middle of his chest? His white sleepshirt is soft after many rounds of wash, but what is even better is resting your cheek against his shoulder, right at the top where his arm meets, and you can feel his eyes glance at you. It feels like such a relief, although you wonder if this is really normal to be happy about.

"Is this okay?" You whisper.

In response, his hand slips away from the distance on the pillow behind you, and the pads of his fingers rest on your arm, hugging you slightly closer.

"Mhm." He hums in approval quietly, and his fingertips graze your soft skin, up and down slowly. "Salmon."

This tango had endured until the near end of the movie, yet you could barely pay attention to any of the plots because Toge was holding you so securely, and letting you trace circles on the middle of his chest, and the sound of his deep breaths were overtaking your thoughts anyways rather than the fake monster on screen.

You are nearly ready to close your eyes, when you can feel a squeeze on your arm, and when you open your eyes, you can see the same notes app in dark mode, with something written out.

/Are you tired?/

"N-No, not yet." You look at the time at the top of the screen. 12:49 am.

He seems amused by that, raising an eyebrow.

"You're just comfortable." You say as you both totally ignore the last few minutes of the movie. "It's nice being with you."

Toge looks at you like he wants to say something, pursing his lips as he smiles and glances away for a moment.

Is your heart racing? This is the best you've felt in weeks. Why does it feel like your stomach is fluttering?

He presents his notes again, and you honestly wish he could say them himself.

/When we first met, I honestly wouldn't think we would be so close. I am really happy we are. I feel like now is a good time to tell u, since we are alone./

Your cheeks feel like they are burning, and its your turn to look away in feble attempt to hide the flush arising.

"I am happy too." You begin to explain, "You're.. you're fun and kind.. you have always been so nice to me and listen to me snore on about classes and training. You watch all the stupid tiktoks I send you and ask for my opinions. I always feel like you notice everything and youre trustworthy. I can.. only hope that I am half as genuine to you as you are to me."

Toge nods in confirmation. It makes you feel like you're on fire, and the background music with the black credits screen cannot even pull your attention from him.

His chest was rising and falling right below your fingertips, and his face slowly focused on you, the tension feels so good and thick, that you honestly wonder how much longer you will convince yourself that normal friendships feel like this.

He was always honest with you. He deserved it in return, but it might be the most vulnerable you've been in years. He deserved that too- he had never held anything back.

"I think I like you."

The words leave your mouth before you even have a chance to smack yourself into reality. Instead, they sit between the darkness and him.

"More than just being friends."

His grip loosens just a tad, and panic seems to run through your body- he was not interested, you had completely misunderstood the situation.

"I-Im sorry-" You take your hands away and try your best to sit up from practically lying down. You were in a boys room, what were you thinking? You should get some space from him, so he doesn't think you a total freak. "I didn't-"

You can feel a tight bond around your wrist, keeping you right where you sit, and when you whip your head back, his eyes are wide with interest and warmth that you want to melt into a puddle of dumb choices. He opens his mouth, maybe to try to say something, but he considers it over and over again. When he feels sure you wont go, he lets go.

He raises a finger to his eye-

I.

both hands cover the center of his chest, cusping it almost-

Heart.

Finally, one last finger. Pointed at-

You..

Was he trying to say.. I like you?

Your body relaxes finally, and the urge to run away is still lingering, but you can't honestly say you want to. Not with how his eyes are flattering with some kind of emotion, his arms opening.

You can't hold back any longer. Your arms swiftly move around his neck as you envelop him so closely, and he instantly hugs you back, pulling you so close your lips meet the skin of his neck. He sounds like he is humming, his hands rubbing your back soothingly. You sit an appreciate his scent, the feeling of his skin, his warmth, for just a moment or two longer until he slowly departs from you, searching your face for any further comment.

"That's really.. really good to hear." You sigh out, with a bit of a smile, reaching to rub a weary eye; you realize he has taken your hand in the process.

He offers his own hand, letting it rub the corner were some wetness at resided, before letting the rest of his finger skin around you hairline, then through your strands of hair. He follows each motion, as he tries to comfort you.

Your hand reaches to sit atop his, and although its late and if someone knew you two were here together, not only would it at the very least be a detention and school clean up duty and at the very best, be a rumor the other students would talk about, despite this you honestly didn't care when the perfect boy was sitting right infront of you, with tussled hair and red lips, just like that night during the movie-party.

"I know its late." She started to say, but he quickly took out his phone again. "I won't keep you up anymore."

/you keep me up no matter what./

/atleast here i get to hear your pretty voice and see your face./

"What do you think about.. when you think of me?" You needed to know what he had been thinking of you all this time.

Instead of using his phone, his hands gently present themselves, and touch parts of your body chastely.

His hands travel from your palm, fingers skimming past your veins in a kind of silent poetry-

Your scars.. your freckles, your strength, your sunkissed summertime skin.

Then, he brushes past your shoulder to twirl around with your hair-

your beauty, the way you attract people.

Then up your face to your temple-

Your brain, your mind.

Then your cheeks-

Your flush, your sweet smiles.

Finally, the pad of his thumb grazes against your chin, right below your lower lip.

The way you speak, the way you are.

You can feel the urge in him, radiating off his lidded eyes and hesistant touch, quietly as he landscapes your being.

"You can, yknow." His eyes look up towards your gaze, "If you want too. If you are ready, of course-"

"Please," The words stilled you instantly, yet he continued holding your face more tenderly. They were soft and yet thick. "Kiss me."

The curse enacted on you, and although for a brief flash there was some concern in his face that perhaps it was too soon, quickly was dismissed when he saw you come closer by the help of his hand, and for just a moment held the proximity between your pairs of lips before slowly pressing close, your lips gently against his.

It was chaste and quiet on the outside, but it was like adding more gunpower to an already lit firework, the explosion of emotion surging your veins making you never wanting to leave.

His thumb was caressing the side of your cheek, it was making you dizzy with his attention. It was everything you had hoped for the moment you had even thought of him- to be close in every single way, to know every part of the perfect, strong, peaceful boy that you so clearly saw every day.

It felt like a dream, but at the very least, hoped you would wake up on his chest, with the Playstation off and the soft breathing of your boy in the air.

But instead, youre both here, and he is kissing you like he has won the lottery.

You both smile, until you couldn't tell when the kiss ended, and where the laughter began.

Surely, he was smart and kind and self-less and strong and all those things youd toss about in your mind at night.

But the idea that this may have never happened because you were too shy to say hello to the usually quiet and calm boy, made you feel like the stupidest yet luckiest girl in the world.

Maybe it was you that had won the jackpot, just by giving away a simple yellow post-it note.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊

thank you so much for reading! this is only ending one. i have plans for a nsfw verison and an misunderstanding verison. please let me know if any of yall are interested!

see you later pookies!

[sturn-saturn]

the diamond lab

pairing: fem!reader x bf!chris

warnings: tears, mentions of pregnancy, happy happy, not proofread!

a/n: ok so this is the last part but if this series does good i'll continue it and write about the wedding

part 1 part 2

word count: 1,274

chris grabs the bag with the ring carefully placed in the box and you all wave goodbye and step out the shop.

"well, this is where it all begins big guy." flora says patting chris' back.

a few days passed since flora, chris, and matt paid a little visit to 'the diamond lab,' but you have been a little suspicious of every little thing lately, chris seems off, you're worried you did something wrong.

you had no idea what was happening but you're all on vacation and you didn't want your overthinking to get in the way of having fun with your favorite people.

you and chris are currently lying in bed. in each others hold, your absolute favorite place to be.

"chris?"

"hm?"

"are you alright?"

"y-yeah. i'm all good, sweetheart. especially when i have the most amazing woman by my side."

"you're so sweet." you pat his chest.

"you're sweeter." he kisses you gently but deeply. "you taste sweeter too."

you giggle into the kiss relishing in the moment.

"i have a fun day planned for all of us tomorrow, why don't we get some sleep."

"ouu what is it? tell me." you beg.

"that is for me to know and for you to find out." he says booping your nose with his finger.

you both drift into sleep holding each other close, not knowing your whole life is going to change tomorrow.

the next evening...

"alright so, for this place we're going to on the beach tonight, all the girls are wearing white and all the guys are wearing black." chris says smiling.

"huh? why? does this place have a dress code?"

"yeah, something like that. finish up your makeup, we should be leaving in 30 minutes."'

"yes sir!" you say saluting to him.

"you're an idiot."

"your idiot." you smile.

you finally finish your hair, makeup, and you got dressed into this white dress and chris walks out of the bathroom wearing this black outfit.

"oh, chris. you look so handsome." you say adjusting his collar and staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

"oh yeah? look at you. you look like the woman of my dreams. you are the woman of my dreams."

you place you hand behind his head and gently guide his lips to yours.

"i love you."

"i love you more, princess. now, are you ready for dinner? the other said they're running late cause they were tired from the club last night but they'll meet us after dinner by the beach."

"club? did flora go? is she alright? ugh that girl. she should be resting!"

"flora is fine, her and matt didn't stay long before she got a headache." chris laughs at your concern for your best friend as he guides you out the hotel room.

to no surprise, chris made a reservation for dinner, one of your favorite places here in aruba.

"chris, thank you for this. thank you for everything."

"no need to thank me, darling. you're my girlfriend, i love you, and i would do anything for you."

you grab his hand across the table and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb.

"excuse me! could we get the check please?" you ask the waiter.

"yes ma'am." he responds.

you begin to take out your wallet to pay for the delicious dinner you both just shared.

"what are you doing?" he chuckles.

"paying for dinner?"

"pay for dinner? baby, don't be ridiculous. put that away. i got it."

"chris, you always pay let me do something for you."

"you do more than enough for me. i'm paying."

"fine." you smile appreciatively putting your wallet back into your purse.

chris finishes paying for your dinner and you both head to the beach for a little walk.

"wait, y/n. the sunset looks beautiful right now, turn around facing the sun, i want to take a picture of you."

"okay." you giggle. you have your back facing chris and he snaps a few pictures.

"perfect."

"can i see now?" you ask.

"of course."

"alright let's see how you d-did." you turn around to something you couldn't believe.

"c-chris. what are you doing."

chris is on one knee, holding the ring of your dreams, your friends are behind him, holding in tears, and capturing a moment you will never forget.

"y/n. almost 4 years ago you changed something in me. i went from thinking i'll never be loved to seeing my future flash before my eyes. from the moment i saw you, the moment you spoke, i knew you were the one i'm supposed to be with. you showed me what it was like to be loved. really loved. i adore your smile, the way you hide your face in your hands when you laugh. i love the way you love me. i would walk to the edge of the earth if it meant i got to spend every moment with you for the rest of my life because there is no one else i would rather do life with. i want to have our own little family, i want to grow old with you. before i met you forever seemed terrifying, you taught me that forever isn't scary when it's with the right person. you're my person. will you marry me?"

at this moment tara is sobbing and holding jakes hand while johnnie rubs her back, matt has his arm around flora as she's tearing up, larray and nick are smiling big, and sam and colby are being the usual guys they are screaming, "SAY YES! SAY YES!"

"well, y/n? what do you say?"

"YES! A MILLION TIMES YES!" you yell hugging chris tightly.

"alright, let's get this ring on you, honey." he giggles.

you feel someone tap your shoulder and you turn around to see some very, very, familiar faces.

"MOM! DAD!" you cry into their arms.

"hi, sweetie!"

"you guys came!? when did you get here? how are you here?"

"chris told us all the plan and we flew out here last night. we wouldn't miss this moment for the world."

"we wouldn't either!" you hear someone say.

"JIMMY! MARYLOU! JUSTIN YOU'RE HERE TOO!?

"of course we are!" he says pulling you into a hug.

"wait no ones wearing black or white."

"yeah chris tricked you into wearing white." flora laughed.

"he's very sneaky, huh?" you laugh as you look up at him as he has his arm around your shoulder. "wait a minute, you're not pregnant are you? chris did you lie about that too, you doofus."

"yeah, sorry ba-"

"actually, one more piece of good news, flora wasn't feeling too good yesterday. we got a test and turns out, we're gonna have a little sturniolo running around in about 8 months." matt smiles kissing the top of floras head.

"OH MY GOD!?!?" you scream out hugging flora.

"damn matty poo got busy, huh?" larray says

everyone cheers for your engagement and your best friend becoming a new mother.

"a daughter in law and a grandchild. what more could i ask for?" marylou smiles hugging both you and flora congratulating you.

"y/n." flora says pulling you aside.

"what's up?"

"our dream of you being my baby's aunt is finally coming true. i remember us in our dorm room saying that you'll be my kids aunt and i'll be your kids aunt. and now it's really happening."

"and i wouldn't have it any other way." you pull flora into a warm hug. "you're going to be the best mother."

"you're going to be the best wife."

you both walk hand in hand and join your friends and family to celebrate the wondrous evening filled with love, hope, and happiness.