#i was really looking forward to the weekend :((

[theemporium]

lukey getting his girlfriend a promise ring but most definitely forgets to tell his brothers so when she pulls up to the lake house with a ring on her ring finger they’re jumping to conclusions?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Did you know?” 

Quinn blinked, frowning at the way Jack pushed into his room and quickly shut the door behind him before spinning back around to glare at him. He was almost tempted to tease him over his odd behaviour before he noticed the genuine hurt and panic in his brother’s gaze.

“Know what?” Quinn asked. 

“That Luke is fucking engaged,” Jack hissed out, muscles in his jaw twitching at the pressure of his teeth gritting together. “Why the fuck did he not say anything? Why the fuck did you not say anything? I literally live with him, how the hell did he not tell me anything?” 

Quinn blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Luke is not engaged.” 

“My mistake, the huge fucking ring on his girlfriend’s left ring finger gave me the wrong impression,” Jack snapped back, pissed off and upset and feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of his younger brother—his baby brother—being engaged when he barely knows how to work a damn washing machine.

Quinn choked out a surprised noise. “The what?”

“The fucker got engaged and didn’t even tell us,” Jack hissed, beginning to pace around the room. “Oh god, Mom is gonna kill him. Mom is gonna kill us.”

Quinn frowned. “Why did he not tell us he was even thinking about proposing?” 

Jack huffed. “When the fuck did he even get engaged?” 

Quinn shot his brother a blank look. “They just came back from a weekend away. Take a fucking guess.” 

Jack’s nose scrunched up. “In Ohio. Who the fuck gets engaged in Ohio?”

Quinn let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he quickly stood up from his spot on the bed. “We need to talk to him.”

“What the fuck do we say?” Jack questioned, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "Congratulations?"

“What else can we say?” Quinn retorted, shaking his head. “That we love and support him but what the fuck is he thinking getting engaged and not telling anybody?” 

Jack shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Jack, you can’t say shit like that.”

“Can’t say shit like what?” 

Both boys snapped their heads around to find Luke standing in the doorway, a stick of beef jerky in his hand that he was currently munching on as he looked between the two of them with an odd expression. 

“What? What did I miss?” Luke frowned. 

Despite the initial hurt and anger he felt minutes ago, Jack couldn’t stop himself from darting forward and dragging his little brother into a hug. “You’re a dick for not saying anything to us but I am happy for you, even if I think you’re a little young. We love and support you no matter what, bud.”

Luke’s arms awkwardly hung by his side before he slowly patted Jack’s back. “Thanks?” 

Quinn looked a little more pensive, a softer expression on his face. “You could have told us, you know? We would have helped you pick out a ring or whatever else you needed.” 

“Oh,” Luke’s eyes widened a little before he shrugged. “It was no biggie, Bratter knew a few good places around Jersey so I was able to get it before we left after playoffs. I didn’t think either of you would really care.” 

Jack quickly stepped back, the anger suddenly back and rearing. “Woah, hold the fuck up, Bratter knew you were getting engaged before me? Your brother? What the fuck?” 

“Engaged?” Luke repeated with a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re engaged!” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I saw the ring!”

Luke blinked before snorting. “It’s a promise ring, dumbass.”

Quinn sighed.

“Oh,” was all Jack managed to get out. 

“I mean, I love her but like,” Luke shrugged, suddenly looking young and sheepish. “That is a big step, you know? But I’m serious about her. I wanted her to know that too.” 

“Right,” Quinn sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temples before smiling a little. “We are happy for you. Both of you. She’s good for you.”

Luke smiled a little.

Jack nodded. “And that is one hell of a promise ring, bud.”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as he already began to turn to leave the room.

But Jack continued. “I mean, not that it would hurt your bank account since I buy you everything—”

“That’s what big brothers are for!”

.

[pinkboaclub]

Scene Stealers

Summery: You and Harry decide to film yourself having sex for fun, until you decide to upload it and become famous over night.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: a lot of smut, sex tapes/filmed sex, pornstars, slight dom Harry, fem!reader (you and Harry attend a University in the US, but he is still English :)

It started as an intimate moment between you two, something that you thought would be funny. You were cuddling in your dorm room, squeezing yourselves into the twin bed, watching a movie on your laptop. Your roommate was gone, she was spending the weekend with her family, which allowed you two to get close.

It was slow, Harry giving you light kisses on your head as it rested on his chest, your hand resting on his abdomen, slowly rubbing up and down every once in a while. It wasn’t until Harry paused the movie and closed the laptop that you climbed on top of him, straddling his body. You leaned down to start making out with him, letting your hands grip his shirt as you started to grind yourself against his crotch. Your already short shorts were starting to ride up while he gripped your ass.

��Mmm, let me see you.” He lightly pushed you forward, motioning you to sit up as he pulled away from your lips. You giggled, not really knowing what he was trying to do. “I want to take a picture of you.”

“No, my hair looks so crazy right now.” You laughed, covering your face as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

“You look so perfect.” He placed one hand on your hip, capturing you while you hid behind your hands. “C’mon baby, let me see your pretty face.”

You finally uncovered your face to let him quickly snap his photos.

“Are you done yet?” You laughed as he kept his phone pointed toward you.

“I’m taking a video.”

“Harryyy.” You said, drawing out his name. “I wanna keep kissing you.” You tugged on his shirt, hoping to get back to where you were and leaned down to kiss his neck.

“We can keep this on.” He whispered, gesturing to his phone, you both stared at each other for a moment. He leaned over to place his phone on the nightstand, propping it up against his water bottle, the camera pointing towards the bed. “Is this okay?”

You slowly nodded your head, “You’re not going to go around showing this to all your frat buddies, are you?”

“Hell no, this is only for me.” You knew he was telling you the truth, not only because you trusted him, but because you knew he wasn’t wasn’t the stereotypical frat boy—going around showing intimate photos of his girlfriend to everyone.

You leaned down again, going back to kissing him, his hands immediately finding their way back to your ass. He flipped you over, still being careful in the smaller bed. His hand traveled up your shirt, feeling every inch of your chest.

As he began to lift up your shirt you stopped him, remembering the camera pointed at the both of you. “Are we going to keep recording?” You smiled, looking up at him.

“We’ll do whatever you want, baby. Do you want to keep recording? Get your pretty face on camera, taking my cock?”

That was the first time you made a sex tape together. And it definitely wasn’t the last.

It was almost three times a week that you would film yourselves. There was something about it that was so exciting and sexy. It was a deeply intimate and vulnerable moment between you two and filming it to watch over and over again made it much more fun for some reason. It was very casual though, you weren't worried about getting certain shots, about anyone viewing it, it was just two University students filming themselves for fun.

Until it wasn’t.

You couldn’t remember who suggested you upload the videos to PornHub, but you do remember sitting on his bed in his frat house, watching the video slowly upload to the website.

“I can still cancel it, if you want to change your mind.” He reminded you.

But you didn’t cancel it, you both watched it upload with no regret in sight. You stared at the video for minutes, watching the view count. When the number went from 0 to 1 you both jumped. Someone just watched you two have sex.

Though it wasn’t your initial intention to make money from this, when you woke up to 100,000 views on your first video, after going to bed with under 50, and 20,000 subscribers, it wasn’t a conversation you could avoid. You were two broke students who needed extra money…and now you could get that by just having sex.

“I mean it’s not a bad idea…we’ve already made 100 dollars, for one video.” You said, pacing back and forth in your dorm room while Harry sat on your bed. “I guess I just worry about people finding out…our friends, our parents…that’s the only thing I worry about.”

Harry thought for a moment. “Fuck ‘em.” He shifted to the edge of the bed and grabbed your arm to pull you closer. “We’re making good money just off one video, we’re not showing our faces, it would be a wasted opportunity. Who cares what other people think, assuming they’d ever even find out.”

“I know……but we can’t tell anyone, if they find out, they find out, but let’s just try to keep it a secret as long as possible.”

Harry gave you a kiss, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment, until he moved to your jawbone, then your neck.

“Plus, I’ve been enjoying having these…..watching my pretty girl get fucked whenever I want…and you’re so good on camera, you’re a natural. You’re pretty moans…pushing your beautiful tits together, I want people to watch us, knowing I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”

So you continued making videos. You still weren’t worried about the quality, it was the only art form where people were quite content with quantity over quality.

You still didn’t show your faces, only shooting videos from the neck down as he fucked you in missionary, setting the camera up behind you as you were riding him, and yet, people loved it.

You were getting millions of views per video with thousands of comments…people were actually taking the time to create an account and comment on a porn video for you guys. They loved how gentle Harry was with you while also being dominant, how he praised you, gave you the best aftercare, sometimes even stopping before his orgasm to cuddle with you and help you come down from yours. They loved your moans and how you knew how to be a perfect mix of sweet and sexy.

Comments (1.3k)

User497063848:

i’ve never commented on a video before but i created an account just to let you know how perfect this video is 👍

KeeponWorking0527

I need a relationship like this. You two are perfect.

cherryangel444

he is sooooo hot,,,she is very lucky

Keepcumming8742

→ HE is the lucky one she has such a perfect body

It wasn’t long until you felt like porn celebrities.

You were constantly being featured on the home page, people in your comments were begging for more videos minutes after you just posted…but most of all, they were dying to see your faces.

“I mean…it’s not a horrible idea, and a lot of people are demanding it.” Harry pointed out, as you debated whether or not to reveal your identities.

“But it’s also something we can’t take back…once our faces are out there, they’re out there forever.”

“That’s true…but is that such a bad thing? We'll make so much more money if we use our names and show our faces, that we'll be rich enough to just disappear if we end up regretting it.” Harry replied, knowing that pornstars who had a face to their content make way more money than anonymous performers. “We could buy a house in the Italian countryside as retired pornstars.”

You laughed as he outlined your future together. “This is something you’ve thought about a lot?”

“Of course I have, the only thing I’ve been worrying about since we started dating is how we’re going to comfortably spend the rest of our lives together, and we’re making a fuck ton of money…this is the only time that weight hasn’t been on my shoulders.”

You looked at him softly, not knowing he had been stressing over your future together. You would be lying if you said your life hadn’t improved once you became sex workers. Not having to worry about tuition, food, finances after graduating, you felt liberated.

“Let’s show our faces then.”

For your next video, not only did you show your faces but you upgraded everything. You went from iPhones to a professional camera and microphones, capturing the perfect shots and noises of each position.

You decided to film in Harry’s bedroom at his frat house while all his friends were at some party at a sorority. You could be as open and loud as you wanted. You swapped out Harry’s gray and navy blue sheets for some pretty florals that matched well with your lingerie.

Harry set up the camera on a tripod at the side of the bed as you waited on the bed, sitting on your heels. Once he hit the record he walked over to you, his hands immediately finding your hips and pulling you close.

“Tell me if you want to stop, or if you need a break, whatever you need.”

You nodded and smashed your lips onto his, eager to make your video. His hands roamed your entire body to highlight each feature for the camera.

“You look so sexy, I love this set.” He complimented you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

“I figured I needed to wear my best for the special occasion.” You cheekily replied, pulling him down with you as you threw your bra aside and layed down on your back.

It wasn’t long until the camera was off the tripod and in Harry’s hand, filming you as he hovered above you, running his hands up your stomach and kneeding your breasts.

“So perfect.” He whispered, admiring your body.

His hands slowly fell to your panties, hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. Teasing you, his fingers danced around your pussy, but never touching where you wanted him to.

“mmm, please Harry.” You whined, trying to roll your hips into his fingers. It felt odd to say his name on camera, which you had previously avoided doing.

“Okay, baby, I’ve got you.” He finally slid two fingers inside of you, causing you to let out a heavy breath and continue to roll your hips as he curled his fingers upward.

“So good, Harry.”

Your fingers found the waistband of his briefs in between your legs and pulled them down. As his cock sprang out you grabbed it and started to slowly jerk him off.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, looking up at him and the camera.

You both definitely played up your sexuality when you were filming, because you knew how porn worked, but what made people like you so much is that it was still natural and realistic, it never crossed the line of being theatrical.

“Do you need to ask, pretty baby?” You gave him a satisfactory smile and shifted to where he was sitting on the bed, still holding the camera, and you sat on your knees in front of him.

You grabbed his cock again, using your mouth and lips to lick and kiss along his entire shaft. Your eyes stayed on him, and the lense of the camera, most of the time, giving them a seductive look.

“Such a perfect cock sucker.” Harry ogled, switching between looking directly at you and through the camera.

Your mouth found his tip, preparing him and yourself before lowering your mouth down repeatedly. You moaned as you pleased his cock, another thing your viewers loved. From your very first videos they would comment how you seemed to love Harry’s cock by your repetitive hums and moans as it was in your mouth.

FranksPH1985

Listen to how much she moans while his dick is in her mouth, she looks so perfect.

lovelylovely<3

her moaning every time he praises her as she sucks him 😩 you are such a cute couple!! 💞

User29394682031

She sucks him off like it’s her favorite pastime. Lucky man.

You eventually found yourself back on the bed, laying down in the same position you were prior, laying down on your back. This time, you held the camera as he laid down in between your legs.

He peppered kisses on your inner thighs until his mouth found your clit, giving an initial lick before lapping and sucking at it. Your free hand grabbed his hair, gripping and pulling as he pleasured you.

“Oh, fuck, Harry, that’s so fucking good.” You cried, lifting your hips up and down, unable to stay still.

“Yeah? You like your pussy licked sweet baby?” You moaned in response. He lifted one of your legs, pushing it to your chest to get better access as his motions sped up.

“Need you to fuck me, please Harry.” You said after a couple minutes, knowing you wouldn’t last much longer, but wanted to cum on his cock.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He got off the bed and grabbed the tripod, placing it on the other side of the bed, focused on you two.

“Flip over, let me see you on your knees.” He requested in a dominant tone, helping you flip over.

He dragged his cock up and down against you as a way to tease you, which worked. You whimpered out impatiently, causing him to lay a light slap to your ass.

“Be patient baby, you’ll get my cock eventually, no need to be a whiney girl.”

He finally slid himself into you and pushed his entire length in, causing you to slightly wince. His pace was very quick from the get go, causing a string of long moans to repetitively leave your mouth.

“Uh huh, fuck Harry…please keep going.”

He stayed quiet, focusing on slamming his hips into your ass. You struggled to hold yourself up as he pounced into you, both your arms and legs almost giving out at his fast pace.

Your stomach began to churn, a familiar warmness beginning to fill your stomach. Then suddenly, right as you were nearing your orgasm, his thrusts drastically stopped, causing your breathing to hitch. As he started to move again, his thrusts stayed slow, feeling like there were minutes in between each one.

Taking matters into your own hands, after silent whines didn’t work, you started to back yourself into him, hoping to get as close to your orgasm as you once were. Harry immediately stopped you, roughly grabbed your hips and pulled you into him, bottoming himself out in you.

You cried out as you felt his long cock reach the deepest it could go.

“Shhh, shhh, stop baby.” He told you, leaning down to wrap an arm around you and talk in your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl and let me fuck you how I want? Or do we need to stop?”

“I’ll be good…please, I was about to cum Harry.” You complied. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaning back up.

“I know baby, I know. We’ll get you there.”

After continuing working on an extremely slow pace from behind, he turned you around, so you were still on your hands and knees, but now facing him. Taking your chin in his hand, he looked down at you.

“Can you suck my dick again?” He kindly asked. You almost laughed, this was one of his ways he liked to edge you, roughly work on you until you were so close to climaxing, then take all the attention off you. You can’t say you didn’t mind it, it made the orgasm 10x, and your viewers sure didn’t mind.

“You’re so mean.” You sarcastically said, trying to hide your smile.

“Oh, I know, so mean.” He replied, pouting his lip.

You grabbed his cock again, giving it all your attention, knowing that would get him back to fucking you sooner. Your ass stayed in the air, almost as if you were trying to entice him. And it definitely worked as he leaned forward to move his cock farther into your throat and to grab a handful of your ass.

Once you couldn’t take it anymore, you kissed up his abdomen, coming and crawling toward him.

“Please Harry.” You begged, leaning in to kiss him with your pouty lip. “I’ve only asked nicely, and I’ve been good.”

“I know you have baby, you’ve been so good. Why don’t you lay down for me, hmm? On your back.”

You didn’t hesitate. You placed your back on bed and opened your legs as if there was no time to waste.

“Let’s grab you a pillow, make sure you’re comfy.” He grabbed a pillow and placed it under your head. Once you were finally situated, his thrusts went back to a steadily fast past.

Harry placed one of your legs on his shoulder, holding the other one at his side as he watched your breast bounce at the rhythm of his thrusts.

“So fucking pretty…I love watching you.” He admired you. You didn’t reply, letting your repeated moans speak for themselves.

“Harry, ‘m so close.” You cried out, arching your back.

“Let go baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock.” He encouraged you.

You reached back, grabbing a fistful of your pillow and letting your mouth fall open in pleasure . Your stomach twisted again until you reached your peak, your orgasm erupting through you. It was almost like you blackedout from how powerful it was. You squeezed your eyes shut as all the sound around you was shut out.

Your breathing was heavy as you came down, like you had just run 5 miles. Harry’s pace slowed again, letting your now sensitive body rest.

“Need a break, baby?” This was the question he always asked after bringing you to an orgasm, knowing they could be quite powerful. It was something both you and your fans found endearing (and hot).

cycybaby1999

notice how he immediately checks in on her after she cums? 🥺 take notes men!

CherryLoved

The hottest thing a man can do is give you aftercare before he finishes. Y’all are so perf. 🫶

He pulled himself out of you, laid beside you and pulled you into his chest. He gently rubbed your back and rested his lips on your head.

“My legs are so shaky.” You noticed, smiling into his chest.

He chucked, looking down at your trembling limbs. “Poor girl,” He kissed your head and continued to help you come down. You felt your eyes become heavy, Harry’s now steady heart putting you to sleep. “All done?” He questioned, still rubbing your back.

“No, no, I wanted you to cum on my face.” He chuckled at your blatant vulgarity. “I thought it would be a good shot for our face reveal.”

You kneeled back down on the floor as Harry grabbed the camera again. You spit in your hand and began rubbing his shaft, using a mix of your spit and cum to get him off. The camera picked up Harry’s heavy, now unsteady, breathing as his orgasm approached.

He freed one of his hands and held the back of your hair before cumming all over your face. He took a moment to let the camera capture the white fluid that laid on your lips, cheek, and forehead.

After Harry gave you his sweet aftercare and stopped filming, you both cleaned up before getting back into his bed.

“That was so perfect, baby.” He complimented you as you rested against his chest, wearing one of his shirts and his sweatpants. “You still want to upload it?” He asked, clarifying once again.

“Of course, I think people will really like it…At least I did.”

Three days later, the video was uploaded and quickly became your highest viewed video, and the comments overwhelmingly positive.

Finally doing a face reveal!!! | HARRY & Y/N

CherryLoved

OMG??? YOU GUYS ARE WAY HOTTER THAN I IMAGINED?!?!

User29394682031

Never thought I’d see this day. Very hot.

lovelylovely<3

you guys are sooooo cute ��😩😩 im going to love watching you even more now!!!

cycybaby1999

damn girl, you are so gorg !!!

FranksPH1985

Big day for horny people.

You would open your computer every morning and read all the wonderful comments you were getting, which motivated you to make more and more videos.

“This is crazy…we’re going to become sex fiends after this.” You joked as you sat in his bed.

“So not much will change.” He joked back.

As you continued to read through each comment, your phone dinged from the nightstand. It was a text from your roommate.

Laila

Are you and Harry pornstars?

Tag List!

@mema10 @lizsogolden @harrrrystylesslut @tulips4harry @cloudyluun

[hottiesforhockey]

deal with the devil ⎜j.hughes

pairings: jack hughes x afab!reader genre: teammates sister⎜ friends with benefits ⎜secret relationship ⎜ warnings: vaginismus rep ⎜ fingering ⎜ fighting amongst friends :( ⎜ protective older brother curtis ⎜painful sex ⎜p in v ⎜public sex (...kinda) ⎜spitting ⎜curtis says some mean things about jack ⎜why do my jack fics always have him getting in a fight ⎜jack really is the kind to talk you through it ⎜ jack being oh so careful and gentle ⎜ synopsis: some things are private not secret - but your relationship with jack…oh that's definitely a secret. word count: 10k authors note: four nations jack has me feeling some type of way...this fic has some vaginismus rep in the smut scene with some mentions of painful sex so I hope everyone enjoys and let me know what you think!

(unedited)

You never pictured yourself as someone with a fuck buddy. 

You never pictured yourself having quickies in a supply closet. 

To be honest you never really pictured yourself doing anything other than sitting in a library studying … but here you are. 

 “You need to get up.” You hiss, smacking you pillow against the bare back in the bed next to you. You sigh, hitting the back one more time, before slumping against the mattress. “You’re insufferable.” 

“And yet you call me every weekend anyway.” The voice chuckles back, finally rolling onto his side facing you with a teasing grin on his face, his body lifting slightly as he reaches over you, turning off the alarm ringing on his phone. 

“Just admit that you like me.” He teases, his smile only growing as you shoot him a sharp glare. 

“I don’t like you, I just happen to get some satisfaction from your dick.” You mumble, finally smiling as his own expression drops. You’re not prepared to protect yourself and he launches forwards his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you down to a lying position as he wrestles to kneel above you, his hands gripping your arms as he pushes you into the bed. 

“Do you want to say that again, pretty girl?” He questions, his eyebrow quirked as you try to squirm in his hold. His grasp doesn’t falter for even a moment as you thrash beneath him, letting out soft chuckles every time you struggle a little too hard. 

“Fine, you win.” You whine, your body relaxing into the mattress as you stop your movements gazing up at the half naked man above you. “You look very handsome like this.” You comment, your eyes wandering over the man above you. His hair tousled, sharp eyes, his lips pulled back in a grin. His cheeks flush with heat and he watches you, watching him. 

You take the faltering in his grip to rip your arms from his hands, your thighs gripping onto his torso as you roll the two of you over, your hands taking the position his were in pushing his forearms into the mattress. His eyes trained on yours as you make yourself comfortable on his pelvis. 

“You win.” He mimics. You flash him a quick grin before leaning down to capture his lips with yours. It takes no more than five seconds for him to break free from your grip, his arms lifting off the mattress, his hands cupping either side of your jaw as he pulls you closer to him, one hand leaving your face to pull your hips down onto his. 

“Jack…” You mumble against his lips as you feel him smile against your lips, his own slowly trailing down your jaw as you drop your head to the side with a long sigh - Jacks hands making teasing motions against the edge of your panties, as the loud knock on your door startles you both. 

“Jack, dude we have to leave for practice in like fifteen minutes.” The voice of his roommate carries through the door, another sharp knock on the white wood pulling you away from the man below you. 

“You didn’t tell me he was here.” You hiss as quietly as possible, you’re quick to slide off the bed, reaching to the floor pulling your leggings on as quickly as possible before reaching over to Jack’s desk pulling on his hoodie. 

“I didn’t know he was.” Jack hisses back, making quick work of pulling on his own t-shirt just as the doorknob turns the two of you barely managing to get dressed as Jack’s brother steps into the room. 

“Dude, we have to leave — oh, sorry I didn’t know you were here.” Luke pushes open the door his gaze shooting to yours in surprise, you let your head fall in shame, the room falls silent as Luke looks between half naked Jack on the bed and then back to you - Luke had been the first one on the team to meet you through your older brother, when the youngest Hughes found himself abandoned to stay in jersey for all star weekend on his own - Curtis inviting him over for dinner so the young player would eat at least one home cooked meal that week. Luke had eventually introduced you to the rest of the team at events, insisting on you coming anytime your brother brought up inviting you, hence the awkward position you and Jack find yourself in now - Luke just sighs, shooting Jack a stern glare, “Look, I don’t even want to know.” Luke sighs, looking at both of you against with a shake of his head, “Curtis is gonna kill you, you know.” He remarks as he slips back out of the room, closing the door softly behind himself. 

This is not how things were meant to go. 

The silence that follows Luke’s departure is thick enough to suffocate. Jack runs a hand through his already messy hair, exhaling sharply as he swings off the side of his bed. “Well,” He says finally, dragging the word out as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, tucking it away into his pocket. “That went well.” Jack lets out an ‘oof’ as you shove at his shoulder, rolling your eyes as you gather your stuff into your tote bag. 

“I can’t believe we got caught like that.” Your voice is a harsh whispers, your hands gripping your bag in frustration as you frown - you should’ve never let your guard down - of course Luke would be here, this is his house too. Jack just grins, unfazed as ever as he walks towards you, his hands landing on your hips as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“I mean I’m surprised we didn’t get caught earlier if he was here the whole time,” Jack starts, and you shove him off you as you realise where his words are about to go. 

“Don’t say it.” 

“You were pretty loud last night, if I do say so myself.” 

“You said it.” You huff as his teasing words, unable to ignore the burning rising up your neck, you shoot him a glance over your shoulder, shoving the rest of your stuff into your bag before turning to face him - Jack still looking like he wants to do nothing more then drag you back into his bed - an easy smile on his face.  You scoff at his bright smile, shoving him again before spinning toward the door, your heart still pounding from the close call. “I need to leave before my brother finds out and buries your body under the ice at the rink.” Jack chuckles, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression—something that makes you pause for half a second. 

Before you can place it, he speaks again, his voice softer than before. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if he knew— maybe we should tell him before things get out of hand.”

Your stomach tightens.

You shake your head, refusing to acknowledge the weight behind those words. That’s not what this is. This isn’t supposed to be complicated. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, nothing more.

“Tell him what,” you finally say, forcing a casual tone as you reach for the doorknob. “‘Hey curtis I’ve been fucking your sister for months and thought I should just let you know because I want to keep doing it just not in secret’.” You drop your voice in a bad impression of Jack, letting out a long sigh as you dismiss the idea, “It’s not going to happen, Jack.” Jack’s eyes darken slightly, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. You slip out of the room as quietly as possible, your pulse racing as you make your way down the hallway.

You send a quick nod to Luke who is perched by the kitchen counter sipping from his water bottle - “You’re continued silence is much appreciated.” You coo towards him as you slide into your shoes, the youngest Hughes brother shrugging. 

“He’d kill me too if he knew I knew - consider it for my own protection.” Luke hums, giving you a small wave as you slip out of the apartment. You let out an exhausted sigh as you get into the empty hallway - you shouldn’t be feeling like this—like you just barely escaped something dangerous. It’s just Jack. Just an ongoing mistake you keep making because, well…

You can’t seem to stop yourself. Something about Jack pulls you back each and every time you think of finishing things. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out, already knowing who it’ll be.

The Devil 😈: Next time, you should stay till I get back. We could ‘discuss’ things more

You roll your eyes, but your fingers hesitate over the keyboard.

Stay till I get back. 

Like it’s normal. 

Like everything about this is normal. 

You shove your phone back into your pocket without replying, picking up your pace as you head toward your car.

This has to end.

But deep down, you already know the truth: It won’t.

You don’t text him back.

Not that day. 

Not the next. 

Not for an entire week.

You tell yourself it’s for the best. That if you give yourself enough space, enough time, the pull toward him will lessen. That the way he makes you feel—like you’re skidding too close to the edge of something dangerous—will eventually fade.

But then Friday night rolls around, and you’re sitting on your bed, staring at your phone like an idiot, pretending you don’t know exactly what you’re waiting for.

“Are you coming over after the game tonight, pretty girl?”  You mimic, your same bad impression coming to the surface as you glare at your blank home screen. 

“Hey, are you coming to the game tonight? Renee can’t make it any more and I have that ticket.” Your brother knocks on the door the your room - well the spare room - poking his head in as he takes in your body sprawled across the bed, your gaze shooting up at him in surprise, as you body jumps a little, your hands automatically tucking your phone under your pillow as he lets out a soft chuckle. 

“I assume she didn’t get a chance to ask you.” He jokes, he already has his game day suit on - making you look so much worse in your pizza stained pyjamas. 

“I haven’t seen her all day.” You respond, confirming his suspicions that his wife never got the chance to ask if you want to go. “But I’m down if you can wait fifteen minutes to give me a ride?’ You say hopefully, a smile lighting up your face to mimic your brothers, his head nodding quickly as he shoots you an unsure glance. 

“I’ll give you twenty - you look like a mess.” He says with a grimace. 

“Ha Ha, very funny Curtis.” You sneer, sliding off the bed and shutting the door in his face as you glance around the room at any available clothing that might be lying around, “I knew I should’ve done laundry.” You manage to find some relatively clean jeans, and a cozy red hoodie, tugging them both on as you comb your fingers through your hair before securing it to the back of your head with a claw clip just as Curtis calls for you by the front door. 

“Are you coming or should I just assume you’ve died in your own filth?” He calls, your eyes rolling as you yank your purse of the back of the door, bolting down the stairs to meet your brother by the car. 

“My filth has not overcome me, as you can see.” You hiss as you slide into the passenger seat, your brother sending you an amused glance before pulling out of the driveway - the ride to the arena being relatively silent aside from the kids bop covers Curtis refused to turn off - you’ve never been more glad to get out a car then you were as he pulled into his spot at the prudential centre. 

“You know Luke was asking about you earlier today…” Curtis starts as you both slide out of the car, your brows furrowing as you look towards him, “Yeah, he was asking if you were coming today - said there was something he wanted to talk to you about.” Curtis continues, a knowing grin spreading on his face. 

“I don’t know why.” You say quickly, hiking your bag further up your shoulder as you glance over at him, the two of you making your way into the building. 

“Neither, but he’s a good kid.” Curtis starts, “Wouldn’t be mad if there was something going on between you two.” He adds, your brows raising in surprise jack’s words slicing through your head. 

I wouldn’t mind if he knew. 

“At least he’s nothing like his brother Jack, god he’s a piece of work.” Curtis cuts through your thoughts, “Don’t get me wrong, I love the kid but don’t even bother with someone like him — all he’ll do is break your heart.” He says quickly, your thoughts deflating quickly as you just nod along. 

After your joyous heart to heart with your brother, you find yourself standing outside the locker room, shifting on your feet as you wait. The hallway is buzzing with players walking in and out, staff moving quickly through the space, and the occasional fan sneaking glances inside. You’re distracted, lost in thought, when a passing player jostles you, your feet losing their place as you stumble, trying to catch yourself before ultimately giving up and just bracing for impact. 

“Woah, gotcha.” a pair of large hands grip your waist, steadying you. You blink up at Luke holding you upright, his hands firm against your sides. His expression is amused as you steady yourself, your fingers lightly gripping his forearm for balance. 

“Timo you gotta be more careful, we’ve got precious cargo over here.” Luke shouts down the hallway - a murmured ’sorry’ shot your way as the large Swiss player continues on his way. 

“Thanks, I really thought I was gonna eat shit for a second there.” You joke, Luke’s hands still firm on your waist until he’s sure you’ve caught your balance again and quickly releases you. 

“No problem - I swear you’re clumsier than me.” 

“Only when hockey players shove past me like I’m invisible.” you reply dryly, Luke chuckles as he helps you dust of the invisible dirt all over your clothes, “So, my brother said you were asking about me today?” You start, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise a brow towards the youngest Hughes brother. 

“Oh, yeah.” Luke starts slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh, “It’s just were trying to plan this congratulations party for Jack for making team USA and I was hoping you’d be able to make an appearance?” Luke explains, your eyes widening in surprise as your gaze shoots over where you are to look for signs of your brother - you grab hold of Lukes arm dragging him closer to the wall as you whisper. 

“I can’t go if Curtis is going to be there - it’s going to be too suspicious.” Luke lowers his head as the two of you continue your oh so secret conversation, not noticing the ever darkening presence coming up the hallway - their focus trained entirely on you and his younger brother huddled in the corner. 

“Curtis isn’t going - that’s the best part.” Luke starts, “He said he’s never support his teammates betrayal of Canda and to count him out.” He expands, your head nodding - it does sound exactly like something your brother would say - “Besides do you think I’m dumb enough to invite you and your brother, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I know how to keep a secret.” You nod again, your grip releasing on Luke’s sleeve as you glance around the hallway, your eyes locking with Jack’s glaring blue ones as you step away from his brother. 

“Send me the details.” You say quickly, as you motion for Luke to glance over his shoulder, the boy jumping as his older brother slides up besides him. Jack’s grip on his duffel bag flexes before he steps forward, his movements deliberate. 

“You ready for the game?” Jack asks Luke, his voice even, but there’s a rough edge to it that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah, man, almost,” Luke replies casually, but even he seems to pick up on the change in Jack’s demeanour. Jack doesn’t acknowledge you at first, his gaze lingering on Luke for a second too long. Then, finally, his eyes flick to you, filled with something unreadable. “Just catching up with the littlest Lazar before the game.” He jokes, slinging his arm over your shoulder, definitely not catching the tension simmering off his older brother. 

Jack glances between the two of you again before marching off towards the locker rooms, Luke letting out a deep exhale as you push his arm off your shoulder. “Do you think he heard?” 

“Luke, I don’t think that’s your biggest problem.” 

+

+

The energy in the arena is electric. The crowd roars as the players hit the ice, the sharp scrape of skates against the surface sending a thrill through your spine. The Devils are locked in an intense battle against their rivals, the game fast and aggressive. You try not to focus too hard on Jack, but it’s impossible. Every time he’s on the ice, your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet.

He plays with the same recklessness he carries everywhere else in his life—fearless, fast, and a maybe little too confident. And for a while, it’s working. He’s everywhere, setting up plays, taking shots, chirping at the other team like he was born for it.

But then it happens.

It’s late in the second period when Jack takes a bad hit. You see it the second it unfolds—his body angled just slightly off balance when he gets checked hard into the boards, his body crumpling to the ice as he holds onto his side, his head pressing against the floor as he pulls himself on his knees. 

Your stomach lurches.

Jack stays down longer than he should, and the entire arena holds its breath. He shifts, attempting to push himself up, but it’s clear something’s off. Trainers rush onto the ice, helping him upright as he tries to shake them off, but you can tell from your seat—he’s rattled.

“Shit,” Nico mutters beside you - the captain still on the injury reserve after his own set back on the ice a few weeks ago - his jaw tight as he watches his teammate get escorted off the ice. You feel his eyes flick toward you, and you force yourself to stay still, to not react too obviously.

It doesn’t matter though, your pulse is hammering and all you can think about is whether Jack is okay. Everyone watches as Jack disappears down the tunnel, and you’re on your feet before you can think twice about it. “I’m gonna go grab some water,” you tell Nico hastily, ignoring the way his eyes narrow slightly at you.

You don’t give him a chance to question it before you slip into the crowd, heading straight for the hallway leading to the locker rooms. Security is tight, but you know enough people, recognise enough faces, that nobody stops you as you weave through the chaos. When you push past the door leading into the medical area, Jack is sitting on the exam table, his head down as a trainer checks him over. His jersey is half off, revealing the sheen of sweat on his skin, deep bruising already forming along his ribs. His hair is damp with sweat, and there’s a frustrated set to his jaw that tells you he’s pissed—at the hit, at himself, at the entire situation.

He doesn’t notice you at first, too focused on whatever the trainer is saying. But when the door clicks shut behind you, his head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours. Something flickers across his face—surprise, then something softer, something unreadable.

“You checking in on me, pretty girl?” Jack’s voice is slightly hoarse, his usual cockiness tempered by the clear ache he’s feeling. You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room, ignoring the way your heart clenches at the sight of him like this. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, arms crossing over your chest. “Just making sure you’re not dead. Luke would be devastated.” Jack huffs out a laugh, wincing slightly as the trainer adjusts the ice pack. 

“Yeah, Luke would be torn up.” He tilts his head slightly, looking at you from under damp lashes. “But what about you?”

You scoff, shifting on your feet, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze. “I’d be mildly inconvenienced.”

Jack grins, and despite the swelling starting on his cheek, he still somehow looks impossibly good. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

The trainer clears his throat, looking between the two of you before stepping back. “You need to sit out the rest of the game,” he tells Jack firmly. “I’ll let Coach know.” Jack groans but doesn’t argue, his gaze never leaving you. The trainer slips out, leaving you alone with him. The silence that settles is thick, charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“You didn’t text me back.” Jack’s voice is quieter now, more serious.

“I panicked.” You shift your weight, your pulse quickening. “And I didn’t think there was anything to say.”

Jack studies you for a moment before shaking his head with a small, humourless chuckle. “Bullshit.”

Your stomach tightens. “Jack—”

“No,” he cuts you off, pushing himself up slightly, wincing but ignoring it. “You keep acting like this is just some stupid game, like none of this means anything, but we both know that’s not true.”

Your breath catches, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

Jack lets out a sharp exhale, his frustration evident. “Or maybe you’re making things easier then they actually are.”

“This has to end eventually, right?” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

Jack’s gaze darkens, his fingers flexing against his knee. “Do you want it to?” You don’t answer immediately, because the truth is, you don’t know. “Is this because of Luke?” His question surprises you, your head tilting in confusion as he shakes his head slowly, “Never mind.” He shifts slightly, wincing as he moves, but his eyes stay locked onto yours. “You can keep pretending you can’t feel what’s right in front of your face, you can keep telling yourself it’s just a mistake,” he says, voice low, steady. “But we both know you’ll be back.”

Your stomach twists because he’s right.

He always is.

+

+

The party is already in full swing by the time you arrive - a chorus of cheers as you step through the door, each of the boys giving you a slight nod as you walk by them and into the Hughes brothers kitchen, the bottle of water in the cooler calling your name. 

“Oh, hey you made it.” Lukes voice carries through the kitchen, the lankiest Hughes shoving his way over to you, moving his teammates out of the way as he grabs his own drink from the cooler, leaning a hip against the counter as he smiles down at you. “I wasn’t sure you’d still come, Jack said it’s been a week or two since you two—” Luke hesitates, pursing his lip as he thinks for the right word, “talked.” He finishes, smiling as he takes a sip from his drink as you let out a low groan. 

“It felt wrong not to at least show my face.” You agree, rolling your eyes at looks teasing glance, his eyes locking on something over your shoulder, his face dropping quickly as he clears his throat. 

“Oh Curtis, what’re you doing here? I thought Canadians had no place in a team USA party.” Luke’s voice sends a shot of panic down your spine, a fake smile plastered on your face as you turn to face your older brother, who in return looks at you in confusion. 

“I wasn’t going to come to a filthy USA party but what kind of teammate would that make me?” Curtis teases, his arm slinging on your shoulder as he turns his attention down to you, questions in his gaze, “and it looks like I’m not the only Canadian here.” You let out a soft chuckle as you shuck your brothers arm off your shoulder, sending a pleading glance towards Luke. 

You hadn’t expected him to be here, and judging by the way Luke suddenly finds his drink fascinating, neither had he.

“Yeah, well,” you say, shrugging off his arm as casually as possible, “someone’s gotta get the inside scoop.” Curtis chuckles, but his gaze lingers on you a second too long, like he’s trying to piece something together. You don’t give him the chance, instead you decide that water’s just not going to cut it and reach to grab another drink from the cooler and twist the cap off, taking a slow sip as you scan the room.

You shouldn’t have.

Jack’s already looking at you.

He’s leaning against the far wall, a beer dangling from his fingertips, his darkened gaze locked on you with an intensity that makes your skin heat. He doesn’t move, doesn’t break eye contact, and for a moment, everything else—the music, the bodies pressed together in the living room, the weight of your brother standing too close—fades away.

You swallow hard, willing your pulse to settle, but the way Jack’s lips twitch, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, only makes it worse.

“Hey, you good?” Curtis’ voice pulls you back, his brows drawn together in concern. “You disappeared for a second there.” 

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to look away. “Yeah, just tired from all my spying.” He doesn’t look convinced, but before he can push, a few of his teammates call his name, giving you the perfect excuse to step back. “I’m gonna grab some air,” you say, already moving. The night air is cool against your skin as you step outside onto the back deck, inhaling deeply as you press your palms against the railing. The music inside is muffled, just a low thrum beneath the distant hum of traffic and the occasional burst of laughter from the party still raging inside. But out here, it’s quieter—easier to breathe.

At least, it should be.

You can still feel the weight of Jack’s gaze from across the room, the way he looked at you like he already knew you’d end up here. Like he knew you’d run.

You close your eyes for a moment, tilting your head back as you exhale slowly, trying to shake the tension coiling in your chest. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You knew that coming would make things so much harder to avoid, to pretend like nothing was going on and yet here you were, standing outside during the congratulations for your achievement party of your fuck buddy.The door creaks open behind you, your thought spiral pausing as you take a long sip for your drink and even before he speaks, you know who it is.

“What are you doing here?” Jack’s voice is rough, edged with something you can’t quite place.

“It was too noisy in there.” You comment, not missing the way Jack lets out a soft chuckle. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” 

You straighten but don’t turn around, keeping your hands braced against the railing. “I was invited.”

“That’s still not what I meant, I know you were invited. ” His footsteps are slow, deliberate, and then he’s next to you, close enough that the heat of his body seeps into yours despite the cool air. “So why did you come?”

You huff out a breath, finally turning to face him. “Does it matter?” Jack lets out a quiet, humourless laugh, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his already-messy hair. He looks frustrated, but more than that—he looks desperate.

“It matters,” he says, voice quieter now, like he’s afraid of what you might say. “It fucking matters to me.”

Your stomach twists, fingers tightening against the railing as you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Jack, don’t do this.”

His jaw flexes, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Do what?”

“I didn’t come here to fight with you.” You can’t help the sigh that falls from your lips, “don’t make this into something it’s not meant to be.” 

Jack exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

You stiffen. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit,” he repeats, stepping closer. “You’re acting like you didn’t come here for the same reason I asked Luke to invite you—you think you can just pretend like there is nothing between us and I can tell that it’s killing you inside” He scoffs, his eyes flashing in the dim light. “You really think we can just go back to pretending like we were nothing after this?”

You swallow hard, your pulse pounding against your ribs. “I never thought we were nothing.” Jack’s expression falters for a split second before he recovers, stepping in even closer until there’s barely any space left between you. 

“Then what are we?” You don’t answer, because you don’t know how. Because if you say it out loud, it becomes real. Jack studies you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for something—anything. And then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it—

“I want us to be something real.”

Your breath catches, your fingers digging into the railing behind you.

Jack takes a shaky breath, his voice lower now, raw. “I know what we agreed to in the beginning but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be just some guy you used to sleep with. I don’t want to be the mistake you try to forget.”

Your throat feels tight, your chest aching with something you don’t know how to name. “Jack—”

“No,” he interrupts, his hands flexing at his sides like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. “Just tell me. If you really don’t feel anything—if this really was just some casual thing to you—tell me, and I’ll walk away.”His voice drops even lower, barely more than a whisper. “But if there’s even a chance—” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “If there’s even a part of you that feels the same way, just—don’t lie to me.” You look away, staring at the ground, because it’s easier than looking at him. 

Because if you meet his eyes, you’ll break.

Jack lets out a slow breath, nodding like he’s already bracing for the worst. “Okay,” he murmurs, barely audible. “I get it.”

He turns like he’s about to walk away, and something in you panics. Before you can stop yourself, your fingers curl around his wrist. Jack freezes. His breath is uneven when he turns back to you, his gaze darting from your hand on his skin to your face. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so hard you think he might be able to hear it.

And then, finally— “I don’t want you to walk away.” Jack exhales, his eyes closing for a brief moment, like he’s trying to keep himself together. When he opens them again, they’re filled with something so intense, so devastatingly real, it nearly knocks the air from your lungs.

He steps closer, his free hand hesitating for only a second before he cups your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

“Then don’t make me.” His voice is barely a whisper now, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “Just let me in.” Jack’s breath hitches when you don’t pull away. His fingers tighten slightly where they rest against your jaw, like he’s grounding himself, like he can’t quite believe you’re here, letting this happen. Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, your hand still curled around his wrist, keeping him close. For once, you don’t have the energy to fight it—to fight him. Jack shifts slightly, tilting his head just enough that his nose brushes against yours. His lips part, his breath warm against your skin. He’s so close.

 Just a little more and—

“What the fuck is this?” The sharp voice shatters the moment like glass. You jolt back, your pulse spiking as your head snaps toward the open doorway.

Curtis.

Your brother stands just inside the threshold, arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mixture of shock and pure, unfiltered anger. His dark eyes are locked onto Jack, his posture stiff, radiating hostility.

Shit.

Jack straightens but doesn’t step away from you. His jaw clenches as he meets Curtis’ glare, his whole body suddenly tense, like he’s already preparing for whatever’s coming — his body covering most of you as he lets out a soft groan.

“Curtis,” you start, stepping around Jack, but he shakes his head sharply, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Oh, don’t fucking ‘Curtis’ me,” he snaps, his gaze flicking between you and Jack. “What the hell is going on here?” You swallow hard, feeling like a kid caught doing something they shouldn’t. 

“It’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me.” Curtis’ voice is tight, low with barely restrained anger. His eyes burn into yours, waiting for an answer, for some kind of explanation that won’t make him want to deck Jack right here and now.

Jack exhales sharply, finally turning to face your brother, stepping forwards and putting himself slightly in front of you. “It’s not exactly what you think.”

Curtis scoffs, his expression twisting. “Oh, really? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like you’re messing around with my sister.”

Jack’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down. “It’s not like that.”

Curtis lets out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Because you’re such a committed guy, huh, Hughes? Never had a casual thing in your life?” He takes a step forward, his body language shifting from disbelief to outright anger. “Are you fucking serious?My sister?”

“Curtis—” you try, but he barely even spares you a glance.

“This is what you’ve been sneaking around for?” His voice rises, his gaze locked on you now, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Jack fucking Hughes?” He shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Jesus Christ.”

Jack takes another step closer, his voice firm. “Neither of us is sneaking around.”

Curtis’ head snaps toward him, his expression thunderous. “No? Then what the fuck do you call this?”

Jack doesn’t flinch. “I care about her.”

Curtis lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. “You care about her?” He gestures between the two of you, his voice laced with disbelief. “What, like you care about all the other girls you’ve been with?”

Jack’s nostrils flare, his whole body going rigid. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” Curtis glares at him, stepping in close enough that they’re nearly chest to chest. “What’s not fair is you treating my little sister like she’s just another one of your hookups.”

Jack’s eyes darken, his fingers twitching at his sides like he’s forcing himself to stay still. His voice is low when he speaks, steady but sharp. “She’s not.”

Curtis scoffs. “Yeah? Then what the hell is she?”

Jack doesn’t hesitate. “She’s everything.” The air between them crackles with tension.

Curtis’ expression falters for half a second before his hands curl into fists, his whole body coiled like a spring. His gaze flickers to you, his jaw tight. “You actually believe this shit?”

You exhale slowly, meeting his eyes. “I—” You hesitate, your throat tightening. “It’s not that simple.” 

Curtis barks out a laugh, taking a step back and raking a hand through his hair. “Not that simple,” he repeats, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Jack shakes his head, his voice edged with frustration. “Look, man, I know this isn’t what you wanted—”

“No, you don’t know,” Curtis snaps, turning back toward him. “You don’t get it, Jack. She’s not—” He cuts himself off, his eyes flickering toward you for the briefest moment before he shakes his head. “She’s not one of them.”

Jack’s expression hardens. “I know that.”

Curtis lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you?”

Jack steps closer again, his voice rough, his whole body radiating tension. “I’m not playing games with her.”

Curtis narrows his eyes. “You really think you’re good enough for her?”

Jack’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t back down. “I don’t know,” he admits, voice tight. “But I know I’m not gonna walk away just because you don’t like it.”

Curtis stares at him, something unreadable flashing across his face. Then, suddenly, his shoulders shift, and before you can react, he’s moving.

“Curtis—!” you shout, but it’s too late.

His fist flies before either of you can stop it. It connects with Jack’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending his head whipping to the side, Jack barely reacting beyond a sharp inhale. He exhales, his jaw tightening as he lifts a hand to his face, his fingers brushing over the fresh bruise forming just below his cheekbone, a small cut on his cheek from Curtis’s wedding band.

He lets out a slow, steady breath before straightening.

He doesn’t hit back.

Curtis shakes out his hand, his breaths heavy. “Stay the fuck away from her,” he grits out.

Jack wipes at his lip, where a small bead of blood is forming, then lifts his gaze to Curtis—calm, steady. “That’s not your call to make.”

Curtis’ jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring. His gaze flicks toward you, his expression still tight with anger. “Come on. We’re leaving.” You hesitate, glancing at Jack. He’s already looking at you, his eyes soft despite the tension still simmering in the air. And that’s when you realise—he’s waiting for you to decide.

Curtis sees it, too.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “You can’t be serious.” Your pulse pounds. Jack doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his face unreadable but open, waiting, he wants you to make the choice. 

Leave now with your brother and this whole thing is over or stay. 

“You should go, Curtis.” You finally say, a glare focused on your brother as you slip your hand into Jacks, his fingers gripping yours for dear life, “You’ve done enough damage for one day, we can talk about this later.” You conclude tugging Jack behind you as you both slip inside, your hand guiding him through the crowd as you avoid his teammates questioning stares as you shove open the bathroom door slamming it behind the both of you with a click of the lock. 

Jack leans against the bathroom door, exhaling sharply, his fingers still wrapped tightly around yours, his jaw tight. His chest rises and falls with controlled breaths, though the slight tremor in his hands betrays just how hard he’s trying to keep himself together.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, but no less intense.

You shake your head, your heart still pounding against your ribs. “Yes, I did.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable before he exhales, running a hand through his constantly messy hair. “Curtis might actually fucking kill me.”

You huff out a short, humourless laugh. “Well, considering he already got one good shot in, I’d say he’s off to a great start.” Jack winces as he touches his jaw, the skin already bruising from the hit. You step closer without thinking, your fingers reaching out before you can stop yourself. Jack stills, his gaze locking onto yours as your fingertips ghost over the tender skin.

“You should put some ice on it,” you murmur.

Jack doesn’t move. His breath is warm against your skin, his body still tense but rooted in place. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, but this time, there’s something else in his voice. Something almost vulnerable.

“I know.” Your fingers trace lightly along the forming bruise, and Jack exhales, his eyes fluttering shut for half a second before they snap open again, pinning you in place.

A beat of silence stretches between you, heavy and electric.

Then, suddenly, he moves. One second, he’s standing there, looking at you like he’s fighting every instinct screaming at him to touch you, and the next, his hands are on your waist, his fingers gripping you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath fanning over your skin. “Please tell me to stop.”

You don’t. You can’t. Instead, you reach up, your fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair as you tug him down to you. Jack doesn’t hesitate. He crashes into you, his lips slanting over yours with a desperation that makes your knees weak.

The kiss is anything but gentle. It’s raw, urgent—like he’s been holding himself back for too long and he can’t anymore. His hands slide up your sides, pressing you against the door, pinning you between him and the cool wood as his lips move against yours like he’s trying to memorise the way you taste, the way you feel beneath his hands.

You gasp against his mouth, and Jack takes full advantage, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss until you feel dizzy from it. One of his hands moves up, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your head just right, devouring every sound you make like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, his voice hoarse, almost wrecked. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”

You do. Because you’ve wanted him just as much.

Jack groans softly as you tug at his shirt, your fingers slipping beneath the hem, pressing against the warm skin of his stomach.

His muscles flex under your touch, and he leans into you more, like he can’t get close enough.

Someone bangs on the door. “Occupied,” Jack snaps, barely breaking away from your lips before kissing you again, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting you slightly as he presses you tighter against the door.

Your head is spinning, your skin buzzing, and you know you should stop—should at least slow down—but then Jack pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Tell me this is real,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming out in uneven pants. “Tell me I’m not making a fucking idiot of myself here.”

Your chest tightens. “Jack—”

“Tell me you want this as much as I do.” His voice is barely a whisper now, but the weight of it crashes into you like a tidal wave.

You reach up, cupping his face gently, your thumbs brushing over the bruise already forming on his cheekbone.

“I do,” you admit, your voice steady despite the way your heart hammers in your chest. “I do, Jack.”

The relief that washes over his face is immediate. He lets out a breath he must have been holding, his grip on you softening just slightly before he kisses you again—slower this time, but just as intense, just as desperate. Like he’s trying to make up for all the time you’ve wasted pretending this wasn’t inevitable. 

Jack’s hands move lower, fingers brushing the hem of your dress before slipping beneath, calloused fingertips dragging along the sensitive skin of your thighs. The touch is light at first, almost hesitant, but when you let out a soft gasp, pressing closer, he groans.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his lips trailing down your jaw, nipping at the skin just beneath your ear. “You’re gonna kill me.”

His hand slides higher, knuckles teasing along the crease where your thigh meets your hip, and you shudder at the contact. Jack tilts his head, watching your face as his fingers move, testing, teasing, until he finally slips them beneath the fabric of your underwear.

You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders, and he groans at the feeling. “Already so wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice rough, full of something that makes heat pool low in your stomach. “God, you’re perfect.”

His fingers find your clit, circling in slow, deliberate strokes, sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. Your head tips back against the door, a soft moan slipping from your lips, and Jack swallows the sound with a heated kiss, his movements never stopping, never slowing.

He presses against you, his free hand gripping your waist to keep you steady as he works against your clit, firmer this time. “We don’t have our supplies.” He whispers against the skin of your neck, pulling his fingers away as you let out a whine at the loss of sensation. 

“Jack—” Your voice is breathless, needy, and he shushes you with another kiss, his lips curling into a smirk against yours.

“I know, but it’s going to hurt you.” He grumbles, distracting you by sucking on your neck, sliding your underwear back into place as you shake your head. 

“It’s okay.” You coo, pulling his face away from your skin to look in his eyes. “It’ll only hurt for a little bit.” 

Jack’s expression shifts the moment the words leave your lips. That heat, that hunger—it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface—but something softer overtakes it. Concern. His fingers trace slow, absentminded circles on your thigh, grounding you.

“Baby,” he murmurs, voice gentler now, “I know you’re saying that, but I don’t want you hurting just to give me something.” Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat. He knows. Of course he does. You’d told him before, in hushed conversations that never felt like they mattered as much as they do now.

“I want this, Jack,” you say, and it’s the truth. But still, your body hums with the familiar tension of anticipation—of wanting and fearing in equal measure.

Jack tilts his head, watching you like he’s searching for something. Then, slowly, he leans in, pressing the softest of kisses to your lips. “Let me help, okay?” Your breath shudders out of you as he kisses a slow path down your jaw, his hands shifting—one pressing against the small of your back, the other slipping between your thighs again, fingers teasing along the damp fabric of your underwear.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, but there’s no rush in his movements now. “That’s good, baby. That’s gonna help.”

You nod, exhaling shakily. Jack hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down carefully, like he’s giving you time to change your mind. When you don’t, he kneels slightly, lifting one of your thighs over his so he can settle between your legs.

Then you watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, tongue flicking out to wet them before lowering his hand back down, dragging the slick digits along your entrance. The difference is immediate. Where tension had been bracing you for pain, Jack’s touch eases the worst of it, slick warmth helping him slide against you with more ease.

You whimper as his fingers stroke slow, deliberate circles around your entrance, never pushing, never rushing. Jack groans softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “That feel better?”

You nod, breathless.

“Good,” he rasps, lips brushing against yours as he moves again, teasing at your opening until, finally, he slides one finger inside. The stretch is there—but it’s different this time. Less sting, more pressure, more of the sweet, aching fullness you’d always wanted to enjoy without the pain. Jack watches your face the entire time, eyes dark and careful, his free hand stroking soothingly over your side. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” You exhale, body relaxing a little more, and Jack presses a kiss to your temple. 

“We don’t have to rush,” he murmurs. “I just want to make you feel good. You tell me if anything doesn’t.” His words pull a soft laugh from your throat as you glance around the small bathroom, the sound of music playing just outside reminding you exactly where you are.  Jack keeps his pace slow, his touch deliberate. He watches every shift in your expression, every shudder of your breath, like you’re the most important thing in the world.

And to him, maybe you are.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as he moves his finger inside you, testing, gauging your reaction. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise sends a different kind of warmth through you, pooling in your stomach. You exhale shakily, fingers curling into his shoulders. “Jack…”

He groans at the way you say his name, tilting his head to capture your lips again. This kiss is different—deeper, slower, laced with the same patience he’s giving the rest of you. His free hand strokes up your side, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. After a moment, his movements pause. “Can I try another?” His voice is hushed, full of care, and he doesn’t move until you give him a small nod. Jack swears under his breath when he slides another finger in, moving with even more caution now, waiting for any sign of discomfort. There’s a stretch, a pressure—but not the sharp, stinging pain you were bracing for.

“Still okay?” he asks, his forehead pressed to yours.

You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Mhm.” Jack exhales like he’s been holding his breath, kissing you again, his fingers moving in slow, careful strokes, coaxing pleasure from you with practiced patience.

 “That’s my girl,” he breathes against your lips. The words make your stomach tighten, pleasure curling low as he works you open, his touch easing some of the tension you didn’t realise you were still holding. Jack shifts, dragging his fingers back just enough to tease at your entrance before pushing in again, curling just right, and a soft moan escapes you before you can stop it.

His lips curl into a smirk against your skin. “There we go,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with approval. “That’s what I wanna hear.” Your cheeks burn, but Jack just kisses you again, deeper this time, like he wants to pull every sound from your lips.

“See?” he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek. “We’ll take our time. I’ll take care of you.” And with the way he’s touching you, the way he’s watching you so intently, so carefully—

You believe him.

Jack’s fingers work you open with slow, careful precision, never pushing too far, never rushing. His lips brush against your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—small, grounding touches that keep you from slipping too far into your own head.

And it’s working.

The usual tension, the worry that pain will creep in and ruin the moment, is fading. Replaced by something warmer, something sweeter. Pleasure unfurls in slow, steady waves as Jack curls his fingers inside you just right, stroking against that sensitive spot that has your breath catching in your throat.

“Jack—” His name slips out, breathless, needy, and he groans like the sound alone could undo him.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his thumb circling your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. “You feel okay?”

You nod, your fingers digging into his shoulders, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of him. “Better then okay.” You hum.

Jack smiles, tilting his head so his nose brushes yours. “I want you to let go for me,” he whispers. “Don’t hold back.” You exhale shakily, thighs trembling as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach. Jack keeps his pace steady, keeps his lips moving against yours, swallowing every little gasp, every whimper, every soft moan like they belong to him.

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, his voice rough with want. “So beautiful when you fall apart for me.” His words, his touch, the way he’s looking at you—it’s too much. The coil in your stomach snaps, pleasure crashing over you in warm, shuddering waves. Jack groans as he feels you tighten around his fingers, his movements slowing but never stopping, working you through it, letting you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, kissing you slow, deep, reverent. “Such a pretty girl.” Your body trembles against him, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as the aftershocks leave you warm, pliant in his arms. Jack pulls his fingers from you carefully, bringing them to his lips without breaking eye contact, sucking them clean with a low groan.

The sight sends another shiver through you.

Jack smirks, kissing you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Told you I’d take care of you.” Jack doesn’t let go of you. Even as you tremble, breathless from the high he just pulled from you, he keeps his hands on your hips, grounding you, stroking soft, soothing circles into your skin.

“You still with me, baby?” His voice is rough, but there’s nothing but tenderness in the way he presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

You nod, exhaling shakily. “Yeah.”

Jack hums in approval, his lips curling into a grin against your skin. “Good.” His hands skim down, gripping your thighs, your waist, pulling you flush against him so you can feel exactly how hard he still is.

Your breath catches.

Jack groans at the way your body reacts, his fingers flexing on your skin. “Fuck,” he mutters. “We need to leave— I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” He mumbles, his pupils blown as he looks down at you, the anxiety in your chest easing as you place your hands gently on the sides of his face, shooting him the most reassuring smile you can muster. 

“I want you inside of me.” You almost laugh at the way Jack chokes a little, his mouth falling open as he tries to shake his head, “I’m serious, Jack. I trust you.” His mouth opens and closes, the words failing him as he moves to pull away, your hands holding him steadily, “Please fuck me, Jack.” He doesn’t need you to say anything else before he’s positioning you in front of the mirror with practiced ease. He stands behind you, his body pressed against yours, his hands roaming slow and deliberate.

“Look at yourself,” he murmurs, dragging his lips over the shell of your ear. “Look how perfect you are for me.”

Your cheeks burn, but Jack doesn’t let you turn away. His hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, pushing it up inch by inch until he can pull it over your head, leaving you bare.

“Fuck,” he groans, eyes raking over you in the reflection. His hands slide over your stomach, your thighs, possessive and reverent all at once. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

One hand drifts lower, between your legs, teasing, testing. His breath shudders as he feels how wet you still are.

“You still want this?” His voice is hoarse, strained with restraint.

You meet his gaze in the mirror, your own breath coming in uneven pants. “Yes.” Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment before he steps back just enough to push his jeans down, kicking them aside. Then, he does something that has your stomach twisting with anticipation.

He lifts his hand, palm up, and looks at you through the mirror, his lips curving into a lazy, knowing smirk. “Spit in my hand, baby.” Heat floods through you at the request, at the rasp of his voice, dark and needy. You hesitate for only a second before doing as he asks, watching as your spit pools in his palm. Jack groans, eyes darkening as he brings his hand down, slicking himself up with slow, teasing strokes. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he mutters, squeezing the base of his cock before lining himself up behind you.

His free hand returns to your waist, gripping you firmly as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear. “Keep watching,” he murmurs, voice thick with need.

Then, he pushes in.

The stretch is slow, careful, but still enough to steal the breath from your lungs, your eyes squeezing shut as he rubs a soft hand over your back. Jack groans, his fingers tightening on your waist as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes, forehead pressing to the back of your shoulder.  You whimper, fingers gripping the edge of the counter as your body adjusts, the fullness almost overwhelming. Jack stills, holding himself back, his other hand continuing to rub slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“You okay?” His voice is softer now, laced with patience, with care.

You swallow, exhaling a shaky breath before nodding. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Move, Jack.” 

Jack pulls back slightly before thrusting in again, setting a slow, deliberate pace, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Look at how good you take me.” And when you do—when you see the way your bodies fit together, the way he holds you so tightly, like he never wants to let go—

Jack's thrusts become deeper, more urgent, his fingers digging into your hips as he chases his own release, and you can feel the tension building again—an undeniable pull, something that tells you this is where everything is supposed to fall into place. Your breath quickens, your hands gripping the counter so tightly you think your knuckles might crack, but you don’t care. It’s all heat and friction, and the way he fills you, the way his body presses against yours—it’s all so perfect, so desperate.

And then, suddenly, a sharp knock on the door breaks through the haze of desire.

"Hey," a voice calls from the other side, cutting through the charged silence like a knife. "Can you guys not fuck in the bathroom?"

Your body freezes, Jack’s movements halting just as quickly. You both stare at the door, eyes wide, hearts still racing, but now, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief swirling inside you.

"Luke," Jack groans, his voice thick with frustration, his forehead resting against the back of your shoulder. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

The voice on the other side of the door doesn't sound particularly concerned. "I’m just saying," Luke continues, "there’s a whole party out here. The bathroom's not your private fuck zone."

You can't help it. You burst into a laugh, your body shaking with the absurdity of it all. Jack lets out a low groan, pulling out slowly and backing away from you, frustration and amusement both warring on his face.

"Alright," Jack says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We’ll wrap it up, Luke, just give us a damn second." You turn to face Jack, both of you still catching your breath, and you share a look, the tension from the moment still hanging thick in the air—but now, at least, it’s softened by the ridiculousness of Luke’s timing.

"Can you believe that?" you laugh, wiping a tear from your eye.

Jack shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Only you and I would get interrupted in the middle of something like this."

Another knock.

"Seriously, guys! The party’s waiting. Come on!"

You both laugh again, the situation breaking the heavy atmosphere as you gather yourselves, still breathless but with a grin. “Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, reaching for your clothes. “We’ll be out in a minute, Luke. Don’t start a riot.”

As you both adjust yourselves, Jack leans in for one last kiss, soft and full of promise.

"I guess we’ll just have to finish this later," he murmurs against your lips.

You smile, a playful glint in your eyes. "You better believe it." Jack pauses for a moment his eyes catching his own reflection in the mirror as he winces lightly. 

“I really hope your brother isn’t still here.” 

[33max]

What is Max Fest?

Max Fest is a fest dedicated to all things Max! Whether your work focuses solely on Max, or on a pairing including Max, Max Fest is a chance for Max lovers to create and consume all the Max content.

Previous years: Max Fest 2023 | Max Fest 2024

What could I do for Max Fest?

It's completely up to you. Max Fest is available to everyone - writers, artists, creatives, bakers etc.

You could: write a fic, create some art, make a playlist, make a gifset, make a video, knit something... and much, much more.

What pairings are allowed?

Any Max pairings are allowed, with the exception of reader insert. Just make sure you tag your work accordingly.

Is PWP or [insert genre here] allowed?

Yes, all genres are allowed and encouraged. Again, just tag accordingly.

What are the requirements?

• Your creation must be Max centric, either as the focus or as part of the main pairing.

• Your creation should be a minimum of 1000 words, or a time equivalent if you are creating something other than fic.

When is the deadline?

Saturday 31st May, 6pm GMT/7pm CET. This is the weekend of the Spanish Grand Prix.

Do I need to sign up?

No, it's a no pressure fest. Simply upload to the collection before the deadline if you want to participate.

Where is the AO3 collection?

Here!

What should I do if I'm not posting to AO3?

If you can post your work to AO3, please do! However if AO3 doesn't accept your art format then please use the tag #maxfest2025 on tumblr.

Is there a discord server I could join?

There is not a server for Max Fest, but you can join the Golden Boots Boy Server if you want to find like minded creatives also taking part!

If you have any further questions about the event, or if you need some encouragement, feel free to drop me a message. I am really looking forward to feasting on all of the Max content!

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Official Business

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @mytrinityphelps

Request: “Office sex with coworker Fred Weasley (and him wearing glasses)”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm sorry it's taken so long to actually start and upload. But it never slipped my mind. This might just be my longest fic yet, so I hope it's actually enjoyable. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot about the glasses request and I’m so sorry. I reread the request and went “mentioning glasses once might not cover it”. I’m sorry

T/W: Unprotected sex, Office banter, Blowjob, Nearly caught, Belly bulge,

What could you say about working as an Auror?

It was a decent job with decent pay, the hours were your casual 9 to 5 with weekends off.

Oh, and there was your coworker Fred. He wasn't the most serious guy, having left his job at a joke shop for better pay to keep his business up and running.

He was tolerable, unlike some of the other stuffy old workers who were seemingly glued to their desks. He was a little older than you with a ginger mop of hair and glasses that framed his deep brown eyes. He was friendly, always offering to bring you a morning tea and coffee personally instead of relying on the house elves. He even bought you a small owl ornament for your desk to commemorate your first year anniversary of working there.

Maybe you liked the flirty banter more. How during lunch breaks he’d comment about how you looked better than any dessert ever could, and that he looked forward to your smile more than any monthly wage slip. He really knew how to make your day brighter.

When he noticed the blush that spread across your cheeks in response to his teasing, he took a step up. Some of your favorite comments of his all shared a similar trait. They made you want to jump his bones. It was impossible not to when he spoke the stuff of wet dreams in that soft teasing tone.

“Your lipstick looks pretty, I wonder how it would look trailing down my chest”

“Looks like you’ve had a heavy workload today. Here I’d hoped you could take heavy loads, baby”

“You look tired, you’d sleep a lot better in my bed”

Oh, he was really trying to rile you up. And it was working like a charm.

Working overtime wasn’t rare in this line of work. Desk jobs always had their fair share of paperwork pile ups. Most workers left it till the next day or took it home to complete when possible. You only had a bit of work left and decided to stay to avoid the unnecessary task of homework.

One thing that caught you off guard was that Fred hadn’t said goodnight to you like he usually did before leaving. He did it every night. Was he angry at you? Had you said the wrong thing?

The thought stung a little, but you could always ask him about it the next morning.

Half an hour into your work was enough for a tea break. It wasn't procrastination if it counted as hydrating. Heading along the familiar hallway was second nature for you, but stopping dead was new. In the vast rows of desks, was a familiar ginger mop of hair. Was Fred Weasley staying late?

You made your way downstairs, an idea in mind.

Fred hated staying late. He hated this job. He had only taken it for some extra income towards the joke shop. He took the 9 to 5 job due to Georgie and Angelina expecting their first. At least if he was running the shop, he could be more lenient with trips to St Mungos. He still had a whole 3 hours worth of work to get through just to catch up. How people did this full time, he didn't know.

The approach of heels made him keep his head down, thinking it was some higher up reader to scold him for not taking the job seriously. But when a mug of coffee was placed before him, his head soon whipped up. There you were, like an angel in his time of need. You somehow looked perfect, like you weren't working overtime from an 8 hour shift. Instead of reaching for the mug handle, he reached for your hand in a tender grip.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know.

Your thumb trailed over his knuckles softly, a soft yet teasing smile on your face.

“I guess you owe me then”

That brought a smile to his face, giving your hand a tug causing you to fall onto his lap. You laughed softly, your hands finding his shoulders. This was his usual flirting to the max. But what was the harm in a bit of teasing?

“Give it your best shot, Weasley”

Knowing Fred in the capacity that you did, you should have known that he wouldn't take it as harmless teasing. He took it as a challenge.

His other hand found your cheek, pulling you closer to press his lips to yours in a kiss that seemed almost desperate. He let go of your wrist in favour of holding your waist to keep you steady on his lap. His lips pressed harder against yours, like a kiss along could merge your bodies. He wanted to be closer to you. He seemed confused when you got off of his lap, trying to hold onto you tighter, but his confusion turned into shock when you lowered yourself between his spread legs. He couldn't help his excitement as he practically ripped his belt off.

“You’re really gonna suck my dick? Sweetheart, you’re something else. Most girls would complain about ruining their lipstick, but you love being a dirty little office slut, don't you?”

He groaned when you pressed a kiss to his bulge in response before your hand took over, palming him teasingly. Your fingers tugged his zipper and fumbled with his button before his boxers came into view, and they were pulled down even quicker. Fred reached into his boxers, pulling his cock out. It stood tall before your face, his shaft veiny and girthy. The curtains definitely matched the drapes when it came to his pubes.

“Are you always this hard, Fred, or does a bit of kissing turn you on?”

He chuckled, his hand cupping your jaw to pull you closer.

“I'm always hard for you, I just don't show it as blatantly as you do. I knew how wet you got for me. I wonder if you ever played with yourself in the bathrooms thinking of me…or did you just finger yourself under your desk while I told you how pretty you looked every morning?”

That blush that filled your cheeks when he spoke, that's what he loved most about you. How that small tint of pink made you irresistible. How naturally it did.

His thumb caressed your blushing cheek, it was the result of him after all. Little did he know, it was all for him. You’d give all of yourself to him.

Your tongue gave his tip a gentle prod, reveling in his hiss at the touch. He sounded beautiful with every response, but those you drew from him were your favourite. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling softly. Fred stifled his moans, bringing his tie to his mouth and biting it to keep himself quiet from any other late workers. You looked up at him through your lashes, the sight making you wetter. Fred was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his face nearly as red as his hair and his tie tucked between his lips while his cock throbbed for attention. He was like fine art.

Your lips returned to his cock, your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in your throat. His eyes bugged out when he felt your mouth take him deeper. But it was all cut short at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Fred pulled the tie from his mouth and nudged you gently, his voice merely a hushed whisper.

“Sweetie, stop. Someone, fuck…someones coming”

His hands ushered towards the underside of his desk making sure you were tucked in before pulling his chair up and trapping you between his legs. The footsteps stopped by his desk, one of your colleagues commenting on how he was here late, making some joke about his allergy for work slowly being cured. Fred could only nod along, his mind still in panic mode from nearly being caught getting sucked off by a coworker. You, on the other hand, took delight in how the tables had turned. It was your turn to tease him.

You leaned your face closer to his cock, sliding your tongue along his shaft and tracing his veins. You could hear his groan which he quickly covered up with a coughing fit. You could hear the coworker checking on him and patting his back, but you didn't give him a reprieve. Your lips circled his tip, suckling gently. Your coworker ran off, something about getting some water for Fred. He pulled his chair back and helped you out from under the desk.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have time”

He pulls his shirt over his erection and drags you by the hand, along the hallway and to the small utility cupboard that housed quills and inks. He pushed you in first and followed you inside, muttering a few enchantments under his breath. He had to make sure no one would hear you two and most importantly, that no one would try and open the door.

His hands wrapped around your waist like a python, pulling you into him. You pulled your pencil skirt up, hooking your leg over his hip. You dropped your voice to a sultry whisper.

“Then you better not waste anymore time, Fred”

His hand slithered between your bodies, pulling up your pencil skirt and tugging your panties aside. He practically growled at how wet you were, his fingers soaked from that brief touch. He couldn't wait any longer. He lined his tip with your entrance and pulled your hips, sliding you down his cock. You let out a relieved moan, grateful for Fred’s enchantment. His cock was buried so snug inside of you, every clench around his thickness felt like he could break you.

You risked a glance down and the sight of his cock causing your belly to bulge made you whimper. Just the sight alone caused that band to tighten. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pressing needy kisses to his lips. Fred pulled his hips back and thrust back into you, wanting to be as deep inside of you as he could. He wondered what it would be like to cum inside of you, painting you deep inside, but he didn't want to push his luck. There was plenty of time, and there was no way he’d have that much fun in an office storeroom. If it took, that would be a terrible place to conceive.

He licked along your bottom lip, his pace never slowing.

“I'm close, sweetie. Cum on my cock, make a mess”

His hand moved back between you both, desperate fingers circling your clit in tight, quick circles. He could feel your grip on his shoulders tighten, your eyes rolling back in bliss as you clamped down on his cock. A pornographic moan ripped itself from your throat as your juices coated his shaft. You were so warm and tight, that he contemplated just throwing all care out the window but instead he groaned and pulled out, his hand wrapping around his dick and pumping fervently.

His cum painted your bunched up skirt, leaving a sticky stain on the grey fabric. You didn’t call him out on it in your blissed out state, only noticing when you slowly came down. Even then, it was just a skirt. It was worth it.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new skirt if I have to. Maybe some pretty lingerie as well”

His signature smirk returned as he whispered in your ear.

“But then again, I’d prefer you naked”

[moon-mage]

Heart Eyes

Leojami Detective!AU Ficlet (Leona's POV)

I wrote a smol story in the LeoJami Detective!AU verse thing. I had this specific scene stuck in my head forever so I drew this last weekend and wrote a little but then I got busy and I wanted to finish today for Valentines Day. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY/SINGLES AWARENESS DAY! I am a sickeningly hopeless romantic who is single on Valentines Day so to ease my suffering, because I do not have a person to dote on and be obnoxiously fluffy with, I will project that onto my favorite characters. The story is under the cut! It's Leona's POV~ Click for more of context of this AU

Our first case together turned out successful…which honestly neither of us were expecting. The suspect had plead guilty and was getting the maximum punishment. We had received the news after stopping at a spot to watch the fireworks show taking place in the city. Jamil had put his phone on speaker when the cephalopunk lawyer called to update us with the process of the case. We were stunned for a second before the fireworks had caught out our attention and our gazes turned to the sky. Jamil turned to me and smiled. I was taken back by it. Jamil was smiling. Genuinely smiling. Not that practiced smile that looked sickeningly fake and as stiff as a fucking board. He was smiling at me. I looked into his eyes as they bore into mine. Usually whenever I made eye contact with him he would only hold my gaze for so long before looking away. I assumed he had taught himself not to hold eye contact for too long because of how uncomfortable it must make his peers feel. Even when he wore his special designed glasses to "protect" his peers. He wasn't wearing them right now…he took them off to watch the fireworks proper. So I looked into his eyes. Allowed myself to really look at him. I could feel myself being pulled into the darkness of his gaze….as if he could just swallow me entirely. I felt my heart start to thump harder in my chest…my mouth dry…and a twisting in my stomach. That's when I realized… …I want to be swallowed whole by him. I want to know how it feels to be entirely his. I want him to smile at me like this more often. Everyday. "Oh…" Jamil's smile drops and his eyes widen in panic. He looks away quickly, breaking eye contact with me. "I…I'm sorry…I…I'm not wearing…" He flushes as he shoves his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and pulls out those magic blocking glasses. I snatch the glasses away from him. My eyes trying to find his but he avoided my eyes at all costs. "Leona! Give those back! What the hell are you-" "King's Roar." Jamil stilled in that moment and looked to the glasses in my hand. He watched as they slowly crumbled away to sand in my hands…until they were nothing. His dark eyes look back into mine, confused and nervous. I could tell his wheels were turning at full speed. His thoughts turning twisting into the worst case scenarios…I had to put a stop to that bullshit. I step forward and gently cup his face with my hands, keeping my eyes locked with his. I smile a bit when I feel him relax at my touch. He still looked at me with an uncertainty…but I could feel him pulling me in with those eyes. Compelling me to come closer…to fall into him. I lean down and place a kiss on his lips. He kisses back almost instantly…his arms wrapping around me to pull me in closer. Fireworks blast in the background as we kissed…how fucking cliche.

[eschairsnotebook]

So, my husband’s body (45M) got hijacked, and I (42M) had the best sex of my life. Now what?

Okay, so I wasn’t sure where to post this, but I need to tell somebody because I’m still reeling from what the hell just happened. Maybe this is more of an r/confessions or even an r/trueoffmychest post? I don’t know. But anyway, here goes.

So, my husband (let’s call him Mark) and I have been married for almost eight years. We’ve got two adopted kids, a pretty routine life—work, school drop-offs, grocery runs, weekend movie nights, all that good suburban dad shit. Mark is… steady. Like, extremely steady. Dependable, sexy in a “solid oak tree” kind of way. Always been a great dad, great partner. Reliable. So when he tells me a few days ago that he’s planned a surprise date night for us, I’m excited, right? This is rare. He arranges for my sister to take the kids for the evening, makes reservations at a fancy-ass restaurant, the works. Romantic as hell.

So, cut to last night. I drop off the kids, come back home, and Mark is already dressed up, looking fucking delicious in a crisp button-up and slacks. But something is…off. Like, he looks like Mark, sounds like Mark, but the energy? Not quite the same. He’s standing differently, like looser? More fluid? Mark’s always been confident, but this was something else. He gives me this slow, knowing smile when I walk in, and I swear to god my dick twitches before I even fully understand why.

Then, in the most casual voice ever, he says, “The kids are gone?”

And I nod, still kind of stuck in my head trying to figure out what’s different.

Then he laughs. And that’s when I know something’s wrong. Mark doesn’t laugh like that—low, smug, like he’s savoring something. And then his throat convulses. His lips curl back, and suddenly, his jaw stretches too wide, too unnatural, and something pushes through.

I freeze. Because it’s a head—a different head—emerging through Mark’s gaping mouth, black and slick and grinning.

It looks familiar. Like that comic book goo-monstery thing from the Venom movies.

My husband’s body jerks as "Venom" forces himself forward, wearing Mark like a grotesque meatsuit, controlling him like a glove. His voice slithers out from Mark’s throat, two-toned and taunting. “That’s a shame,” he says, “you were really into it a second ago.”

My breath hitches. “Who—what—are you?”

His stolen grin stretches wider. “Tonight, you can just call me Mark.” And then the goo monster retreats, slithering back inside, leaving my husband’s body standing there—but now, Mark is different.

And then the new Mark throws me onto the bed.

What happens next is a blur of strength, heat, and raw, unapologetic power. He moves with purpose, with an intensity that Mark never has. His hands grip me like he owns me, his mouth claiming mine, his body relentless as he watches our every move in a full-length mirror across the room. The way he touches me, devours me—it’s overwhelming, mind-meltingly good.

Mark never takes control like this. He never uses me the way "Venom" does.

And I fucking love it.

Hours later, after I’ve been utterly ruined, my body aching in the best possible way, "Venom" shoots off me and away, a black mass peeling from Mark’s body like liquid shadow. My husband collapses onto the mattress, unconscious, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. When he wakes in the morning, he remembers nothing.

But now, every time I look at him, I keep thinking about that other version. And how badly I want it to happen again.

If I’ll ever be able to go back to normal.

So yeah. Am I cheating if it was still technically my husband? Because uh. Yeah. I think I might be in trouble.

[cindol]

 ૮ ོ ོ𑁬 🍎 forbbiden fruit . ( blurb . )

shidou ryusei x fem reader

cw + — pro player!shidou au, fluff, crack, hard to get trope, reader is nonchalant dreadhead/J.

shidou has always wanted what he can’t have, it��s in his dna really all the way back from infancy and now into his young adult years. Out of all the women now thirsting after him since he’s joined an official playing team there’s only one girl he’s after and that’s you, the pretty prissy manager that he couldn’t have.

he liked how unbothered you were about his actions and how he spoke. When he was whistled at you entering the private team gym you only just said, “good morning to you also, shidou.” with a monotone voice while staring at the clipboard in your hand.

when he’s be late on the phone with sae, chatting and catching up on life sae just didn’t get it himself.

“i don’t see the appeal of a woman who has zero interest, seems desperate.”

shidou only snorted. “nah, she’s into it. Just gotta be a bit of a gentleman with her, to drag her to me.”

sae sighed, “you’re the least romantic person i know, demon.”

shidou couldn’t care how he had you or won you, all he knew was he wanted a chance with you. You knew he’d never not shoot his shot in the most weirdest way his devilish mind could conjure so finally you gave him a chance.

“i’ll give you one chance shidou. If you win this match i’ll actually go out on a date with you.”

shidou for sure thought his ears were deceiving him for a moment. His brows were raised with a devilish grin on his lips. “really now? Finally gave in huh?”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “i’m not giving in, you freak. i’m simply giving you a challenge and if you win you’ll earn a date with me.”

shidou only chuckled under his breath, all excited how he usually got before a match. “hope you know there’s no takesy backies then, these guys out there are gonna be fucking small fried for a shark like me.”

“just do what you do best, shidou.” you deadpanned.

when you were in the crowd and your team came out to be the winners yet again it wasn’t a shock for you. With shidou being one of the strongest players.

when the match was finished shidou didn’t go to celebrate with his teammates, he went to talk to you about that date he earned in one of the inclusive gender neutral bathrooms since he knew you’d probably be there away from the noise to fix up some aspect of your makeup.

he slyly walked next to you as you were looking into the bathroom mirror fixing your lip liner. You were looking straight at the mirror the entire time till shidou started obnoxiously tapping his fingers on the bathroom counter making you let out a breath of air, put your lip pencil down and turn your head at him.

“i think i earned something after this match, a certainnn…. romantic candle lit dinner perhaps?” he teased looking at you with that sharp toothy grin showing his shark teeth.

you raised your brows with a nod, since you promise, he at least earned what he was promised. “well im not a promise breaker, i’ll give you a date. Next week, saturday. Have your phone on, and some restaurant on stand by.”

shidou whined, “monday? That’s like, so far away!” shidou was thirsty for this date, even waiting three days was a drag to him.

“well unlike you shidou, i have chores i get done on weekends. I checked schedules and you’ll be free from practice on monday.”

shidou made a tsking noise with his mouth, “well shit.. can i at least get some reward?”

you blinked, glaring at him for a moment and taking a step forward closer to him. “fine, here’s a treat for you.”

shidou had a grin still on his face till he saw you get on your tippy toes to peck him on the lips. a simple kiss, but it made his smile wider and a blush on his tan cheeks.

“that should sedate you till next week.”

[agardenofbasil]

“you’re easy to love.” + pedri/ferran (ferran says it) thank you ❤️

A little angsty...

Ferran told them this is a bad idea. 

Somewhere out on the dance floor are their other teammates, who are finally letting loose after weeks of games and practices and media responsibilities. One weekend of rest before they have to gear up for the next La Liga matches. Hansi Flick warned them to be careful but otherwise, the world is theirs. And Ferran had every plan to be on the dancefloor with them, to think of anything until he saw Pedri at the bar. 

Ordering another drink. 

“This is a bad idea,” he warned Fermin, who ordered Pedri’s first drink and swore up and down that he’d keep an eye on him. Because Ferran remembers what happened in Berlin.

History has a way of repeating itself, Ferran thinks as he watches Pedri drain the glass.

“Everyone else has someone except me,” Pedri slurs.

“No. Half the team's single.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t I have anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Ferran sighs. “Maybe because you stay  at home and play with your dog all day?”

Pedri makes a face. “Is that a euphemism?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Can I get another-”

“No,” Ferran cuts in, looking the bartender dead in the eye. “He’s had enough.”

Another face. “I can decide when I’ve had enough.”

“Pedri.” Ferran shakes his head at the bartender, who, having seen God, walks towards another patron.

Pedri folds his arms, but stumbles forward. Ferran catches him swiftly, straightening him up even though the midfielder is still mad. “You have it easy,” Pedri insists. “You can… be tall.”

Ferran tries not to laugh. “What?”

“You’re tall,” Pedri yells, eyes bright like it’s the first time he’s noticed his height. 

“That’s not-”

“You could get anyone you want! I message one girl on Instagram and I get ghosted after five messages. What gives?”

Ferran swallows the hard lump in his throat. “I can't get anyone I want,” he grits out. 

“Then it's me.”

“It's not.”

“Maybe I'm too hard to love.”

“Stop.”

“That has to be it, right?”

Here we go. Just like Berlin.

“Pedri, you’re not-”

“There has to be!”

It’s not fun anymore. Being here. It’s worse than Berlin, where Pedri was moping about his leg. This time, Ferran’s watching Pedri slide straight into the hell that is self-doubt. 

Wait. No. Pedri’s literally sliding.

The midfielder’s head thumps against Ferran’s chest.

“For fuck’s sake-”

“I’m always alone.”

Among the noise, Pedri’s words send a chill down Ferran’s spine.

“Do you really feel that way?” Ferran asks. Pedri doesn’t answer. “Can you hear me?”

Still no answer.

“Dumbass thought he could handle three drinks. Idiot. Dumbass.”

Silence.

“You’re easy to love.”

Nothing. 

“Loving you is so damn easy. I would know. Been doing it for years.”

Pedri mumbles, and his head digs heavily into Ferran’s sternum.

“What?”

“I said, can we go home?”

Ferran tightens his arm around Pedri's shoulder, the same way his chest tightens when Pedri’s phone lights up from another Instagram notification. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

...but good news, you get a full Ao3 version. Hope you enjoy. 🍃

[sundew199]

Valentine's Surprise

a/n: smth cute cause I've been so soft for him lately :) Happy Valentine's Day!! ♡

tags: reiner braun x reader, no p/n's used, fluff, established relationship

“Are you sure you didn’t have too much to eat?”

Reiner looked back at you when you asked, walking a bit ahead of you on the side walk, hand in hand and dragging you along. He seemed like he was in a rush after leaving the restaurant.

“No? I just want to get back so I can give you your gift.” A little smirk could be seen from the slight turn of his head. You scoffed and picked up your pace to catch up with him, so you didn’t look like you were being dragged against your will.

It was Valentine’s Day today and Reiner surprised you with a nice dinner downtown, a really nice dinner at that. A full course meal with the finest wine and liquor, desert at the end to top it all off. You’ve been dating each other for almost six months now and he was still so dreamy. Reiner made you feel things you hadn’t felt before and you assumed it were the same with him.

The honeymoon phase between you two had yet to end, and everyday you hoped it didn’t. It was so much fun giggling and smiling with each other all day, you couldn’t imagine falling out of that. He was your best friend with in a partner and something you'd been looking for in your years of dating around. There wasn't a negative thing about Reiner.

"I thought you said you didn't want to do gifts?" Slipping into the lobby of his apartment, pressing the button on the elevator and waiting for the doors to open.

"I did, but I saw this and knew you'd like it." Rushing to get inside the elevator before you, winking and bouncing on his feet from excitement. You looked him up and down, wondered what on earth he could've possibly gotten you. It dawned on you then that you hadn't gotten Reiner anything, under the pretense that neither of you were going to get gifts for the other. Well, shit.

Speed walking down the hall to his apartment, Reiner opened the door, letting you in first and then covering your eyes with his hands before you could even take anymore steps.

"Keep your eyes closed while I go get it, okay?"

Muttering back your compliance, you replaced his hands with yours over your eyes after he moved you to stand by the kitchen counter, you think. Running the possible gifts he could've gotten you were becoming useless the longer you waited. What on earth could this man have gotten you.

Soft footsteps came into earshot, making your stomach do a little summersault as you stood there on pins and needles. It could be anything and how nerve wracking and exciting was that.

"Open."

Doing as you were told, you moved your hands away from your eyes and turned to face Reiner, who held a little gift bag with hot pink tissue paper. He gave you a subtle nod to open your gift, stepping forward a bit and playfully tearing the tissue paper from the cute little gift bag. You let out a little gasp and stared up at him wide-eyed, and he was beet red, smiling bashfully.

"You didn't," Starting in disbelief as you reached into the bag to grab what was inside, holding them out in front of you and shaking your head. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Pit tickets to your favorite artist that's performing next weekend? Maybe." Giving you a really shy smile and setting the gift bag aside, standing in front of you awkwardly as the reality of his gift set in. You felt like you couldn't breathe, in the best way possible. These tickets sold out the day they went on sale and it was sort of unbelievable that your boyfriend manage to get you PIT tickets.

Saying nothing else, you threw yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting out a little squeal. Ugh, you were on top of the world! It used to be a dream to go see your favorite artist live and yet Reiner made it happen. Goes to show he does listen to you, thinking back to when you mentioned wanting to see them in person one day.

"Thank you, oh my god thank you." Saying into the crook of his neck, almost on the verge of tears from how happy and appreciative you were. Reiner hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head and saying 'it was no big deal'.

"This is the best thing I could've ever gotten, I don't even know what else to say I - thank you, I love you so much." Slipping back into the hug, squeezing your arms around his neck tighter. But you felt a slight shift in him, like the air was just sucked out of his lungs. You hadn't realized what you said there at the end, and didn't until Reiner pulled you back and looked at you with an even more astonished face.

"What? You-"

"What, did I say something??" Frantically asking as you still held the side of his neck with one hand, running your eyes up and down on his face, trying to figure out what just happened.

"You said I love you," He swallowed thickly, looking on the verge of tears almost, happy tears you hoped.

Hearing him repeat what you said, had you hand clamped over your mouth. Clearly it had slipped out and the excitement and gratitude for his gift was overwhelming you in the moment. Neither of you had said those three big words yet, but you did love Reiner, you loved him so much.

"I did." Letting a smile creep onto your face, nervousness still present on his. Poor thing was afraid he might've heard you wrong. "It slipped out but it doesn't take away how I feel about you." Moving the hand holding the side of his neck to cup his cheek.

Reiner was still processing it all, but eventually letting out a small laugh and yanking you close to his chest, stealing a kiss from you. His lips were hard and intense on yours, passion ever the more present, feeling like your very first kiss with him, but better.

"I love you too, Happy Valentine's Day baby." Saying after a few moments of exchanging kisses, the two of you giggling into them towards the end. You'd never been with someone who made you so happy before, Reiner was everything and more. Though the confessing the big three words wasn't some big romantic gesture on either of your ends, it didn't take away the magic behind it, because it was uniquely fitting for the relationship the two of you shared.

"Happy Valentine's Day Reiner."

[sleepinginpanic]

Thank you HD!!

Last Song: Still Late by Satellite High

Fav Color: pale yellow or blue

Last Book: One Punch Man

Last Movie: Sonic

Last Show: Dr Stone

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I can’t decide Savory or Sweet. Probably Savory

Relationship Status: Single

Last Thing I Googled: Welcome to night vale songs

Looking Forward To: DnD this weekend with my friends

Current Obsession: Horror media analysis

I don’t really know who to tag. @mossypossumd20 <3

Tag Game: People I'd Like to Get to Know Better!

Thanks for the tag @curufiin, and also I think @twofoursixohjuan has tagged me on this same kind of thing semi-recently and I never got to it.

Last Song: whatever was on the radio last at the nonprofit before I left tonight. But the last thing I listened to was the audiobook of The King's General by Daphne du Maurier.

Favorite Color: Curufiin has excellent taste, but I just expact to nearly any shade of green. Bonus points if it goes all golden when sunlight hits it.

Last Book: The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister (that I read with my eyeballs not my ears, but this was like. last week or so.)

Last movie: Laapataa Ladies

Last TV Show: ...great question. Um. Does youtube count? If not it was Shogun, and if yes then I think it was a cow hoof trimming video.

Sweet/savory/spicy: I have a profound sweet tooth, but I enjoy all three.

Relationship status: cheerful aroace spinster

Last thing I googled: "indian romcom switched brides" because I couldn't remember the name of the movie. Before that... probably something to do with the grant I'm working on, idk.

Looking forward to: I have some very fun nearly-finished sewing projects, and I strongly suspect a friend may be actively giving birth at the moment (the whole discord server is waiting to hear from her), and another friend is planning her bachelorette party and I might get to whisk her off for a chill mountain getaway after. <3 <3 <3

Current obsession: I'm between fascinations which is a bitch of a state to be in. But I might be getting my sewjo back, and I have some fun and silly painting projects underway.

I'm tagging: @theblacknessdyer, @twofoursixohjuan (if you haven't done one lately), @of-sevenseas, @feanorianethicsdepartment, @vvitchking

[yukipri]

feelin kinda sad so eating an obscene amount of pasta

[clove-pinks]

Tomorrow—or technically, later today since I'm writing this approaching 2AM EST—is my ten year wedding anniversary!!!!! I have an extra-long weekend to celebrate with my wife.

A little bit of personal lore, that also ties me to tumblr forevermore: I met my wife on here. We literally still joke about the fact that she followed me first, because I was too shy to contact her.

[confusionism]

All right. So maybe Aiden did want a picture with the flower arch— but the purpose isn’t a flex or anything of the sort. Rather, it's an extension of what one would find looking through his camera roll, the marked difference between everything prior to mid-December and after. The images before were mostly unremarkable, few and far apart. Then came one — of the view from just outside his favorite cafe — to mark the shift toward consistency, toward color and vibrance. Anna brings a lot of that into his life. Shares it as much as she invites him to it.

The same applies to now, how she encourages him forward. He has a moment. 'Oh shit. Is it goats or sheep that can kick your ass?' But the warmth of Anna's palm and the softness with which she speaks reassures him, and in due time Aiden's fingers are threaded between the soft wool. His shoulders loosen.

He looks up and catches the eye of the farmer from before. "What's her name?" It's written on a board off to the side, but Aiden's can't leave now. "Maple." He looks back down and leans in just a smidgen. "Thanks, Miss Maple." Polite, even when he's still got a tight bundle of nerves in his gut. Really, he's just relieved that he didn't end up like that dude in Kangaroo Jack. A different scenario, but the animal kingdom is nothing if not consistent.

"Would you like to feed them?" Clark, another farmer who's been bringing his animals here for decades, asks. Aiden gives a look, not of judgment, but of uncertainty.

"Maybe... Maybe next time?" He's already certain that they'll be back in two weeks, and only because next is the weekend in Brighton. This is his compromise, not an exact 'no,' but a 'later,' for when he's a little more confident being around animals. Baby steps. Like working his way into a crowd, except without the pressure of his record or reputation. And speaking of babies— a sassy young calf makes her presence known with a high-pitched bleat.

"I know this one," Aiden announces. Not just because she's the same one from last time, but, "The one who kept following you around." Funny how, for Anna, that applies to both people and creatures. He gets it, though. She's just got that charm about her. "You think she remembers you?" He thinks she does, although he's definitely not the expert on any of this. That much is clear in how stiffly he stands, how he's slow even when showering the other (willing) sheep with attention. "I know animals are a lot smarter than we give credit for." National Geographic definitely taught him as much.

She likes to think this is how she'd spend her time, after the fame and glamor come to pass. Talking to children, understanding their dreams, figuring out how to make it happen. But she's not a football coach, and Anna smiles gratefully when Aiden shares in the buzz of energy with her. It's not a test, certainly not a strategic move. How could Anna predict a growing crowd, and a young Charlotte looking for guidance? But if it were... Well, then Anna would say Aiden passes with flying colors of the rainbow.

There's a swell in her chest, and Anna feels another wave of 'Aiden Fitzgerald giddiness' consume her. But before she can combust, Aiden reminds her of something key and forgotten. "Oh my God, how could I forget?" It's all the cuteness, she argues. The energy of bright, young girls in pastel colors did her in. So distracted that she almost forgets about the petting zoo. "What would I do without you?" Anna has an idea; it starts and ends with a stream of tears, and a heartache in her chest. Luckily, Aiden's not going anywhere. Even when they make a bee-line towards the petting zoo, with extra merriment in every corner. Valentine's Day has that affect.

"Look at that!" It's stunning. A perfect display of pink. "Should we take a picture before we're covered in hay?" Because in her excitement, Anna would undoubtedly end up on the other side of the fence. Luckily, the sheep are friendly. She's already reaching for her phone when an older man, a local sheep farmer, stops and offers to take the photo instead. There's a clear squint in his eyes - Aiden and Anna are vaguely recognizable. But he takes the photo (even working those angles), while Anna holds Aiden extra close.

"Thank you!" She takes her phone back happily, waving goodbye while she skims the photos. "Alright, it's official. We're so cute!" Really, Aiden is - Anna's been photographed since she's thirteen, and sometimes even she's bored of her own image. "Let's start with the sheep." Least she can do for the farmer who happily took their picture. Taking Aiden's hand as she approaches the sheep, a hand running through their soft wool.

"Want to try?" She asks, taking Aiden's hand in hers. Careful and gentle as she guides his hand. "She's very calm. I think she just likes a lazy Sunday." Does Anna know for certain what mood hits the young sheep? No, but she knows a thing or two about body language.

[ilkkawhat]

[johnnyshrine]

★ 026 // “Foil Star Label”