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sabrinasopposite · 1 month ago

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you'll always find a way back home ❀

clark kent x reader (miley stewart summer au)

❀ summary: being a cali-girl has its advantages—surrounded by beaches, parties, and sunshine. Y/N loves her life there, but she forgets that deep down, her roots lie in the opposite: Smallville. Her summer takes an unexpected turn when she returns to Smallville for her summer break and crosses paths once again with her childhood enemy, Clark Kent.

word count: 6,755

There’s always the best of both worlds—one filled with glamour and the other, well, the opposite of it. The same could be said for Malibu and Smallville. Malibu embodied glamorous salt air, the sound of waves, and the endless rush of life. Smallville, on the other hand, was different: cows, meadows, and pure silence—the opposite sides of existence.

For Y/N, the feeling of living in two different worlds wasn’t a big deal. She had left one world behind at the age of seven, spending the next ten years in Malibu. Salt air, endless beaches, and the golden glow of the sun—it was a life she had carved out for herself, a world she had seamlessly become part of. The rush of city life, the hum of vibrant streets, and the pulse of constant motion nourished her soul in ways she could never have imagined as a seven-year-old. The sprawling metropolis of Malibu felt like a living, thriving entity at the edge of the world.

Before Malibu, there was only Smallville. The life she had known as a child was painted in shades of green—vast, open fields stretching endlessly in every direction. The land was quiet, so silent it could almost swallow her whole. Days were spent wandering dusty roads on horseback, the sun scorching the back of her neck, while the sound of crickets and rustling corn served as her only soundtrack. It was a life where the horizon never seemed to change, and the sense of being trapped within the narrow confines of the small town’s heartbeat was ever-present. A world of barns, hand-me-down denim, and the thick scent of earth—the very soil seemed to anchor her in place, a constant reminder of who she once was.

Then came the transformation. She shed the weight of Smallville like an old, weathered coat and replaced it with the sleek, gleaming allure of Malibu. Gone were the cowboy boots—now she walked in strappy sandals. The scent of hay gave way to the salty tang of the ocean breeze. Her hands, once calloused from farmwork, now held delicate silk fabrics and the soft sheen of designer handbags. Dusty roads became wide, pristine boulevards, and the simple country air was replaced by the intoxicating aroma of city life.

And she liked it.

Hell, she loved it.

She loved being a city girl, a Cali girl.

She had long forgotten the quiet winds that swept through Smallville’s open fields, the scent of grass and earth underfoot, and the cool embrace of the night sky.

Yet, as summer break loomed, she envisioned herself spending it with friends at the beach or going to parties. But plans took an unexpected twist, like a tornado without warning. Her father, Robbie, appeared with his ever-stubborn insistence. He informed Y/N and her brother, Jackson, that they were heading back to Smallville for a celebration—Martha Kent’s birthday.

Martha, Robbie’s childhood friend and the ever-kind, patient woman, had invited them to join the Kents for the occasion. Y/N wasn’t thrilled. Her original summer plans had promised excitement, filled with the laughter of friends and the sparkle of club lights—the kind of plans Malibu always encouraged. Smallville, though? It felt like a relic of the past, a place where time stood still.

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N protested, her voice sharp with frustration as she flopped back onto the couch. “I had plans. I was going to hang out with my friends, hit the clubs, you know, actually have fun.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. “This is important, Y/N. You haven’t seen Martha in years. She’s been asking about you. You’re going, and that’s final.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You’re really going to make me spend my break in a field with cows and tractors?”

Her brother, Jackson—the ever-peacemaker and, somehow, the most annoying brother—glanced over with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Like old times. You can hang out with me, catch up with everyone, and maybe the fresh air will do you some good.”

Y/N groaned, slumping into the cushions. “I don’t need fresh air. I need a beach, not cornfields.”

But her father wasn’t listening to her complaints. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving in an hour.”

The truck rumbled along the familiar winding roads of Smallville, the scent of dust and fresh air filling the cab. Y/N leaned against the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the condensation. Outside, fields stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted with grazing cows and the occasional weathered barn. The sight should have been nostalgic, but to Y/N, it only deepened her annoyance.

It had been years since she’d been here, yet the quiet of the countryside felt almost suffocating. The stillness pressed against her like a heavy blanket, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Smallville seemed frozen in time—its unchanging landscapes a stark contrast to the vibrant motion of Malibu.

She glanced over at Jackson, who was scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat, annoyingly unbothered by their sudden detour into the past. Robbie sat behind the wheel, humming along to a country station on the radio, clearly in his element. The whole scene made Y/N’s skin itch.

She sighed, the sound loud enough to get Jackson’s attention. He smirked without looking up from his phone. “You okay there, city girl?”

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, shifting in her seat. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irritated she was. But in truth, she wasn’t fine. The weight of Smallville’s simplicity—the fields, the dirt roads, the lack of anything remotely exciting—was already settling over her like a cloud.

The truck slowed as they passed the familiar white sign welcoming them to Smallville. Y/N’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. The memories she’d worked so hard to bury began clawing their way back to the surface: the laughter of kids on the school playground, the smell of hay bales during harvest, the quiet nights spent staring at the stars because there was nothing else to do.

She shifted her gaze back to the window, trying to drown out the flood of emotions with the rhythmic crunch of the tires on the gravel road. “Why couldn’t we just send a card?” she grumbled under her breath, earning a chuckle from Robbie.

“It won’t kill you to be here for a few days,” her father said, his tone equal parts teasing and firm. “Besides, Martha’s been looking forward to seeing you. She’s practically family, Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was the problem. Smallville wasn’t just a place she’d left behind—it was a version of herself she’d buried, a girl she didn’t want to be anymore. Being back here felt like opening a door she’d slammed shut years ago, and she wasn’t ready to step through it.

As the truck turned down a familiar dirt road, the Kent farmhouse came into view. It looked exactly as she remembered—whitewashed walls, a wide wraparound porch, and the iconic red barn standing proud against the horizon. Y/N could already picture Martha’s warm smile and open arms, the way she’d welcome them with fresh pie and a hug that felt like it could squeeze the air out of your lungs.

Her father parked the truck and hopped out, stretching with a contented sigh. “We’re here,” he announced cheerfully.

Y/N stayed put, gripping the door handle but not opening it. The idea of stepping out and being enveloped in the reality of Smallville made her stomach churn. She wasn’t ready to see the barn, the fields, or the people who would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t ready to feel like the little girl who used to belong here.

“Y/N?” Jackson’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was standing outside now, leaning against the truck with a knowing look on his face. “You coming, or are you planning to live in the cab?”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pushed the door open and slid out. The warm summer air wrapped around her like a blanket, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was as if Smallville itself was welcoming her home.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and trudged toward the house, muttering under her breath, “This is going to be the longest summer of my life.”

The Kent farmhouse was just as Y/N remembered it, a picture-perfect postcard of rural life. The white picket fence framed the yard, the flowerbeds bursting with color, and the iconic red barn standing tall against the clear blue sky. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of warmth at the sight of it all.

Martha Kent stood on the porch, her apron dusted with flour, waving enthusiastically as the truck pulled to a stop. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little. Martha’s energy was infectious, and her kind heart had always been a constant source of comfort during Y/N’s early years in Smallville.

“Y/N! Jackson! Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” Martha exclaimed, rushing forward with open arms. Robbie got out of the truck first, grinning as Martha pulled him into a quick hug before moving on to Y/N and Jackson.

Y/N braced herself for the inevitable bone-crushing hug, but when Martha wrapped her arms around her, it wasn’t suffocating—it was warm and reassuring, like stepping into the sunlight after a cloudy day. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” Martha said, pulling back to get a good look at her.

“Thanks, Martha,” Y/N said, her voice softening in spite of her earlier annoyance. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And Jackson, my goodness, you’ve shot up like a weed!” Martha added, giving him a playful nudge.

Jackson grinned, always happy to be the center of attention. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Kent.”

“Now, none of this ‘Mrs. Kent’ business. You know you can call me Martha,” she said, ushering them toward the porch.

The house smelled like freshly baked apple pie, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering in the air. Y/N couldn’t deny that it felt nice—familiar, even. Martha’s home had always been a safe haven, a place filled with warmth and kindness.

As they settled into the living room, Martha brought out a tray of lemonade and cookies, chatting animatedly with Robbie about old times. Jackson joined in, sharing stories of their life in Malibu. Y/N stayed mostly quiet, sipping her lemonade and letting the conversation flow around her. She liked Martha, but being back in Smallville was like stepping into a pair of old shoes that didn’t quite fit anymore.

“Clark’s not here, by the way,” Martha said suddenly, glancing at Y/N with a knowing smile. “He’s somewhere.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her glass. Of course, Clark Kent would come up eventually. He was practically Smallville royalty, and Martha couldn’t help but dote on her son.

“That’s… fine,” Y/N said quickly, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Clark Kent was the most annoying boy next door, y/n has ever known. He was always teasing her about her farming skills, or pulled pranks with Jackson on her. Y/N always teased Clark that he couldn’t speak properly to girls, or that he looks like a grandpa. It was always forth and back.

Martha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I seem to remember the two of you didn’t get along very well as kids.”

Jackson snorted. “Didn’t get along? That’s putting it mildly. Clark was always teasing her—pushing her to the hay, hiding her toys, calling her ‘city slicker’ even though she wasn’t from the city back then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyance was clear on her face. “Yeah, well, he was a terror. I’m surprised he didn’t get himself kicked out of kindergarten.”

Martha laughed, clearly amused. “Oh, he’s grown out of that phase, I promise. He’ll be happy to see you.”

Y/N highly doubted that. The last time she’d seen Clark Kent, they’d been seven years old, and he’d shoved a frog into her lunchbox, resulting in her shrieking so loudly the teacher had to call the principal and Y/N pushed him later as revenge to a lake. The memory still made her cringe.

“Well, let’s hope he’s matured,” Y/N said in a sarcastically tone, setting her glass down on the coffee table.

Martha patted her hand gently. “I’m sure you’ll both get along better now. People change, Y/N.”

“Sure they do,” Y/N replied, though she wasn’t convinced. If Clark Kent was still the same smug, teasing boy she remembered, this summer was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

After the small talk in the living room had run its course, Y/N found herself wandering toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling fields behind the Kent house. Her eyes drifted to the paddock near the barn, and her breath caught when she spotted a familiar figure—Blue Jeans, her old horse.

The years hadn’t dulled his striking appearance. His glossy black coat gleamed in the sunlight, his white star-shaped marking standing out proudly on his forehead. Her heart squeezed as memories of riding him across the fields rushed back—those carefree days when the world felt vast and full of possibilities.

“He’s still here,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Martha, who had been tidying up, looked over and smiled warmly. “Of course, he is. Robbie couldn’t bear to part with him after you guys left. He’s been here ever since.”

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Blue Jeans had been her constant companion during her Smallville years, a source of comfort when the quiet got too loud. She suddenly felt a tug of nostalgia and longing that she hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m going to go see him,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and heading toward the door.

The heat of the sun kissed her skin as she walked across the yard, the scents of hay and earth growing stronger with every step. When she reached the paddock, Blue Jeans was grazing lazily near the fence, his tail swishing against the flies.

“Hey there, boy,” Y/N called softly, leaning against the wooden fence. Her voice wavered slightly, a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It’s me, Blue Jeans. Remember me?”

The horse’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look at her. His dark eyes, once so full of trust and familiarity, now stared at her with a distant curiosity. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment.

“It’s been a while, huh?” she said, stepping closer. She reached out a hand, hoping he’d recognize her scent or the sound of her voice. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

Blue Jeans regarded her for a moment longer before snorting and turning his head away, clearly uninterested.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Y/N murmured, slipping through the fence and into the paddock. She approached slowly, her hand outstretched, but as soon as she got close, Blue Jeans startled. His ears pinned back, and before she could react, he bolted across the paddock, his hooves kicking up clouds of dust.

“Blue Jeans, wait!” Y/N called, her heart sinking as she watched him gallop toward the far side of the field.

She stood there for a moment, the weight of his reaction pressing down on her. He didn’t remember her. The bond they’d shared—the one she’d thought would last forever—was gone.

Frustration welled up as she stopped near the edge of the pasture, catching her breath. She hadn’t expected this—her own horse, the one she’d ridden through countless childhood summers, didn’t even know her anymore.

Movement on the far side of the field caught her eye. A rider was approaching swiftly on a sleek black horse, cutting across the open space with practiced ease. They seemed to have noticed Blue Jeans’ runaway gallop and were moving to intercept him.

Y/N squinted, trying to make out the rider. The sunlight glinted off the black horse’s glossy coat as the figure leaned low in the saddle, guiding the animal with effortless precision.

The rider expertly maneuvered their horse, heading off Blue Jeans before he could get any farther. With a firm but gentle pull of the reins, they brought him to a halt. The black horse stood steady, calm in its dominance, while Blue Jeans pawed at the ground, uncertain but no longer running.

Y/N stood frozen, watching the rider stroke Blue Jeans’ neck and murmur something she couldn’t hear. She felt a pang of gratitude mixed with curiosity.

As the rider turned and began leading the two horses back toward the barn, Y/N finally got a better look. The tall figure was dressed in a simple flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. The confidence in his movements stirred something vaguely familiar in her memory, but she couldn’t place it right away.

When the rider dismounted, handing Blue Jeans’ reins to her, Y/N finally got a clear look at his face—and her breath caught.

Clark Kent.

Of course, that was him.

He looked different—taller, broader, more confident—but the smug little smirk on his face as he approached was unmistakable.

“Lost something?” he called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw tightening as Clark brought both horses to a stop in front of her. Blue Jeans looked calm now, his ears twitching as Clark dismounted and handed her the reins.

“Your horse didn’t seem too thrilled to see you,” Clark said, his tone light but with that teasing edge she remembered all too well.

Y/N snatched the reins from his hand, glaring at him. “He just didn’t recognize me. It’s been a while.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

She huffed, focusing on stroking Blue Jeans’ neck instead of responding. Clark’s black horse snorted behind him, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how well-trained and strong the animal looked.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide her irritation.

Clark shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I could ask you the same, city girl. Perhaps I was riding but I didn’t think I’d end up saving your horse in the process and I am still waiting for a ,thank you,” His tone sarcastically as ever.

“Thanks,” she muttered begrudgingly, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

As Clark mounted his horse again, he glanced back at her with a grin that made her blood boil. “Good to see you again, city girl. Try not to lose him next time.”

With that, he urged his horse into a trot and rode off, leaving Y/N standing there with Blue Jeans and a swirl of emotions she didn’t want to unpack.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, tugging lightly on Blue Jeans’ reins. “Welcome back to Smallville.”

Y/N walked slowly back toward the barn, Blue Jeans obediently following behind her, though he was still skittish from the brief escape. Her thoughts were racing, the familiar, maddening presence of Clark Kent bringing all kinds of feelings she’d hoped were buried. She couldn’t believe it—after all these years, he was still the same teasing, infuriating kid she remembered. Only now, he was taller, more confident, and somehow, even more irritating.

As she reached the barn, she heard the sound of hooves approaching again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. She glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Clark, riding his horse back toward her.

He pulled the reins as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing with that mischievous glint she remembered so well.

“So, Malibu, huh?” he said, his tone light and teasing, as if he was trying to provoke her. “I actually didn’t even recognize you earlier. Thought you were some California tourist passing through.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re not the first person to make that mistake,” she muttered, stroking Blue Jeans’ neck a little more forcefully than necessary.

Clark chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “No kidding. You look nothing like the girl I used to torment.” His gaze shifted up and down, inspecting her with an expression that felt far too knowing. “You’ve definitely changed. I barely recognized you without the pigtails and the dirt on your face.”

Y/N couldn’t suppress a huff of frustration. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve been really paying attention,” she shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Why would I want to look like that annoying little girl you used to pick on?”

Clark grinned, clearly enjoying every second of this. “You know, I never understood why you were so touchy about me teasing you. It was all in good fun. You were, what, seven? Not like you’d remember any of it now.” His eyes twinkled as if he was savoring the memory of their childhood rivalry.

“Trust me,” Y/N replied, her tone sharp, “I remember plenty. And just because I don’t look like that girl anymore doesn’t mean I’m not still the same person.”

Clark leaned back slightly in the saddle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Of course. But it’s hard to see past the whole… Malibu vibe. You’ve got the whole ‘I’m way too cool for Smallville’ thing going on.” His grin widened, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or genuinely poking at something he knew would get under her skin.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not too cool for Smallville,” she said slowly, “but maybe it’s you who can’t see past the small-town life. Maybe it’s you who hasn’t changed.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by her comment. “I changed. I’m just not *bragging* about it like you are.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the way she stood in front of him, her posture more confident, her clothes undoubtedly a far cry from the ones she’d worn all those years ago. “I mean, Malibu does wonders for a person.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but refused to back down. “I’m not bragging. And for the record, there’s more to me than whatever you think you see from your small-town perspective.” She met his gaze, refusing to let him get the best of her. “You know, I didn’t ask for this visit. I had better plans than standing here in the dust, talking to the same person who made my life miserable when we were kids.”

Clark leaned forward in the saddle, his expression softening slightly. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. I didn’t mean anything by it. But seriously, Malibu… It must be a whole different world from here, huh?” His tone was more genuine now, though still laced with that teasing undercurrent. “I bet it’s *pretty* hard to leave it all behind.”

Y/N hesitated. For a moment, the teasing and the rivalry faded, and she could hear the underlying curiosity in his voice. “Yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “It’s... different. It’s all the things people think it is—beaches, sun, parties. But it’s also lonely. Harder than people realize.”

Clark’s smile faded, and he gave a small nod, as if he understood more than he was letting on. “I get it. Doesn’t matter how shiny things are. Not every place feels like home.”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the change in tone. For a moment, it felt like they weren’t just two childhood enemies standing in the middle of a field—they were two people who, in their own ways, were just trying to make sense of their worlds.

But before she could say anything more, Clark seemed to snap back to his usual self. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your horse,” he said with a wink. “Just don’t lose him again, okay? I don’t want to have to rescue you next time.”

Y/N scowled. “You’re lucky I’m not punching you right now,” she shot back, but even as she said it, there was an undeniable hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Clark laughed, a light, carefree sound that made Y/N realize how little she actually knew about the boy who had teased her for so long. “I’ll be around, city girl. Don’t go getting too comfortable.”

Y/N watched him go, the sting of their old rivalry still there but somehow not as sharp. Maybe Smallville wasn’t as small as she remembered after all.

Over the next few days, Y/N found herself spending more time with Clark than she’d expected. Every time she tried to avoid him, he seemed to find a way to show up, like some kind of cosmic joke. And despite her best efforts to maintain her distance, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward him. It was the kind of pull that only small towns seemed to foster—familiar, unspoken, and inescapable.

It started innocently enough. Martha had insisted that they all help with the chores around the farm, and, of course, Clark had been the first to show up, grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream.

“Ready to get your hands dirty, city girl?” he’d teased, standing at the entrance of the barn with his sleeves rolled up, looking like he belonged there more than anyone else.

Y/N shot him a glare, arms crossed. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of doing chores, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, clearly not convinced. “I doubt you’ve done a real day’s work in your life,” he shot back, leaning against a barrel of hay. “I mean, Malibu’s great and all, but I don’t think they teach you how to muck out a stall out there.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’d be surprised what I can handle.”

And handle it, she did. After a little grumbling, they worked side by side, shoveling hay, cleaning out the barn, and feeding the animals. At first, it was awkward—Y/N wasn’t used to the rhythm of farm life anymore, and Clark didn’t hesitate to point out every little mistake she made.

“Oh, you missed a spot,” he’d tease, always with that smirk of his, as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, city girl.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the truth was, she liked the banter. It reminded her of her childhood, when everything was simpler, when everything had felt like a game.

“Look, if you think I can’t do this, just wait until I show you how it’s done,” she said, determined to prove him wrong.

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m waiting.”

And then, to his surprise, Y/N had grabbed the pitchfork and shoveled with more precision than he had expected. She might not have grown up with the same skills as him, but she knew how to get things done.

When they finally took a break, Clark leaned against the barn wall, wiping his forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re not as bad as I thought. Maybe Malibu’s *not* all you are.”

Y/N smirked, a spark of competition in her eyes. “Told you so.”

Their time together continued like that—moments of teasing and lighthearted jabs followed by quiet, almost comfortable silences. They’d ride together out in the fields, their horses’ hooves beating a steady rhythm on the dirt. Clark would always make sure to *just barely* stay ahead of her, giving her a playful wink when she caught up.

“You know, I’ve always been better at this than you,” he would say, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement. “You used to be so slow. Guess Malibu's not doing much for your speed.”

Y/N would roll her eyes. “You really need to stop talking about the past, Kent. I’m faster now. Catch me if you can.”

And then she’d race ahead, her heart pounding in the excitement of the chase. Clark would grin and follow, effortlessly keeping pace with her, never really pushing to overtake her. They were both competitive, in their own ways, but Clark’s subtle teasing always managed to keep her on her toes.

One afternoon, after a long ride, they returned to the barn, both a little winded and flushed from the exertion. Clark tied the horses up, and when he turned to Y/N, he caught her looking at him for a moment longer than she intended.

“What?” he asked, his grin widening as he noticed the lingering look.

“Nothing,” Y/N replied quickly, her heart unexpectedly fluttering. “I was just thinking how *different* it is being here. It feels… good, I guess. Like it fits.”

Clark didn’t miss the tone in her voice. “Glad to hear it,” he said quietly, his smile softer now, like he wasn’t just teasing her for once. “You know, Smallville has a way of doing that to people. It’s like it gets under your skin.”

Y/N swallowed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And then, almost as if to remind her that some things never really changed, Clark stepped closer, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “I’m still way better at riding than you, though,” he said, his voice low with that playful challenge. “I mean, you did need me to catch your horse earlier.”

Y/N huffed, trying to stay unaffected by the closeness. “I don’t remember asking for your help.”

He flashed a grin, his eyes lingering on her face for just a beat too long. “I’ll remind you of that next time I rescue you from your own horse again.”

The air between them shifted, a silent tension hanging in the barn as they stood in the afterglow of their ride, the sound of the horses settling in the background. Y/N felt a knot tighten in her stomach, but before she could respond, Clark seemed to snap back into his usual playful demeanor.

“Well, I’d better go help my mom with dinner,” he said, a little too casually. “You know, so you don’t think I’m just here to torment you all day.”

“Too late for that,” she retorted, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

And as Clark walked away, Y/N found herself watching him longer than she probably should have. It wasn’t just the way he’d changed physically—stronger, taller, more confident. It was the way he seemed to settle back into Smallville with a comfort that felt almost... easy. The way they both fell back into their old rhythm of teasing and rivalry, like time had stood still, despite everything.

But somewhere beneath the playful jabs and the teasing grins, Y/N couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe—just maybe—Clark Kent had grown up in ways she hadn’t expected. And that left her wondering if there was more to the new Clark than the boy who used to torment her so many years ago.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast at the Kent farm, Clark suggested they go on a ride to a place he thought she might like—a small waterfall hidden away just on the outskirts of town. He’d mentioned it casually, like it was no big deal, but Y/N could tell there was something about this spot that meant more to him than he was letting on.

They saddled their horses and set off, the cool morning air whipping past them as they rode side by side through the fields. The peaceful rhythm of the horses' galloping hooves against the dirt seemed to melt away all the tension that had lingered between them the past few days. It was easy, comfortable, in a way Y/N hadn’t expected. There was something about being on horseback, moving through the wide-open space, that made her feel connected to this place again—like she was finding pieces of herself she had forgotten.

Clark led her down a narrow path that wound through trees, and soon the sound of rushing water filled the air. They emerged from the trees and reached the small clearing. There, nestled between moss-covered rocks, was a hidden waterfall, cascading down into a crystal-clear pool below. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the water's surface. It was quieter here, the only sound the rush of water and the occasional birdcall.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, momentarily stunned by the beauty of it. “This is... amazing. I never thought a place like this would be hiding right here.”

Clark smiled, clearly proud of the spot. “Told you. It’s one of my favorite places. Not many people know about it.”

He dismounted, tying the horses to a nearby tree, and then looked over at Y/N. “You should come down to the water. It’s the best part.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, eyeing the small, clear pool at the base of the waterfall. “I don’t know, Clark. It looks kind of... cold.”

Clark grinned. “It’s refreshing. Trust me, you’ll love it. Besides,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you could use a little adventure. Also don’t you have beaches in Malibu?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her own grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, don’t even start with that again.”

But before she could protest any further, Clark was already walking toward the water’s edge, kicking off his boots and rolling up his sleeves. Without warning, he jumped into the sea with a splash, sending water flying in every direction. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, drenched but clearly enjoying himself.

Clark poked his head out from the water, eyes sparkling. “Come on, it’s not so bad!”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing at the sight of him. “You’re crazy,” she called, but even as she said it, she found herself grinning. There was something about seeing him so carefree, so unguarded, that made her feel... lighter, like the tension between them from their childhood had completely evaporated.

After a beat, she hesitated. She hadn’t planned on going into the water, but part of her felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was time to let go of her reservations and enjoy the moment.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N slowly walked toward the water, kicking off her own boots and rolling up her sleeves. She dipped a toe in, testing the water, and winced at the coolness.

“See? Not that bad,” Clark teased, grinning like a boy who had just won a victory.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered, but before she could fully make up her mind, Clark swam closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Race you to the waterfall,” he said, his voice light with playful challenge.

Without waiting for a response, he splashed through the water, making his way toward the base of the waterfall.

Y/N’s competitive spirit flared up instantly. “You’re on!” she shouted, charging after him.

The water was cold, but the rush of the challenge and the sight of Clark splashing ahead of her made her forget the chill. She pushed forward, splashing water everywhere, and as she caught up to him, she could hear him laughing. The sound was carefree, filled with the kind of joy that she hadn’t heard from him in years. It made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for.

Clark reached the waterfall first, turning back to look at her. “I knew you were slow.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare. “Not funny.”

But before she could protest further, Clark lunged toward her and, with a quick move, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the deeper part of the sea. Y/N yelped in surprise, but her protest was cut short as she found herself falling into the cool water, completely submerged for a moment.

She came up sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. “You jerk!”

Clark was already laughing, his eyes full of playful amusement. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased. “You’ve got to admit, it’s fun.”

Y/N wiped the water from her face, but as she looked up at him, something shifted between them. The teasing glint in Clark’s eyes softened for a moment, and for a beat, there was something in his gaze that made her heart skip.

He reached out, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for just a second longer than necessary. “You know, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice quieter now, the teasing gone, replaced by something more genuine.

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Missed what?”

He smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers. “To tease you the whole time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a chuckle, shaking her head. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Clark chuckled, tilting his head as he moved a bit closer. “What exactly do you want me to say, then?”

Y/N found herself looking into his eyes for a moment longer than usual, her breath catching. There was something about his tone, something flirtatious but also not, and it made her feel... strangely open to the moment.

She let out a soft breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Like that you missed me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clark’s gaze softened, a hint of something more real flashing across his expression. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. The teasing was gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding, something deeper than the playful back-and-forth that had defined their relationship for so long.

Clark hesitated for just a heartbeat, before his smile widened. “I think I can say that,” he said, his voice gentle, but there was still that glimmer of playfulness there. “I missed you, Y/N. Even if you were always a little... annoying.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a mix of warmth and something else she couldn't quite place. She tilted her head, her voice playful but soft. “You’re still teasing me.”

Clark’s expression shifted, and for the first time since they hang out the whole time, he seemed to be a little more serious. “Maybe I am, but it’s because I... I don’t know, I like seeing you smile. You don’t even know how much I missed you.”

Y/N’s breath caught again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed for something genuine from him, something that didn’t involve teasing or childish rivalries.

She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm, before letting them fall back to her side. “Well,” she said, her voice softening, “I missed you too, Clark. In my own way.”

Clark didn’t say anything for a moment, as if letting the weight of her words sink in. Then, without warning, he gave her a crooked grin, his tone returning to that teasing edge she was so familiar with. “So, does that mean you’ll forgive me for all the cowboy or malibu jokes?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but this time, the smile on her lips was different—gentler, warmer. “Maybe. But only if you promise not to throw me into the water again.”

Clark laughed, the sound light and easy. “Deal. But just so you know, it was totally worth it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. The moment had shifted from playful banter to something much more. Something real.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of this new side of Clark—this side that made her feel seen, not just as the girl from Malibu, but as someone who could still be a part of Smallville, in her own way.

Maybe it was true, that you’ll always find a way back home.

❀taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @angelsgalore @tinainaction

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

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SECOND (TO NONE) — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n has spent most of her life loving Jack, only to always come up second to her sister

notes: can you tell i love Little Women? with that being said, i was extremely inspired by THE Laurie and Amy scene in Little Women (2019), therefore, one portion of dialogue in this fic is not my own but instead borrowed from the scene and all credits for that go to Greta Gerwig. (5.3k words)

it started on september 20th, 2017.

how pathetic is that? i remember the exact date that my sister brought home the boy i would fawn over for the rest of my days.

i remember it clear as day, though most of it could be from the long-held sisterly grudge of my sister telling me to take the bus home; she was waiting for a friend and didn’t want me ‘bugging’ them.

at the time, i figured it was one of her girl friends. but merely a few hours later, i would meet Jack Hughes.

that day would be the wrecking ball for the next six years of my life. day in and day out, from the ages of fifteen to twenty-one, if you were to ask me what i was thinking of, or rather who, the answer would always be Jack.

i spent years of my life wasting away in the agony of unrequited love. because while i was pining over him, he was pining over her.

*** May 6th, 2018 ***

my shirt sticks to my chest, raindrops drenching my clothing and my shoes thoroughly soaked from deep puddles. laughing as i reach the front porch, i glance behind me in await of my best friend.

“Spencer, you’re getting soaked!” i state, though i’m sure he’s extremely aware of his own status.

“it’s just water, y/n. it’s not hurting anyone.” i roll my eyes, Spencer’s natural poetic demeanor incredibly unsettling for a seventeen year old boy.

as he meets me on the porch, my hand finds the front doorknob, slinging open the door and stepping into the warm air. my clothes drip onto the entrance rug, Spencer pushing me aside in order to step in and shut the door behind us.

“mom! we’re home!” my voice echoes throughout the house as i slip my wet sandals off, dropping my shopping bags on the entryway table, Spencer following suit.

“she’s not home! she’s having lunch with Ellen!” my sister’s voice calls back, drifting towards me from the living room.

wandering down the hallway towards the living area, i peel Spencer’s US National Development Program sweatshirt over my head, my cream colored shirt rising slightly as it sticks to the wet hoodie.

“you’ll never guess who Spence and i saw at the-” my words fail me as i reach the living room, my sister sat on the couch beside her own best friend.

all too quickly, i’m suddenly self-conscious about my appearance. finding insecurity in the way my hair has frizzed up from the humidity of the day, and the way my saturated clothes stick to my body as though covered in honey.

nestled into Jack’s side, Sara raises an eyebrow towards me, her expression silently ordering me to leave; a stark contrast to that of her close friend, who smiles warmly towards me.

“hey, bug.” Jack grins, his arm slung around my sister’s shoulder and effectively stinging my soul. “sup, Spence?”

my best friend smiles at his teammate, ignoring Sara’s deadly stare and making himself at home on the gray couch.

“hey, Hughesy.” Spencer gives a nod of acknowledgment, “hey, malibu barbie.”

“i have a name, Knight.” Sara hisses, her nose scrunching in disgust towards my friend. “you’re getting the couch wet.”

“mhm.” Spencer mindlessly hums, turning his head to look back at my still motionless figure, “you coming, y/n/n?”

nodding, i join the three of them on the ‘L’ shaped couch.

“hi, Jack.” i can feel my face flush already, blood rising to my cheeks; the most traitorous display of my feelings.

but Jack just smiles, “how was the mall? crowded?”

“no, actually pretty empty for a weekend.” i reply, my voice meek.

Spencer cuts in, sending me an obnoxious and horribly hidden smirk, “should’ve come, Hughesy. you could’ve kept me company while this one tried on all her new pretty clothes.”

if this was my friend’s attempt at helping me, it sure was a sucky one. Sara’s eyes bounce between Jack, Spencer, and, i before she rolls them, announcing her departure to the bathroom. pushing off the couch, she knocks Jack’s arm off of her shoulders, his smile dropping just slightly as she leaves the room.

“kinda wanted to go.” Jack clears his throat, “but Sara wasn’t feeling it.”

now it’s Spencer’s turn to roll his eyes, nodding his head in understanding, “ah yes, and what Sara wants, Sara gets.”

if this were any other context, the months-long feud between my sister and my best friend would be amusing me in the highest degree; but in the moment, all i can feel is the nausea that bubbles up as Jack’s cheeks twinge pink at his teammates teasing.

“shut up, Spence.” he mutters, eyes flickering back towards me, slightly widened as if he just remembered i was there, “maybe you should do a fashion show for us, bug. Sara’s told me you used to do them for her when you get new clothes, let us see ‘em!”

the cadence in which he speaks, though i know it’s not his intention, makes me feel small. like i’m a child and not only one year younger than him. and yet, the idea that he wants to see me model all of my new clothes makes my heart flutter in my chest; nearly pounding against the bars of the cage i keep it in, wanting nothing more than for me to confess my feelings right then and there on the fabric couch of my living room, a rom-com, annoyingly fitting of the moment, paused on the tv, and my best friend sat right beside me.

“she told you that?”

“yeah,” his brows furrow, “she tells me plenty of stories of when you guys were younger. i love that she loves you.”

right. this is about her, not me.

i smile halfheartedly as Sara walks back into the room, taking her place back on the couch and underneath Jack’s arm.

for a moment, i wonder if he would still be so smitten if he knew that she doesn’t look at him the way that i do… the way that he looks at her. if he would still pine after her and bend to her will if he knew that she had been going on dates with one of the boys on the soccer team, and that she looked at him with stars in her eyes, the same way Jack looks at her. if he would still look past me, still think of me as nothing more than Sara’s little sister, if he knew she had no intentions to ever make something more of their friendship.

would he move on from her? look for someone else to give his affection to? and would i be wildly insane to wonder if it would be me?

“i actually think i’ll pass,” i finally speak again, a lovelorn quirk to my lips, “don’t want Sara getting any ideas to steal any of my new clothes.”

my sister laughs, eyes twinkling as she winks at me, “i’ll see them next time i go shopping in your closet, don’t worry.”

a small flash of disappointment shines through in Jack’s beautiful blue eyes before he nods, “alright, maybe next time.”

*** January 8th, 2023 ***

“Jack!” my voice carries over the noise of a crowded shoe store in New York City, pushing my way through the people as i watch Jack’s head whip around in confusion. “Jack!”

his eyes scan the store, only landing upon me once i’ve finally made my way through the gaggle of people, now a mere few feet from him.

a bright grin spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, “bug!”

his laugh permeates my ears as i launch myself at him, arms latching around his shoulders and making him teeter in place before finding his core balance, his arms spindling around my waist.

“what are you doing here?” he questions as we pull away, his hands still resting on my waist.

“in a shoe store, or in New York?”

“New York, obviously.” he chuckles.

“girls trip! we were bored out of our minds and decided to spend a couple weeks here.” i explain, craning my neck to see if i can spot my friends in the hectic store.

“we?” he repeats, “is…”

my smile dims at his forlorn yet hopeful expression, shaking my head, “oh, no. she’s not here.”

“i came with some friends.” i tell him and he nods, letting out a seemingly relieved breath. “i’m sorry again, Jack. i can’t believe she-”

“let’s not.” he interjects, “if that’s okay? i’d rather not talk about it.”

i agree, my sisters final rejection of him being the last thing on the list of topics i’d like to discuss with my unrequited teenage love.

“who’s this?” someone cuts in, a hand slapping down on Jack’s shoulder. the new guest has a heavy accent, a neat scruff adorning his face… he’s cute.

“oh, Neeks, this is bug, or sorry, y/n.” Jack’s hands drop from my waist, a long-familiar shiver running through me at the loss of his touch. turning partly towards his friend, Jack’s face brightens again. “y/n, this is my captain, Nico.”

“y/n,” Nico parrots, “you’re Sara’s sister, right?”

it takes everything in me not to cringe, having worked so hard to make myself into my own person now; no longer used to being known as ‘Sara’s sister’ like i was in school.

“yeah.” i sigh, nodding my head, “that’s me.”

i should’ve known better than to think i could be my own person when it comes to Jack. that i could be someone more than the girl who used to follow he and my sister around everywhere.

even with Jack’s new friends, ones that have no connection to me or Sara, i’m still just the little sister of the girl who broke his heart.

“she’s not just Sara’s sister.” Jack tells his captain. he slings an arm around my shoulder, that once disappeared flutter reappearing in my chest, “this girl is the best friend of Spencer Knight and Cole Caufield. she used to go everywhere with us.”

and just like that, the flutter is gone, died out in a sudden burst of flames.

Jack looks down at me, “have you spoken to them recently?”

“yeah.” i force a smile. “i speak to them almost every day.”

“sorry to cut the reunion short, but Jack, we have to go soon.” Nico speaks, gaining Jack’s attention again, “it was nice to meet you, y/n. hopefully i’ll see you again.”

Jack backs away, looking at me again, “text me! you should come to the lake house this summer!”

*** June 20th, 2024 ***

last summer, i spent two weeks of July at the Hughes lake house; my days filled by boating, tanning, and golfing; my nights consisting of bonfires and bars.

it was nice, being surrounded by people i’ve known since high school. i had even convinced Spencer to join me on the trip, though he ended up staying longer than i did.

i felt like those two weeks really helped me solidify myself as more than just ‘Sara’s sister’ to the guys, which provided me with a sense of closure with Jack.

no longer was my mind plagued of thoughts about him anymore. my nights no longer accompanied by dreams of the sweet, blue-eyed boy that i so desperately loved in high school. i felt free.

for the first time since i met him, i was able to date without holding out an unrealistic hope that he would randomly tell me he loved me back.

not long after returning home from the lake house, i met Ryan; a lawyer who knew nothing about the hockey world, which i felt was exactly what i needed.

he asked me out and for once in my life, i was able to say yes without feeling guilty. without feeling like somehow i was cheating on my unrequited love. i was finally able to move on from high school love, for the most part.

on our first few dates, i opened up to Ryan; i told him all about how inexperienced i really was with the dating scene and exactly why. i told him about my six years of unreturned love for my sisters ex-best friend. i told him that i was still friends with him but that i felt that love was in the past. and he was okay with it, he was understanding and sincere and he wanted to be the one i moved on with.

within a few months, i was moved in with Ryan, and now here we are, only a month short of our one year anniversary.

only an hour ago, i arrived to the lake house for the second summer in a row. this time, for a full month of relaxation and catching up with friends. Ryan would meet me here for the last week of my month, it not being quite as easy for him to get away from work as it is for me, and i can’t wait to introduce him to the friends who made high school so easy for me.

“y/n!” my peaceful tanning takes a turn when most of the guys arrive back from the grocery store, Trevor appearing to be the most excited to see me.

my eyelids peel open, hand rising to flick my sunglasses to the top of my head as i look over at the hyper hockey player, “hi, Trev.”

his hands slip into mine, helping me up from the lounge chair in order to sweep me into a tight hug.

“how’s life been?” he grins, pulling back and slinging his arm around my shoulder as he guides us into the house.

i can hear the ruckus of rowdy boys from outside, though that’s not at all shocking, in my experience.

“it’s been great.” my mind flickers to my boyfriend, the one who texted me merely thirty minutes ago to make sure i made it here safe, promising to call me when he gets his lunch break, “really great.”

at my pink cheeks and surely dopey smile, Trevor guffaws, pinching my cheek as we step into the house, “did our little bug get a boyfriend?!”

the house goes silent, Trevor’s voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the downstairs.

“i’m not little.” i mumble, effectively embarrassed by the overwhelming reaction to the news, “i’m only a year younger than you.”

Cole and Spencer are the only two who already knew of the progression in my dating life, being the two people i talk to the most.

“you have a boyfriend?” a voice chimes from my left, and i look over to find Jack, his face soft and his hands full of grocery bags.

i bite back a smile, suddenly feeling hot under all their gazes. nodding, i speak again, “yeah, his name is Ryan. he’s the plus-one i asked about.”

“he’s here?!” Trevor shouts in exasperation.

i giggle, shaking my head at the way the guys all start looking around, all but Jack, “no! he’s coming in a few weeks! he can’t get off work so easily.”

Trevor drags me to the couch, Jack’s eyes following me as he sets the groceries on the table, slowly dragging his feet behind everyone towards the living room.

“what does he do?” “how old is he?” “is he treating you right?” “is he a hockey fan?” “is he hot?”

my brows furrow at the last question thrown at me, looking at Alex in bewilderment, “what? i feel like it’s a good question.”

a hearty laugh drops from my lips, lowering myself to the couch in preparation to answer their many questions.

“he’s a lawyer, he’s twenty-nine, he treats me amazingly, he’s not a hockey fan, and i think he’s pretty hot.”

a collective gasp is heard around the room, my friends looking at me in utter disbelief, “he’s not a hockey fan?”

Cole shudders, as if the idea is the worst thing possible, “you left that out.”

“i couldn’t have you hating on him!” i shout in defense. my eyes scan the room of guys, finally landing on Jack, who stands in the entrance of the room, his hands in his pockets and his lips downturned.

“is that really what you guys are focusing on?” he scoffs and my eyebrows pinch in confusion at his sour mood, “he’s seven years older than her, and you guys are more worried about the fact that he doesn’t like hockey?”

a small part of me feels like a teenager again, honored that he’s so worried about me, but a much larger part of me is offended for both me and my boyfriend.

“i’m an adult, Jack. i can make my own decisions and i’m very aware of Ryan and i’s age gap, but if i’m not uncomfortable with it then why should you be?”

Jack raises a brow at my spiteful tone, clearly not used to having it used on him, “i’ve known you for nearly seven years, bug. i’m just looking out for you.”

“well don’t,” i sneer, “i didn’t ask for you to look out for me. it’s not your job.”

the other boys squirm amidst the tension between Jack and i, Quinn the first to speak up again.

“so, how serious are you guys?”

Quinn’s question gathers my attention again, butterflies swarming in my stomach as i remember a moment just a couple weeks ago.

“i think he’s gonna propose soon.” i confess, my face burning as Spencer lets out an ‘ooooh!’

“i found a ring in his nightstand drawer a few weeks ago, i think he might do it on our anniversary.”

Cole reacts first, pulling me in for a hug as the others cheer out a premature ‘congratulations’, only one member of the group staying silent. but when i look back at the living room entrance, Jack is gone.

“i think this calls for some boating!” Trevor sings out, already jumping up from his seat to go get changed.

“you just want an excuse to go out on the boat!” Luke yells, Trevor nodding in agreement as he disappears up the stairs.

after an entire week of boating, wakesurfing, and golfing, we end our sunday night around a bonfire.

orange flames lick at the air, the added heat making the summer night sweltering. yet, most of us can be found sitting around the fire pit, enjoying each other’s company.

“dude, she wasn’t flirting with you.” Cole yells across the blazing fire to Trevor, who’s still convinced the girl he met this afternoon was hitting on him.

“she so was!” Trevor huffs, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

almost everyone rolls their eyes, the rest of us knowing the girl was incredibly uninterested in the hyperactive twenty-three year old.

“y/n, she was flirting with me, right?!” Trevor turns to me, eyes wide in await of my agreement, but it never comes.

scrunching my nose, my head shakes in denial, making him groan.

“the only other girl has spoken… that was not flirting!” Spencer announces, “better luck next time, Z.”

“i don’t think y/n would know flirting if it hit her in the face. she doesn’t count.” Jack laughs, raising his beer up to his lips as he smirks at my offended expression.

“i have a boyfriend! i know what flirting looks like!”

“a soon to be fiancé.” Alex wiggles his eyebrows, shimmying his shoulders in a teasing manner as he stands up, “i’m heading inside, it’s too hot out here.”

a few others mutter in agreement, rising from their chairs and following him into the house, leaving just me, Spencer, and Jack.

i sit in silence, watching the flames as the two boys converse, not yet ready to head inside. instead, i’m pulled off in my own thoughts, my mind twisting as i think of this past week.

i thought Jack and i were fine. he said last summer that he didn’t hold my sisters rejection against me, but now i’m wondering if he was lying. ever since i’ve arrived, he’s been nothing but cold shouldered and a bit bitter towards me.

but the oddest part is that it hurts me more than i’d like it to. it feels like my teenage years all over again, vying for his attention and affections, desperate for him to love me. i thought i was over this unreciprocated love, but now here i am again, my only comfort being the knowledge that Jack doesn’t love me like that, but i have someone back home who does.

Spencer’s lips press to the crown of my head, pulling my head out of my thoughts.

“i’m heading inside.” he tells me, earning a nod of acknowledgment from me as i tell him i’ll probably be in soon.

and then there were two.

Jack and i sit in silence for a while, neither of us daring to break the peace as we admire the fire. i push up from my seat, stepping a bit closer to the fire pit in order to watch the orange burn of the logs.

“don’t marry him.”

my head snaps over to Jack, his eyes now glued to me as my face contorts in confusion.

“what?” i gawk.

“don’t marry him.” he repeats, finally standing from his chair.

“why?”

“why?” he scoffs, “you know why.”

my mind is racing, my heart beating wildly in my chest as i turn to face him completely.

“no.” i shake my head, realization settling deep within the pits of my stomach, “no.”

“yes.” he steps closer, a mere 5 feet from me now, and i instinctively take a step back.

all week he’s been sour towards me and i’ve wondered what it meant, and now i know. he’s upset.

upset with me for finding someone else.

“no. Jack, you’re being mean.” i frown. old feelings rise inside of me, nausea plaguing me as tears spring to my eyes, and Jack closes up the space between us, his hand grasping my arm lightly, “stop it, stop it!”

“what? how am i being mean?” he mumbles, brows threading together as i shake off his touch.

“i have been second to Sara my whole life. in everything!” i cry lightly, “and i will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her.”

i step away, slowly backing up towards the house, still facing the man who held my heart for so long, only now wanting me when i’m finally taken.

“i won’t-” i stutter, gasping for breath, “i won’t do it. i won’t. not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

Jack’s lips part as he stands in place, as if shocked. as though he wasn’t expecting such an easy confession to tumble from my lips.

“you just-” i sigh, tears spilling over my waterline as i freeze, the joints of my thumbs being pressed to my eyes in attempt to stop my crying, “why don’t you want me to be happy, Jack?

“i spent six years pining for you. i would’ve done anything to get you to love me. and all you wanted was her! and i don’t hate you for that, i can’t be mad at you, you can’t help who you love; but now that i’ve tried to move on, you want to tell me that i shouldn’t marry him? you don’t even love me!”

anger bubbles within me at the audacity that he holds, my hand flying between us in emphasis of my emotions.

“yes, i do!” he spits back, stepping towards me, “don’t tell me what i feel! just because i may not have felt it back then doesn’t mean i can’t feel it now!”

“you only want me because you can’t have her!” i argue.

“you keep saying that but that’s not true! and no matter how many times you say it, it’s not just gonna magically become true, y/n!

“maybe you want to be right because it would make this easier on you. but the truth is that spending time with you without Sara around just gave me the opportunity to get to know the real you. and yes, maybe i didn’t love you like this then, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that i love you now.”

his chest heaves as he closes the space between us once more, staring down at me the exact way that i’ve looked at him all these years; like i’m the only person in the world for him. like i hung the stars in the sky to shine just for him. like i hold his heart in my hands, the fate of his existence weighing in my decisions.

“i love the way you smile and the way that you speak so softly.” he whispers breathily, “i love seeing you in your glasses late at night, and the fact that somehow you’re always cold. i love your kind heart and the way that you care about everyone you meet, so easily. i love your smart mind and the fact that even though you know you’re smarter than literally everyone here, you don’t show it off or make us feel dumb. instead, you correct us lightly, even if it’s Trevor being stubborn and insisting he’s right.”

i let out a raspy chuckle at his words, tears still silently falling down my cheeks.

“i love your determination and that when you set your mind to something, you achieve it. i love your good and even what you say are your flaws. i love you, y/n. and i’m sorry that i didn’t see it before. tell me to back off and i will. tell me you choose him and i’ll leave you alone, i won’t push it. but i needed to tell you how i feel before it was too late.”

he finally ends his speech, his eyes flickering between my own and my lips.

my mind feels numb yet entirely too full with this new knowledge, and i can’t process it all with him staring at me expectantly.

“can i think about this? please?” i question, pulling away, “this is a lot for me to process right now and i need some time, Jack.

“i spent so long trying to get over you. i thought you would never like me the way that i like you, and now you’re telling me this and i have to make a decision and i just-”

“of course.” Jack cuts me off, nodding, “take however long you need. i don’t want you to feel rushed; really think about it, bug. i don’t want you to choose me just because you feel like you have to. if you want him, then choose him. but if you want me, i’m here. i’m telling you that i love you and i want you, and i’ll wait however long you need.”

i nod, turning and finally walking into the house, hands swiftly wiping at my cheeks to try and get rid of my tears before i reach the door, but it’s useless. just as fast as i wipe the old tears, new ones follow.

“and i— y/n, you okay?” Luke asks, stopping his story to the guys as i rush through the living room and towards the stairs.

i stop at the first step, sniffling but not turning to face them, “yeah, i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

a chorus of ‘goodnight’s are shouted my way as i ascend the stairs, shutting myself in my bedroom and locking the door.

crumpling to the bed, my tears won’t stop, heavy sobs wracking my chest.

hours pass by slowly until it’s eight in the morning, my body exhausted and aching from tossing and turning all night. i couldn’t shut my mind off, no matter how hard i tried.

i feel so conflicted, my heart being pulled into two directions, but i know that one direction is stronger than the other.

no matter how hard i tried to move on, i should’ve known that there was no ‘moving on’ from Jack. those feelings would always linger, still hidden under the guise of closure and friendship.

Jack is my home. my heart will always lie with him, no matter how long passes or who i meet.

my thumb hovers over Ryan’s contact, shaking but otherwise frozen, my body overwhelmed with anxiety at what might await me at the other end of the phone call.

the dial tone rings out, my cellphone now being pressed to my ear as i await the greeting from the other side.

“hey, babe. i was just about to call you.”

“you were?” my tone is raspy and low, my throat sore from crying.

“yeah, somethings come up. i don’t think i can make it on the trip like we planned.” a sense of relief fills me at his words.

“oh, that’s okay. i actually think i’m gonna come back early.” i tell him, my eyes staring straight ahead of me at my half packed suitcase.

“why’s that?”

“i think we need to talk.” i confess, pressure building back up on my chest as i think about the conversation awaiting me back home.

Ryan sighs gently and i can hear some papers being shuffled around, the creak of a door shutting before he speaks again.

“did you sleep with him?”

“what?” i’m appalled, my lips parted in disbelief.

“Jack. did you sleep with him?” he wonders so easily, like he just assumed it would happen.

“no!” i scoff.

“then it’s okay.” he replies, and though i don’t know how he would know, i can tell; he knows what i have to tell him. “i expected it. i really liked you, and i know you really liked me, but i’ve known from the start that i couldn’t compare to him.

“you may have have liked me, but you love him.” he tells me, “i just hope he doesn’t take you for granted, because you deserve the best. and if he is that for you, then i’m happy for you. but if he treats you like anything less… don’t settle, y/n.”

just when i had thought i had nothing left to give, more tears run down my rose tinted cheeks, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” he’s stern with his words, showing me he means them, “i assume he told you how he feels?”

“yeah.” i sigh, “he loves me.”

“then don’t be sorry. you deserve to love and to be loved.”

“thank you.”

he mutters a goodbye, the call ending, and i feel a sense of determination flood through my veins.

rising off my bed, i fling open my bedroom door, stomping down the steps until i reach the kitchen, where i can hear the boys discussing the plan for the day.

at my whirlwind arrival, the boys silence, watching me with baited breath and curious eyes as i stalk towards Jack, who stands frozen at the counter.

“what’s going o-” Trevor’s words are quieted by the sound of my hand smacking against Jack’s cheek. the boys gasping at my action before Trevor begins to laugh.

“that’s for waiting so long.” i huff and Jack nods robotically.

“so i’m guessing that’s a no?” he wonders, voice solemn, as though accepting defeat.

“shut up.” i whisper.

my hands glide over his shoulders, wrapping around the nape of his neck as i pull him down towards me, crashing my lips upon his in a bruising kiss.

“oh!” “what the fuck!”

our friends reactions are thoroughly ignored, Jack’s hands coming to rest on my waist, his fingers gripping into my hips as he deepens the kiss. his tongue slides past my parted lips, but i pull away before we can get any farther in front of our friends.

“and that’s my decision.” i whisper, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips, “don’t make me regret it.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it, bug.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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sweeterthanficstion · 13 days ago

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— coast2coast (pt. two) || l.s.k

pairing: life guard!leon kennedy x surfer!fem!reader

tags: surfing au! set in malibu, 1998, i wrote this with re2 leon in mind but re4 leon works too, UNEDITED! fluff, fluff, fluff

summary: Summer is a fickle thing, sticky-sweet and fleeting, gone before you're ready. You've learnt to love it while it lasts. For you, every summer has been the same—surf, sand, salt-water tides and the hot Malibu breeze. But this summer brings a new sort of challenge, a spotlight your not so sure you're ready for, as well as a boy with golden hair, eyes as blue as the waves, and a way of making your heart rattle between your ribs like it’s desperate to break free.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: ngl yall this actually sucked the life out of me, i'm high on like 3 choccy milks and delirious and tired i have work tmrw i wanna sleep.... anyway thank u cressie for providing me with million ideas this ones to u cheers *raises choccy milk to u* --- also sorry i literally hate writing dialogue but this ended up being more dialogue than anything im so sorry in advance if anything sounds WEIRD </3

playlist⭑series masterlist⭑AO3 || part 1⭑part 2⭑part 3 (coming soon)

You have this recurring dream that feels like a distant memory. Washed in milky sunlight, somewhere in Santa Monica, you lost yourself to hot summer days and salt-water tides, sticky fruit juice running down your arms, and the sting of a sunburn peeling across your shoulders.

The year was 1986, August was young and so were you. You’d learn this year just how quickly it’d slip through your fingers.

Barefoot and sun-dazed, you’d escape to the beach each evening. There, you met a boy by the waves. Older, taller, with sun-bleached hair and sun-kissed cheeks.

You remember a sunset that bled out over the water that evening, long and golden. His laugh echoed yours, and you smiled when he did. He must’ve been summer personified, you’d concluded. With his hair like sunshine and eyes like the ocean…

You never did learn his name.

You startle awake to the sound of your alarm clock blaring angrily atop your bedside table. Groaning, you slam a groggy hand down on it, killing the noise, and drag yourself out of bed in twenty minutes flat, your surfboard tucked under your arm.

You track the familiar path behind your old oceanfront home, the sandy trail winding its way down the bluff like a lazy ribbon, overgrown with beach grass and wildflowers that nod in the soft morning breeze. Thick sycamore trees stretch their sprawling branches overhead, casting the path in dappled shadows, leaving behind little islands of light that shimmer over the fine sand. It smells like salt and earth, and the faintest hint of blooming jasmine from somewhere you’ve never quite been able to pinpoint.

Ahead of you, at the base of the trail, your view opens up to the rocky cove that cradles your little slice of the coast. Tucked away from prying eyes, smooth stone outcrops rise like bones from the earth, their surfaces slick with sea spray. Between them, shallow rock pools glimmer in the early morning light, and if you look close enough, you’re sure you’ll find tiny crabs skittering to hide under the lichen-covered stone.

You leap from stone to stone, board tucked under your arm all the while. Your bare feet always know exactly where to land without slipping.

The sandy shore calls to you in the familiar language of gulls overhead and the steady rush and retreat of waves against the rocks. That’s where Claire will be, you know—her board already waxed and her camera slung over her shoulder.

Claire’s love for the ocean has always been as steadfast as yours, but is her own secret language all the same. Where you see the waves as an escape to get lost in, she sees them as her muse.

By the time she was twelve, her parents had bought her a little film camera, and she’d started seeing the world in snapshots and light leaks.

Hopping down from the rock, with your board under one arm and your sandals dangling from your fingers, you make your way to the sand.

You spot Claire easily, a blur of sun-kissed skin and red hair, crouched by the shoreline with her camera in hand.

She must hear you coming, or maybe it’s years of friendship that stirs the feeling in her chest and urges her to look up.

“Morning, sunshine,” she calls, grin as wide as the ocean behind her.

“Morning,” you echo, dropping your board on to the sand before you follow suit, knees bumping hers as you settle beside her. She hands you her wax wordlessly without a second thought, a quiet, easy rhythm of familiarity you’ve both fallen into over the years.

You think that’s why you love her, love this. Corral Beach is stagnant, always will be. Even the tides seem to move in a familiar pattern around here. After years of following your parents around the globe, constantly chasing something new, you think this is what you need.

“You’re slow today,” Claire hums after a while, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Something on your mind?”

You shrug your shoulders instead, unsure of how to put into words the strangeness in your chest after a lingering dream that feels more like deja vu. “Just savouring it. The water’s not going anywhere.”

“Good thing,” she quips, before leaning back on her hands. Her gaze fixes on the horizon for a moment, but Claire’s never been one for small talk, it’s not long before her eyes dart back to you. “So…”

Here it comes.

“Have you thought about that surf comp yet?” She asks, tilting her head at you in the way she does when she’s trying to be casual but failing miserably.

You groan in dramatics, dragging out the sound as your head falls back. “Claire.”

“What?” She feigns innocence. “It’s not like I’m saying you have to sign up right this second.”

“Not happening,” you sing-song, getting to your feet and taking your board with you.

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t be like that,” she rolls her eyes, watching you make your way towards the water.

“Can’t hear you!” you shout dramatically, cupping your hand around your ear is if the waves are just too loud.

She raises an eyebrow, her grin sharpening into something knowing. “Oh, you heard me.”

“Nope, not a word!” you call back with a shrug, and before she can press further, you break into a sprint, your feet kicking up sprays of sand as you rush toward the shoreline.

You can hear Claire laughing as you wade into the cool surf, the water rushing up eagerly to greet you. She doesn’t follow with her longboard in tow, and when you look over your shoulder, the rising sun warming your back, you see her still at the shore, camera held at the ready as she flashes you a thumbs up instead.

The ocean seems to move in whispers beneath you, gentle ripples that build into the promise of a wave. You see it first—a set forming, steady and clean, beckoning you like a siren's call you can’t deny. You paddle out towards it, letting the swell lift you effortlessly. The ocean is alive beneath you, humming its own rhythm, and you move with it.

The wave stretches on, long and peeling, giving you time to cut back and forth across its glassy face. You dip low, almost touching the water with your hand, then push into a sharp turn, feeling the spray kiss your legs.

As the wave softens, you coast to a gentle stop, stepping off your board into the shallow surf. The sand squishes under your toes, and it’s only then you see Claire waving her camera in triumph.

“That’s the one!” She grins, as you wade back towards her, the waves still lapping at your ankles as if begging you to come back.

Claire meets you halfway, tilting the camera to show you the screen: It’s the perfect shot of you mid-turn, your board slicing through the wave, sunshine filtering through and catching the spray just right, refracting in tiny rainbows like a million scattered diamonds. You have to admit, you do look killer.

“Are you gonna upload that one?” you ask, brushing wet hair from your face.

Claire looks at you like it’s a silly question. “Are you kidding? Look at this, it’s perfect. Surfline is gonna eat this up—and if they don’t, they’re insane.”

Her passion radiates off her in waves like the tide does. Claire’s been at this for months now, chasing every opportunity she can find to get her photos not just noticed, but seen. You’ve just about lost count of how many times she’s sent in shots to Surfline.

“Now c’mon,” she continues, “show me what else you’ve got.”

And you do. Over and over, the waves pulling you in, the ocean pulling you home. By the time the sun rises higher in the sky, Claire’s memory card is nearly full, and you’re sure you’ll be late to your shift at Bunny’s if you let yourself fall into the ocean’s allure for any longer. The cove has started to fill with other locals, the place a well kept secret between surfers wanting a quiet retreat.

Claire waits as you shake the last of the saltwater from your hair—or, well, try to—perched atop the sun-bleached remains of an old tree topped sideways. Her legs swing lazily, her tote bag by her feet.

Something must catch her eye, because suddenly she’s letting out a gasp.

“Holy shit.”

Her voice is nearly reverent. You pause, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see him.

And yeah, Holy shit.

It’s then you see him again, and it feels like magic watching him cut through the wave he’s catching with the ease of someone who does really know what they’re doing.

Blue-eyed blondie from yesterday is out in the surf, carving through the water like he’s part of it, like he’s spent his whole life learning how to move with it instead of against it. He’s all ease, all instinct, cutting clean lines into the wave before it folds beneath him.

It’s hypnotic. Magic, almost.

“He’s good,” Claire murmurs.

“Yeah,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze away from him. He is good. Too good for someone who claimed to be just okay.

And then, as if he sensing your gaze, he falters.

A hair-width miscalculation, a break in his rhythm, something or other. Then he’s toppling off his board and crashing into the whitewater with all the grace of a bird missing a branch.

There’s but a breath of silence before Claire cackles. “Poor guy.”

You bite down a smile, shaking your head.

“Do you know him?” Claire asks, jogging to catch up as you start walking back toward the trail, her longboard dragging behind her in the sand. “I’ve never seen him around, I wonder how he knows about the cove.”

“No,” you say too quickly before realising how it sounds, “yes? Sort of.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, as if catching onto something unspoken, and you wish all at once for the ground to swallow you up. “That’s not an answer.”

“I met him at the beach yesterday, he saved my board.”

“Oh,” she says, her tone lifting like something just clicked into place. Then, after a pause: “So…”

“So what?” You glance at her, sounding a little exasperated.

“So… what’s the deal? Did you talk to him? Does he live around here?”

You groan. “Claire, it’s nothing. I don’t know.”

“Mm-hmm,” Her grin spreads wider, brighter, knowing. “You’re antsy.”

“No I’m not!” you say firmly, picking up your pace like it’ll somehow leave this conversation behind.

“Sure,” she hums. “Whatever you say.”

The next time you see him is during the afternoon rush at Bunny’s.

The late-afternoon heat hangs over Corral Beach, and the diner feels like it’s baking under the weight of too many bodies pressed into too small a space. The air conditioner rattles helplessly above the front counter, but it does little to cut through the syrupy warmth.

You’ve been working at Bunny’s long enough to know the rhythm of summer shifts like the back of your hand, the sound of the kitchen, the clatter of dishes, Claire humming along to the shitty little radio perched atop the front desk.

You’ve got a tray of iced teas balanced on one hand, weaving around chairs, tables, and sketchup sticky toddlers, when the bell over the door jingles.

“Welcome to Bunny’s!” Claire chirps from the register, her voice bright and automatic.

And you don’t look up at first, mind too occupied on your tasks, but then—

“Uh, hi. I—oh, no, you first. Wait— oh, okay.”

That voice. It lilts over the chatter, low and sweet like something you’ve heard all your life.

You turn instinctively, and there he is—standing awkwardly in the entryway, looking like he’s just wandered off a postcard. Blondie, with his damp hair curling at the ends, a stripe of sand on his forearm, like he didn’t quite get it all off. He’s holding the door open for an older couple, sweet boyish grin across his face as they thank him.

He’s swapped out the lifeguard uniform for a thin cotton shirt, and a puka shell necklace.

You blink, fingers tightening around the tray. You wonder by what twist of fate you’ve managed to run into him again.

“Hey, table four’s waiting on their drinks,” Claire calls, snapping you out of it.

“Right, yeah.”

You drop your gaze, forcing yourself to focus as you slip between tables, pretending the sight of him doesn’t tie your stomach into some ridiculous knot.

It’s not even like he’ll recognise me, you tell yourself as you weave between tables, dropping drinks off at one and sliding a basket of fries onto another. But when you glance back towards the door, you catch him talking to Claire at the register, and your pulse trips over itself.

You head back toward the counter, heart sinking with every step, trying to avoid his gaze, save yourself from any possible embarrassment, say you trip over your own feet or say something utterly stupid.

But Blondie’s perceptive, apparently, just as he’s about to turn away, he does a double take, like he wasn’t expecting you to be here, like maybe he’s not even sure it’s really you. His brows pinch slightly, lips parting as he huffs an amused breath.

“Guess Malibu’s smaller than I thought,” his voice is smooth where you feel jittery all over.

Claire’s brows shoot up, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, so you two know each other?”

He glances at you again, that stupid smile on his lips. “Yeah.”

“No,” you blurt at the same time, you turn to fiddle with the drinks machine to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Well not really,” you mumble.

Leon’s mouth quirks into the faintest of smiles, like you’ve confirmed some suspicion of his. “That clears things up.”

“I don’t know you,” you mumble, more to yourself than him, though it doesn’t sound nearly as dismissive as you’d hoped. It’s true in half, you don’t know him. Don’t even know his name yet. But why then does it feel like you’ve inexplicably known him forever?

“You could,” he offers, voice light, but his expression betrays him—like his own boldness catches him off guard.

You bite back a smile. “Don’t push it.”

“You’re holding up the line,” Claire chimes in, all too entertained by whatever this is.

There is no line, unless you count the kids loitering by the counter, trying to nonchalantly steal more straws to build their makeshift tower.

Blondie raises his hands as if in surrender, “alright, well what do you suggest?” And he’s looking at you when he asks.

God, damn him and those eyes. He has a way of making you feel like the center of the world. You clear your throat, slipping back into safe, scripted territory. “We have the best shrimp tacos on this stretch of the PCH,” you say, repeating the slogan on the chalkboard outside with practiced ease.

His smile softens, like maybe he finds your delivery a little more amusing than convincing. “Sure. Shrimp tacos it is.”

Claire rings him up, and he reaches into the pocket of his board shorts, presumably for his wallet, but before he turns away, he hesitates briefly. “Actually— I was wondering if I could ask a favour.”

You quirk a brow. “Uhuh?”

“Was wondering if you could, y’know… show me a few moves.”

You blink. “Moves?”

“Surfing,” he clarifies.

“You don’t need my help, you’re already great.” You chuckle softly, not exactly sure what to do to hide the heat creeping up your neck now.

His mouth twitches, as if fighting another one of his stupid smirks. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“Oh… uh,” You rub the back of your neck, suddenly regretting your words. “This morning. At the cove.”

His lips part slightly before he lets out a short, incredulous laugh. “Malibu can’t be this small.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Anyway, yes or no?”

You narrow your eyes a little, “What’s in it for me?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “You owe me one don’t you, for your board? Unless you’re scared of a little challenge.”

You scoff at that. “Oh, watch it, Blondie.”

The grin lingers, easy and teasing. “It’s Leon,” and something about his voice softens. “You can call me Leon. And you?”

You don’t answer right away, caught up in the way his name rings around your head, the way it suits him somehow—like salt air and early mornings and something easy.

His lips press together, “Alright then,” he murmurs, pushing back from the counter, his eyes still on you. “Keep your secrets, sunshine.”

You roll your eyes but don’t fight the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

His order is up in five, and when you slide the basket of tacos across the counter, there’s a napkin tucked underneath—your name scrawled across it in quick, slightly smudged ink, punctuated with a little smiley face.

likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3

#spilled ink ₊˚⊹♡#oh also i actually need yall to listen to shell by ethan tasch i had that on REPEAT writing this i hope u can feel it when you read <3 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfiction #sweeterthanficstion #coast2coast #surfer!leon

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tess-----sims · 4 months ago

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♡ sabrina's weekend in malibu lookbook

1 hair || top || jeans || heels || bag 2 hair || bikini || wrap || sandals 3 hair || minidress || sneakers || socks 4 top || skirt || sandals || hat || glasses

thanks to all the lovely cc creators @clumsyalienn @korkassims @eunosims @jius-sims @rimings @simstrouble @caio-cc @simpliciaty-cc @mochizencc @daylifesims

#simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 cc #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 cc #ts4 simblr #sims community #the sims4 #showusyoursims #sims 4 lookbook #sims lookbook #show us your sims #sims 4 cas #sims4 #ts4 lookbook

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myaeomi-sims · 6 months ago

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♡ malibu shoreline - cc links ♡

cas video || patreon sim download

eirene hair ♡ hair flower ♡ perla necklace ♡ nails ♡ sandals

outfit 1

top ♡ shorts

outfit 2

clara dress

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year ago

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Smash!

An Elvis Presley fan fic one-shot

Summary: Eadie is walking up the canyon to her uncle's house when a beautiful stranger almost runs her over, out on a car ride to clear his mind. Inspired by a memo from the amazing Hal Wallis before Easy Come, Easy Go, complaining that fans and movie theater owners think Elvis looks bad, his hair is too fluffy and black, and he "doesn't look like a Navy frogman...."

A response to the writing prompt to write a scenario involving Elvis and a car/

WC: 2.7 K

Warnings: None, a non-deadly car crash, and probably typos. I tend to leave these writing prompts to work on during the day Sunday, and I am not sure this one turned out very well... but oh well I said I was posting it.

Tagging my compatriots @vintageshanny @be-my-ally @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime

Friday, September 9, 1966

Countyline Beach, the very edge of Malibu

It was getting harder to read in the evening light, and Eadie decided to give up, placing Valley of the Dolls down on her blanket. Setting back, she lingered on the beach, watching the orange and pink hues follow the sun and dance across the water in a rainbow of reflections just for her. It was lonely back at the empty house, but also a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Jakarta, which had been home for the last three years. Los Angeles was its own foreign terrain, a fact she had discovered after stepping off the plane last week, and she had yet to learn the rhythms and practices of its natives.

Looking out at the water, she stood, and wiped the sand off the bottom of her thighs, readying herself to walk back across the highway to canyon where her uncle lived. Eadie covered her eyes and looked over at Neptune’s Net, the run down, biker bar on the other side of the highway, and considered going for a beer and maybe some human contact. But she still didn’t yet feel confident using US money, and the line of Harley Davidsons out front gave her pause.

So, instead, Eadie slipped her sandals back on, threw everything in her bag, and walked leisurely across the empty two lane highway that stretched between the burnt, brown foothill of the Santa Monica mountains to the beach. Looking over her shoulder as she started up the hill, she mused at how lucky she was to be here in the first place, housesitting on the beach in America, and made a mental note to ask how she could help out more when Uncle Ian returned from New York. She wanted to be the kind of useful, grateful, houseguest he would invite to stay as long as she liked.

The sun was almost completely gone as she trekked up the hill, and Eadie startled when, lost in her own thoughts, she saw a large, chocolate poodle running down along the other side of the road. She walked to the middle of the lane, slapping her thighs and whistling, then slowly taking another step. Her stomach was a ball of nerves thinking of the highway 30 yards down the canyon, and what could happen to the dog if she didn’t catch it.

“Come here, boy, come here.” Eadie whispered in a slow, friendly voice.

The dog paused and quirked its ears up at her, and the recognition in its big brown eyes made her smile.

“That’s a goooood boy.”

Confident she was gaining its trust, Eadie slowly stepped towards the animal, and was just about to take another when the sudden loud roar of a car engine bounding down the canyon startled the dog into the brush. Eadie jumped back and fell down in the wake of the black convertible that swerved into the big rock on the other side of the road.

Eadie opened her eyes. The sounds of metal crashing and tires squeaking, followed by a stream of steady expletives, filled her ears. The swearing got closer as she heard a rush of footsteps that brought a tall, dark-haired man into view above her. She rubbed her eyes again, trying to focus. His blue eyes were terrified, and his face was pale, drained of blood, as he leaned down to prop her up from the dirt.

“Hey, hey hey hey hey, now, baby. You’re ok, you’re ok.”

Eadie put her arms around him, instinctively, before looking over at the crunched, smoking engine. Still in shock, she slapped his chest several times before realizing her palm was skinned and she was smudging blood all over his blue shirt.

“What the devil! Do you have any idea how reckless you are? You bloody fool, you could have died, or killed someone, driving down the canyon like that.”

The man shook his head, wiping her hair out of her face.

“And I s’pose where you come from, standing in the middle of the street is considered safe, huh?"

Then she remembered why she had been in the middle of the road.

“Wait, wait, I was in the- it - was - there was - oh no, there was a dog, there was a dog, put me down, we have to go save it.”

Eadie tried to stand, but stumbled, leaning on the man as she tried to walk another step, turning and looking around for the poodle. She almost went down completely on her next step, and so she didn’t protest when he scooped her up into his arms, but she continued to look around anxiously. Her stomach was tight again as she imagined the dog running out into one of the roads nearby.

“He was just here, please, I cannot bear to think of him running around loose, he’ll get run over, please. go see if you can catch him.”

The man shifted, his arms fixed around Eadie as he swung around in a circle, unable to ignore the intense urgency in her voice.

“Honey, there ain’t no dog here, wouldn't know which way to go.”

“Please, you’ve got to go look for him, I’ll never forgive myself, just set me down on your boot. There. He went off that way.”

The man looked deep into her eyes as he set her down on the trunk of his car, and walked over to grab her missing sandal and her other things laying in the middle of the road. He knelt down, wiped off her foot and slid her shoe on, in an almost maternal manner, then rubbed her calf before he standing all the way back up. He stared at her expectantly, as if he was waiting for her to say something. So she did, gesturing toward the brush

"Please."

“Listen, I can’t go chasing after some dog, lil girl, but I bet you dollars to donuts he's gone on home. Dogs are smarter than we give 'em credit. But I can't go a wild goose chase, baby, I gotta figure out what I’m gonna do about this goddamn mess.” He kicked the front wheel of his car.

Eadie frowned, a wave of guilt washed over her. The dog, his car, the evening had turned into a fiasco in the blink of an eye. She bobbed her head in agreement, the guy was right, and she felt even worse noticing the smoke that was still coming out of his smashed hood.

“Oh, and your car. Think it will run?

“Oh sure, it'll run, alright. Run right into the junk yard. Ya not a mechanic, are you? The engine's gone, but also once a car gets all smashed up, it ain't never drive right again. Needs to be put out to pasture. Gonesville."

She watched as he looked past her, out the ocean, and his eyes got a sort of far away look, as if he were no longer talking about the car, but something deeper. His voice was so melancholy, Eadie's face crumpled in sympathy and a whimper escaped her throat. She wiped her eyes.

"Ugh, I think I'm in shock, still. But I'm sorry about your car, I really am. I feel so horrible."

The guy forced a half smile. "Aw, don't cry ,baby, I hardly had a chance to get attached.”

As if on cue, one of the gaskets popped and another furl of smoke went up from the engine.

“Oh it was new, that's even worse. And such a lovely car, though the steering wheel still seems like it’s on the wrong side, to me.”

“English?”

“Mhmmm, I’m Ian’s niece, I just got into town. You one of his neighbors?”

The man put his hands at his waist, or rather right below, and tapped his fingers over the top of his thighs as he leaned forward. He paused, lip hanging open, as he looked up from under his eyebrows at the road he had just come down and the handful of houses jutting out from the hills.

“Am I one of Ian’s neighbors?” He repeated back, the hint of an indignant smile curled at the side of his mouth. As if she had asked the set up to a joke.

“I haven’t met all of you, just Sarah and Mack, across from him. I’m Ian’s, niece, Eadie.”

She stuck out her hand, waiting as he hesitated, shifting and clicking his tongue before he shook it.

“Huh. Yeah, I think you might still be in shock honey, maybe you hit your head. How many fingers am I holding up?”

He passed his forefinger in front of her eyes, watching as she tracked it.

“Two. Look, I , I - I think I’m ok to walk back to the house. How far up are you?”

The man shifted, mumbling something to himself under his breath that she couldn't make out. “Well, that sonofabitch mus really be right, people ain’t even recognizing me.”

He met her questioning eyes, and spoke up.

“Ugh, nah, I don’t live up there, jus took a turn off Mulholland to go for a drive along the coast, blow off some steam. It’s been a rough week, boy, been a rough week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, what line of work are you in?”

Eadie pushed off the car as she spoke, testing her balance and pulling her sun dress down over her scraped knees. She was just beginning to really feel the sore twinge running through her back from the fall. Looking over at him, it struck her that the stranger was standing in a way that almost suggested he was posing for her, and it made her giggle inwardly. He coughed again, running his hand through the tuft of black hair hanging over his forehead.

“I - I’m an actor.”

Eadie patted his shoulder, apologetically.

“Ah, right, well, that it explains your rough week, doesn’t it. I imagine it can be very hard going out here for you.” She looked up the hill, then back at his car. “Listen I’m not really in the habit of inviting strange men over. But, I, well, I feel somewhat responsible for your car. Is there someone you can call for help? Maybe a garage you can hire to come tow your car?”

“Huh, yeah, I reckon I know a guy or two I can get to come help me.”

“Promise you’re not an insane killer. Or rapist. Or burglar?”

The man grinned, looking down. “Whoo boy, no, no, no ma’am. You know women have asked me a lot of weird questions over my lifetime, but that one takes the cake. How do I know you ain’t the one trying to get me alone, so you can pounce on me, huh?” He winked at Eadie, grabbing his black satin sports coat from the back seat before setting out to follow her cautious gait.

“Is that something American women do? Go about attacking men?”

“Uh, well, lil girl, you’d be surprised. ”

**********************************

Eadie had her misgivings as she led him into her uncle’s house, but there was something about his eyes, and the quiet way he mumbled inaudibly into his shoes that made her trust him. She changed into a nice pair of grey linen capri pans and a silk blouse, fixed her blonde hair neatly back with a headband, then looked around her uncle’s closet for some clean clothes for her guest.

Coming back downstairs, she stood for a moment at the landing, watching his tall, lanky silhouette shift back and forth in front of the large, open windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He held the phone cord in his hand, twisting it, before he turned, at the sound of her footsteps, and grinned, still speaking into the mouth piece.

“Yeah, I know it’s a new one. Nothing doin’. Better get someone to come tow it, and then you come and pick me up too, huh? I’m on - where are we, honey?”

Eadie put the clothes down on the bar in front of him.

“Decker Canyon, just above the Pacific Coast Highway.”

“Got that Joe? We’re 'bout a mile off the PCH, street is Decker Canyon, right below Mulholland Drive. S' a ways out - anything round here?”

She gave him the only landmarks she new, the bar and a gas station a few miles before it, then bounced over to see what she had in the fridge. At the click of the phone, she turned back to her guest.

“Hungry? I can make us some omelets? Or bacon and egg sandwiches?”

“Sho, whatever’s clever, baby.”

Her eyes shifted over his body, noting the dirt all over the knees of his tight, white pants, and motioned to the clothes.

“I think you might be more trim than my uncle, and more stylish. But I brought you some clean clothes, if you want them. Your belt will probably do the trick.”

“Trim, huh?”

Eadie paused as she cracked some eggs, frowning at the wounded look on his face.

“Look, you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome, I’m sure you know it or you wouldn’t be out here in Hollywood, trying to break in to your field. Right?”

He shook his head, and laughed as he strode over to her. Suddenly Eadie’s knees felt weak and it wasn’t from the crash. She dropped the egg shells she was holding.

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Well, from an objective view point.”

“Don’t think I look too fat?”

She shook her head, unable to speak, because she was too overwhelmed by the proximity of his body, his smell, the mix of sweat and spice and burnt rubber from the car crash.

“Or that my hair is too fluffy?”

Eadie forget all of the etiquette she had learned from the foreign finishing schools she had been to in India, Ceylon, Indonesia. She confidently ran her fingers through his hair, as if they were old friends or lovers, and not strangers who had just met.

“Whoever told you that is crackers. It’s just perfect.”

He grinned, and stepped back, walking off to change.

“You’re sweet, baby, know that?”

He hardly spoke when he came back in Ian’s clothes, mainly asking her about herself and what it was like to grow up as the child of an ambassador. Eadie answered his questions as they ate simple cheese omelets and drank the very sweet screwdrivers he had mixed for them.

“Ever get to the movies?”

There was a sly edge to the way he looked at her as they spoke, and she kept getting this eerie feeling of deja vu. As though they had met, perhaps he had been sitting in front of her on the plane and in the midst of jet lag, she had completely forgot about some small conversation they had. Something about his blue eyes poked at the back her mind. But she shook it off, and tried to summon all the charm she could muster.

“Sometimes they bring things in English for the Embassy, but it’s often drek. Or out cheap, British stuff. Everything from here, it takes a year of more to make its way around the world, and the dub it into Mandarin, Hindu, French, Jawa. I just saw West Side Story for the first time last month! Boy, that was a good one, dontcha think."

He pursed his lips, nodding as he ate.

"Everything in Tanzania was in French, but I that was always my worst class at school. They haven’t even got television in most of Africa yet. They set up the first station in Jakarta.”

He slid his hand over hers, and she stilled, feeling a swarm of butterflies take flight in her tummy as his thumb rubbed over her knuckles.

“American's liable to bore you, after all that.”

“Oh no, everything in America is so beautiful.” Eadie blurted out, then blushed at the smirk that grew on his face. “I - I mean the ocean, the landscape. It’s all so.” She inhaled, trying to give herself time to think of something more clever than just the same word over and over again. But she couldn’t. “Beautiful.”

His knee had just grazed hers, causing a whole other swarm of butterflies to flitter across her chest, when the doorbell rang, and Eadie jumped up to find a short, balding stout man with a wide grin, a big fancy car behind him in the drive. And before she had the chance to say beautiful ten more times, the stranger was kissing her on her cheek, his fingers linger on her neck for a beat, before bidding her farewell.

Eadie did the dishes, and wandered through the house, watching the lights of what must have been the tow truck take the black convertible away. As she made her way upstairs to bed, Eadie noticed that he’d left his dirty, tight white trousers in the downstairs bathroom. Unsure what to do, she picked them up, and realized his wallet was in the back pocket. You could hear her shriek echo through the canyon when she looked at the driver’s license. His name was as well known in Asia as it was back in England.

“Elvis bloody Presley. I asked Elvis blinking bloody Presley if he was a rapist.” She let her head crash against the glass shower door. “Ughhh, Edith Elizabeth Isaacs, you are the idiot to end all idiots.”

She went to bed wondering if she should try to return his wallet for a chance to see him again. Or keep it as a memento to remember how Elvis Presley almost ran her over one time.

***************************************************************

thanks for reading,

xoxox

norah

tagging as always @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley fanfiction #smash!#thatbanditqueen

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jackiequick · 1 year ago

Text

Ex in the flesh | Pre-Marvel Phase 1

Uncle-Nephew: Jason Underwood & Tony Stark

Ex-romantic pairing: Jason Underwood x Sophia Trace

Summary: There are some faces you don’t expect to run into, in the middle of the day and sometimes it’s a feels a odd memory loss in the water.

Timeline: Pre-Iron Man (2008)

Character mentioned: Godson Rei Stark, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Maria Stark, Peggy Carter, Maria Winter and etc.

Note: Jason’s alias here is Thomas Logan Mitchell

——

It was early one afternoon when it happened. Their home in Malibu staying high on the rise as the windows were open bringing in the cold September breeze. Tony was in his lab as always tinkering with his toys as Pepper was given the afternoon to do some stuff for herself.

She definitely deserved it.

The household was mess. Goodness gracious how did they like that happen? Well that answer was the little menace, aka Anakin Skywalker Jr, Rei Stark. He was only 6 years old. But he was a little cocky dramatic tornado of a child.

The boy had so much energy it bewildered anyone who walked by him. He acted like he owned the whole house, technically he did due to it being his property one day, but that’s not the point—he didn’t care to do much. Always sending a tiny glare and a real cheeky grin to whoever he sees unfit to be in his area. He can could sense either a person’s attitude and godly annoyance from a mile away.

Thankfully he had people who he actually liked in his life, so it easier to find a comfortable ground with the kid.

Jason was in the kitchen sipping a glass of water and trying to figure out what to make for lunch.

He was thinking fries and chicken nuggets would work for his godson. Until he realized they were out of animal chicken nuggets and Rei favored those one than the normal nuggets. He couldn’t blame him, he liked those one too.

“Bubba?” Jason called out, hoping he would take the normal ones today, “Come here for a second!”

The pitter patter of sandals can be heard, the brunette came to stop and yelled in return, “What?!”

“You want chicken nuggets for lunch?”

“Yes. With fries. Extra crispy fries!”

“Haha. I got good news and bad news for ya, bubba. We’re all out of the animal nuggets.”

“Noooo! I want the animals ones.”

“We don’t have them, bubba.”

“Please. Just go to the store, pops!”

“Rei. It’s late and it seems like Pepper forgot to buy them.”

“No it’s not. It’s early. Mommy says the store is not far away.”

“Fine. We will go the store.”

“WE?! I don’t want to go papa..”

“Yes, we. Now come on, I’ll let you get a toy from vending machine and—”

The second those words hit Rei’s ears he went racing to the front door to remove his sandals and change into his street clothes until he realized he needed some help with his jacket. His godfather rolled his eyes, fixing the kid’s jean jacket and tied his shoelaces correctly. He told JARVIS to let Tony know they’re heading out before he left with the boy.

————

He let Rei choose which color car they would ride in. Black one with the gold accent seemed to be his favorite. Jason rolled his eyes and nodded as he strapped him into his car seat. One the way to the store, they played some more. A mix of pop, hip hop and rock.

In resulted into a jamming session on they’re way there.

It had Jason smile seeing Rei enjoying himself. He tends to forget about the fact that he’s just a kid sometimes due to how smart he tends to be and cleverness he holds onto. He sometimes fights with Tony to share more time with his son and let him just be a kid, reminding how on he single-handedly help Maria raise his nephew more often than not.

And he’s glad he wins that argument. Because the more time Tony spends with Rei the better.

Rei Stark may be a little distant from other kids, wanting to play alone at times but when he’s in his element—which is building things and just be a creative kid in general—he shines like a diamond. It’s incredible to witness how his mind tinkers in ways, he doesn’t even understand.

Once they reached the store, it was a different type of thing.

The aisles were nicely decorated with eye catching items from cereal to pretzels. Along with the section of fruits was nearby the pastries.

He first let Rei explore. Let his sweet tooth get a look at the delicious offer and his favorite fruits. He got to pick out some to take home. It was good, he seemed like he was enjoying himself. He told his godson to stay close meanwhile he looked at the cereal options before they grabbed the animal chicken nuggets.

But Jason should’ve known better because the second he turned his face to reach for Captain Crunch cereal, Rei scurried off to other end of the aisle to find god knows what! His eyesight zipped through the hall looking for him until he heard it.

“You’re not the boss of me lady!”

Yup. There he was at the corner of the aisle holding up bag of tootsies rolls and sending a tiny glare to the women, who was trying to reason with him. It sounded like the women was asking where the heck his parents were. Jason slide down, placing a hand on the kid’s brown fluffy hair and racing his fingers crossed to calm him softly.

“Bubba, why did you leave me standing?” He asked, looking down at him.

“I saw one lady holding a bag of tootsies rolls and I wanted one.” Rei told him like it was obvious.

“You had to ask me first before going off into the store.”

“I wasn’t that far!”

“You left me hanging bud.”

Then the women spoke with a smile and light scoff, “Hanging, huh? Sounds about right. No offense but the kid was just messing around.”

“Look sweetie, thank you for standing here and wondering about his parents. I can it from here.” Jason replies, raising his head to finally registering the woman but stopped surely.

Both adults stood there quickly examining one another faces in the store lights. The bright warm lights brought up every the women’s face. From her deem eyes to makeup nice reaching her lips. Her bouncing pushed back curls were set in place by a low ponytail as she held close a worn out bomber jacket that hung over a burgundy shirt.

Out of the people he would’ve expected to see today. She wasn’t one of them. He would’ve loved to be caught up in the aisles by an old friend or that lovely short lived ex girlfriend from years ago.

But not her! Anyone but the blind date he agreed on going to get out of the house and stop the protests from the ladies in his life to actually have a social life. It was one date or something like that, in which he cut short rather quickly.

Nonetheless here stood that ex-something of his.

And honestly he sorta regretted it. He was a jerk and he knows it.

“Wow, didn’t expect to see you here today.” Said the brunette with a small smile, decided to stay civil.

“Yeah well, it was an emergency to stock up on food.” Jason replied with a nod, a tiny smile curled his face.

“I can see that, nothing to worry about. You look…good.”

“I am good, Trace. Real good.”

Rei watched both adults thinking, he recognized her voice from a phone call and spoke up, “Wait who are you? You uh sound familiar.”

“I’m Sophia. An..old friend of your pal here—” He replied with a smile looking down at the kid, finding calmer down.

“He’s not my pal. He’s my pops, lady.”

“Pops?”

“Duhhh!”

Sophie paused trying to register what she heard thinking, ‘Mitchell has a kid?! He moved on fast!’ and sighed. The boy looked nothing like him, but the glint of wanting to be somewhere else like at home and not in public, was absolutely similar to the man. Other than that, he looked more like he possibly resembled the mother than him.

Strong enough genes.

“He’s your pops? Wow Mitchell, uh congrats.” Sophie said with a smile, feeling a little bitter wishing it wasn’t his son.

“Relax, Trace!” Jason repiled noticing the story on her face as he picked up Rei deciding to fix his glasses and teased, “I’m not with the mother. So you still have another shot with this.”

“You’re hilarious. That train left the station. It’s fine, you look content and that’s actually kinda cute.”

“What? Life a little miserable once I left?”

“If I’m correct, you didn’t exactly return my calls. And no, it’s not miserable. I’m better off without looking for a someone else.”

“Aww, you’ve got a lot better things to do than worry about me, i bet..”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be so bad either.”

The way Jason and Sophie smiled at that last comment, a hint of blush carried onto both cheeks.

Rei joked in his signature tone, “Aw, a compliment and a smile. Can we go please?”

“Yeah, Bubba. You wanna go grab the cart for me?” He asked, with a little smile only for him.

The boy simply nodded as he was put down, scurrying away toward the shopping cart not without sending another glare to the women. Once both of them were sure the kid was gone, they dropped the awkward moments to send a gentle glares deeply to one another.

Almost concerned glares if you asked anyone who can sense the unfinished tension between them.

“Where the heck have you been?” Sophie asked, leaning in with light smirk attached to her glare.

“Oh please. Last time I check sweetheart, you’re didn’t even come straight to me for answers.” Jason added with a match look.

“Really? That’s your play? You’re the one leaves behind a trail off unwanted promises for a date! I called, I texted and asked around. Nothing.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe we weren’t even able to get anywhere, with our whatever we had? You were way out of my league in the first place and sat high on your little cloud that you needed to be brought down a peg.”

“Ohhh funny you say that, cause you needed a little push to realized your not the most interesting man in the room or did you forget that? Our first date, you decided to take it as a favor for a friend but afterwards you liked it! You liked it a lot!”

“I did not! I was being nice, a gentleman with you because you seemed pretty alright in my books.”

“Pretty alright?”

“Yeah you’re half bad.”

“So you liked it?”

“I would say I didn’t hate it.”

Both grinned at that last comment, as a smirked laced their faces. They found each other rather attractive after everything.

The real reason, Jason didn’t follow up on that date was because he felt stupid, insecure and didn’t want to let himself be heartbroken again after so many times. He was just defending himself with an act.

That he cut it off too early but he also knew it wasn’t gonna last in the first place.

He was a complete idiot, a jerk and terrified of starting something new. Especially with the life he lives and the things he had done, he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. None of it.

It was a gut wrenching guilt he carried that made him feel that way, like it’s better to be alone sometimes.

Most importantly he didn’t want to bring anyone into this life either. But he should’ve gone about it a different way than he did, he regretted how he ended it. He wants a second chance.

A small push.

“You left sorta me hanging around for a bit afterward. It actually bothered me.” She admitted with a sigh, dropping the act.

He sighed and nodded, “And you left me questioning, you know that? Uh look, I’m not good at this..”

“Yeah well me either, I got busy. Real busy with my classes and students.”

“I can tell. The eye bags underneath your eyes. You should rest, I mean it.”

“I know I should rest..and I’m sorry too for not taking the initiative to come to you for answers…I wasn’t exactly ready for it..”

“Look, it was something I wasn’t ready for either..I was busy too. I’m sorry, I was complete jerk and I apologize for my inconvenience..and just my attitude towards this point..”

“But you did it. We both did.”

“Yeah I know, I don’t know why we did it but we did it. By all accounts, I think I owe you a second date..”

“Oh definitely you do haha! Yeah and it was—”

Both were cut off by Rei’s racing toward them almost slammed the wheels of the shopping cart against Sophie’s shopping cart. He did it on purpose, Jason was sure of it and he sigh, kinda not proud of him for that.

Yeah, Rei was trying to save him from having this conversation to try and explain himself to Sophie. He’s always thankful for the saves from the kid, but he wished his godson didn’t save him this time.

However he was definitely getting dino nuggets today for at least coming with him to the store.

Rei yanked his godfather’s arm, dragging him down the aisle as Jason shrugged sending ‘I apologize for him’ look to Sophie. She just shook his head chuckling and walked away. They pair turned around waving at each other as they separated into different aisles.

The rest of the trip went somewhat smoothly getting everything they needed from the store and more. The ride home however was quiet, with the radio station blasting music and the bit of traffic up ahead. It was mostly small talk made in the car anyways.

Until Rei said something that confused the blonde.

“She was pretty.” Said the boy, playing with his action figure that he left behind earlier.

“Who was?” Jason responded, looking at the rear view mirror.

“The lady. She was pretty.”

“The same lady you were being a little rude too? Which wasn’t nice by the way, I should’ve corrected you on that.”

“I’m sorry..I will be nicer. But yeah that lady! I was just testing if she can handle us.”

“Wait what? You were testing if she could tolerate your rudeness? Rei.”

“Sorry! And yeah, she passed. Did you dump her? Who set you up?”

———

Jason chuckled at his questions like he was being interrogated by the kid. To be honest, he knew he would ask him eventually. He was a smart kid and he could tell something was up even if he admitted it or not.

He sighed and answered him, “First, it was your mother who set us up. I did it was a favor when you little, she wanted me to head out of the house and have a night off to myself. It was a blind date.”

“Ohhhhh! It was mommy?! Wow what did you do, that she set her up with you?! She is way too pretty!” Rei exclaimed with a surprised look.

“Ouch!” Jason joked, “If you like her so much why don’t you date her?”

“Nahhh!” Rei replies giving him a grossed out, goofy smile.

“But to answer your second question, yes. I did dump her. I should’ve been nicer when I did.”

“Daddy says that’s kinda a dick move, JJ! You dumping her is mean.”

“Rei watch your language! Don’t say that word again, alright?”

“…okay. Sorry I won’t say it again, but that was kinda mean though! Mommy wanted you to date her! Why stop?”

“Bubba, you don’t get it. You’re too young.”

“Tell me! Please!”

He sighed knowing he always tries to tell him everything depending on what it is. Even if it meant dating. Rei was wondering and it was something innocent that every kid wants to know. They want to be part of conversation, even if they don’t understand it all.

Jason took a deep breath and told him, “Alright, alright I will tell you. Your uncle JJ is a dummy, okay? A bit dummy for not going along for more dates. She was nice, but I thought she was out of my league and way too good for me. I was thinking I wasn’t good enough.”

“And? So what? You were scared?” Rei asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his tone had confusion.

“Yeah I was scared, and it’s a normal feeling to be scared. I lived and loved a lot of people, buddy. I didn’t know if I could go try it out again.”

“I think you should try it out. She got good taste in food, I saw she got Oreo cookies in her shopping cart and gummies too!”

He chuckled, “You only care about food, do you?”

“Yup! Food is always welcome in my mind.” Added the boy with a shrug.

——

Jason then asked something that was more of a honest question for his godson. Something that added to why he refused to date. His life and family he created. It was a hard way to put into words what he meant but he still tried.

So he asked, “Do you think she would be good enough to be with us for a while? Good for us, i guess? You know, handle our lives?…My life? I don’t want to bring her into this crazy world of ours..”

Rei thought for a second, he snorted at his way of wording everything and how he tried to water down what he meant.

His godfather watched him for a moment before he made a turn into another lane. Rei had a cute little thinking face where his nose would wrinkle a little like his father, Tony, but his eyes would narrow down like his mother, Maria. It was something Pepper and Peggy pointed out recently every-time they saw him think of something.

“I think she’s okay, for now. She is pretty, looks smart I think and uh, she is friends with mommy.” Rei said with a shrugged, trying to piece together his thoughts.

“Plus she got some attitude like you..” Jason added with a smile.

“I do not have attitude!”

“Yes you do, bubba.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay bubba. Whatever you say, you want to watch a movie when we get home?”

His eyes light up hearing that, “Yes please! And give me your phone, please.”

“Haha—wait why?” Jason asked with a chuckle.

“I’mma call her for you! ‘Cause you are always busy and said you are dummy.”

“Rei, you are not calling Sophie.”

“Someone gotta do it duh! You say it is okay to be scared but we gotta be brave sometimes, right JJ?”

“Don’t use my logic and words against me, child!”

The boy laughed knowing he won today as the phone was tossed over to him with the contact open to the girl in question. There was a mutual conversation between the two, because it was true.

Sometimes you need a little push to do something, even if it doesn’t always turn out well. If you ain’t gonna do it for yourself, sometimes will always do it for you. It’s something the blonde used to preach a lot, even though it wasn’t advice he didn’t always take for himself.

It was the sad part about advice but it was the truth. Sometimes you don’t take your own words too heart.

———

Moments like this, he knew Rei was the one of the coolest and smartest kids in the world. But he wouldn’t exactly tell him all that too often because according to Peggy, they’re godson’s ego would grow two sizes too big if they did.

But they love the Stark boys nonetheless.

As he left to enter the road leading to the house, he could hear Rei’s voice talking with Sophie on the phone. He could’ve sworn he heard a chuckle or two escape his mouth as his tone tried to remain calm. There were moments he heard Rei give a snarky or rude comment and joke about something in his signature tone of voice.

It was a little out of character for the kid since he didn’t like anyone very often, always giving a rude attitude towards the person that crossed his path and always liked to stay in his zone. Be a homebody and be around people he already knew instead of meeting new people.

Jason blamed himself for that, it was like Rei inherited that part of him.

But this side of Rei, where if determined he will find the confidence within himself and talk to the person, make conversation with them if it meant he got something in return.

That was something he inherited from his mother and grandmother. Maria Winter and Maria Stark.

Because Rei knew if he got his godfather a date with this girl, come Christmas time, he will get extra presents from both adults. Plus he might have another person who makes his Pops somewhat happy for a little while.

He may not always show it, but he very much appreciated Jason and grateful for having him in his life. The least he can do see him enjoy himself every once in a while with someone else, but not too much because at the end of the day that was his pops. No one else’s.

~~~

The rest of the car ride was pretty nice. Music blasting from the radio, the sun shining through the clouds and the small noise the came from the car after Rei finished his small chat with Sophie. According to him, he liked the girl and Jason chuckled at his nod of approval.

The duo were just chatting, even after parking in front of Mansion and walked inside with grocery bags, they kept discussing topics. More like Rei kept rambling on about the movie he wanted to watch, what he wanted for dinner and the idea he had for the garage. Jason just chuckled nodding and responding announcing to Jarvis they’re back home.

As Jason was putting away the groceries and getting started on lunch time, Tony walked in ruffing Rei’s hair. Tony turned to face the two and raise an eyebrow as he asked, “Okay your a good mood. Spill.”

Rei rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Nothing, dad. Relax.”

“Yeah bubba, we just went out to go some shopping. You hungry?” Jason added with a smile.

Tony nodded replies that he’s starving, sitting down next to his son. Jason told them lunch would be started soon, he just needed to change his clothes into something more comfortable, walking out of the kitchen.

Rei smiled leaning back waiting for him be out of hallway and upstairs as Tony grinned taking out the chicken nuggets and fries from the freezer with ease. Once Tony made sure his uncle out gone, he whipped his head towards Rei and asked, “Okay kid, what do you know?”

“I ain’t telling.” Rei replied with a matching grin waiting for his end of the bribe.

His father sighed, “Alright, two weeks at Disneyland park next month.”

“And?” His son added with a tune waiting for more.

“Ice cream after dinner while Pepper is asleep.”

“Much better!”

“Now spill, squirt.”

“JJ saw his ex girlfriend at the store.”

“He did?! And what happened?”

“They talked and whatever. She’s pretty much a nice girl.”

“You met her?”

“We talked for like less than 20 minutes. She is one mom’s old friends.”

Tony thought for a moment trying to remember of ex girlfriend’s Winter friends as his eyes shined, “You mean the one that looked like Disney princess with some attitude that came that last year’s New Years Eve party? Always wears a ponytail and a cute burgundy shirt?”

“Yeahhh? That one. How did you know? Don’t tell me you dated her? Gross!” Rei asked millions of questions with a weird face.

“No of course not! Not my type, I remember her cause she brought us ticket to the Mets game last year. I think your mom and her always get their nails somewhere close by when you were a little.”

“Ohhh! Oh—that was her?! ‘Baseball girl’ you called you?”

“Yup kiddo, that’s the one. I didn’t know JJ liked her.”

“I guess so! He was a chicken and dumped her, I had to call her and see what she is like.”

“You set your godfather up on a date? You’re definitely my kid!”

That was when Jason walked back in the kitchen wearing sweatpants and his favorite t-shirt noticing how they sorta got quiet when he walked inside. Seeing them getting along very well and grinning towards one another.

It was a nice surprise to see them acting like silly gooses but it was odd even the faces they were making.

He gave them a confused look waving his hand in the air and asked, “What you guys talking about?”

Both of them looked at one another then back at them as they replied, “Nothing!”

~—~~—~~

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