#no idea what happened but this guy is a little older than he was so hoping he's a little sturdier 💕

[brokenbutunbowed]

I'm so in love with him he's so beautiful and so calm (so far, at least).

Thai bamboo ratsnake (O p coxi) 2023 male

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend 

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 

-

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 

“You’re right.” 

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 

-

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 

-

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

[fum1ku]

HIM AS A DAD - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, koushi sugawara, kiyoomi sakusa, shoyo hinata, shinsuke kita

OSAMU: your kids are absolutely being raised in the kitchen when it comes to osamu being their dad. he wants his kids to have cooking skills and the love food that he has. it’s definitely a common occurrence to come home and see him holding your kid in one hand while he’s tending to whatever he has cooking up on the stove with the other. more than that, as a dad he’s very patient and loving. he wants two kids—boy and a girl, but of course he loves them regardless.

DAICHI: this man is an absolute godsend when it comes to you and your kids. need him to help out with something? well, he’s already on it. there is no “mom job” this or “dad job” that”—you’re both in this together, all the way. even if his work schedule can be a grueling or hectic, that doesn’t stop him from being there when you need him. he’s willing to take as much time off work as you need him to do he can help you out with the kids as much as possible. he’s also a pretty big family guy—and when i say that, i mean 3 or 4 kids is a good number for him. he wants his kids to have the big family he had growing up, but he also is okay with just a kid or two if that’s what you want.

KOUSHI: he’s great with kids. he’s an elementary school teacher, so of course he has to be! but seeing him with your kid absolutely makes your heart melt. he’s the sweetest, most gentle father to his kids. even more than that,he treats his kids with a lot of respect. he doesn’t shit down their creativity or questions—he takes the time to explain the whys and hows. and regardless of him being an actual teacher, he’s just a great teacher to your kid alone because he’s so willing to talk and explain things. i see him having one or two kids.

KIYOOMI: regardless of what people may think, kiyoomi is an amazing dad. he really is. he comes home from a long day of practice to find himself on the couch with the baby propped up on his chest, sound asleep. his kids are definitely daddy’s boys or girls because you could try all night to get the fussy baby put down for bed, but as soon as kiyoomi picks ‘em up they’re fast asleep in your arms. while he’s maybe not the biggest fan of the messier parts of fatherhood, he’s still here and willing because it’s you and his kid. one kid is definitely enough for him, though—i really like the idea of him as a girl dad, or just having a daughter and her being “daddy’s little girl”.

SHOYO: i think he’d have kids while he’s on the younger side—20 to 23. i can see him in brazil, after a long day of food delivers, coming home to you and his baby and feeling like life is complete. he absolutely, no questions asked, teaches your kid to play volleyball and as they get older he plays with them regularly. he’s definitely the kind of dad to “make it happen” or just make the best out of a bad situation. he’s obviously not making a lot of money while he’s a good deliver guy in brazil, but that downer stop him from going above and beyond for his kid and making the most fun memories. i see him really only having one kid, maybe two—boy or girl, he can go either way!

SHINSUKE: he of course passes down his grandma’s tradition of diligence and hard work. he helps his kids notice the small details of life, more than the weekly floor scrubbing or house cleaning. he’s a hard worker and he wants his kids to be the same. i also see him having his kids from a young age “help” him in the rice fields. and i say “help” because how much work can the 5-year old and 7-year old actually be doing? he loves you and the kids to death and is more than willing to give you guys the world. i also can see him as a girl dad, but i think he can go either way!

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn @mikauraurr @miffysoo @nursedflowers @en-geneisaxx

i absolutely plan to add onto this soon with more details for each of them personally!!

[ozzgin]

I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...

If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️

The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)

Yandere! Host x Reader

You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.

Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation

Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.

He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.

One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.

You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.

Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.

You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.

You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.

Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.

The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?

"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?

Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.

"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.

"Everything."

[dreamwritesimagines]

Theory of Gravity

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Making small talk can be difficult with a crush.

Word Count: 1234

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Content: Drinking, reader being awkward because she has a crush, flirting

Contrary to popular belief, snitching on the whereabouts of a very dangerous mobster in the bar you worked in and possibly getting killed or maimed in the process was not a good plan for a Friday night but to be completely honest, you had done worse things over a silly little crush.

Like back in college freshman year when you pretended to be into music biopics just so that the hot guy in your elective would think you two were meant to be.

So if anything, this was a pattern.

“Logan?” you said as you put his drink in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What was Galileo like?”

He blinked a couple of times, the familiar scowl that seemed to be etched on his handsome face getting deeper and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “I will lose all the belief I’ve never had in the first place in this country’s education system if you’re serious.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I figured it was better than asking how the public took it when Newton came up with the theory of gravity.”  

The look on his face couldn’t be described with anything but complete horror and you let out a laugh, then went to serve another customer before quickly making your way to him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you said, leaning against the bar as you stole a look at the mobster sitting by the table with his men, then to Wade who was very, very busy with Vanessa by the corner.

“You look nervous,” Logan pointed out, making your head whip up before you cleared your throat.

“Nah, not at all,” you said. “I’m just thinking that if I die tonight, I’ll die doing what I love.”

“Which is?”

Gazing at older men who couldn’t look less interested in me.

“Being surrounded by drunk people who want to give me money,” you said. “Not a bad way to go.”

He scoffed into his drink before taking a sip while you nibbled on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’re just waiting for his partner to show up, then we will deal with them both.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. Sure, I know.”

“Do you?”

You nodded again, absentmindedly reaching out to play with the cocktail straw on the counter, painfully aware of his gaze on you that made your face burn.

“How’s grad school?”

…He remembered.

He remembered you saying that the last time he and Wade were here.

One simple observer would’ve thought he was on his knees proclaiming his undying love for you with the way your heartbeat went insane and his eyebrows rose as if he could hear it, but you quickly casted the thought away from your mind; that was surely impossible.

“Oh it’s going well!” you said, your voice going high-pitched for a moment. “Came for the hot professors, stayed for the education—I’m joking,” you added in a haste, waving a hand in the air. “I’m a very…very deep and intellectual individual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And none of my professors are hot,” you muttered and wiped at the damp spot on the counter with a napkin. “They should put that on the brochure if you ask me, it’s important information.”

“So you’ll be a doctor?”

“If by some miracle my dissertation goes through the jury,” you pointed out. “How about you? How’s your roommate situation with Wade going?”

He only grumbled something under his breath and you bit back a smile, then topped his drink.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

If there was one thing you hated the idea of more than dying was proving Freud right but it looked like you were going two for two tonight.

“So uh,” you said, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms because of his deep voice. “Hey, at least you have the place to yourself sometimes, no? When Wade is with Vanessa? Should give you some time to…bring someone home.”

And I volunteer as tribute.

He raised his brows, his unwavering gaze pinning you to your spot and you cleared your throat.

“Or—or someones,” you stammered. “Sky is the limit if you’re into that sort of thing. Now that it came up by the way, are…are you?”

“Am I bringing people home?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure that was what you were asking and you shrugged your shoulders, your face on fire.

“I’m just asking because, you know,” you began the sentence without having a clue on how you would finish it as usual. “I’m great at giving relationship advice, so if you were in a relationship I could be your own personal relationship coach.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion and you reached out to get the bowl full of peanut shells from his right just so that you could keep yourself busy, then turned the bowl over the garbage can.

“I’m not,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

“Who has the time for that these days, am I right?”

“Do you have—”

“Yes I have the time!” you cut him off, nodding your head in enthusiasm, your heart beating in your ears but he had already finished his sentence;

“…ice?”

You hoped to God tonight was the night you’d die because if that mobster in the corner didn’t shoot you, you were going to have to ask Wade to do it just to save you from this embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said after a beat as he stared at you. “Yeah—yeah I have ice, sorry.”

You rushed to get some ice and put it into his whiskey, biting inside your cheek and he cleared his throat.

“You don’t want to go out with me sweetheart.”

Well good news was that you had already made a fool of yourself so one could think the bar for your self-respect couldn’t get any lower, but boy oh boy you had already brought your metaphorical shovel.  

“I disagree,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I would very much love to if you were interested.”

“You think I’m not interested?”

“I feel like I’d have a better chance at proving you’re not interested with dates and references than my own thesis,” you pointed out. “And that’s saying something—”

“I am interested,” he cut you off, making your eyes widen and you gawked at him, frozen in your spot. “Trust me, that’s not the problem here.”

“Am I getting the I’m too dangerous for you speech?” you heard yourself ask through disbelief. “Because screw that speech. Honestly, the only thing I’m focused on in here is if you—fuck!”

He pulled his brows together. “If I—?”

“No no!” you said as you pointed at the back door where two men were dragging Wade through. “Wade!”

Logan cussed under his breath as he shot up from his stool.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll talk about this later,” he told you and made his way to the back door while you heaved a sigh, leaning back to the counter as he stepped outside and you caught the sight of him grabbing a man by the neck before the door slammed shut. You pressed a hand over your chest, then tilted your head back with a groan.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “That was smooth.”

[ghast1yghosts]

Eddie’s mostly covered in tattoos and scars. he thinks he looks scary. but little kids are far from scared when they interact with him—they just think he’s neat.

they know he’s joking when he responds to questions about what happened—“shark attack”—“had a cheese grater thrown at me”—“i didn’t eat my vegetables”—“battled a dragon”—“spilled some coffee”—“got abducted by aliens”—“watched TV too close to the screen”—

but they never push him to an actual answer, tiny minds moving too fast to really stop and consider.

of course, older kids give him more looks than the younger ones—they stop and consider. but they’re never really rude, more curious then anything. it’s not everyday you see someone like him walking down the street or into a coffee shop.

there’s something so wonderful about kids. something about how they don’t have these pre-conceived notions or ideas about people. they’re just sponges, soaking up anything they can get their hands on.

it’s nice when a little kid stops dead in their tracks in pure awe and wonder at him. not fear. not worry. not anger or hatred.

but in awe.

it’s a nice reminder he’s not a monster. not some repulsive abomination.

just a guy who’s been through some shit.

[morganbritton132]

Thank you for feeding us with the Steve Has Older Siblings AU. God tier level of characterization I gotta say.

How do the older siblings handle the “Eddie Munson Problem”? I would imagine they actually do try to get rid of him at first given Eddie’s reputation but then realize he treats Steve better than any of them ever have.

Well, there is cash incentive.

Richard Harrington still has aspirations of going into local politics one days and he is not going let Al Munson’s son kill that dream. Or kill their son. Richard waves a dismissive hand in his wife’s direction because, “Of course. Of course. Or that.”

Whoever makes that boy disappear gets five thousand dollars.

(1.)

Claire takes a direct approach. She corners Steve and tells him that Eddie is a drug dealer and a drug user. She tells him about all the scary things that showed up on his toxicology report in the hospital and Steve replied flatly with, “Wow. Crazy. I had no idea.”

“I’m serious,” She says. “You could get hurt with someone like that. Do you know how that would make us feel if something happened to you?

“I fractured my ankle at a track meet once and Dad made me walk to the car afterwards,” Steve replies. “I think you guys will be fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“You know, Claire,” Steve nods to himself because, yeah. Sure. Let’s do it. “How have you felt the last three years? Or, I don’t know. The last two concussions? You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with for years now and – and you’ve never cared so why now? What’s Dad giving you to ruin my life because-“

He shakes his head, “This is not worth it. Like how picking up the phone when the mall caught on fire with me inside it wasn’t worth the effort. Tell Dad you tried really hard, but no. I’m not going to get rid of one of the few people in my life that actually like me.”

(2.)

Jason takes a different – dumber – approach. He goes in with no plan and no intentions, just took the opportunity when he saw Eddie’s van pulled off on the side of a backroad. He bangs his fist against the side and is delighted that he caught Eddie and Steve.

He threatens to beat Eddie up which is bold to say to an accused murderer in the woods, but okay.

Then he turns around and threatens Steve that he’s going to tell their dad that he was getting high in the woods if he doesn’t keep away from trailer trash, but Jason is fucking idiot because they were decidedly not getting high in the woods. He leaves with an eighth of marijuana and  no closer to five thousand dollars because Steve had just shrugged like, “Okay? Go ahead. Tell him.”

(3.)

Richie does not participate in this because he actually wants to improve his relationship with his little brother and he was the first person Steve went to after they got Eddie, barely breathing, to the hospital. He saw how shaken up he was and he also saw the bruising around Steve’s neck.

He knows what the bruising looks like. He knows how people gets bruises like that. And he knows that he’s a coward because he could not bring himself to ask a question he did not want the answer to. And he knows Eddie Munson.

Eddie is harmless.

All you have to do is have one conversation with the kid and you’ll see that he couldn't hurt a fly. Richie, however, had many conversations with him when Harrington & Associates took his case on pro bono so he knows just how harmless Eddie is.

He also knows that Eddie spends a lot of time trying to make Steve laugh. Richie has spent enough time in his life making his brother miserable. He's not doing anymore.

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.

Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 

You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.

For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.

But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.

You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"

His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.

"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."

He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."

God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."

"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 

You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."

"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."

You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."

He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"

A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"

"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."

"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 

You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?

"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."

He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."

"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."

He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."

"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.

"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."

Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.

"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"

Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"

The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."

He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 

-------------------------

You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?

"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.

"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 

"How old did you say you were?"

Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."

You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."

"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."

It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."

He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."

"I agree."

He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."

You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."

Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."

You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"

"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."

You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."

Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."

--------------------------

You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."

You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."

He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.

"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."

"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."

"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."

You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.

"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."

The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 

"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.

"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.

"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."

You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.

He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."

"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."

Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."

You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."

"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"

A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."

His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 

When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 

He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."

When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.

As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"

Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."

Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"

"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."

You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."

Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 

"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 

"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"

"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."

You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.

Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.

You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

----------------------------

Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[chiyuuchu]

Some things never changed <3 (30th September 2024)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Prompt! Katsuki’s future son travels back in time, leaving the entire bakusquad in shocked when they find out who Katsuki ends up with

It was a lazy afternoon, and the Bakusquad was chilling in the common room of the U.A. dorms. Bakugou lounged on the couch, arms crossed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, while Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Jirou were sprawled around the room, passing time and chatting.

Out of nowhere, a bright flash illuminated the space, causing everyone to jump. In the middle of the common room, a young boy no older than eight appeared, as if he’d stepped straight out of thin air.

"What the hell?!" Bakugou shot up from the couch, glaring at the boy, who had the same spiky ash-blonde hair and piercing red eyes as him. The kid’s expression? A scowl, eerily similar to Bakugou’s.

The boy smirked up at Bakugou. "Wow... Dad, you really were just as loud as Mom said."

The entire room froze. Kirishima blinked in confusion. Mina slowly straightened up in her seat, and Kaminari’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

"D-Did he just call you *Dad*?" Kaminari stuttered, eyes wide.

Bakugou stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. "What the hell are you talking about, brat?!"

The boy crossed his arms, looking smug. "I’m your son. From the future. I wanted to see what you were like in high school."

It felt like time stopped as the Bakusquad processed this. They all slowly turned to Bakugou, who was staring at the boy as if he were seeing a ghost.

Jirou’s eyebrow shot up. "There’s no way."

"Yeah, no way," Sero said, but then he looked at the boy closer. "Wait…"

"He... kind of looks exactly like you," Mina noted, leaning in to inspect the kid.

"And he talks like you too!" Kirishima said, now more excited than confused.

The boy huffed, unimpressed. "Of course I look like him. I’m his kid."

Bakugou’s face went through about three shades of red before he managed to growl out, "No way in hell you’re my kid. This is some stupid joke."

"I’m serious, Dad," the boy said, rolling his eyes. "You’ve always been stubborn."

Bakugou was fuming, completely flustered by the idea. "Who’s the mom, then?!" he demanded, trying to keep control of the situation.

The boy blinked, then shrugged nonchalantly. "That’s easy. It’s—"

Before he could say another word, you strolled past the common room entrance, sipping on a drink, totally unaware of what was happening inside. You gave the group a little wave and continued on your way to the kitchen, completely oblivious to the chaos.

The boy’s eyes followed you, then he turned back to Bakugou, whispering loud enough for the whole group to hear, "*Wow, Mom looks so different when she was younger.*"

The room went dead silent again, and Bakugou froze, staring at the kid in absolute horror.

Mina choked on her drink, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Oh. My. God. Y/N is the mom?!"

Kaminari burst into hysterical laughter, falling back onto the floor. "Bakugou and Y/N? No way! This is gold!"

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Jirou muttered, but she was smiling, barely containing her own laughter.

Kirishima looked like his entire world had been turned upside down. "I mean... I could totally see it! Y/N’s always been the calm to Bakugou’s storm."

Bakugou’s face was burning red. "What the hell are you guys talking about?! I don’t like her!"

The boy, clearly having fun, shrugged again. "You can deny it all you want, Dad, but you always said you two didn’t get along at first, and then, well... things changed."

Mina couldn’t stop laughing, nearly falling off her chair. "Oh my God, Bakugou has a crush on Y/N!"

"I do not!" Bakugou roared, looking like he was ready to explode.

Kaminari snickered. "Oh, come on, man, it all makes sense now! That’s why you get so weird when she’s around."

Bakugou turned to Kirishima, desperate for backup. "Tell them they’re idiots!"

But Kirishima scratched the back of his head, looking conflicted. "I mean, bro, you *do* act kind of different when Y/N’s around..."

Sero leaned back, smirking. "Yeah, and let’s not forget how you yelled at Kaminari that one time when he tried to flirt with her."

"I didn’t *yell*," Bakugou snapped, fists clenched. "I just didn’t want him bothering her."

"Sure," Jirou drawled, arms crossed. "Because you’re so protective of everyone, right?"

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he looked ready to combust on the spot. "Shut up! I don’t like her! She’s just—just—"

"Your future wife?" Kaminari suggested with a cheeky grin.

"SHUT UP!" Bakugou barked, his face almost as red as his eyes. "That’s not happening!"

The boy snickered, clearly amused by his dad’s outburst. "Yeah, Dad, that’s what you always say."

Mina practically squealed. "Oh my God, this is the best thing ever! I can’t believe Bakugou ends up with Y/N!"

Bakugou shot a glare so intense that even Kaminari flinched. "I *don’t* end up with anyone! This is some kind of prank!"

Kirishima tried—and failed—to hide his smile. "I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to believe. Y/N’s awesome, and you’ve always had a soft spot for her."

Bakugou’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. "You’re all a bunch of idiots! There’s no way I’d—"

"—marry Y/N?" Jirou finished, smirking. "Sure, Bakugou. Keep telling yourself that."

The boy yawned, clearly bored now. "Can we hurry this up, Dad? I didn’t come all the way back in time just to watch you deny everything."

"Alright, that’s it!" Bakugou growled, grabbing the kid by the back of his shirt. "We’re going to figure out how to send you back, and you’re never mentioning any of this *bullshit* again."

Kaminari snickered, still laughing. "Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, bro."

Bakugou threw him a deadly glare as he dragged the boy toward the door. "Keep talking, Pikachu, and I’ll blow your damn face off."

As Bakugou stormed out of the room, the Bakusquad erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

"Man, I knew Bakugou had a thing for Y/N!" Mina said, wiping away tears of laughter. "But I never thought he’d be in *such* denial about it!"

Sero smirked. "This just proves it. Bakugou’s a softie at heart."

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. "I can’t wait to see his reaction when this happens for real."

As the laughter continued, you poked your head back into the common room, confused. "What’s so funny?"

Jirou snickered and waved you off. "Oh, nothing. Just... Bakugou being Bakugou."

You raised an eyebrow but shrugged, walking off again, still completely unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded in your name.

The Bakusquad exchanged knowing looks, grinning from ear to ear. One thing was for sure—Bakugou’s denials weren’t fooling anyone anymore.

[dollfacefantasy]

would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia

word count: 6.6k

a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.

“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.

“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”

“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.

You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.

Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.

You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal. 

“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris. 

He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.

Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.

Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.

Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.

“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.

“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.

His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”

“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”

Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?

You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.

“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.

You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.

Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.

Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.

“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?

“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.

He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.

Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.

That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.

And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.

You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.

You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.

For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.

His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.

Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.

You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.

If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.

Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.

As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud. 

At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick. 

Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.

By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.

You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.

“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.

You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.

“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”

His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”

“I guess…” you admit.

“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.

You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”

He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.

“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”

You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.

“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”

Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.

“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”

It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?

You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close. 

Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.

“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.

Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.

You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time. 

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.

All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.

Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.

“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”

“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.

“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”

You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.

“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.

You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.

“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”

You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”

You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.

“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.

Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.

“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.

“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.

Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.

“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”

You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.

The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.

“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”

You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.

“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”

A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.

“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.

Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.

“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”

Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.

He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.

Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.

“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”

You nod quickly. 

Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.

You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips. 

Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.

They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.

“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.

“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.

“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.

The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.

You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.

“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”

“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.

He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says. 

In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”

His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.

“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.

The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.

Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”

You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.

“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.

“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”

“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”

You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.

“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.

“You ready?” Chris asks softly.

You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.

And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.

“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.

You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.

“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.

Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.

When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.

“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”

You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.

“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.

“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.

His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.

You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.

“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.

Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.

Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.

You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.

“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”

You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.

“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.

“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.

They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.

“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”

You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.

“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”

Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him. 

Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.

When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.

After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.

It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.

Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.

Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.

“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.

“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”

You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again. 

“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.

“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.

[star2fishmeg]

ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ 'ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s so unfair!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, pretty boy,”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to her?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[shadowwfoxx]

Close Call 18+

(Henderson reader x Steve Harrington)

Sneaking around with Steve was a lot more challenging than the movies make it look. It wasn’t like you and Steve planned to keep your relationship a secret. It was only cause one day someone said you and Steve would look cute together and let’s just say that didn’t sit right with your little brother Dustin.

He absolutely despised the idea of Steve (his best friend) and you (his older sister) being a thing. That’s why what was going on in your room while Dustin and his friends were downstairs was risking it all.

Steve had snuck in through your window long after Dustin’s friends arrived. You gave your little lecture on how you guys would get caught and how he shouldn’t be here right now and blah blah blah. Steve was too busy admiring how your boobs looked in the pink lace bra you were wearing to listen.

“Are you really staring at my boobs right now?” You say while putting your hands on your hips. Steve didn’t respond, now possibly drooling.

“Steven”

“Hm?” He says, taking a long pause before looking at you. You squint your eyes and furrow your eyebrows. He looks back at your boobs and then back at you. “Babe you’re wearing my favorite bra how am I not supposed to look.”

You groan softly, still being mindful of your noise level. You walk towards your door to lock it. “Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas are all downstairs right now watching a movie.”

“So that buys us like what an hour? Two hours?” Steve says, totally disregarding what you just said. He starts to walk towards you, cornering you against the door. “I’ve got plenty of time then,” Steve smirks before he leans in to kiss you. You moan against his lips. Steve hands wander down from your waist, to your hips, then to your ass. He squeezes it harshly before pushing you against the growing tent in his jeans, grinding you against it.

That’s how you guys ended up naked on your bed, clothes forgotten all over the floor. Steve is gripping your hips hard as he thrusts into you. You’re gripping his forearms, nail marks appearing on his skin. It was the only way to distract yourself from making any loud noises.

You and Steve have officially been together for almost 4 months. During that time Steve has gotten to know your body and how to please you very well. Which is why he finds it very amusing when you try and stay quiet while he’s hitting all of the right spots. However, it feels like you can’t even control yourself anymore, now moaning a little too loud. Steve lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Thought you wanted to be quiet baby, hm? What happened?” Steve says teasing you even more. Your boobs bounce harshly as Steve continues to pound into you. He immediately leans down to wrap his mouth around your nipple sucking hard as his spit coats your boob. He reaches over and kneads the other, pinching at your nipple. This sends shocks all over your body. You whine softly. Your hands go straight to the back of his head, pulling on his soft locks. He groans against you.

“I ca-can’t you-fuck- feel too good.” You say a little loud but still breathless. Steve kisses up from your boobs until he reaches your lips. The kisses are filthy, tongues fighting for dominance, spit covering your lips, and heavy breathing into each other’s mouths. His pace never lets up, fucking you so hard into the bed.

“Shhh. Be quiet baby we’re gonna get-“ knocks at the door followed by the door knob jiggling interrupted Steve. He immediately stops his thrusts. You both go wide-eyed, staring at each other.

“Hey, why is your door locked let me in,” Dustin says as the jiggling becomes more intense. There was a long pause, you thinking of some excuse to say.

“I’m not-fuck,” Steve starts thrusting slow but deep into you, “feeling well right now.” You clench around his cock as you shoot him a glare. That asshole just looks down and smirks at you.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asks, the jiggling of the door knob stops. Just as you were gonna answer, Steve hits that spot inside of you that makes you go crazy. Your hand immediately goes over your mouth, muffling your moan.

“C’mon answer him.” Steve whispers to you. His breath is hot in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body. His slow thrusts allow you to feel every vein and detail of his cock, making your head spin.

“I’m-shit-I’m having some woman issues right now can you please just go away.” Your voice had an annoyed tone. You squeezed your eyes shut as you throw your head against the pillows trying so hard to not make a sound. Steve can’t get enough of it.

“Ok fine…gross.” You hear him mutter before he turns away down the hall. You wait to hear his footsteps pad down the stairs before you let out a sigh of relief.

“Woman issues huh?” Steve says grinning as he lightly pinches your outer thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me Harrington.” As If the smile on his face wasn’t any bigger. He wastes no time and picks up his pace again.

“Look who’s so desperate now.”

[russellsppttemplates]

helloooo! i have an idea for an imagine

what if charles & y/n where childhood friends and they always pretended to be married as kids (yk those games 😭😂) and then in the future they DO get married and one of their family members brings it up at the wedding and it's very funny but cute!

cw: mentions Charles' father

"We actually have a surprise for you", you mother said as she and Pascale looked at eachother before the guy in charge of the projector on the wall started playing a video. It was old, slightly grainy and you were not sure of what it was until it showed you and Charles.

"Why do we have to film it again, Y/N?", you heard your mother's voice as she focused the camera on you. You were wearing a pink dress and had some flowers on your hand, "Because me and Charles need to have this recorded for when we are older!", you smiled, "and what are you doing?", Charles' father's voice was heard, "we're getting married! Because Pascale and Hervé love eachother and they got married, mama and papa got married because they love eachother, so we are getting married, too!", you beamed.

Charles stood in the middle of the living room, Lorenzo taking the spot on his side as you walked closer to Charles. While Lorenzo was older than both of you, he went along, saying something about true love and how you were meant to be together. "Charles, do you have any vows?", he asked. "What are vows?", he asked, "it's like a promise you make to Y/N", he whispered back.

"Y/N", he began said confidently, "I promise to always love you, to show you all the beautiful things in life and to never leave you. Oh, and also to always share my food with you", he smiled.

"Charles", you followed, "I want you to know that you're the boy I love mostest in the world, and I'll always be by your side no matter what", you smiled, holding your hands in his.

"You can now kiss the bride!", Lorenzo announced as a shy six year old Charles kissed your cheeky sweetly before you hugged him, both of you smiling to the camera, "we're married!", Charles yelled, "Oh, we need to tell Pierre!", you chirped in.

"Oh my goodness!", Charles laughed while you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes, joining your guests as they commented how sweet it all was.

"I love how, as soon as we got married, you just wanted to tell Pierre", Francisca pointed out, napkin in her hand as she carefully wiped around your eyes, not wanting to ruin her makeup, "he was Charles' best friend and he wasn't there, I think I was being very considerate of him, actually", you stated, "and I was still a little bit jealous that Charles had another best friend at this age, probably just wanted to flash him that I loved Charles the mostest".

"Well, they were good promises, and I intend to keep those, too", Charles said, holding your hand in his once again, kissing your knuckles.

"We don't have it in recording, but Charles made my late husband, who I know would love to be here and knew this day would happen, get them a chocolate cake so they could have a honeymoon! Don't worry, it was an age appropriate trip to the slides at the park!", Pascale chuckled. Pierre saw an opportunity and he took it, "hopefully your honeymoon this time around also has very exciting slides and other fun things!", he toasted, sipping from his drink as you hid your blushed face in your husband's neck.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[themultifanshipper]

This was supposed to be a silly little blurb about giving Seb a blowjob, I don’t know how it got this out of hand.

Warnings: all of them. All the warnings.

Jk but there is sooo much in this fic. A bit of underage (but over 16), blowjobs, oral, p in v sex, rawdogging, rough sex, possessive Seb, a tad of subspace?, threesomes (if you don't want spoilers on the special guests don't look in the tags), voyeurism, undernegotiated dom/sub dynamics all over the place, infidelity (his IRL wife is included), smidge of angst but it’s really not the point of the fic lmao, mention of drugs and alcohol, I don’t condone anything I’ve written here guys. Although the warnings make it sound worse than it is tbh.

July 2007

I suppose you could say it all started when you were 13 and Sebastian had just been transferred to Toro Rosso.

Obviously nothing happened between you two given that he himself was 20 years old at the time. Although your childish crush on him had started way before that.

No, what happened at 13 was an embarrassing moment that got the ball rolling between you and Seb.

That night he was over at your parents’ house for a celebratory meal, for you, it was your birthday, for Sebastian Vettel, it was the beginning of a long and illustrious career.

Your father and him were good friends, Seb helped a lot with your brother's career in karting and you’d always been around the handsome blonde man. At various karting events with your brother, a gala here and there, and even at a couple of f1 races he had driven for BMW. By this time your crush was well and truly established, and subtlety not being your thing, your family knew all about it. And teased you relentlessly. And apparently now invited your crush to your birthday dinner... great.

Seb and your father were in the kitchen having a drink and helping your mother with the food when you heard your fathers voice drifting through the house.

“Man, think of all the blowies you’re gonna get!”

After a sharp scolding from your mother, the two burst out laughing and that was that. But the damage had been done.

At 13 years old, you had no idea what that meant. So you asked, at dinner, in front of your family, and your crush, what a blowie was.

Yeah, that went down well (pun intended, and note the sarcasm).

Your (15 year old) brother choked on his mouthful and shrieked in laughter, spraying your mother, who then slapped your father who was laughing maniacally beside her. Seb just went incredibly red and grinned “You’ll find out when you’re older, sunshine”

Okay, maybe the nickname should also be explained, after all it is the result of a previous embarrassing moment of your childhood.

It was at a karting track before a race and you were hanging out with your brother, some of his friends, and Seb. Or more accurately, you were following Seb around like a lost puppy. At this point you were 9, your brother 11 and Seb 16.

Someone had heard a dirty joke from the older boys at the track that went something like this:

“What is big, makes no noise, yet wakes us up every morning?”

And with your very innocent, very smart 9 year old brain you replied “the sunshine” which was supposed to be the right answer, but boys will be boys.

16 year old Seb thought that answer was hilarious.

“That is so adorable” he was wheezing “from now on I am calling you sunshine”

You were so embarrassed at not understanding the joke that you ran back to your father and told him about it, and he told the boys off sternly.

So anyway, there you were, a few years later, at dinner with your parents reliving that in your head, and living through yet another mortifying moment in front of Seb, who looked at you sympathetically from across the table, and kept sending you winks all throughout the evening, to try and make you feel better.

That night you looked up “blowie” online (of course a few days later the browser history conversation happened with your mother) and you were never the same again. You couldn’t stop imagining Seb getting blowjobs from all the girls he was indeed going to get, and it gnawed at you. For years. Of course, you knew you were too young for him, but it didn’t stop the fantasies from getting rather... wild.

2010 

You were 16, and Sebastian was about to win his first championship, you were sure of it. You were all in Abu Dhabi to support him (and the others of course) and you found yourself wandering into his drivers’ room just as he was putting his fireproofs on. You had expected his girlfriend Hanna to attend, but luckily for you she was busy, and you were going to make the most of that fact. You ogled his body for a second before he noticed you staring and grinned at you as he put his top on.

“There’s my sunshine!” You jumped into his arms like you’d done so many times before. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you before the race”

‘Of course! I'd consider myself a bad friend if I didn’t come to wish you good luck”

He put you down and dramatically threw himself on the sofa.

“Yeah! I’m going to need it”

“Oh, come on Seb I’m sure you’ll do great” You sat down next to him and put your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “If you want... I could give you a good luck present” you slid your hand slowly up his thigh and his leg jolted slightly “If you know what I mean”.

He glanced at your hand before looking back into your eyes, you could tell his mind was racing, obviously going in the right direction. “No, I don’t know what you mean” He gulped as your hand went higher and you batted your eyelashes at him.

“You know, I’m not the innocent kid who didn’t know what a blowie was anymore, I’ve learned a lot since then”.

Seb’s pupils were wide, and you could feel his fireproofs tenting under your hand. “I could show you if you’d like”.

You squeezed his cock over the fabric, and he grabbed your hand “Fuck sunshine, I can’t let you do this, you’re sixteen for fuck’s sake”

“Don’t act like you don’t fuck girls on the daily, Seb” You jumped up off the sofa and into his lap, straddling him.

“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby, and you’re still a minor, Fuck-” Your hand had slithered its way into his fireproofs and was squeezing around him like a vice.

“I’m past the age of consent, Seb, you know that. And I know you’ve thought about it. About me. You’re not as quiet as you think you are when you come round to our house, you know.” You trailed sloppy kisses down his neck and chest, over his fireproofs as your hands got rid of the bottom half.

“Shit, aaah-” He hissed, and his resolve crumbled under your touch. “Fuck”

“Please Seb, please let me suck your cock for good luck” You purred, and he let his hands grip onto your hair as you nosed up the length of his now exposed cock.

He was staring into your eyes, guilt written all over his face as he nibbled nervously on his lip. “Fuck, sunshine what are you doing to me”.

Instead of answering, you took half of him into your mouth and sucked. He cried out and bucked his hips involuntarily, making you choke slightly.

“Shit sorry!” His concern was adorable, but unnecessary.

“Don’t worry Sebby, I trained myself out of a gag reflex, just for you” and before he could say anything else you sank down on him to the base and the noise he let out was inhuman. His head fell back, and his eyes rolled into his skull.

Yeah, you’d definitely been practising. And you were unbelievable.

He did end up winning the race, and the championship. And you grinned at him when he looked down at you from the podium, shaking his head and laughing before almost getting drowned in champagne by Lewis and Jenson.

2011

The next year you showed up in his driver’ room at the Japanese Grand prix, per his request. You knew this was the race that would potentially secure him his second championship win so you strutted in, pushed him onto his little bed in the corner and kissed him senseless as your hands started undressing him immediately.

“Tell me, Seb-” You got his shirt open and trailed kisses down his chest. “Do you think you’re capable of winning the championship on your own this year?” Off went his trousers “Orrrr…” then went his underwear “Would you like a blowie, for good luck?” You grinned at him, mouth hovering inches away from his rapidly hardening cock.

He grinned back at you, slightly breathless. “I think-” he sat up and pulled you in for a quick kiss “you can never say no to a good blowie”. He lay back down, arms behind his head, and that was all you needed to get to work.

He did in fact win the race, and the championship.

You couldn’t make it to Abu Dhabi however, and he got a puncture on the first lap.

 Figures.

2012

You celebrated your 18th birthday with Sebastian, one on one. He took you out to dinner during the summer break. You had finally finished school and were moving on to other things. You had no idea what those things would be, but you were excited none the less. He’d managed to convince Hanna he was on a business trip to meet a sponsor, but you didn’t think for a second that she bought any of it.

Sebastian told you all about the intense race for the Championship, given you weren’t able to attend any of the races before the summer. He had apparently taken to relieving stress by fucking anything that moved, and that included some of the other drivers. You couldn’t help but imagine him being bent over his massage table, reduced to a begging mess by his teammate. Everything Seb told you about Mark got you riled up before dessert had even been served, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was his goal all along.

When you got back to his hotel, the real birthday celebration started. And it lasted all bloody night.

All the things Seb had thought about doing to you since the very first time you’d asked what a blowie was, he did to you that night. All the tension accumulated over the years finally boiled over, as he brought you over the edge so many times you lost count, with his mouth, his hands, his cock. He was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Nobody can have you like this, can they?”

“No Seb just you- Fuck!” You panted as he pounded into you from behind, pressing you against the massive hotel windows, facing the city lights.

 It was almost romantic. Almost.

“You think anyone can see you from down there? All those people that don’t know how good you’re being for me.” The thought of being seen made you even wetter and you whined. He only chuckled.

“I’m sure if Mark were walking past, he would love to know what is happening up here. Would you like that? Would you like Webber to watch you come undone on my cock?”

You didn’t even need to answer, you cried out in pure extasy as you came for the umpteenth time that night and then slumped against the cool glass. The only thing holding you up being Seb’s arm around your waist and his other one propping your leg up as he trapped you against the window, grinding into you as he came inside you with a groan.

“Well sunshine, I guess that’s a ‘yes’ then, hmm?” He whispered in your ear before pecking you on the cheek. He lifted you up, carried you to the bed and went to get a cloth to clean you up with.

You giggled when he came back “You know Seb, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re so obsessed with Mark that you want to show me off to him. Is it because you want him to approve of me? Or be jealous? Or do you just want to flaunt your amazing skills in bed that I’m suuure are better than his?” You were obviously just trying to rile him up.

He laughed dryly as he wiped you down but didn’t reply. Perhaps you’d struck a nerve. He didn’t mention Mark for a long time after that.

You couldn’t make the race in COTA, so it was critical for you to be at Interlagos with Seb. You got a plane ticket several days before and gave him a good luck blowjob every single night, for good measure.

He won, of course.

2013

2013 got real weird, real quick.

For starters, you were 19 with no job and no idea what you were going to do with your life, but you spent all your time around older millionaire formula 1 drivers. You were basically an honorary member of the team by now and had a free paddock pass for every race you could attend.

Then, there was the issue of Seb living with his girlfriend, so you couldn’t stay at his place anymore, and in the rare instances where you and Hanna saw each other, the other drivers became exceptionally awkward around the both of you.

The last thing was, Mark didn’t win a single race all season, and Seb was a huge dick about it. He strutted around Mark in the paddock like a peacock. And he took you to every other GP to fuck you in his drivers’ room when he knew Mark could hear you from next door, just to drive him crazy.

It all came to a head in India. The race that secured Seb his fourth consecutive championship.

He was fucking you in his drivers’ room (more like railing the absolute shit out of you) on the long sofa that lined the wall. Face down, ass up, you were being loud, no longer caring about Mark hearing you.

Then, his phone started buzzing, Mark’s name flashed across the screen, along with an unflattering photo.

Seb answered it, put him on speaker and set the phone down next to your head.

“Would you two keep it down, the whole bloody garage can hear you!” Mark hissed.

“Yeah?” Seb answered “Hear that, sunshine? Everyone can hear how good I’m fucking you” His hips kept slapping against yours obscenely.

You moaned and Mark scoffed “Sounds like she’s faking Sebby, I guess those championships must be compensating for something...”

“Why don’t you come in here and say that to my face then Webber” Seb spat before hanging up.

You gasped as he grabbed your hair and pounded into you harder. “Seb! What-”

“You like having an audience, admit it.” He growled “You’d like nothing more than if Webber stormed in here and-”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Mark did just that. He was standing at the door, flushed, as if he’d sprinted over.

You turned your head to look at him but before you could say anything, Seb slowed down to a hard grind inside you, making your eyes roll back and you let out a shaky moan.

Mark’s eyes were scanning you and Seb, checking you both out. And obviously enjoying the view if the tent that was forming in his fireproofs was any indication.

From his angle he could see where Seb’s cock was buried inside you, where you were literally dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa and he let out a gasp. “Fuck Seb, she’s so wet”

“I guess she’s not faking then” Seb said smugly, picking up the pace again.

A lack of response from Mark prompted Seb to sigh and beckon him over.

“Don’t just stand there, come sit down, this will take a while”.

“What?” Utterly fucked out, you twisted your upper body to look at him, the confusion on your face matching Mark’s.

Seb smirked at you. “We’re going to play a little game, okay sunshine? I’m going to make you feel good, and Mark is going to watch. But you cannot come until he does, understand?”

Your jaw dropped, and he gave a hard thrust. “Understand, baby?” He repeated and you nodded quickly.

He turned to Mark “Well? You don’t want to be the reason she can't come, do you? Get to work.”

“Shit” Mark looked half murderous, half ridiculously turned on as he slowly lowered his suit and freed himself, starting to work his dry hand up and down his cock slowly and Seb chuckled “Put you hand out”.

Mark did as he was told, confused, and he almost combusted on the spot as you spat on his hand.

“Wow, she’s such a good girl, isn’t she?”

Seb groaned, as if Mark was talking to him. The older man’s presence was finally getting to him.

Mark’s hand inched towards your face, but Seb slapped it away. “No touching, she is mine”.

You tightened around him, about to come when he abruptly pulled out. You whined and squirmed as your orgasm faded, but he just shushed you and turned you over onto your back roughly, almost knocking the wind out of you. “Shhh baby, remember the rules?” He was rubbing your hips soothingly as he spoke “Mark has to come first, I’m not the one you should be begging”.

You turned to the other man.

“Please Mark, please, please come. I need to come so bad, Mark, please, fuck I need it...”  You were almost babbling at this point, and Mark melted.

Sebastian swiftly slid back into you as Mark’s hand picked up the pace on his own cock, glancing at your writhing body and at Seb. You tightened around him as you felt yourself get closer to the edge again. The two men were grunting and looking straight at each other as they moved, almost as if they were trying to get each other off. Their weird power play was tipping back and forth, and you were caught in the middle. Not that you were complaining.

Mark came all over himself and you felt Seb throbbing inside you as he started rubbing your clit to get you off faster, the sight of his teammate was affecting his self-control, and he was getting closer by the second. You came together, and he slumped over you, his legs and arms giving out.

Mark was panting and you looked at each other, having a silent conversation while Seb was recovering. He got up to go and get cleaned up in the small adjacent bathroom.

While he was gone, you stroked up and down Seb’s back and whispered in his ear “You okay, Seb?”

He sniffled into your neck before replying “Yes, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”  He lifted his head to kiss you before flashing you his signature grin. “I’m a four-time formula 1 world champion!”

The two of you giggled and he dropped his head back down and sighed contentedly, planting lazy kisses on your shoulder.

Mark came out of the bathroom and laughed silently at Sebastian behind his back. You scowled and the two of you argued with your eyes again. ‘Congratulate him you prick!’ Your eyes said.  He rolled his before walking up to your entangled bodies and put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, making the younger man shiver. “Congrats on the title, mate. But there’s a few races left, I could still beat you.”

Seb snorted “Sure, if you say so. Now you can fuck off”.

You smirked at Mark, and he slinked out of the room without another word.

Well needless to say he did not beat Sebastian. And he promptly retired.

 2014

It was a shit year for Redbull, Seb DNF’d in Australia, Monaco, and Austria. He didn’t win a single race, but his new teammate Daniel did, and that was a sore subject. You lost count of the amount of pity blowjobs you gave him that year. He came to visit you often to lift his spirits, but you could always tell the season wasn’t going great, and it was taking a toll on him.

The one good thing to come out of that season was that you travelled around with him a lot, Hanna not being particularly interested in attending races. He was certainly rich enough to pay for your flights and hotels (not that you needed separate rooms most of the time).

You were the first person to know about his transfer to Ferrari. And you were both very excited about it. New team, new start, hopefully new championship wins.

Unbeknownst to you however, Seb had added an extra condition when he negotiated his new contract...

2015

During winter break, just before Christmas, Seb came to see you in at your parents’ house. That’s how you found out that he had gotten you a job at Ferrari, as part of his contract.

You were elated. It meant you would be around each other a lot more, and you could start pulling your own weight, feeling a little guilty that Seb had sort of been your sugar daddy for the past few years, not that he minded of course. And it also meant no more sneaking around and avoiding cameras at races to not alert Hanna to your presence at Seb’s side most of the time, not that it was really a secret anymore, you two weren’t discreet around the other drivers, and the drivers were all fucking each other as well anyway so no one cared.

As tradition dictated, you gave Seb an obligatory blowie to celebrate his Ferrari contract and your new job. And then, your parents being out of town, you had wild passionate nasty sex on every surface, as you wouldn’t be seeing each other for a few months, until the season started.

Needless to say, there would be no Championship win celebration blow job in Abu Dhabi, that year.

2017

It was your 3rd year working on the media team at Ferrari. It was a blast, you were severely overpaid, and you got to spend most of your time with the man you were having intimate relations with. Who could ask for more?

In Silverstone, Seb made a bet with Kimi. They were high (not on adrenaline, just high) and decided to wager on who would finish on top in the race. Kimi got a podium while Seb only got p7, but Kimi not being a man with a huge imagination, he had no idea what favour he wanted. So, it dragged on for months, until one day you were filming a promo video in Singapore with them, and his mind suddenly came up with the answer.

“Her” He pointed at you from across the room. Seb feigned innocence, pretending not to know what Kimi was inferring.

“What about her?” he asked tentatively.

Kimi smirked devilishly. “I want her. For the bet, you know. I want to watch you. To see how disappointing you are in bed”

He was only teasing, but he knew exactly how to get under Seb’s skin. So he agreed, and he asked you, and you agreed. Great. Kimi Räikkönen was going to watch you have sex, no biggie. After all, you’d done it before with Mark, this would be fine.

After a frustrating double DNF, you all went out to karaoke. You didn’t think Kimi was the type, but he showed up to the bar already three sheets to the wind, so you figured he wasn’t really there for the singing anyway.

Kimi was giving you sultry looks all night, which sent shivers down your spine. You’d never considered the man to be the epitome of hotness, but you couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to spend a night with Kimi. Was he passionate? Or was he just as ice cold as always?

You would soon find out as the three of you piled into a taxi back to the hotel, both Seb and Kimi’s wandering hands distracting you from trying to give the driver the address.

On the way, you’d ended up with Seb’s mouth on you neck and Kimi’s hand up your skirt, gently teasing you over the pathetic peace of fabric you called underwear.

By the time you were up into someone’s room, who’s room it was was impossible to say, your senses were engulfed by the two men. Kimi was behind you, trailing his mouth over your neck and shoulders and holding you up, while Seb was on his knees between your legs, one of them hooked over his shoulder, tongue eagerly working itself over your needy pussy as his fingers worked over that special spot deep inside you.

You came like that, then Seb stood back up and asked, “How was that, sunshine?”

You scoffed in disbelief at the question “It was amazing as always, baby. Are you going to fuck me now?”

He raised his eyebrows at Kimi, like ‘disappointing huh? I think not’ then pointed to the chair in the corner to signal to Kimi to sit in it, and led you over to the bed and put you on all fours.

He was halfway through railing you into next week, one hand holding your arms behind your back and the other around your neck, when Kimi piped up from the cuck chair.

“Can I come on her tits?”

Seb paused mid thrust and you whined “What do you think, sunshine? You want him to come all over your pretty tits, baby?”

“Yes, Seb, anything just keep going please!” You begged, but he didn’t move.

“Ah, ah, sunshine, be a good girl and tell Kimi what you want him to do to you”.

You huffed and looked at Kimi, who was observing you with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly open as he pumped his cock leisurely, waiting for an answer.

“Yes Kimi, please come all over my tits, I’ll be a good girl for you”.

The two men groaned in unison, and Seb picked up the pace again. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you, so he flipped you over onto your back and slid back into you quickly, beckoning Kimi over. He circled your clit expertly and you both came together fairly quicly, while Kimi watched and pumped his cock furiously, not far off as well.

“Go on then Kimi, give it to me” you gasped, sticking your tongue out for him, and that was it for the Finnish man.

He came in spurts over your chest, face, and mouth as he let out a shaky groan, finishing himself off before finding his pants and leaving with a simple “You two looked good” and winked at you. Truly a man of many words.

You and Seb laughed together, the adrenaline coming down as you both cleaned up and snuggled up under the covers.

“Weirdly, that wasn’t horrible” You giggled, and Seb acquiesced.

“You know, I think I like sharing you.” Seb kissed your temple, and you hummed, sleep almost taking you before he added “How do you feel about David Coulthard?”

You gasped and slapped his shoulder lightly “Oh my god he’s ancient!” and Seb scoffed, offended but let it go, sleep overtaking you both.

But he didn’t forget.

2019

All Sebastian could talk about for months was the eager twink Ferrari had dumped in his lap. So of course you had to have a taste. Or rather...

“My goodness Charles, you have got to taste her”.

Charles looked at you for permission before diving in. Even though he was younger than you, he obviously had experience as he brought you to the edge in no time. He got you wet and shaking before Seb had even finished taking his clothes off. You gasped as the waves of pleasure washed over you and Charles continued his assault on your weeping pussy. Seb only yanked him up by the hair after your second orgasm, and he looked absolutely wrecked. Face covered in your wetness, lips swollen, and eyes completely glazed over. Sebastian leaned in close to speak softly in his ear, making the younger man shiver.

“You want to fuck her Charlie? You want to fill her up properly while I fuck her pretty little mouth?” He said, while maintaining eye contact with you. Charles nodded a bit too enthusiastically and you both laughed at him.

Lucky for you, Charles’ cock was thick, and he stretched you out wonderfully while Sebastian fucked gently into your mouth. You were on your hands and knees, shaking through your 3rd orgasm when Charles finally came inside you, filling you to the brim.

While he cleaned himself up in the hotel bathroom, Seb turned you over onto your back and slipped inside you with ease. He started a maddeningly slow rhythm as he wrapped his arms around you possessively, and you tried to cling onto him, but your arms were useless at this point.

When Charles came back out, Seb didn’t even look at him as he told him he could go, so he didn’t push his luck and scarpered.

“Only I can have you like this” you preened under his touch, his hands gliding over your body, pinching your skin, and then soothing it as you went completely mad underneath him.

“Please Seb” You babbled mindlessly “I’ll be good, please, please just- “. Your eyes closed of their own volition and your head rolled to the side, losing all motor skills as he continued hitting that spot deep inside you. He grabbed your jaw and made you look back at him “You’re mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you beg like this, right sunshine?”

You wailed as you came around him, your final orgasm of the night taking its toll on you, rendering you completely boneless. And you didn’t move at all while he slipped out and got up to get you cleaned up. And you barely registered the bed shifting as settled under the covers with you, holding you gently, like you were the most precious thing in his world.

That year, Seb got married to his childhood sweetheart.

2022

The next time you saw him outside of the paddock was at his retirement party. The whole grid was there, plus his family, his friends, your family, and a bunch of other people. And his wife.

It was a proper retirement bash, and most people were at least tipsy within an hour of their arrival, Seb insisting on everyone getting shit faced to celebrate.

You snuck up to his bedroom and sat on the bed. You sighed longingly, it was surely the last time you would get to do this.

Seb came up a few minutes after you, after making sure someone was occupying Hanna.

He opened you up on his fingers, mouth mapping out your body, as if trying to imprint the feeling of it on his tongue. Once he slid inside you, it took you both an embarrassingly short amount of time to reach your peaks, but you did so together, your foreheads pressed together, breathing in each other’s air, hands scrambling for purchase on each other’s bodies. Then staying wrapped in each other’s arms for far longer than was necessary.

It was bittersweet. The end of an era.

Once you were both decent, you went back down and ensured that only good memories would be had of this party, lighting up the dance floor, lighting up the bar (you made flaming cocktails, which someone *cough*Charles*cough* spilled on the bar), all the while laughing, and crying a bit, with some of Seb’s soon to be ex-fellow drivers.

Epilogue:

It was Suzuka 2023, and you’d been waiting for this moment for months.

Seb’s bee house project was great for the bees and all, but it was even better for you.

The evening of his arrival at the paddock, you were buzzing (pun intended) with excitement.

When you spotted him, you shrieked, scaring a couple of engineers nearby, and ran towards him. It was a bit unprofessional given that you were still very much an FIA employee, but you couldn’t help it, you jumped into his waiting arms, like you’d done so many times before, and squeezed the life out of him.

“Sunshine!” Seb smiled as he lowered you back down.

“Old man!” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not that old”

“You’re retired, and I have work to do!” you said, as you started walking away.

“Doesn’t mean I’m old, means I had a successful career!” he shouted at your retreating figure.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Grandpa!”

Cut to a few hours later in his hotel room.

“Are you sure it’s okay for old people to get blowies?” You mocked as you got down on your knees between Sebastian’s legs “Like, you’re not going to have a heart attack are you?”

“I think.” He gripped your hair, bringing your mouth to his cock.

“You can never say no to a good blowie”.

The end.

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.