#what always gets me is that she lets him do this

[solaceseven]

THINGS THEY DO THAT MAKE YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'

→ pairings: gojo satoru, geto suguru, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, toji fushiguro.

→ a/n: finally had the time to write something!! school has been keeping me busy!! implied female reader for toji’s part.

GOJO - being touchy.

you’re used to gojo’s touch.

the way he drapes himself over your shoulders like a human scarf, pulling you into his side without a second thought. the way his hand finds the small of your back when he guides you through a crowd, his palm pressing firm against you, like he’s staking a silent claim. you’ve grown accustomed to the way he plays with your fingers absentmindedly—twisting your rings, tracing circles over your knuckles—while he rambles about something completely unrelated.

it’s always been like this.

that’s what you tell yourself, at least. that it doesn’t mean anything. that he’s like this with everyone.

but lately, it’s been getting harder to believe that.

because his touches have started to linger. his fingers don’t just graze your wrist anymore—they rest there, warm and grounding, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate strokes against your pulse. when he reaches for something above your head, he doesn’t just stretch over you; he presses his chest against your back, close enough that you feel the heat of him seep into your skin.

and then there’s the way he looks at you.

like right now.

you’re both sprawled out on his couch, half-watching some random movie he insisted was a classic (it’s not), when you feel it—his fingers, absentmindedly tracing shapes on your wrist.

you try not to react, try to focus on the screen, but your breath catches anyway. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps going, slow and lazy, the pads of his fingers skating along your skin like he’s mapping out something only he can see.

your pulse jumps when his fingers move up—tracing the inside of your forearm now, featherlight. it’s not accidental. you know it. he knows it.

but he doesn’t stop.

you sneak a glance at him, expecting that usual smug grin, but he’s still staring at the screen. too casual. too relaxed. he’s testing you.

like he’s waiting for you to do something about it.

you should move your arm. you should pull away. you should call him out.

but you don’t.

because the way he’s touching you now—it’s not friendly. it’s not casual. it’s not something he does with anyone else.

and the worst part?

he knows you know it.

GETO - never correcting people when they assume you’re his partner.

you don’t think anything of it at first.

you and geto move through the grocery store like you always do—bickering over which brand of cereal is better, tossing random snacks into the cart, laughing when he makes fun of your terrible attempts at balancing fruit on top of an already overflowing pile of groceries.

it’s easy. it’s comfortable. it’s just you and him.

and then you get to checkout.

the cashier, an older woman with kind eyes, watches as geto effortlessly lifts the heavy bags before you can even reach for them. he does it without thinking, just like how he had taken the cart from you earlier, just like how he always opens doors for you, just like how his hand had rested on the small of your back when guiding you through the aisles.

she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple.”

you freeze.

your brain short-circuits for a split second, mouth already opening to correct her, but then—then you hear nothing from geto.

not a single word of clarification. not even a chuckle or a shake of his head.

nothing.

instead, he just hums, tilting his head slightly as if considering the statement. he doesn’t deny it. doesn’t laugh it off. just lets the words sit there, completely unbothered.

your head snaps toward him, eyes wide.

he meets your gaze, entirely too calm, a slow smirk forming at the corner of his lips. and then—because he’s absolutely insufferable—he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk.

“you hear that?” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. “we’re a lovely couple.”

you want to strangle him.

your reaction must be obvious because the cashier just beams, clearly convinced she was right. “oh, young love is so sweet. you take good care of them, dear.”

geto chuckles, and before you can protest, he effortlessly places a hand on the back of your head, ruffling your hair like you’re some flustered little thing.

“always,” he says smoothly.

you don’t remember the rest of the transaction. you’re too busy contemplating whether it’s legal to strangle someone with a grocery bag.

as you’re walking out, geto leans in again, voice dripping with amusement.

“you could’ve corrected them,” he muses, lips dangerously close to your ear. “but you didn’t.”

your stomach flips. you hate that he’s right.

NANAMI - always taking care of you.

you don’t plan on staying this late.

but time slips away between deadlines and last-minute emails, and before you know it, the office is nearly empty, the sky outside painted in deep shades of navy. you sigh, rubbing your temples, already dreading the long commute home.

by the time you step out onto the quiet street, the city lights glowing around you, your phone buzzes.

you don’t have to check to know who it is.

nanami: where are you?

your stomach flips.

you: just leaving work. why?

the message is barely delivered before another one comes in.

nanami: stay there. i’ll be there in five.

you frown at your screen. he was nearby?

true to his word, exactly five minutes later, a familiar figure approaches.

nanami, dressed in his usual crisp attire, looking entirely too put together for this hour. he doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at you, scanning you over like he’s checking for any signs of exhaustion.

“you should have left earlier,” he says, voice even, but you catch the slight furrow of his brow.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, i got caught up.”

“hm.” he exhales, the sound bordering on exasperation, before tilting his head toward the direction of your apartment. “let’s go.”

you blink. “what?”

“i’ll walk you home.”

you huff a laugh. “nanami, it’s fine. i can handle walking alone.”

he gives you a flat look, as if the idea is so ridiculous it doesn’t even warrant a response. Instead of arguing, he simply starts walking, fully expecting you to follow.

and—of course—you do.

it’s not the first time he’s done this. You know it won’t be the last.

he doesn’t hover, doesn’t lecture you about staying late. but his presence is solid beside you, steady and unwavering. his hands stay in his pockets, but you know—if anything were to happen, if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way—he’d be on them in a second.

as you near your building, you sneak a glance at him. “you didn’t have to do this, you know.”

nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like you’re the one giving him a headache. “i know.”

“…then why do you?”

he stops walking. turns to face you, studying you for a long moment.

then, with a sigh—like he’s so tired of explaining the obvious—he simply mutters:

“because you don’t take care of yourself.”

and that’s that. no room for debate. no further explanation.

your heart stumbles in your chest.

because he doesn’t say i worry about you. he doesn’t say i do it because I care.

but he doesn’t have to.

the truth lingers in the quiet, in the way he watches you, in the way he makes sure you’re safe—every single time.

and when you step inside your building, looking back one last time, you catch him still standing there. waiting.

making sure you’re okay.

like he always does.

SUKUNA - being unreasonably jealous.

it starts off as nothing.

a passing comment here, an unimpressed scoff there. sukuna has always been blunt, always had a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare. but lately, you start to notice a pattern—one that becomes impossible to ignore.

it happens again tonight.

you’re out with friends, the atmosphere light and easy, laughter filling the air. you’re mid-conversation with some guy—a friend of a friend, nothing special—when you feel it.

that presence.

it’s not loud or obvious, but it’s there. a weight lingering at your back, pressing into your skin before you even turn around.

and when you do—

sukuna is already watching.

seated across the table, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his gaze locked onto you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. bored. blank. irritated.

you try to ignore it. you keep talking, keep laughing at whatever the guy is saying, but it doesn’t matter. because every time you sneak a glance in sukuna’s direction, his eyes are still on you.

unwavering. unrelenting.

you swallow, trying to shake the weird tension creeping up your spine. but then the guy leans in slightly—just slightly—and that’s all it takes.

there’s a sharp scrape of a chair against the floor.

and then sukuna is there, standing beside you, a hand dropping heavily onto your shoulder.

“alright,” he drawls, voice slow, lazy, but carrying something unmistakably sharp. “this conversation looks thrilling.”

the guy stiffens. you do, too.

you glance up at sukuna, narrowing your eyes. “what are you doing?”

“listening.” his fingers tap idly against your shoulder, his weight sinking into the space beside you like he belongs there. “should i join? or is this, what—special?”

your brows furrow. “are you serious?”

he tilts his head slightly, feigning confusion, but you know that look. the glint in his eyes, the smirk barely tugging at his lips—he’s enjoying this.

the guy across from you clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “uh—i was just—”

“no, no,” sukuna interrupts smoothly, finally dragging his gaze away from you to look at him. “you were just what?”

the guy hesitates, then shakes his head. “never mind.”

and just like that, he stands, mumbling something about needing another drink before walking away.

you whip around to face sukuna fully, shoving his arm off your shoulder. “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he doesn’t move, doesn’t even pretend to be remorseful. if anything, he looks amused. “relax,” he hums. “didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

you scoff. “oh? and how exactly was he looking at me?”

sukuna shrugs, completely nonchalant. “like he could have you.” his head tilts, eyes flickering over your face. “and he can’t.”

your heart stumbles.

you open your mouth, then close it. because what do you even say to that? what does he even mean by that?

he smirks at your silence, reaching out to flick your forehead lightly before leaning in—just close enough that your breath catches.

“relax, brat,” he murmurs, voice deep, low, too much. “i’m just looking out for you.”

you should shove him away. roll your eyes. call him out for acting like an overprotective asshole.

but instead, you just sit there, pulse unsteady, second-guessing everything you thought you knew about this friendship.

because you know sukuna. and you know damn well—

this wasn’t just him looking out for you.

TOJI - flirting with you consistently.

it starts small. barely noticeable at first.

a lazy smirk here, a lingering touch there.

you don’t even think much of it in the beginning. it’s just toji being toji, right? he flirts with everyone—cashiers, waitresses, random people in passing. it’s just how he is.

except… it’s different with you.

because when he leans in close, voice dropping lower just for you to hear— “that color looks real good on ya, sweetheart. what, tryna drive me crazy?”—his eyes don’t leave your face. because when his fingers skim the small of your back, guiding you through a crowd, they stay there a second too long to be casual. because when he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth, he’s comfortable like he belongs there—like he’s claiming that space.

and then there are the compliments.

not just the casual you look nice or that suits you. no, never that simple.

“bet guys lose their damn minds over you.” he says it so offhandedly, like it’s just a fact—just something everyone knows.

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “yeah, sure.”

“i mean it,” he murmurs, and you hate the way your stomach flips when his gaze settles on you, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. “if i were them, i wouldn’t let you outta my sight.”

you tell yourself you’re imagining it—that he’s just messing with you. that’s what he does.

but then it keeps happening.

every single time, without fail.

you’re just trying to grab something from a high shelf? suddenly, he’s behind you, reaching over your head, his chest nearly brushing against your back. he doesn’t have to get that close. he knows it. you know it. but he does it anyway, voice low in your ear as he hands you whatever you needed.

“next time, just ask me, yeah? don’t gotta strain that pretty little neck of yours.”

you push him away, muttering something under your breath, and he just laughs, all smug amusement.

he’s always touching you, like he can’t help himself. a hand grazing the back of your neck when he adjusts your hoodie. his palm resting against your thigh when he leans in to say something. he doesn’t cling to you, doesn’t make a big show of it—but it’s there. subtle. constant. a quiet, unspoken thing.

and then—then, there are the moments that really get to you.

like when you’re out with friends, sitting side by side, and his fingers find the hem of your sleeve. absentmindedly playing with the fabric, rolling it between his fingertips. he doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it, just listening to the conversation, relaxed and completely at ease. like touching you is second nature to him.

or when you’re waiting in line for something, standing close, and he leans in just slightly, dropping his voice low.

“keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to your lips for half a second. “gonna start thinkin’ you want somethin��� from me.”

your breath catches.

and the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he sees it. every damn time.

sees the way your pulse flutters at your throat. sees the way your fingers twitch, like you don’t know what to do with them. sees the way you avoid his gaze, pretending like your entire body isn’t reacting to him.

and every time, without fail—he just smirks.

like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. like he’s enjoying it. like he’s waiting—patient, unhurried—for you to break first.

and the thing is…

you think he knows you will.

eventually.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Nick has been your best friend for so long, but you can’t seem to get a long with his brother—Chris. You try to mess with Chris and it backfires….badly….

Warnings: illegal street racing, stupid driving, tension, smut with so much plot it hurts, street racer Chris, BIG MASSIVE SHLONG CHRIS, size kink, bulge kink, dick-wad Chris, p n v, raw sex, riding (wink), and more....

A/N: THIS IS OVER 5.2K WORDS. THIS IS NAWT A QUICK READ. Now, get in the car bitches, we're getting HORNYYYYYY!!!!

With love and bigs tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, cute jeans!” I wave, my lips curling into a grin as I squint my eyes at him—Chris. He rolls his tongue, shaking his head as he stalks off further down the street. Ha. 

It’s one of those rare occurrences—I’m here—at his street race, for god knows what reason. 

All I ever do is mock him. In fact, that’s why I call him cute jeans. The first time Nick and I had shown up at one of these dumb things, Chris thought I was a stranger from behind—and my jeans? Damn. 

He had to be a real asshole and hit on me. 

That night was fun for more than one reason. It sparked something—something I didn’t know existed. 

After that, my teasing only got worse. Chris’s ego couldn’t handle staying silent, he always had something smart to say. 

“Come to watch me again, huh? Gonna record it for later, I bet,” Chris winks. My mouth snaps shut as I go to say something back. He’s already gone—not giving me a second to respond before shutting the door to his car and speeding down the road. 

Typical. 

It’s still bright out. The sun sinks lower into the horizon as more people crowd the deserted street by the minute. 

“Okay, let’s just take a couple more pics and then we’ll go. I know you hate this,” Nick huffs, adjusting the leather jacket he’s wearing—the same coat that inspired this whole photoshoot. But you couldn’t blame him, he did look hot as fuck. 

Even if his looks resemble a certain idiot lurking nearby. 

Part of me is burning with spite. I hate letting Chris have the last word. But my brain sparks with an idea, a brilliant idea. 

How much would it cost him if I stayed around? 

Those stupid bets were always placed in his favor. No one could deny he was good—really good. He drove on the street like he owned it and he never even seemed nervous. 

“I kinda wanna stay—” My words are interrupted as I feel an arm rest down on my shoulders. I look over to see Beck, a girl I love seeing. 

She’s vibrant—especially with her signature red lip that seemed to draw all eyes to her. I always blossom off her confidence, loving to sit next to her when she showed true female power all with one swing of that stupid flag in the air. 

“How are ya, girlie? Haven’t seen you in months,” she puffs, hugging me a little bit closer before dropping her arm back to her side. 

I smile over at her. “Pretty good, you still stomping on egos?” I question, the glint of mischief in her eyes reflecting back as she gives me a slow nod. 

“Oh, always. Especially Chris—and it’s just for you.” She boops my nose as her words drag through the wind, the sound of tires screeching starting to muffle the chaotic hum of the crowd forming. 

Nick stares down at the camera lens, scrolling through the pictures I had taken of him—the reason why we were here, pretty much. “Actually, I think we got enough. But are you sure you wanna stay? I can come back and get you later—”

Beck brushes on Nick’s shoulder. She scrunches her nose at me while licking over her teeth. “I got her, Nick. Go home and post those pics, I’ll return her to you safely after tonight, don’t worry.” 

“Alright…” Nick sighs, reluctantly hugging me and wandering back towards his car to head home. 

“So why’d you wanna stay? Finally like cars?” Beck interrogates. 

I shake my head vigorously, laughing as she smiles at me. “Fuck no, I just—”

“You’re gonna mess with him, aren’t you?”

Her question rings through the air as a speeding car flies by—racers already warming up.

My eyes trace towards the track, seeing a sleek red sports car in the distance doing donuts. Of fucking course. Chris was always doing some dumb shit—illegal street racing or doing fucking donuts while the other racers were repeatedly drifting around the corners or fixing up their cars. 

He’s so cocky. 

I whisper back to her as I watch his car tires mark the pavement. “Damn right.”

___

Chris is already fed up—I can tell by the way his jaw clicks and his nostrils flare when I catch him in the corner of my eye. 

And I’m looking directly at him, a stupid smile covering my face as I put my money on the bet table. It’s twenty bucks, but it was twenty bucks I was willing to spend, or rather waste. Chris hasn’t lost in a while—honestly I’m not sure if he ever has. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chris huffs, pulling me by the arm as he drags me to the side of the road by his car. 

He roughly shoves me. The feeling of his car pressed up against my backside leaves my eyes twinkling with pride—I’m really getting to him. Just like I planned.

I shrug. “Just placing my bets. Isn’t that what everyone does at these—”

“Why are you here? Why’re you–,” as his eyes stare into mine, his rough tone falls silent, his scowl curling into a smirk as he analyzes the subtle twitch of my nose. “Huh—just comin’ to watch, right?” 

I nod to his question, my pride sinking to my feet as I try to stand up tall. Chris presses his body against mine, making my weight lean against the car once more. I swallow thickly as his hand drops from my arm. 

What is he doing?

“You know, I meant it, right?” he tuts, his eyes tracing your figure with no shame. “These jeans… baby, they look so good on you.” His voice gets deeper, his head falling forward as his lips graze my ear. “-bet they’d look better off though, hm?”  

Fuck. 

I wish it didn’t make something inside the pit of my gut burn—but it did. God, it really fucking did. My heart is hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck pounding in my ears as slight butterflies in my stomach make it harder to breathe. 

Shoving my body quickly, I manage to escape his hold. “Shut up. You’re such a cocky prick,” I spit, my arms folding across my chest as I try to keep a stern expression. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh, grinning like he’s already won. He takes a couple steps forward, letting his hand travel into the ends of my hair, “And yet, you love it. I can practically hear how nervous I’m makin’ you, it’s a real ego boost,” he husks. 

“You don’t make me—” My lips fall open further, motionless as his hand moves to my neck, his cold fingers brushing against my pulse as my eyes go wide. 

“Not nervous, huh…” His head leans towards the side as he stares all over my face. His eyes linger on my lips as I try to look away. 

But it’s impossible. Chris swerves his head, not letting my eyes leave his as he just stares at me. 

“Chris, stop—”

“Why? Do I make you too nervous?” he urges, licking over his teeth and letting his hands drop down to his sides. 

I feel a wave of heat caress up my spine and over my shoulders. “Don’t you have some stupid race to lose?” 

The taunt seems humorous to him, the last resolve of my dignity peeking through mumbled words as he wipes over his mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll go try to lose, but—I might need your help.” He shrugs, walking off with a wink. 

Uh oh. 

Help?

___

I can’t tell what the fuck is going through his brain. Part of me regrets staying—but another part of me is sickly invested in whatever this twisted game is. 

Nearly all bets had been placed. Stacks of money rested on the plastic table with a heavy bais—most were betting on Chris. 

It had to be at least two grand. 

He wouldn’t give up two grand for some petty argument with me, right? No—that would be insane. Absolutely bonkers. 

…right?

I watch as Beck stands in the middle of the dark street, the only glow coming from the blue streetlights above. The sun had set quickly, the stars and moon doing nothing compared to the headlights from all the cars.

My legs hurt. I didn’t realize I had been clenching every muscle for the entirety of the countdown to the actual race. The cold bleachers sting against my skin in the night air—maybe I would’ve dressed warmer if I thought I was gonna stay. But no—I was stuck shivering in jeans, a purple lace bra peeking from under my black top, and a letterman jacket. 

The front row gave the best view, but I had no one to shield the bitter breeze. But it was worth it. This way I got to sit by Beck the entire time. 

“Racers ready?” she shouts, her voice prominent over the reviving engines as she holds the flag in the air. 

Chris is on the side closer to me, his boyish smile apparent as I stare at the side of his face. The other guy was one of the better ones—the bets had some sort of hope in him, a large stack of bills showing that he had a decent amount of skill. 

My mouth waters as I see Chris run a hand through his hair, his head turning and his eyes catching mine. Holy fuck. He looks absolutely dreamy—there’s not an ounce of anxiety, pure confidence radiating from him. 

And it makes it so hard to look away. 

“Wait, I got one more bet I gotta place,” Chris announces. 

What?

My brows furrow, my face scrunching as I watch Beck relax the flag back down to her side. “Make it quick.” 

Chris nods at her words, my stomach flutters as he stares directly back at me, leaning his head out his window while licking over his lips. “Wanna make a bet, sweetheart?” he asks. 

I look around me, my shoulder sinking slightly as I take in the amount of people staring at me. 

He’s holding up the race to embarass me. Fuck. 

As I stare back at him with squinted eyes, he clicks his tongue on the side of his mouth. “If I win, I get to take you for a drive. Deal?”

“What?” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air as I motion to the bet table, “Why the hell would I agree to that—”

“You bet against me, remember?” he points. 

My lips smack shut, the lump in my throat gathering thicker as I try to swallow. “I’ll even give you the chance to make sure I lose a round. We gotta bet or not?” he questions, his eyes twinkling as the blue lights illuminate his sharp features.  

If he had to lose one of the three rounds, that put more hope into the other racer. And if the other race won, I’d be more than content. Getting to call him a loser would definitely irk him more than anything—especially if it was true.

I hear boos chant around me. “Hurry up and race!” someone says from behind me. 

My body stiffens as I hear the chorus of disapproval. “Deal!” I shout, biting on my inner cheek. 

Chris looks at me with a daunting grin, his hand squeezing on the wheel as he nods. “A’right—ready. Sorry for the hold up.” 

Beck rolls her eyes, holding up the flag once more. 

“Racers ready?” she glares at Chris, continuing on as he revs his engine in response, “3—2—-1, GO—”

My heart drops as I watch the smoke from the tires scratching the street float around Beck. She saunters over, settling beside me as I lean forward, my pulse pounding in my ears as I watch them race side-by-side. 

As the car rounds the corner and starts nearing the finish line, Chris’s car zooms just slightly in front of the other vehicle, only seconds of a difference. 

I can’t wait to call him a fuckin loser. 

Beck walks back out, the flag raising in the air as both cars position once again. “Alright, race two. Ready, set—” 

“Hey!” 

Stomping her heels on the pavement, Beck scowls at Chris as he shouts towards my direction. I look over, my face burning as I feel the crowd stare down at me. 

I didn’t know much about racing, but I knew enough. This wasn’t normal—this was the prime way to piss people off. 

As I go to ask what he wants, Chris curls his finger, motioning for me to come closer. 

The fuck? 

I hesitantly stand up, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso as I walk up to his car window. Chris stares up at me with devious eyes. He obnoxiously chews a piece of gum, his jaw bone protruding with each movement. 

“What the fuck do you want?!” I whisper-yell, catching angry eyes boring onto me as I take a quick glance over my shoulder. 

Oh, these people are mad—fucking furious, even. 

“Kiss me.” 

I do a double take, my eyes blinky slowly as I watch him lick over the bottom ridges of his teeth, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“What?” I breathe out, a dry laugh heaving from my lips. 

He can’t be serious…

“However long you kiss me is however long I’ll wait to start drivin’. Didn’t you want me to lose? C’mon pretty girl, you saw the bet table—use your head, alright? It’s just a kiss,” he taunts.

This is how he was gonna give me the chance to make him lose a round—I should’ve known. 

I shake my head, cringing as I hear the boo’s from the crowd get louder. 

“I’m startin’,” Beck says, holding up the flag. “3—”

“Yes or no? It’s up to you,” he shrugs, his eyes drawing over my face as my lips smack open and shut. 

“2—”

The noise of his engine revving makes my anxiety settle. This is my chance—my only chance at that. 

“Fuck it,” I murmur, taking a long stride towards him. 

“1—GO!” 

I crash my lips onto his, my hands on either side of his jaw. His lips meet mine with a hard urgency, the rhythm of my movement panicked and rushed. 

My breath hitches in my chest—I don’t know if it’s because I forgot to breathe or if it’s from the feeling of his hand traveling up and tangling around the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as he slips his warm tongue into my mouth. 

I nearly forget everything, gasping for air as I pull back quickly, moaning as I feel his mouth hungrily chase mine. 

Never in my life had I been kissed like this—so passionately and rough. 

“Hey! This gotta be breakin’ some rules–”

Fuck. 

The person yelling from the crow makes me pull back into reality. I stand up, watching as Chris slowly flutters his eyes open at me with a grin so cocky my hand twitches with the urge to slap him. 

Why did that feel so… good? 

Before anyone can say a thing, the other car slowly halts back to the starting line. 

Had we really been kissing that long? 

My fingers mindlessly float up to my tingling lips, my head feeling lighter as the surroundings start to spin a bit. It’s like he put some drug in his mouth that immediately became addicting. I want more. 

“See? I kept my word,” Chris points out, “Now—you gonna keep your word if I win? Lemme take you for a drive?” I swallow thickly, nodding slowly. “Good. Now go sit down and cheer for me real loud, alright?” 

I don’t have time to respond before Beck interrupts with the same question, starting to count down. I quickly stumble back towards the bleachers, a sigh of relief pushing through my lips as my head bobbles between my shoulders while I sit down. 

The loud cars barely register in my brain. All I can focus on is how light everything feels, how my lips are swollen and pulsing. 

“C’MON!!!” 

Chants behind me draw my attention back to the road. What the fuck? It’s not even close—Chris is speeding around the corners way smoother than the first round, almost as if he had been—

Oh fuck.

He was holding back. 

I tried to mess with him and he played me with ease. 

Part of me should be mad as he races near the finish line—but all I feel is excitement—anticipation. 

My teeth clench into my lower lip as I watch him storm past the line, not even waiting for the other racer to finish before stepping out of his car and walking over. 

Is he…?

My eyes bulge as he walks in front of me, holding his hand out as an offer. “C’mon, you promised, yeah?” he urges. 

I nod slowly, sliding my hand in his. He drags me to his car, opening the passenger door and shutting it after I climb in. 

“Chris! The money—”

Beck’s words fall on deaf ears as Chris slides into the driver seat, pressing his foot on the gas hard. 

“You didn’t even get the money—what’re we doing?” I ask, looking behind my shoulder to see a crowd of people turned to our direction as we speed off further down the road. 

“You know, it’s not nice to try and tick me off,” he huffs, quickly glancing at me with a harsh stare. 

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ abou–”

Chris lets out a vocal sound of disbelief, cutting me off, “Yeah, you do. Fuckin—bettin’ against me, tryna get me to lose and shit. For what? Don’t have a boyfriend to give you any attention, huh?” he asks, his hand reaching over and grasping onto my thigh. 

He knows I don’t have a boyfriend—I know he’s aware of that fact. 

I stare down at his large hand squeezing my jean-clad leg. Something about his rough grip makes me shift in my seat, my thighs clutching together as I feel a wave of warmth settle into the pit of my stomach. 

“You like my hand on your thigh, don’t you?” he says, smirking wider as I watch the blue streetlights cast a subtle glow on his cheekbones. 

“I—”

“You like it. Admit it.” 

There’s no room to argue as he trails his hand up further, his fingers tracing dangerously high as he gives me a rough squeeze. Fuck his hands feel good on me. 

“Chris what’re you—”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly see you and know I can’t touch you?” he starts, the car rolling to a stop by the side of the road as he rushedly shifts gears to park, “-you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me—bein’ a damn brat and I have to keep my hands to myself,” he grits, shaking his head as he stares down at me. 

I swallow thickly as I shift in the seat. “Chris, I–”

“No. None of that bullshit. You’re always tauntin’ me. Why’d you stay, hm? Why?” he questions, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth as his eyes deepen with intensity and dominance. 

Silence. I can’t fathom any words to say, my pulse drumming quicker as Chris pats his lap, adjusting his chair back. 

“Over here. Now.” 

“Chris, what are we doing?” I ask, hesitantly starting to climb over the center console. 

His hands wrap around the underside of my thighs, pulling me quickly while I let out a slight yelp as he sits me down in his lap. His hands are firm on either side of my hips. “I’m done playin’ these stupid fuckin’ games. I just—” 

The air is quiet. His eyes fall to my lips, his hands grasping just a little bit tighter around me. I can still feel the lingering sensation from his lips on mine earlier, the slight tingle still buzzing on the soft muscle as I let myself lean in closer. 

“We should stop,” Chris breathes, his tongue sliding between his lips as his eyes flicker up towards mine. 

“Why?” 

The question rolls off my lips with ease, my palms flattening against his chest as I lower my mouth to his neck, breathing over his pulse. 

“Because–” He lets out a hiss. I place my lips on his neck, sucking gently as I massage my hand over his shoulder. “Shit—we gotta stop, baby—this, this–” His jaw goes slack as I find his sweet spot. His hands dig into my hips, the slight bulge growing beneath me making my lips curl into a smile as I gently grind myself on top of him. 

“Why do you wanna stop, Chris?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of his ear, “What’s got you so tongue-tied, hm?” 

“You’re killin’ me,” he points, his gaze trained on me as he tangles his hand through my hair, pulling me back just enough to look at him, “-fuckin’ so annoying, so pretty and horrible, I just—I don’t know how much I can hold back–”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my hand gathering the material of his shirt in a fist as I watch him bite on his lower lip. His eyes trace over my face, one of his hands slowly tracing underneath my shirt, callusing beneath my bra. 

“Yeah? Don’t want me to hold back, hm?” he remarks, his hips adjusting in the slightest, my mouth falling open as I feel him rut against me through the fabric of our clothes. 

Fuck. I can’t take this. 

I lean forward, crashing my lips against his once more. Chris hums into my mouth. He furiously helps me peel off the bulky letterman jacket, the cold air feeling like relief compared to my burning skin. 

“Holy fuck, slow down, baby,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips as I shameless grind myself against his hard bulge. But I can’t get enough. “-’m not going anywhere—gonna stay and make you feel so good. Promise.” 

My heart drops as I feel his hand delicately caress over the purple lace covering my breasts. His nimble fingers trace around my hardened nub, a slight moan falling through my lips as I feel him smirk against me. 

“Take those cute jeans off, c’mon. Be a good girl for me—just this once, alright?” he grins. 

I nod slowly, awkwardly shifting as I pull down the denim while kicking off my shoes. Chris gets impatient, yanking the clothing to his own accord before planting me back on his lap, his jacket now discarded. 

“Holy fuck, look at these legs—would look so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, brushing my hair to the side as his lips graze my neck, “-while I fuck you deep and hard.” 

Oh my god. 

My mind is numb, every inch of my skin pulsing with a hot sensation of greed. Chris stares at me with lust, his hand moving in the corner of my eye. “Want me to touch you? Right….here,” he breathes, the pad of his finger resting directly over my bundle of nerves. 

I nod slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes as he starts to slowly circle the digit with a light, feathery touch. 

“More,” I moan, pulling his shirt into my fists as I watch him smile at me. 

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Want my big dick in you? Want me to stretch you out and make you cum over and ov—

“Please,” I whisper, my hips moving for me as I struggle to stay still. 

Chris looks down, gesturing for me to take control. I hesitantly fumble with his jeans, pulling out his hard length as my mouth starts to water. 

Fuck. He’s big. No—he’s huge. 

As I go to pull my underwear to the side, Chris stops me, placing his hand around my wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “-take ‘em all the way off—wanna see all of you when I fuck your guts.” 

My thighs tense from his words, my hands quickly sliding the fabric down my thighs and discarding them without a single care. Chris pets over the top of my thighs, his eyes hungrily staring down between my legs. “Fuck—are you sure you want this? I…god, I can’t believe this is happening…”

I grab his hardness in my hand, spitting and dragging the lubricant up and down his shaft. Chris grits his teeth. His hands pinching into my sides as he lets out a deep groan. “You’re so big,” I whisper, mostly talking to myself. 

My eyes bulge as I feel Chris lift me with his hands on either side of my waist, placing me so my dripping entrance is directly aligned with his tip. His eyes bore into mine with dark passion. His jaw tense as he leans forward, kissing along my neck. 

“You gonna take it all f’me?” he dares, massaging my sides but keeping me from sinking down onto him. 

“Chris, please–”

“Gotta promise to take it all, sweetheart. Been teasin’ me all day already, I don’t need anymore of that, alright? Just—just gotta promise to let me stuff you full,” he purrs, sucking on the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear. 

“I promise, just—mmphf—” He slowly loosens his grip, letting me lower myself. I feel his tip nudge past my entrance, the stretch of his size making my body tense as my legs tighten to a halt. 

“Thaatt’s it, doin’ so good, just—just relax,” he praises, brushing my hair behind my ear, “-gotta be a good girl and keep your word again, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, slowly starting to take more of him. A broken cry falling through my lips as I feel my body stiffen again. 

Chris is patient. His eyes are trained on my face as his hands massage over my body. “You got it, c’mon—just—holy fuck,” his hand lingers down to my stomach, my top so messed up that it’s bunched over my breasts. He’s not just admiring the skin, he’s worshipping the bulge—the distinct imprint of him inside of me as I hover over the last bit of his length. 

“Look at that, sweetheart, I mean—fuck—” 

I shriek as I feel him lift his hips upward, burying himself inside of me completely. My hands grasp onto his shoulders, my eyes teary as I watch him bite on his lower lip. “God—such a good girl, takin’ me so good,” he compliments, slowly helping me as I start to ride him. 

I feel him reach deep inside of me, my eyes staring up at the ceiling of the car while my body tenses with a wave of pleasure collapsing over every beating pulse of my skin. This is even better than that damn kiss. I’ve never felt like this before. Not ever. It’s like an adrenaline rush, so overbearingly good that it feels addicting.  

“How’s that, baby, hm?” he hums, smiling down at the sight of his length plunging into my guts with each thrust as my movements quicken. 

“I–it’s, I—” 

What the fuck was I saying? 

Everything feels so light, so impossible. 

“That’s it, fuckkkkk—look so good ridin’ me like this, keep—-shit!” he seethes. My walls tighten around him, my nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt as he lifts his hips to meet my movements.

His lips parted with pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, I,” My words are cut off my a moan. 

Chris laughs dryly, his grip becoming tighten as he really puts in the work—using me like a ragdoll as he furiously fucks himself into me. “Mmmm, th-ere,” he rasps, smiling as I let out small shrieks and moans between each snap of his hips. 

He’s so deep. I’d never felt this good in my life. There’s a buzzing in my ears, spots in my vision as I feel my body ruthlessly convulse with the overwhelming sensations. 

How the fuck is he so deep?

How the hell is he hitting against the perfect spot over and over and over—

“You cumming already?” 

His question pulls me back to reality. I nod dumbly, my mouth drawing open as I let out a long moan, my thighs quivering as I rock myself against his movement. 

“Oh—I—”

“My name, sweetheart, wanna hear my–my name, c’mon,” he urges, the squelches getting louder as I feel my body burn with euphoria. 

“Chris, Chris, I–I—my god,” I cry out, my hips slowly rolling to a stop as I feel him pause his motions. 

I don’t have time to react—nor to recover. I feel Chris hold me tightly, flipping me over so my back hits the seat—his cock brutal as he drills himself inside of me. 

“Take it, fuckin—fuckin’ take it,” he chants. 

My hands scramble into his hair. I pull his face into my neck, letting my teeth sink into his shoulder. Every rut of his hips leaves me breathless, my body seizing as I feel his hardness drive into me over and over again while his pelvis slaps against my clit. 

“I’m gonn—”

“Wait. Wait for me, I’m—’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close—”

I clench around him, the buildup becoming too much as he continues to drown every inch of my body with pleasure. His desperate tone lingers in the air, his breaths shaking as his hips lose slight momentum. 

“Wher–-where do you—”

“In-inside, please, just—just let me cum,” I plea. 

Chris huffs, his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow deeper. “Cu-cum with me, I—shittttttttt, so fuckin’ good, so… so fuckin’ good,” he seethes, a warm sensation flooding inside of me as I feel my body convulse once more. 

My limbs fall lifelessly. Our motions fall lazier, eventually pausing to a halt. Chris gently removes himself, pulling me into his arms tightly and positioning back into the seat with me on his lap. 

His hand finds the back of my head as I lean onto his shoulder, petting through my hair as we both try to catch our breath. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. I let out a light laugh, flinching as I feel my stomach burn from soreness. “You good there?” he asks. 

Nodding into the crook of his neck, I lift myself to stare at him once more. My eyes trace from his sweat ridden face, seeing a clear imprint of his hand on the fogged-up car window. My nose crinkles as I inhale deeply. “It smells like sex, I’m sorry,” I let out. 

Chris stares at me incredulously. “Sorry? That was fuckin’ perfect—better than the money if you ask me. I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself anymore,” he teases, flashing me a grin as he combs my hair behind my ear. 

My lips curl with excitement. “Oh really? You like takin’ me for rides?” 

He nods firmly, biting on his lower lip. “Mhm. And you seemed to really like ridin’.” 

I let out a light laugh, shrugging my shoulders before ruffling his hair playfully. “Only with you.”

Chris cocks an eyebrow at me, “Only me, huh?” I nod shyly, letting out a brief hum. His eyes linger on mine before falling back to my lips. “You do ride good. Maybe you should be the racer,” he taunts. 

“Maybe,” I whisper, “-maybe…” 

“Let’s get you back in those cute jeans though, yeah?” 

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Nadezh' Interview

Summary: After Nadezh previous identity as the Firebreather, notorious Supervillain, was revealed, she thought she’d lose everything. She’s never been so happy to be wrong.

You can read Nadezh' first story (HERE)

--------------------------.

It’s decided that Nadezh will work in the finance department of Hero Force. She hates to leave her civilian job and her coworkers seeing the success of her budget fully bloom, but the other option is wearing the power suppressors 24/7, and their power frequency vibrates through her engagement ring in a way that reminds her of a bee buzzing, and she won’t take the ring off so.

The interview is a formality but they make her do it anyway. She prepares for it over the course of seven days, making Gannon rehearse every hypothetical question with her until the last minute.

Until the last minute meaning on the drive to Hero Force for the interview.

“There is a discrepancy in the packaging budget,” Gannon reads. He’s used to her driving and doesn’t flinch when she merges too quickly, and a chorus of Chicago drivers chastise her loudly. “There is a flat rate for three different sizes of package. According to the average order value and average product mix, packaging should be $3.5k—Nadezh, Hero Force doesn’t have a commerce division, I don’t think this is necessary.”

Nadezh knows the rest of this question. What steps would you take to reconcile actual and planned? “Of course, there’s the option to conduct a forensic audit, however—”

“We do have a forensic finance department,” Gannon concedes, “but that’s not—”

“—first would be to observe the whole packaging process. While there is a flat rate for all three package sizes that doesn’t mean all orders are being packaged for efficiency—”

Gannon reaches for her knee, thinks better of it, considering her foot on the gas pedal, and diverts to her shoulder. He squeezes, and all of the tension in her back magically eases. “Babe. You’re already overqualified. You’re going to do great.”

They’ve already had this argument, so Nadezh doesn’t say Overqualified? It’s amazing they’re even letting me into a Hero Force building, I could be the President and I still wouldn’t be qualified considering my past. Instead, she says, “Right. Right, thanks. You’re right. Right.”

“Right,” Gannon says seriously.

“Right,” she says and takes the next exit.

“Riiiiiiight.”

By the time they pull into the parking garage, Nadezh is laughing at the increasingly bizarre ways Gannon says the word right. The word barely has meaning anymore, and she’s fairly certain that if anyone else heard Hero Zone sounding so goat-like, they’d send him to psych for an evaluation.

Nadezh gets out of the car first, hurrying before he can say anything else that will set her off.

“Go save the day,” she says. Her face hurts from smiling. She tosses him the keys over the roof of the car after she closes the door. “I can get the train back.”

Gannon rounds the bumper and presses them back into her hand. He kisses her forehead. “No public transport from HQ.”

She blinks, the spot his lips touched tingling. “Is that a rule?”

“Our house rule,” Gannon says. He smiles reassuringly at her. “Just a precaution. I know too many people who get made getting followed out of HQ.”

Gannon always explains himself even though she never asks. Her heart is racing at our house rules. They have house rules. They’re engaged. They’re going to get married. She lifts her chin for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses her.

Kissing Gannon is the closest she feels to her powers these days. The warmth that runs through her, the heat in her cheeks, the pounding of her heart – actually she takes it back. It’s not like her power at all. It’s better than her power.

“Break it up!” a man calls from across the parking garage.

Electricity shoots through Nadezh. She didn’t hear him come up behind her. She tries to pull away from Gannon, to turn and protect them, but his hands on her shoulders stop her. Her brain catches up a moment later. Gannon is relaxed, warm brown eyes still happy. The voice is familiar.

“It’s not goodbye yet,” another voice says grumpily. This time Nadezh recognizes the speaker. When her tension eases, Gannon lifts his hands long enough for her to turn and greet Flare. He drapes his arms over Nadezh’s shoulders. Flare’s eye twitches. “There’s, like, a whole elevator ride to go.”

“There’s cameras in the elevator,” Gannon says.

Nadezh still doesn’t know what to make of Gannon’s Hero team. Omit – the leader of the team – is decent. Fast, sound decisions on the field, always knows when to retreat, which is important when your team is made of B and C-rank heroes.  His power – to eliminate an object from the enemy’s perception during battle – makes her uneasy. Despite his openness with her, she can’t erase the suspicion that he’s using his powers on her from her mind.

She likes Flare. The woman is bright and bubbly, almost six inches shorter than Nadezh, with all the energy of a hummingbird. Though she’s stationed on Gannon’s team, she’s in high demand across the city. There aren’t many fliers out there, and although her dragonfly wings aren’t exactly subtle, she’s fast enough and strong enough to conduct recon across Lake Michigan. Flare keeps Gannon safe when he’s out saving the world. Nobody sneaks up on them with her around.

Mostly.

“Us singles are feeling left out,” Omit says and tries to drape an arm over Flare’s shoulders.

Flare flits away. “Interview today?” she asks Nadezh.

“Right,” Nadezh says.

Gannon’s burst of surprised laughter lasts all the way to Nadezh’s floor where he waves goodbye breathlessly.

Even with his mask obstructing the crow’s feet she loves, Nadezh savors the memory of his joy all the way to her interview.

----.

Agent Briston isn’t like any other agent Nadezh has ever seen. He’s in his sixties, round, bald, and wearing a sweater vest under his regulation suit jacket. She thinks there’s a reason agents like him are kept out of sight. He looks like an easy target—no. She doesn’t think about people as targets anymore. She means that he looks like the grandfather in a commercial about watches, the one who takes the vintage watch off of his own wrist to wrap it around the grandson’s with an air of gravity.

“This interview isn’t a guarantee, despite your…recommendations,” Agent Briston says the moment Nadezh sits down. His desk has nothing but a computer, a notepad, and a pen. Somehow the harried look on his face makes it seem cluttered with paper. “We don’t have the budget for many staff. We need to be selective.”

Nadezh resists the urge to pull at the Hero Force regulation mask on her face or the power suppressors around her wrists. Part of her agreement with Foresight was that she’d wear the cuffs whenever Gannon wasn’t with her. The blue glow feels ostentatious, and she hopes Agent Briston won’t turn her down based on them. “Understood, sir.”

“Briston,” Agent Briston says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Only the heroes call me sir. My staff calls me Briston.”

Nadezh nods. “I’m Nadezh Mel—”

“No last names, Nadezh,” Briston says. He pulls his glasses from a desk drawer and puts them on. He squints at his computer. “Now. Tell me.  Do you have accounting experience?”

“Yes, si—Briston.”

Briston’s thick white eyebrows raise and he abandons his computer to focus back on Nadezh. He seems skeptical. “Really?”

“I created the office budget for my last company,” Nadezh says. She has a better way to say this, she rehearsed this with Gannon— “My plan allowed for the purchase of new chairs and a copier.”

Briston stares at her. “You really have accounting experience.”

Did he not hear her? Or did she answer incorrectly? “I-I was also part of the team that allocated reinvestment funds—”

“Foresight’s recruits never have accounting experience.”

“—and payroll for over 500 employees—”

“Payroll!” Briston looks up at the ceiling. “She does payroll!”

“I—I’m sorry?” she says. She can’t read his tone. Is he disappointed or being sarcastic? She scrambles for her next interview answer. “I have a bachelor’s in accounting from Illinois State, but I plan to complete my master’s in the next five years—”

Briston makes a sound she’s only ever heard from frightened raccoons. “You’re hired,” Briston declares. He reaches over the desk to shake her hand. “I’ll draw up a counteroffer before noon.”

Confused, Nadezh shakes his hand. His grip is surprisingly strong. “Sir? The terms of my employment should already be in my file.” Foresight had made it clear she’d be starting at the bottom level of the pay scale.

“We aren’t paying my new director that,” Briston says. “We’ll start double that and see what they counter offer.”

“They? Aren’t you in charge of salary approvals?” Nadezh asks. Then, as his words sink in, “Director?!”

Briston beams at her. “Experience, a degree, and common sense! We’ll settle for 30% higher than the initial offer with a condition for an additional 10% at the next performance review.”

“Director,” Nadezh says. When Briston doesn’t answer, ignoring her in favor of typing feverishly, Nadesh says with surety, “You’re joking.”

Briston hums and doesn’t answer her.

“Right?”

----.

Briston isn’t joking.

Gannon takes a dazed Nadezh out for dinner and drinks to celebrate. The private room he reserves is in the back of a Japanese restaurant run by a former Superhero. There are flowers on the table, candles strategically placed around the room, soundproofing on the walls, and a chilled bottle of Nadezh's favorite white wine waiting. She processes all of this distantly. She makes Gannon read her employment contract between bites of sushi. Bemused, he dutifully announces her employed status and starting salary whenever she asks.

“Guess I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors about the department head,” Gannon says. Rather than surprised, his voice carries an element of relief. “You’re barely taking a salary cut with this.”

“Cut? This is a ten percent raise,” Nadezh hisses. She stares at her green tea. “Does Foresight know?” A jolt of sick fear floods with her. “I didn’t make Briston give me a raise, I swear!”

“Nadezh, of course you didn’t,” Gannon says. He reaches across the table to nudge at her clenched hands. Automatically, she unfurls them to reveal half-moon indents from her nails. He slides his palm against hers. “You deserve this.”

“But Foresight might think—”

“He won’t.” Gannon picks up his chopsticks with his left hand, content to let his right keep holding hers so that her dominant hand is free. He’s clumsier with them and frowns as he chases salmon roe around his plate. “Briston has almost unilateral say in the finance department. Nobody can sway him. He’s known for being short-tempered, cheap, and stubborn. I’m sure Foresight will just be grateful he finally hired someone.”

Nadezh narrows her eyes. “You said you didn’t know the person interviewing me.”

“Oops?” Gannon finally catches the salmon roe under a bite of rice and pops it in his mouth. He chews innocently. “Did I?”

“Fess up.”

“It’s not like I know a lot. People say Briston fires more than he hires.” Gannon’s eyes shift to the side.  “Aaaand that he can be heard yelling whenever it’s time to calculate overtime expenses. Or whenever the armory submits their expense report. Or when the audit team comes back with city damage claims. Or when—”

Nadezh drops her head into her free hand, letting her long black hair hide her for a moment. She forgot that Hero Force accountants dealt with destroyed skyscrapers and medical leave for when you got your arms ripped off in a fight, not copiers and desk chairs. “You didn’t think to mention any of this before the interview?!”

“You were freaked out enough.” Gannon pauses in the way he does when he’s about to say what he’s really thinking so Nadezh doesn’t interrupt. She waits as he chews until he finally says, “I’m glad he bumped your salary. I was starting to feel guilty.”

Nadezh’s hand spasms around Gannon’s. “Guilty?”

“Yeah,” Gannon says. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I argued against making you leave your job. Said it made Hero Force the sort of organization everyone always accuses us of being. Overreaching and, well…cruel.”

“You didn’t tell me about that either.” Had he been thinking that this whole time? While she made him practice interview questions with her? Did he think she was forcing herself? The thought of Gannon feeling even a tenth of the gnawing guilt that lives inside her makes her want to throw up. Nadezh shakes her head and leans across the table. She’s glad for the private room and how it allows her to show him how his words affect her. “Babe, you don’t have anything—"

“I know how hard you worked for that job,” Gannon interrupts. He licks his lips. Now it’s his turn to stare at his tea. “Please, just…listen.”

Nadezh would do anything Gannon asked. She squeezes his hand again and fights the words bubbling up her throat like lava.

“We haven’t really talked since that day,” Gannon says. He’s a Hero; he makes himself look into her eyes. “I haven’t really talked. I’ve been afraid to. I know your past isn’t…isn’t good. I do. And I know that you don’t want to forget about it or pretend it doesn’t exist.”

She wants to, but she can’t. Like hunger and emptiness, she doesn’t think Gannon will ever understand the weight she carries from the harm she’s done. The screams she’d once reveled in now haunt her in ways she could never have guessed. But he’s talking to her, so she doesn’t explain. She listens.

“I feel like I’ve been making you give up everything for me,” Gannon confesses in a rush. He speaks faster as her eyes widen, like if he makes his sentences a big enough river, she won’t be able to dam it up. “Your first civilian job, your past, and your freedom to do whatever you want to do – because you could do anything, you really could – and even your powers.” He rubs his thumb over the underside of her wrist where the power suppressors sit during working hours. His face crumples. “Every morning, I will have to take you to put them on. It’s…I hate it. It feels like I’m abandoning you, or like I’m part of your punishment, or like I’m not being the partner you deserve.”

She starts, half rising from her seat. “Gannon! How could you—?”

His grip is strong on her hand, and he gestures for her to sit with a quick jerk of his chin. His eyes close tight. “Please, Nadezh.”

She quiets.

It takes him a long time to start speaking again. He remains quiet until he’s able to look her in the eyes again. “You…that day. The day you saved my and my team’s life.”

The day she thought her fairytale had come to an end. Even now, the memory of his blank eyes as she revealed the red and gold costume of the Firebreather, one of the world’s most notorious and deadly supervillains, follows her. The cold wind whipping across the ship’s deck, the pillars of ice gleaming in the sun, his team haltingly asking her if she was going to take over the boat…and his eyes. The pain that ripped through her when she realized she would lose him was worse than anything she’d ever experienced. It had made her realize that she’d been a shell for years until she met him, that she’d been nothing until he showed her a world where she could be someone. In that moment, she’d known that she’d wasted his time on a dead end. That their dream to get married would never be the same if it happened at all and she had robbed him in her greed.

But he remembers it as the day she saved his life rather than dooming his future.

“I became a hero to save people,” Gannon says. His lips thin. “How did I put it? That day at the diner? To share the relief of having the day saved.” His face twists in a way she can’t understand. “You must have thought I was so naïve.”

“No,” she says simply.

He raises their hands so he can kiss the back of hers. “Thank you. I think I was naïve. Being a hero seemed simple, looking at the world that way, like everyone wanted to be saved and, in turn, wanted to one day go on to save someone else. Every moment of salvation would get repaid. Good things would always happen to good people.”

Well, when he put it like that.

Gannon continues, “But when I saw you standing there, dressed as the Firebreather, being saved was…different. It was all different.” He swallows hard. “For the first time, I realized saving the day wasn’t so simple. You had to reveal your identity to do it. You had to put your freedom and everything you worked for on the sidelines. Even us. You were ready to do it even if it meant we never got the chance to be married. I could tell that you weren’t going to let that stop you. You were going to save the day.  Instead of being relieved, I felt afraid.”

A small noise of protest builds in Nadezh’s throat. “Afraid of me?”

“No!” Gannon’s eyes widen and he leans over the table. “No, never. Never, Nadezh. Even when that last fireball singed the toes of my boots, I didn’t flinch for a moment. I knew you would never hurt me.”

Nadezh’s laugh is watery. “So that’s why you threw out those boots.”

“Regulation is closed toe,” Gannon says gravely. He plays with her fingers. “I was afraid because I realized there was a cost that I wasn’t willing to pay, but you were.”

“I couldn’t let you die,” Nadezh says.

“I know.” Gannon clears his throat and adjusts his grip on her hand so that he can feel her pulse against his thumb. “I know. I’m not saying that’s wrong.  Just…it was hard, wasn’t it?” His brown eyes search hers. “You knew before you even left the apartment to find me that you were going to lose everything.”

“But I didn’t,” Nadezh points out.

“But that’s what you thought.”

She can’t deny that.

“Saving the day is easy when it’s just a job,” Gannon says. “That day, I realized that I’d never really been a hero. It was a job, an important one, but not one that was going to take anything I wasn’t willing to give. That same job was the reason I let myself just stand there as Hero Force took you into custody. Like a coward. I hate myself for that moment.” His voice is raw with the admission. His free hand curls into a fist. “I should have run with you then.”

Nadezh barks a disbelieving laugh. It’s inappropriate, but the idea of Hero Zone, the most honorable hero in Chicago, running away with a supervillain is ridiculous. She hides her incredulity. “That’s—”

“I’m serious, Nadezh.” Gannon’s eyes burn through her, gaze unflinching. Her pulse jumps under his thumb. “I still think that. We could run now. Settle down somewhere and be civilians. Never show up on Hero Force radar again. Like Bonnie and Clyde hiding out from the law.”

“That’s not funny.” Try as she might, Nadezh can’t find any trace of humor on Gannon’s face. Her eyes dart around the room. When she can’t find any cameras, she leans forward and hisses, “Don’t even joke about that. You love being a hero.”

“I love being with you,” Gannon says. This time when he smiles the mole under his eye disappears with the force of it. “I told you, all I want is to marry you. No job will ever be worth more than that. So…” His smile wavers for a moment before he fixes it in place. “What do you say? Will you run away with me?”

Fuck. Her mind leaps ahead. They could get a place in the mountains. She knows how much Gannon misses his hometown on the East Coast. His family has long since disappeared from those ridges and valleys, but she can see him there, facing the sun with his arms held over his head in triumph. A field sprawled out below him blooms with green and a house sits just beyond that with a gently smoking chimney. Could she belong there too? With him?

Gannon mistakes her silence. “You wouldn’t have to wear the power suppressors ever again or worry about Briston yelling or what Hero Force will make you do. It could be just you and me like we always imagined. Together.”

Is he pleading with her? Begging her to say yes?

There will always be a part of her that wants to. The greedy and selfish part that wants to keep him all to herself, like the doll in her childhood that unraveled at the seams after only a month. The part of her that could hide him away is familiar. Too familiar.

“No.”

Gannon’s face falls. “No?”

“Not because I don’t want us,” she assures. Somehow, she feels lighter. Is this what’s been sitting silently between them this whole time? She could laugh. “I do. But I think you’re misunderstanding something. You’re not the reason why I’m cooperating with Hero Force.” She thinks over her words and then rephrases. “You’re not the only reason.”

“I’m not?” Gannon backtracks. “I mean, it’s not a problem if I’m not, but I thought…well. I thought given what you said in the interrogation room…”

“You will always be the love of my life,” Nadezh says. She finds the words as she says them. She’s had a lot of time to think about this – Gannon is not the first one to think what it’d be like to run away. “That will never change. It’s just…” Private room, she reminds herself. No one will be able to hear. She confesses, “I want to change. I don’t want to be the Firebreather anymore.”

“You’re not!”

Keep him, no one can stop you, power suppressors barely work once we really get up to temperature—Nadezh stops those thoughts firmly in their tracks. “There are parts of me that still are. I was afraid when I revealed who I was, but since then look how far I’ve come. You know all of me and you’re still here.” She lets her wonder and hope leak into her voice. Some mornings she wakes up to him by her side and can’t fathom how the universe let someone with hands as stained as hers have something so good. “I have a job. I have a way to give back for all the harm I caused. I…I think confronting my past has given me a chance to grow like I haven’t done before. A year ago, I couldn’t even accept the proposal from the man I love more than life itself. Now? I know that I can walk into work every day and have those power suppressors put on me by Hero Force -not you - and I can hold my head high.”

“Not me? Nadezh, I’m your containment,” Gannon says. His expression is tortured in the candlelight. “You say it’s Hero Force, but it’s me. I’m the one holding you back. Foresight said that Firebreather was sufficiently contained by my side, he awarded me custody—”

“Are you feeling guilty over that?” Nadezh’s mouth drops open. “Gannon, seriously?”

“I feel like I’m choosing to be your captor over being your fiancé,” Gannon says.

“Just like how you knew I would never hurt you, I know you would never hurt me. I wouldn’t even have to use my powers. I know the second I didn’t want to put those cuffs on, you wouldn’t.”

“I’m still—”

“No.” Nadezh won’t allow any room for confusion here. “Gannon. Stop. I am the one choosing to do this. That day I gave you a choice, remember? I said that you could walk away and I would be—” fine is a strong word “—I would understand. I was going to keep the memory of us agreeing to get married and let you walk away.”

There’s gravel in Gannon’s voice. He reaches across the table to capture her other hand. “I would never change my mind.”

“I believe you.” He was patient with her, waiting for her to believe it. She holds his hands back. “I believe you. So here’s what I’m asking. You gave me a choice just now. Stay or run away. Please believe me when I say I want to stay.”

“Even if it means I have to be your captor?” he asks, anguished.

She nearly snaps at the question. Isn’t he listening to what she’s saying? His tone stills her. She studies him. His eyes are teary, and she can feel his hands tremble in hers. “This really bothers you.”

He nods wordlessly.

She tries to put herself in his shoes. She imagines that he’s working as a henchman who used to be a hero. She imagines putting cuffs on him before work every day, knowing that he’d be helpless if the Villain ever decided to turn on him—She winces. “Maybe we can ask Omit to put on the cuffs instead?”

“I…we could try that,” Gannon says after a long moment. He breathes in through his nose. Out through his mouth. In through his nose. Then, “I really ruined this celebration dinner, huh?”

She snorts. Both of their eyes are red and swollen despite neither of them crying. “This is about how most of my celebration dinners have gone. Better, actually. Nobody is screaming and nothing’s on fire.”

“Yet,” Gannon says.

“See? There’s still hope.” They’ve been talking for so long that her wine is warm. She grimaces as she swallows. “Hey, captor? I think it’s time you took me to a secondary location.”

“That’s not funny.” Despite his words, Gannon’s lips twitch as he stands and pushes in his chair. “I’m really upset about that.”

Nadezh follows him to the door. She caresses his shoulder, ostensibly checking him for dust, but really needing the contact. “Should I comfort you?”

Gannon drops back to put his arm around her shoulders. “Hmmm, keep talking.”

“I think I have Stockholm syndrome—”

“I change my mind. No more talking.”

Nadezh laughs. “Riiiight.”

It’s not perfect. Nadezh knows that the conversation isn’t over. There’s a guardedness in Gannon she’s never seen before when talking about Hero Force. He doesn’t believe her, not yet. But that’s okay.

She’ll be around to convince him.

(Except for 9am-5pm Monday through Friday. She somehow doesn’t think Briston would take kindly to a hero responsible for flooding the docks every other week hanging around the office.)

----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me and what I do, please consider checking out my Patreon where I post all sorts of pieces earlier than I do on Tumblr!

Next week I have the continuation of my Cinderella retelling going up there first and then here later in March. You can read Cinderella here (Tumblr X) (PatreonX)

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[thebearme]

Hopefully this will be a good masterpost for Dogman's parents-

Joe is to the right, the brown and black shepherd. While Maggie is to the left, the mountain dog with the furry flopping ears- Remember that now!

They work with their owner Moe in his retirement home for restless sheep. Where sheep can live it rough outside in the mountains without the worry of getting eaten ... or overheating in their coats.

There was a routine, Wooly eye Moe will feed and shave the sheeps. Maggie will walk and watch them around the hills in the day, while Joe gets the night shift. It was a pretty steady routine that they followed...

Until they become parents-

They were okay with the pups until the responsibly of rising these pups began to show a negligence in caring for the sheep. So this later led to putting them for adoption,

Funny enough, that was the day Chief's mom drove him and Knight to the ranch. She came there for the extra wooly yarn that Moe was selling but Knight and Chief had different plans!

Once they made it to the back where they found the puppie adopt. And no worries, they aren't just 'giving em away' but YOU will be evaluated by the pups to see if they would to go with you. Then Maggie vibe checks you and then you need a parent's permission, luckily Knight made it past all the steps- with alil help from Chief's mom. But for some reason it seems like Greg and Knight were connected to each other in first sight, like long lost brothers.

And start that day the became inseparable.

Now let me quickly get into the siblings-

Donut! (one anon named him that and i kept it) He's the silly brother and was about by Dippy. No a surprise his name is Donut now huh?

Coco is pretty normal, she was adopted by a farmer so she is still pretty country. But TRYS to pretend that she's not and that she actually came from a long trip in paris but she's not fooling anyone... except maybe Lil Petey. But you can't blame him, he doesn't even know what the Eiffel Tower looks like.

Swoopy, if you thought Dogman was mute then you don't know Swoopy. He's silent always, and he doesn't even sign to communicate to anyone. He just stands there... but somehow he always gets his points across. But sometimes he's abit of a silent menace.

To answer the BURNING QUESTION yes, they do love and support Dogman. Explaining the situation to all of them was scary for Dogman but fortunately he was swarm with unconditional love from his siblings.

No matter their differences and how long it's been since they've seen each other, they're still family. Not because their blood dictates that but because they CHOOSE too.

[missarchive]

motel six

spencer reid

cw; spencer reid x fem!reader, spencer gets caught jacking off, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, softdom!reader, sub!spencer, one bed troupe, oral (m. receiving), aftercare, unprotected p in v, spencer’s a little desperate and awkward (what’s new)

an; HIII ALLL!!! This is based on an ask I received earlier this month, but I have had a few similar ones so I finally made a fic for them. The truth is that I have been seeing a beautiful woman and she is taking up most of my time. BUT- I managed to sneak this one in. I will start posting more consistently again now that my writer’s block has finally disappeared. As always, please leave some feedback if you liked it (if you didn’t just know you’re stepping on my hopes and dreams). Love and miss u guys xoxo

wc; around 3k

Your stomach twists. A long day chasing leads and poring over case files has already left you drained, and now you have to share a room with someone? You glance around at your teammates, who are pairing off with little hesitation. Morgan claims a room with Rossi. Hotch and JJ take another. Emily and Garcia get the third. That leaves…

You turn your head just as Spencer Reid—resident genius, profiler extraordinaire, and your usual case partner—adjusts the strap of his bag with an unmistakable grimace. His hazel eyes dart to yours before flicking away, his jaw tightening.

Of course.

"Looks like it's you and me, Reid," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods stiffly and brushes past you toward the room number scribbled on the keycard sleeve. Your stomach sinks further, but you push down the unease and follow.

The room is as underwhelming as expected: beige walls, scratchy-looking blankets, and a single queen bed shoved against one side. A rickety wooden chair sits near the window, but otherwise, the space is cramped.

Spencer stops in the doorway, his whole body tensing. "You take the bed. I’ll sleep in the chair."

You frown. "Reid, that thing looks like it’ll collapse if you breathe on it too hard. We can just—"

"I said I’ll sleep in the chair," he snaps, dropping his go-bag by the door.

The sharpness in his voice catches you off guard. Spencer is always a little awkward, sometimes distant, but rarely outright rude. You watch as he rubs his temple, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if he might crack a tooth. He looks… angry. At you?

"Okay," you say slowly. "Did I do something?"

"No," he bites out. "Just drop it."

You exhale sharply, irritation flaring. "Spencer, we’re both exhausted. If something’s wrong, you can just—"

"Just leave it alone, Y/N."

His words are clipped, final. You stare at him for a moment, searching his face for an answer, but he won’t meet your gaze. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

Fine. If he wants to be an ass, let him.

"I’m going outside," you mutter, grabbing your jacket. "Maybe by the time I get back, you’ll have figured out how to use your words like an adult."

You don’t wait for a response before stepping out into the cool night air.

The motel parking lot is nearly empty, save for the team's vehicles and a couple of semi-trucks parked along the far end. You breathe in the crisp air, letting it wash away some of the frustration bubbling inside you.

Spencer’s behavior isn’t just annoying—it stings. You thought the two of you were friends. Sure, he can be awkward and distant, but he’s never been outright cruel before. Whatever is bothering him, he clearly doesn’t want to share it with you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the cold seeps through your thin jacket. After a few minutes, your irritation starts to wane, replaced by exhaustion. You don’t have the energy to stay mad, and honestly, all you want is to collapse into bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

With a sigh, you make your way back toward the room. The hallway is silent, the only sound your footsteps against the aging carpet. You reach for the door handle but freeze as a muffled noise seeps through the thin walls.

A low, breathy moan.

Your heart stutters.

You strain to listen, barely breathing as another quiet sound follows—one you recognize immediately.

A strangled gasp, unmistakably Spencer’s.

Heat rushes to your face as your brain supplies every possible explanation, each one more embarrassing than the last. You should walk away. You should turn around and pretend you never heard anything. But your hand stays frozen on the doorknob, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Another moan drifts through the door, this one louder. You swallow against the sudden lump in your throat.

"Fuck," Spencer gasps. "O-oh god— please."

His voice is low, rough. Desperate.

You grip the doorknob tighter, debating for what feels like an eternity. Should you walk away? Or—

You ease the door open, pressing your hand against it as if to stop yourself from charging forward. Spencer’s back is to you, his head thrown back as he works himself over, his hand moving in rapid strokes.

You can’t help it—you step further into the room, drinking in the sight of him.

He’s sprawled on the bed, shirtless and pale in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. His arm muscles are tense, sweat dripping down the side of his face. The blanket is thrown back, revealing his naked lower half: his long legs, his perfect hands—

His cock, thick and wet between his fingers.

You feel a rush of arousal at the sight, your blood pulsing hot. This is so wrong. So inappropriate. He’s your teammate, for god’s sake, and yet—

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

Spencer's hips jerk upwards, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Y/N," he gasps again, his head falling back against the pillow. His eyelids flutter shut, his brows drawn together.

"Y/N, fuck, please—" His hand moves faster, stroking himself with a rough desperation that makes your breath hitch. You can’t look away as he thrusts against his grip, his hips writhing, his spine arched.

"Ah- fuck," he gasps, his body tensing, his fist tightening around himself. His mouth falls open, his eyes squeezing shut as he comes with a strangled moan.

You press your hand over your mouth, holding back a whimper of your own as you watch him.

Spencer sags against the mattress, his chest heaving. He's so fucking beautiful, and—

And you’re still standing here, watching him.

Your eyes dart to his face, and your stomach plummets as he turns his head.

He opens his eyes, and you meet his gaze across the room.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

Then you both leap into action.

He scrambles upright, fumbling for the blanket to cover himself. You jump backward, tripping over the threshold and landing hard on your ass.

"Shit," you hiss, wincing at the pain that shoots up your tailbone. "Shit. I—fuck, I’m sorry. I should—"

"Y/N," Spencer says in a strangled voice. "I—I thought you were gone. I didn’t know you were—"

He trails off, looking anywhere but at you. You struggle to your feet, smoothing your clothes down self-consciously. This is awkward as hell.

"I thought you were asleep," you admit, wincing. "I didn’t mean to—"

Spencer draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He looks so fucking embarrassed, and you can't blame him.

You should say something. Apologize. You should put him at ease—

But the sight of him still has your pulse hammering.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down your racing thoughts. "I’m sorry, Spencer. I really am. I don’t mean—this is just—"

He raises his head, his eyes searching your face. "What were you doing, standing there?" he asks softly.

You swallow against the lump in your throat. "I don’t know," you whisper. "It was wrong, what I did. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have watched you. I’m sorry."

Spencer lowers his gaze, his face still flushed. "What if I wanted you to?" he mumbles.

Your heart jumps. "What?"

"I wanted you to watch me," he says louder, his eyes darting up to meet yours. "I’ve been wanting you to for weeks, ever since you asked me to take over the case files."

"What?" you repeat stupidly.

Spencer shifts, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I started—I started thinking about you. Fantasizing about you. You touching me, kissing me— everything."

Oh.

You stare at him, trying to process. "Reid," you say softly. "I—"

"Don’t apologize," he says quickly. "It’s not your fault, I just—I wanted you. So fucking bad. I thought that sleeping next to you would be—"

"What?" you prompt gently.

He exhales sharply. "That it would be uncomfortable," he says in a rough whisper. "That it would drive me crazy. That maybe you’d—maybe you’d feel it too."

His gaze flicks up to yours again, full of hope.

Your heart races. "Is that what you want?" you ask, stepping forward.

Spencer's breath hitches, his fingers tightening around his knees. "Yes," he rasps. "Oh fuck, yes. If you—Y/N, I’ll do anything you want. Just—just don’t leave me alone again. Please."

His words send a surge of pleasure through your veins. The sight of him, desperate and pleading, is almost too much to bear.

"Spencer," you whisper, taking another step forward. "Come here."

He scrambles to his feet, rushing toward you. You meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He melts against you, pressing his face into the curve of your neck with a sigh.

"I can’t believe you saw that," he murmurs into your skin.

"I can’t believe I did either," you admit with a chuckle. "But I’m glad I did."

Spencer raises his head, his hazel eyes searching yours. "You are?"

You nod, smiling softly. "Yes."

His face flushes. "Do—do you want to watch me again?"

You smile wider. "Maybe later," you tease. "Right now, I think it’s my turn."

Spencer's eyes widen as you press him backwards, onto the bed. "I thought you were tired," he murmurs, his voice already thickening with arousal.

"I am," you agree, smiling. "But this is more important." You drop your jacket onto the floor, pulling off your shirt and jeans in quick motions. Spencer's eyes dart down to take in the sight of your naked body, and you flush at his hungry gaze.

He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow as you climb on top of him.

It takes a lot to shock Spencer Reid. But you're definitely up for the challenge. The look on his face is priceless as you take his cock in your mouth, not wasting any more time. His hips buck against the mattress, his hands threading into your hair.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Oh my god. Y/N."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, urging you on as you work him over. He's so responsive, moaning and gasping and whining—fuck, it's a beautiful sound.

You work him deeper, taking

Spencer moans loudly as you take him deeper, his thighs trembling. "Y/N, oh fuck, I—fuck—"

You press one hand against his hip, holding him steady as you swirl your tongue over the underside of his cock. Spencer bucks against your grip, his fingers tightening in your hair. He's still so sensitive from his previous release, but he's still getting harder—thicker—by the second.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, teasing the spot behind the head.

"Oh fuck," Spencer gasps, his voice broken. "Y/N, please—please don’t stop. I’m going to— ah."

You press your other hand against his stomach, feeling the muscles contract. His whole body is straining upwards, his back arched and his eyes squeezed shut.

You take him all the way in, swallowing around his length as you work your lips over his shaft. Spencer comes with a cry, his hips jerking as he empties down your throat. You swallow every drop, holding his gaze as you slowly pull back.

"Touch," he rasps, his fingers searching for your own.

You swallow against the ache in your throat and smile up at him, lacing your fingers with his. "How are you feeling?" you ask, running your thumb over his hand, keeping your voice soft as to not disturb the air.

Spencer sighs, though not out of exhaustion, you assume he’s still taking everything in as you see his head rolling against the pillow. "It’s never felt like that before."

You grin. "Glad I could help."

He shifts, reaching for his discarded pants on the floor. "We should—we should clean up," he mumbles, his eyes darting to yours. He flushes when he sees your expression, and his face turns even redder as you realize what he’s doing.

"Reid," you laugh. "Are you really reaching for tissues right now?"

His ears turn bright red. "Well, what—what else am I supposed to do?"

You shift, straddling his hips as you lean down. "How about we do something else," you murmur. You kiss his jawline, working your way down his neck.

"Like what?" he asks in a breathy voice.

"Like this," you reply. You shift, taking his cock inside you. Spencer's breath hitches, and he groans at the feel of you surrounding him. You clasp his shoulders as you begin to move, his hands falling to your hips. He gasps with each thrust, his eyes falling shut as his head lolls back against the pillow.

"Y/N," he whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. “I don’t know if I can-."

You ride him harder, sliding up and down his cock. “Yes you can, baby. I know you can give me one more,” Spencer's hips rock upwards to meet you, his breath coming in broken gasps.

His fingers tighten around your hips, holding you close as he thrusts upwards.

You’re both panting and gasping now as you chase the peak. You're so close. So fucking close.

"Please—" Spencer groans. "Y/N. I'm—fuck, I'm coming."

You feel him spasm inside you, his fingers tightening almost painfully around your hips. You groan, your movements slowing as you ride him through his orgasm. Spencer's eyes are closed, his mouth open as he gasps for air. His body trembles beneath you, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as you reach yours, too.

You slump forward, catching yourself on his shoulders as you press your forehead against his. He opens his eyes and smiles at you, a warm expression that makes your chest ache.

"Hi," he murmurs softly.

"Hi Spencer." You smile back.

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the weight of each other’s bodies. Finally, you roll off him, stretching out next to him on the creaky motel bed.

You reach for him, pulling him into your arms as you smile. He nestles against you, his arm snaking around your waist as he presses his face against your chest.

You wrap your arm around him, whispering soft praise into his hair as you stroke his skin gently. He relaxes further, his body growing heavy with sleep.

The mattress is uncomfortable, the sheets too thin. But somehow, you feel more at ease than you have in weeks.

Spencer Reid is a brilliant man. But he’s also really fucking good at other things too. And you’re excited to find out what else he’s good at.

You smile to yourself, your chest warm with affection.

"Goodnight, Reid," you whisper into his hair.

He hums a soft reply, his breathing already slowing. You wrap your arm tighter around him, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off into sleep. Tomorrow, the case will continue, and so will your job. But right now, you have Spencer in your arms.

And that’s more than enough. You smile again, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you drift off to sleep. This room might not be perfect. But it’s home for the moment, and that’s all you need. You drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of Spencer's heartbeat against your chest.

[ceilidho]

fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 12 masterlist

-

A false moon dictates the coming of night. 

You set up a cot in the medical unit again, going to your quarters to grab a spare set of sheets before returning, Gaz shadowing you the way there and back. His presence scratches at the back of your head, reminding you that he’s there at your back. You don’t ask him why he insists on keeping up this charade of monitoring your behaviour—his motives are as unclear to you as ever.  

“This isn’t necessary,” you finally manage to get out on the walk back to the medbay, the door within sight. 

“I know,” Gaz says simply. 

The door slides open and you enter with him still at your back. “Then why are you following me?”

“Those were Graves’ orders, weren’t they?”

“And you what? Follow his orders now?”

It’s difficult to determine who you actually feel betrayed by. Gaz owes you no debt—it wasn’t you that let him into the ship. The focus of your anger should be on Graves and the rest of the crew, but yet—

Your chest twinges when the door slides shut and Gaz leans against it, no different than a guard posted at the door. 

He shrugs, unbothered by the reproach in your voice. “He’s the commander.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s right.”

“Maybe not.”

“I had nothing to do with Hadir getting sick.”

“I know that.” Your chest deflates when you can’t detect any insincerity behind his words. “But Graves is in charge of the ship and unless you think you could get the others to agree with you, isn’t it better to toe the line for now?”

It would upset you if it were any less true. The hierarchical arrangement of personnel on board has always been clear, and it’s not lost on you that you’ve always hovered near the bottom, falling further from grace with every passing day. Who apart from Gaz and Hadir have been sympathetic towards you in recent weeks anyway? Nikolai’s friendship is an extension of his disposition, an affection easily given and easily taken away. Farah barely even regards you as trustworthy these days, convinced that you’re teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

She might not be wrong. 

Gaz watches you make the bed, settling into your office chair, a mite more comfortable than the stool by the counter. 

“Do you want me to set up a cot for you?” you ask begrudgingly. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t need one.”

“You can sleep comfortably sitting up like that?” 

His smile verges on patronizing. “I don’t need to sleep, love.”

Your skin crawls. You hate when he does that—when he lets you in on your shared secret, the knowledge that he isn’t as human as he appears. Whatever he is still eludes you. Alien or divine. There’s no point in asking though. That knowledge sits beyond your purview. 

You ignore him to the best of your abilities and finish setting up your cot, his words still ringing in your ears. 

Things take a turn for the worse when Hadir stops responding altogether. 

Though his verbal responses have become less and less frequent over the last couple days, the dropoff is significant. As your only patient though, you’ve been monitoring him closely since he was admitted, and you pick up on the change quickly. It’s like an itch under your skin, a sixth sense from working with sick patients for the better part of your adult years. 

Gaz picks up on the change in your mood, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you respond through stiff lips. “Something changed.”

The base of your spine tingles when the vital signs monitor suddenly beeps, alerting you to a change in Hadir’s condition.

You flip a switch and press a button on the keyboard, speaking directly to the Ship’s AI. “Ship, what’s the patient’s status?” 

Patient's temperature is unusually elevated

Recommendation to increase fluids and decrease external temperature 

You lift his eyelids and find his pupils irregular, one larger than the other, and they don’t respond properly when you shine a light on them. 

“What can I do?” Gaz asks, as serious as you’ve ever seen him.

“We need to cool him down. His fever is spiking. I’ll get the cooling blanket—there are ice packs in the freezer over there—” You point to a refrigerator on the other side of the room. “—get the ice packs and start packing them around his armpits and groin. We need to get his temperature down while I figure out what the fuck is happening.”

Gaz moves quickly, retrieving the ice packs from the freezer and packing them up against Hadir’s pits and in between his legs under the medical gown. Hadir’s lips flutter reflexively at the cold but that’s as much responsiveness as you get out of him. 

You press the button to speak to the AI again. “Ship, is his temperature coming down?”

Negative

Patient temperature currently: 104°

Even his breathing has changed, his breaths similarly irregular and increasingly shallower. You put in the orders for another CT scan, moving quicker and typing faster than you ever have before. The breathing tube gets put in next to secure his airway and you don’t like the way his gag reflex doesn’t kick in when the tube is shoved down his throat. It signals something dangerous. 

The situation before you doesn’t bode well. Dread clings to the wall in the far corner of the room but you ignore its presence to focus on your work, throwing everything at the walls to see what sticks. 

His labs are all over the place. High fever, low platelets, high D-dimer, high FDPs. An hour passes in a blink with you running test after test to no avail—none of his results that come back make any sense—all while his temperature continues to rise. 

Patient temperature currently: 105°

Plastic backliners flutter to the floor when you rip them off the electrodes, pasting the small metal discs around Hadir’s scalp for the EEG, working as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

“Has his temperature come down yet?” you bark, too preoccupied with your work to chance a glance up at the monitor.

“No,” Gaz says curtly. “Still 105°.”

It’s all happening so quickly that you can’t seem to get your bearings. If it were anyone else on the table, you’d at least have Hadir to assist you; you’re on your own now though, Gaz barely any help to you without any real medical knowledge. 

Your heart pounds against your chest when you notice blood coming up Hadir’s ET tube. A few droplets at first, and then a trickle. 

A horrible, prophetic knowledge falls over you, threatening to collapse you. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Gaz asks.

“I don’t know—” Then his nose starts to bleed and your heart stops. The stain on the front of his gown and what you find underneath it when you lift it up confirms your worst suspicions. “He’s going into DIC—”

“DIC?”

“His blood—”

The AI takes that moment to interject, speaking over you: Patient body has used up all of its clotting factors and will begin to bleed out

Sepsis—a severe infection—an autoimmune response—trauma—cancer—so many different possible answers to explain why Hadir would spontaneously go into disseminated intravascular coagulation, but his labs tell you shit. Nothing makes sense. You can’t explain why he might be hemorrhaging because there isn’t anything in his scans or labs to indicate anything wrong with him.

More blood leaks from his face and nethers, staining the light blue of the bed a dark red. Logical objections halt in the face of the tangible, and blood is tangible. Blood is all you see. 

The final moments are harried, frenzied. You bark orders at Gaz, which he follows militarily, and struggle in vain to keep Hadir’s condition from further deteriorating, but it’s nearly impossible without being able to address the root cause. Transfusions of platelets, fresh frozen plasma, and cryoprecipitate only go so far. 

When his brain activity goes flat on the monitor, your mind goes blank. Static noise fills your head. You slump against the wall, staring at Hadir’s bleeding body on the exam table, still leaking blood from all of his orifices, the sound of the monitor blaring like a siren in your ears. 

“He’s dead,” Gaz says blandly, staring at the body nonplussed. 

“Yeah,” you rasp. Your voice is thick in your throat, devastated. 

There’s blood all over the bed, more in one place than you’ve seen in a long time—not since working in trauma units back on Earth. Every inch of your body aches as the adrenaline recedes, having reached its peak in the throes of Hadir’s final moments, jaw so tight you almost can’t unclench it.

“What happened?” he asks, almost quizzically. 

The curious lack of emotion in his voice doesn’t penetrate through the brain fog. “I don’t know—he just…” 

The weight of all that just happened comes over you swiftly. An hour ago, Hadir was fine for all intents and purposes. Stable. Now, blood stains his chin, the underside of his nose, the front of his gown, and the bed underneath him, the sweat caked on his forehead cooling as the life leaches out of his body. 

Your hands shake by your sides, a violent tremble rolling through you. 

“I don’t get it,” you whisper. 

You should’ve quarantined Hadir from the start, from the very second he was admitted into your care. You should’ve ignored the fact that his labs came back fine that first day and just assumed that the nature of his illness was more severe than it appeared. Shame and dread plunge like a dagger through your midsection.

Protocol should’ve dictated that you initiate a quarantine, but since you didn’t—

You stare at the body on the table, the ET tube streaked with blood.

—your duty now is to ensure that no one else gets sick too. 

You’ll need to seal off the medbay until every surface has been properly decontaminated and then quarantine yourself until you’re sure that you aren’t infected as well. Your eyes flick towards Gaz momentarily before you shoot down the thought of testing him as well. 

Mitigate the transmission. That thought sticks out amongst the rest. The body lying on the bed in the middle of the room is no longer a patient that needs tending to but rather hazardous material that needs to be disposed of lest whatever infected it is transmitted to everyone else on board the ship. 

It’s waste. Filth. And it will contaminate everything on board if you don’t remove it. 

Your body moves on autopilot. You wheel the bed to the ejection chute at the back of the medbay. It takes a series of codes in order to open the door to the chute and you key them in quickly and efficiently. When the door slides open, you raise the bed until it’s slightly higher than the chute, tipping the bed forward in order for the body to slide into it. 

Ejection chute engaged

Hadir’s body disappears into the chute, the reinforced metal and glass sliding shut when the sensors register that the chute door is empty. There’s a thunk from behind the wall as his body is shuttled through the pneumatic tubes towards the back of the ship, and it won’t be more than a minute before the body is projected from the ship entirely. 

Your heart skips a beat when the AI pings awake again.

Object ejected 

“I wouldn't have done that if I were you,” Gaz says, and you flinch at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting that someone else is in the room with you. 

Your eyes drift over to him, the room murky for a moment, the air hazy like water, like you’re looking through a film and only just starting to settle back down into your body after watching from overhead. He seems bigger somehow.

“We have to quarantine ourselves,” you say, frantically towards one of the cupboards and ripping it open, pulling out rolls of plastic to plaster over the door. “We didn’t put on any PPE, so we might’ve been exposed to whatever Hadir had.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

His lips are turned up at the corners when you look over, frowning, but noise in the hallway keeps you from following up on his remark. 

The announcement over the intercom must have alerted the others, and you hear footsteps from down the hall seconds before they arrive, boots clanking against the metal flooring. When the door slides open and you see Farah standing there with Alex at her back, her face hauntingly vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before, words fail you. 

“What happened?” Farah asks. 

“I don’t know. He was fine just a second ago and then—”

“Where is he?” she demands, scanning the room for him. “Where’s Hadir?”

“I—” The words get tangled up in your throat, terror and shame making it hard enough to breathe, never mind speak. 

Graves barrels in a second later, flushed and out of breath. He must have been in the cockpit when the intercom alerted him to the ejection chute being utilized. Nikolai is fast on his heels, less winded but just as concerned. 

You realize that from the direction Nikolai came, he must’ve been at the back of the spacecraft, and you morbidly wonder if he heard the sound of Hadir’s body ferrying through the pneumatic tube system.

“Doctor, what did you just throw out of the chute?” Graves asks, his tone hard and uncompromising, softened only by the breathless note in his voice from running halfway across the ship. 

You don’t answer.

His eyes lift to the space over your shoulder, where the patient bed is flush to the wall, the head level with the chute leading out of the ship. Blood still saturates the mattress. 

You watch as the knowledge of what you’ve done dawns on them, realization morphing into distress and horror. From behind Farah, Alex goes ashen, a hand clamping down on her shoulder to hold her in place before she realizes what you’ve done and the inevitable happens. You see it play out in your head like a movie. 

“Farah—” he starts, but any effort to steer her out of the room is thwarted by how quickly she comes to the same conclusion. 

“Where’s my brother?” Farah screams, and you wince, your head aching like there’s something else in there listening to her scream too. 

Alex has to hold her back from lunging at you, fighting to keep her in his arms, her body thrashing wildly. You’ve never seen her like this before. Grief and rage strip her of stoicism, and when her screams turn to tears, it rips a hole right through you. 

“You ejected Hadir from the ship?” Graves breathes, stunned. 

Nikolai just stares, at a loss for words. You’ve never seen any of them so obviously affected, so contrary to the image of them that you’ve carried with you in your mind for months. 

“I had to!” you shout, vocal cords tearing under the strain. “We couldn’t keep his body on board! What if it was some hemorrhagic fever—like ebola? Or worse?”

“You don’t even know what killed—” Graves roars before stopping abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut. He presses his fist to his mouth, the skin around his knuckles bone white. 

“We need to quarantine.” Your fingers tremble when you press them to your temples, flinching when you realize that your gloves are still covered in blood. “I was going to seal off the room to keep it from spreading, but now that you’re all here, we’re probably all been infected—”

“Infected by what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

A shade is falling over you. Everything feels raw, livid—a wound being prodded. The light hurts your eyes when you lift them from the floor to meet Graves’ gaze. Even the air feels caustic against your skin. 

Even your impulses don’t feel like your own, like there is some

insidious rot

fruiting under your skin.

“Are you going to say anything to them?” you finally snap at Gaz, desperation loosening your tongue. “You were here—you saw what happened. Why aren’t you telling them what happened?”

The others turn to look at him, orienting like sunflowers towards the sun. It’s the only comparison that comes to mind. And at the centre of them, Gaz stares back at you, an ersatz approximation of confusion. 

He gives a slow blink, eyes glinting with something unknown. “Tell them what? That you tossed Hadir out into space?” 

You should’ve expected that you’d be left hanging, but the reality of it is unbearable. Humiliating. 

You know what you look like to them: dangerous, erratic. Your paranoia on full display. Even Nikolai’s mouth is set in a grim line.

You can hear the accusations flying through their minds—that you caused this somehow. Overdosed him on anti-clotting medication and let him bleed out, then disposed of the body before a proper autopsy could be performed. That maybe you prolonged his illness, knowing it would lead to this.  

It happens swiftly and without word, as if planned ahead of time. Nikolai and Graves lunge towards you suddenly, grabbing you by the undersides of your arms and nearly lifting you off your feet when they haul you forcibly out of the room. Alex still has Farah trapped in his arms in the corner of the room when they drag you past her. 

“Farah, I’m sorry—I’m sorry—” 

You’re not strong enough to break free of Graves’ and Nikolai’s hold though, so you’re carried off before Farah can say anything. There’s only a split second for your eyes to lock and for you to see something broken beyond recognition there, and then the door cuts you off from her.

“You’re all fucking insane—let me go—” you scream, spittle flying from your mouth. The scream that tears out of you is so animalistic and loud that your throat squeezes up in protest, a cough forcing its way out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Down the hall and towards the back of the ship. Boots echo against the metal floors, the two men on either side of you in sync with each other. Neither says a word nor responds to your screams. Their patience with your increasingly unhinged behaviour has finally crossed a threshold once thought impossible, your reputation alone no longer enough to save you. 

They all but throw you into the brig, the metal door clanging shut behind you when you’re dropped to your hands and knees, peering over your shoulder to find Nikolai punching in the key to lock and arm the door, a wretched, pained look on his face.

“Nikolai, please—” you beg, crawling to the door and curling your hands around the bar. “It wasn’t my fault—I didn’t kill Hadir. I’m sorry! He could’ve made everyone on board sick if we’d kept the body! Please, Nikolai, please—”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. The last sound you hear is the brig door slamming shut and then their footsteps gradually recede into the distance.

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

The vampire is sick to his stomach as he saw the wagyu steak. The vampire push the raw steak away from his chest. He looks at the person who made this.

“Pandora, I am Hindu. I can’t eat beef because it is taboo in my religion,” said Denki. “Plus it is not cooked. Are you trying to get me sick so I can take a sick leave, just so I can continue in helping you?” He continued, then he sigh. “That is diabolical and typical of you.”

Pandora looks at him, shocked that she refused to eat. She would have been angry if it not for his explanation. Maybe she should have cook the steak and let the kitchen be on fire hehehehe. Ever since his colleague went missing, Denki spends his days finding them and figuring out the identity of the culprit. So far it is not Hamilton Slade (and thanks goodness they escape death by the hands of vampire mutant. And it turns out he was resurrected and under control by a demon! Man Townsville is getting really…. Strange!).

“You have not been eating anything!” Said Pandora. She press his arm hard and Denki winced. “See! I can feel your bone. I can snaps you like a twig. How were you able to active on your hero work?”

Denki felt conflicted when she said that. Pandora just wanted to use his brain to have him do a private investigation. But his arm?!

“Hey! I need my arms intact, to perform your investigation and my search for Professor McKnight.” Denki protested, then Denki let out a sigh, then got up from his chair to show Pandora his conspiracy board. Pandora see all the photos, news clippings of the vampire attacks, news about Tormenta’s hero days, and informations on the fairy courts and witch covens are all aligned on the bulletin board, covering in a spiderweb of red strings.

“You’re right, Pandora…. Someone has it against people I am close to.” He said.

Pandora see a photo of a tall girl with black hair. She stares at the photo. A tall slightly curvy girl. She had dark cinnamon brown skin, big green eyes, and long straight black hair that went down to her lower legs. She also saw a photo of a young boy was sitting next to her. He was brown-skinned and had greenish brown eyes. “Are these your siblings?” Pandora asked. Denki looks at Pandora, since she is new to Townsville. “You’re correct, that is my little sister, Ashanti and our thambi, Reyansh. Ashanti is one of the protectors of Townsville,” He explained. “She’s is a heroine investigating on this mission on the gruesome murders. Therefore, She and my other cousin, Auggie and their team to not bury their nose that doesn’t belong. This led vampires to attacked P.O.I.N.T. Prep, and one of them turned me into one, to pose as a message to my little sister. That mastermind was after me, Nergella, Reyansh and his friend, Saturn because she started to be more involve.” He concluded.

Pandora looks at his board, digesting all this information, taking a deep breath in and out. This is actually make sense. Better than how the vampire descendant of an ancient powerful mutant, whose served Dracula, returned from the death.

Pandora grabs his face and squeezing and rubbing his cheeks. “I knew this brain could be useful. Now all you have to do is get the nutrients you deserve.”

Denki squirted his eyes and remains stoic. He is not eating that raw wagyu steak. Pandora see the expression on Denki’s face, and he let him go. “Ok ya big baby, what meats can you actually eat? Pork?”

Denki shook his head. Pandora just groaned, learning that he can’t eat pork. She could really use a drink right now. She stares at his refrigerator.

“The meats I always eat are chickens, muttons, and elks. Once or twice a week. Muttons once a year or on special occasions.….” He explained then see Pandora is not focusing on him anymore, and instead his refrigerator. He saw the refrigerator left open. She takes the blood bag to take a a short sip, but then stops for a moment, and then proceeds to continue drinking it.”

Instead of asking her to stop, he decides to tell her of his diet.

“I drank blood given to me by Mr. Morale, which the blood came from his wife. I can drinks human blood, though I preferred animal blood, but my auntie says it is better safe than sorry. Do you thinks inhuman-vampire should drink blood of either an inhuman or an inhuman-witch? Or just human blood?”

His eyes shifted to Pandora drinking the blood pack and stopped. Pandora searched up “Miles Morale’s Wife” on Google from her cellphone. Pandora’s jaw dropped. She drank the blood of the superheroine, Ms. Marvel, a mutant/inhuman hybrid. The drops of her blood stained on her cellphone.

“Pandora?” He asked, looking at her with concerns written on her face. Pandora is now internally screaming right now, unable to respond. He see Pandora grinning from ear to ear. At least she is happy to try out his blood supply. He shuts the door of the refrigerator. People always come to him for when they needed something, or people wanted him to do what they wanted to do. But he can’t do the latter. He is nothing but a lapdog.

~~~~

Meanwhile back at the Deol Residence, Ashanti’s eyes are glued to the letter she received in the mail, written in blood, her hands are shaken. Ashanti looked at the photos on her desk….. Photos of her elder brother hanging out with some vampires at an alternative rock concert and at a private yacht. Her face is pale, and then turn red. Ashanti crumbled up the piece of paper and ripped it into shreds, and punch her desk hard out of rage, cracks are forming. She is angry at her two brothers and aunt for keeping this a secret from her and her dad. Angry at herself that someone unleashed a swarm of feral vampires to attack P.O.I.N.T. Prep is all because she is investigating the mission, by her auntie and the vice-principal’s direct order, putting her siblings and cousin in danger. Ashanti gritting her teeth thinking about she could have done better. Then she anger turns to sorrows as tears begin to form in her eyes. Ashanti slumped down to her chair.

Auggie Babcock-Pines (mentioned), Tormenta McKnight (mentioned), and Pandora belong to @animeclub78

Ashanti Deol/Ashanti Sharma, Saturn (mentioned), and Reyansh Deol/Reyansh Sharma belong to @cooltmoney95

Nergella Utonium-Pines (mentioned) and Denki A. Deol belong to me

“Ummm… what are you doing?” Asked the vampire calmly, as you desperately push the piece of raw steak against his chest. “Is… is that wagyu?”

[be-xkyy]

Yandere Platonic Twin Brother (a bit of yandere friend in love)

Warning: violence, blood, a broken nose, overprotective brother, a friend in love, a clueless reader but with strong character, This is PLATONIC and a little ROMANTIC but not with the brother.

(By the way, I was going to be inactive this month, but it's quite the opposite, why does inspiration come to me when I have so many things pending😰? I'm juggling the blog and school 💀)

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Yandere Twin Brother who was already attached to you from the womb; when your parents went to their appointments with the OB they always saw him by your side even in an ultrasound (that your mother framed) it looks like you are holding his little hands.

Yandere Twin Brother who when he was born (just five minutes before you) cried at the top of his lungs and his cries only calmed down a little when you were born and he heard you cry.

Yandere Twin Brother who shared the same crib with you (although your parents bought one for each of you) when you were babies since he always cried if they separated him from you.

Yandere Twin Brother who comforted you when you cried on the first day at daycare because you missed your parents and you were scared; he hugged you rubbing your back with his little hand and promised you with his pinky that he would always take care of you.

"Don't cry sis! Everything will be okay, I'm with you. I promise I'll scold our parents for doing this to you! Please don't cry..."

Yandere Twin Brother who never let anyone bother you or get close to you at daycare; one day a boy pulled your pigtails making you cry and your upset brother pushed him to the ground and another boy approached your bully and bit him (two teachers had to make him let go)

Yandere Twin Brother who only had one exception to the rule and allowed him to get close to you; that exception was Jamie a boy his age who seemed enchanted with you and became friends with your brother after biting the boy who bothered you.

Yandere Twin Brother who from that day on basically spent all his time with you and Jamie; They were the three musketeers, as you grew up you became even closer (if that was possible) and Jamie's feelings for you became more obvious (to everyone but you) your brother liked to tease Jamie.

"Maybe my sister doesn't like you because of your idiotic face, she has good taste you know?"

"Oh shut up! I'm really handsome and she's just shy, plus we all know you're the ugly one of the group"

"EH?!—"

Yandere Twin Brother who like you and Jamie was quite popular at university; although he was surrounded by girls he never put them above you and always spent time with you; also he and Jamie were howling at your suitors constantly (much to your annoyance)

Yandere Twin Brother who got furious when he saw Jamie flirting with another girl and even kissed her, how could he do this to you?! (it's true that you don't even know that he loves you, but it's still wrong, okay..?) He approached angrily, when Jamie saw him she greeted him only to receive a strong punch in the face.

Yandere Twin Brother who started a fight with Jamie when he recovered from the shock of the blow, both began to punch and hit each other while yelling at each other, some students ran to separate them.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL ME YOU LOVE MY SISTER AND THE NEXT DAY BE WITH A BITCH?!"

"IT WAS JUST A THING! WHAT DO YOU CARE ABOUT IT?! SHE AND I ARE NOTHING YET!"

"YET?! YOU THINK YOU'LL HAVE SOMETHING WITH MY SISTER AFTER THIS?! I'M GOING TO FUCK KILL YOU!"

Yandere Twin Brother who tried to break free to hit him again but they both held him firmly; a teacher arrived and they were both taken to the infirmary, a smile slipped across your brother's bruised lip when the nurse said that Jamie's nose was broken.

Yandere Older Brother who looks at you embarrassed when you enter the infirmary with judging eyes asking you both what happened but you don't answer and you end up asking them if they fought over a girl and they both answer at the same time exalted.

"NO!"

"NO!!!"

Yandere Twin Brother who ends up making up a random excuse for why you two fought and Jamie nods his head agreeing with him; you on the other hand look at them unconvinced before sighing and rolling your eyes; after being treated you both are called to the dean's office and end up being suspended for two weeks.

Yandere Twin Brother who when you leave the office approaches you along with Jamie who tries to joke a little about the situation (to calm the waters with your brother) but your brother ignores him taking you by the arm and leading you towards the exit while Jamie follows them.

"Well, it's not so bad we can spend more time together, right?"

"Shut your mouth Jamie, don't talk to this idiot sister."

"Hey, wait for me, don't leave me!"

[ipushhimback]

this… is a french braid

pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader warnings: none words: 850?

summary: who could have known that a braid can cause so much drama

It was the morning of the Dutch Grand Prix. You were standing in front of your daughter’s suitcase as you showed her the outfits you packed, none of which Emily agreed to wear.

“But look, chérie, this is such a pretty dress”, you said hoping that your daughter would finally agree to wear something.

“No. It is not. I want the one Uncle Charles gave me!”, your daughter pouted.

Sadly you knew that Em was stubborn. She wouldn’t just agree to wear something she didn’t want to.

“I don’t have Charles dress here… Please. Just wear one of these dresses… Or do you want to wear a jeans? With one of the shirts Papa got for you?”, you asked again, praying Emily would agree to the tiny Red Bull shirts Max got her just a few days ago.

The five-year-old scrunched her nose as she thought about it before agreeing.

“Ok. But I want pretty hair”, she said as she looked up at you.

“A braid?”, you asked as you pulled out the little jeans and Red Bull shirt for your daughter.

Emily nodded. “The pretty braid you always do. The not-just-on-the-bottom-braid.”

“You mean a French Braid?”, you asked while helping your daughter in the shirt.

“Yes. The magic braid that doesn’t look ugly after I run very fast.”

You just nodded as you grabbed the comb from the suitcase and tried to gently detangle your daughter’s curls. Methodically, you parted her hair and placed one strand over another while you listened to Emily rambling about how Uncle Charles promised her that Alex would bring Leo with her and Uncle Arthur had promised her to bring her chocolate to the track.

“And Uncle Charlie said he will give me an own car so I can drive around alone-“

“Charles said what?”, you asked shocked. “A car?”

“Yes, a car. A red one. Like his car”, Emily said dead serious.  

You just stared at her through the mirror, deciding that you’ll have to talk to Charles about that… car for your five year old daughter.

You finished the braid by wrapping a small elastic around the hair.

“Such a pretty girl”, you said smiling which made Emily giggle.

“You are pretty, too, Maman”, Em said and you had to admit, not even a compliment of Max could compare to your daughter complimenting you.

“Thank you, chérie. Now, let’s go. Papa is probably already waiting for us.”

��YES! Can I show him my hair then?!”, Emily said excitedly.

“Of course you can. Can we leave now? Is your outfit good? Braids don’t hurt?”, you asked praying that everything would be good so they could finally leave.

Emily thought for a moment but nodded eventually, making you sigh in relief.

“Amazing. Then get your backpack, chérie.”

—-

Only half an hour later they arrived at the paddock and as soon as Em saw Max she started running towards him.

“PAPA! Look at my pretty hair. Maman did a braid! The magic braid!” The five-year-old turned her head so Max could look at her hair.

“Wow! Such a pretty braid, Em!”, Max exclaimed before he looked closer.

“Liefje, this”, he looked at you while pointing at the braid, “is a French Braid…”

You looked absolutely confused. “Yes? It is the one your daughter requested after not wanting to wear anything…? Is there a problem?”

Max now looked like he might start crying. Seriously, it was the exactly same face, as Emily’s before she throws a tantrum.

“We are at the Dutch Grand Prix! She… she cannot have a French Braid! We… we are Dutch! My baby girl is Dutch!”

You looked up in the sky, pinching the bridge of your nose, while telling yourself it wouldn’t be worth it to start yelling now. After the drama with Emily not wanting to wear anything, your nerves were already used up.

“Mon cœur. I really really love you. But a damn French Braid does not mean she isn’t Dutch anymore…”

Max pouted. “But-“

“No!”, you exclaimed before you could stop yourself. “Max. Next time I will gladly let you braid her hair but today, please just accept that she has a French Braid. Ok?”

Max still looked sad but nodded. “I guess your Maman chose France over the Netherlands”, he whispered in Emily’s ear.

“But Maman is from Monaco”, his daughter said confused.

“Close enough”, Max sighed. “Tomorrow, when it is race day, I will braid your hair, ok? And we will choose a pretty dress.”

—-

The next morning you had the time of your life. You were sitting on the balcony of your hotel room while Max was in the room, trying to get Emily to wear a dress.

“Baby girl, please! This is so pretty! I beg you! Please just wear it. I am sure Uncle Charles will love it!”

You have been hearing Max beg for around half an hour now, even considered going inside to help him. But honestly, you were enjoying the sun and your coffee way too much. Max will handle it…

a/n: this was an idea i had in the middle of the night… i hope it is good hahah

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 

[ijenoyou]

Ojos lindos.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

WARNINGS: none rlly i think it’s just some nice fluff strangers to friends :3

note: helllowwwww it’s been a while since i’ve written sum for marvel lol anywayssss i rlly enjoyed the new cap movie!! and def did enjoy danny ramirez as the new falcon :3 so yeah i hope yall like this ohhh and if i like this storyline enough i’ll probably make it into a series ;) OH also the reader is supposed to be iron heart !!

Since Sam needed a new team for the Avengers the very first person that came to his mind, aside from Joaquín, was you. You definitely had Tony Stark’s brilliant mind and that helped you build your own suit not wanting to use the one your father made you while you were stuck in the Blip.

And Sam needs someone like that, smart, strong and brave. So when you offered to help him rebuild the team he was more than happy that you did. And he even was more happier to the fact that he got to see you. Since the passing of Tony Stark you disappeared leaving him with the wonder of where you went.

But you had to. Thanos had blasted you with the power of all the stones the moment he saw you get ahold of the gauntlet not knowing that the mixture of the power would cause your body to absorbe it.

So you had new powers, one’s that are quite hard to control, so you did what was safe to the people you care for which was disappear.

But now all was good, your powers are more than safe to use now that you know your way around them. And when Sam found out about the things you could do he knew in his heart he should take you under his wing just like he did with Joaquín Torres.

“She told we could have any room we want.” Sam told Joaquín when they arrived to the old Avengers base.

The both of them grabbed their own baggage and began walking inside the building.

Joaquín’s eyes were shining like crazy. He always thought being an Avenger wasn’t something in his path.

“Uncle Sam!” You said as soon as you saw them walking to the area that had all the old rooms the old team used. You arrived earlier since you wanted to clean up the area for the new arrivals.

Sam smiled and left his things on the floor, he then extended his arms signaling for you to hug him. Since you were quite far holding a broom you decided to teleport.

Joaquín hadn’t seen something like that. The pink glow that appeared in front of him when you appeared of the blue was something that surprised him and it made him lift the right corner of his lip, amused to the fact you were clearly too lazy to walk a few steps to greet Sam.

“So, this is my new child, also known as the new Falcon, Joaquín Torres.” Sam said while grabbing Joaquín’s shoulder.

Your eyes traveled towards him and smiled. You looked different from what he was used to. One of your eyes had a pink glow and the other didn’t, he tried not to let his thoughts show on his face after seeing your new appearance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sam’s been talking a lot about you since we were on our way.” Joaquín said while reaching his hand out for you to shake. “I’m a big fan of your work, I was a volunteer on the charity you created a few months ago.”

Your smile became even bigger at the mention of the charity you created in honor of the fallen Avengers.

“Really? Thank you so much! I thought I recognized your face from somewhere else.” You said with a sweet tone. “People usually tell me about my father’s work and not mine so thank you, really.” You shook his hand.

Warm.

That’s what he felt inside him when he touched you. He noticed how small your hand was compared to his and how soft your skin felt against his calloused palm.

The both of you didn’t notice how Sam walked out the scene and began searching for a specific room. He wanted the one Steve used since he heard amazing stories about the incredible shower head pressure.

“Want help finding a room?” You said while taking one of this bags from the floor.

“Oh don’t worry I’ll take it!” He tried to take the bag from you.

Too late. You had already teleported a few feet away from him with a playful smile.

“Come! I think you might like this room.”

He smiled and nodded.

He walked behind you for a few moments when you stopped in front of a door that had the number 10 on it. You pushed a few numbers on the pad that was next to the door and the door opened by sliding.

“This one used to be one of my favorite rooms. “ You said with a soft tone.

You left Joaquín’s bag on an old chair and turned to him with your hand on your hips.

“You like it? The view here is amazing, my favorite out of all the rooms.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. This room had a perfect view to the forest that connected to the base, he couldn’t help but notice how big the room is. Way bigger than he ever imagined with huge windows and a balcony that already had some furniture on it.

“I really do.” He left his things on the floor next to the old chair and walked to stand next to you. Admiring the view.

“My father built quite a lot of rooms for everyone.” You said. “He wanted everyone living under the same roof.” You smiled at the memory of the old team fighting to get the nicest rooms over the base.

Joaquín turned to see you.

You not noticing that he much preferred to have you as the increíble view you mentioned instead of the forest.

“Que ojos tan lindos.” He didn’t realized what he said until you turned towards him with a lifted eyebrow and small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You think? I’m still getting used to the new color but it’s quite cool.” He didn’t know you understood spanish. A blush began spreading to his face and his right hand scratched the back of his neck with a bashful smile.

“Sorry I just..” He tried to speak but being caught red handed specially by you made him lose control of his words.

“It’s fine!” Your shoulder pushed his. “I don’t mind people looking at my eye, I mean, the staring was bound to happen.” You explained and began walking away from him. “I’ll let you get settled okay? Dinner’s at 8! I’m cooking enchiladas, hope that’s okay.”

Joaquín nodded. “I love enchiladas.” You gave him a thumbs up and walked out the room.

He turned again and stared at the windows for a few seconds until he registered what you said about the staring. He quickly turned on his heel and sprinted to the hall. “For the record I wasn’t staring at your eye! I was just admiring them!” He shouted for you to hear.

A big laugh was all he hear from down the hall. He smiled and turned which caused him to have a mini heart attack at the sight of Sam behind him.

“Dude! Make some noise the next time you stand behind me.” Joaquín said while putting a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat at a fast pace.

Sam made a face at him. That damn look Sam had almost all of the time when he found something cheeky. Like he knew a secret about you.

“You and little Stark became friends really fast uh?” Was all he said while crossing his arms over his chest.

[ ]

A plate of enchiladas appeared in front of Joaquín and Sam’s eyes.

“Here you go!” You said while sitting in front of them at the aisle of the kitchen instead of the big dinning room. You had said it felt way bigger with just the three of you, but Sam reassured you that with time and effort that would soon change.

“So, do you know when Bucky’s coming?” Sam asked while cutting his enchiladas.

You nodded, your hand reaching for a napkin. “Yes! He told me he’s coming next week after he visits the wakandians for a new update on his arm.” You explained after taking a big gulp of your iced coca cola. “He’s been staying up here with me for a while so his room is already set up.”

That caught Joaquín’s full attention and Sam noticed. Sam decided to play a little game with the knowledge he now has. His new child had a crush on little Stark. Oh my, how small the world is.

“Really? And what do you guys do? I’m assuming is just the two of you.” Sam told you with a cheeky sneer.

Your cheeks became flushed and that made Joaquín furrow his eyebrows, just a little.

“Well we just spend time next to one another you know? Sometimes I’ll be reading and he would be sitting next to me while he learns how to share a TikTok.” You explained with your eyes locked on your food.

Sam lifted an eyebrows and began asking more things to get a rise out of Joaquín. “How nice of him, right Joaquín?” Sam elbowed him causing him to cough.

“Oh? Yeah…”

“He doesn’t stay a lot.” You explained sensing the weird tension in the air. “He sometimes comes when I tell him I miss my father.”

The strings of Joaquín’s heart were pulled. He couldn’t imagine what you felt. From what Sam told him, it was just you and Tony Stark. He then met Pepper and became partners but for a while it was just the two of you, against everything.

He knew your father was your rock, he was all you had since your mother died while giving birth, the doctors not noticing she was having an internal bleeding causing her to slip away without too much fuss. The info being shared by Sam.

“But now, you two are here so I won’t be feeling as lonely as before.” Sam nodded as the same time Joaquín did.

After dinner Sam had to take a call from the White House, leaving you with Joaquín to wash all of the dirty dishes you used.

It was nice. Joaquín felt a cozy vibe coming from the moment, soft jazz music playing on the background, you next to him drying the plates with a cloth he would give you after he scrubbed them.

“I totally think he faked that call because he didn’t want to help wash the dishes.” You said playfully.

A laughed erupted from Joaquín’s chest and nodded. “For sure! I mean did you see the look he gave us when he stood up?”

Now it was your time to laugh. “That damn look he has! It’s like he knows something about you, isn’t it?” The both of you exploded of laughter. Making fun of Sam was one of your favorite hobbies now that he was more present in your life.

“Thank you for the compliment by the way.” He heard you say while putting the last plate on its designated place. “Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos.”

He almost choked when he heard those words coming past your lips.

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish.” He explained bashful.

“Tony made me learn quite a handful of languages when I was a kid.” You told him. “Spanish was my favorite by far, I think it’s a very romantic language, don’t you think?”

“It sure is.” Was all he said while turning his body to you.

The both of you didn’t notice how close your bodies were. He could feel the warmth coming from your body, that’s how close he was to you. He could see with clear perfection every lash and every beauty mark on your face. His eyes stopping their path on yours. Joaquín could see the pink glow with perfection and it felt like time stopped.

He wasn’t attracted to your eyes just because of the pink color but because he felt really seen under your gaze. It felt like you were going under every inch and corner of his mind, leaving your mark in it.

And you felt the same thing.

“I-I think it’s quite late, isn’t it?” Your voice brought him back to reality.

He stepped back, instantly missing the warmth of your body. He cleared his throat and sighed.

“Oh right.” He spoke. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Your lips curled and nodded. “Of course.” Your voice came out almost as a whisper. “I’m off to sleep, if you need anything my room is next to yours actually.”

He bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Okay then, sleep well mini Stark.” That damned nickname Thor gave you years ago made your skin tickle. A funny feeling forming inside your chest.

**

Que ojos tan lindos - what beautiful eyes

Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos - I also think you have beautiful eyes

[withwritersblock]

Back to Friends

~Back to Friends by sombr~

Author's note: Requested! A lot of the back story timeline is a little inaccurate but anyways its fan fiction for a reason lmaoo... Also it's a long one with lots of badly written vanilla smut so ummmm yeah. The ending could've been a lot better but ummmm anyways... personally I love this fic but definitely a little all over the place plot wise but enjoy :) Summary: A summer friends with benefits that ends? maybe? Warnings: SMUT 18+, pretty vanilla nothing too crazy lol Word Count: 27,254 Jack Hughes x fm!reader

December 2022

He was in Detroit for the night. He had a game against the Red Wings and would get back to Jersey after two in the morning. But tonight he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t even late, but he always craved a full night's rest before an important game. They were on a three game losing streak and needed a win more than anything.

His phone lit up beside him on the night stand of the hotel bed. He let out a huff of air as he reached for it. He saw a text from Y/N. His eyes widened as he reached for it.

Y/N and Jack have known each other since they were seventeen. While Jack was playing for the developmental league, they met and became instant friends. Her brother used to work for the arena the team had practiced at. In the beginning, there was flirty tension. But for a while after that, there was nothing that ended up spiraling out of it.

She was going to school for soccer and he was on the verge of getting drafted. There was no need. Instead they became close friends. 

Well, she became a close mutual friend. She went to Chapman University for soccer and since she knew Trevor as well. She became good friends with Trevor and with Jack by adjacent. 

Trevor and Y/N were the definition of platonic. She never looked at him in that way and neither did he. It was almost as if they were automatically best friends. But after she graduated from Chapman, she started an on screen reporting job for the BigTen with UMich. She jumped between football and basketball for her reporter duties. 

Jack pulled the phone towards his face, reading the message: Good luck tomorrow! I’ll be there cheering you on! He smiled softly as he read the message over and over. He took a deep breath as he brought the phone towards his ear. It rang a few times before she answered.

“Hey J,” she said cheerfully into the phone. 

“Are you busy right now?” the question left his lips faster than he intended for it. He cleared his throat as he leaned up on his elbows. 

“I’m in bed right now, what are you asking, J?” she asked, laughing awkwardly. 

A wide grin formed on his lips as he tilted his head to the side. A breathy laugh left his lips as he slowly sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed. “Wanna come to my hotel? I can’t sleep,” he asked, his heart slamming against his chest. 

“I probably won’t be there until like 10:30, is that still fine?” she asked as she began to shuffle on her end of the phone. Jack bit his bottom lip as he tilted his head back. 

“Yeah, definitely. If you want to come by,” Jack said as he grinned, hearing her move about on her end of the phone. 

“I’ll be there, send me the address please,” she offered as she drew out the last word. He chuckled as he began to walk towards the bathroom of the hotel.

“Will do, I’ll send you my room number too,” he explained before he hung up the phone. 

He flipped the light switch, letting the LED lights burn his eyes. Jack started typing into his phone, sending her the information. He rested his phone onto the bathroom counter, he looked towards his reflection in the mirror. His hair was messily laid across his forehead. His hair was freshly cut, the shortest it’s been in the past year. 

He walked towards the shower, turning it on. The water shot out, instantly creating steam in the bathroom. He dropped his shorts and quickly stepped inside. His muscles tensed under the hot water cascading over his frame. Slowly tilting his head back, allowing the water to hit his face.

His mind was starting to wander, almost reminding himself of the way he used to think about her. How often her smile lit up a room and how contagious her laughter was for a room. There was a time he did everything in his power to hear her laugh. It was the best sound in the world.

After he got drafted, he was having the hardest year of his life. The NHL was nothing like he had expected. The comments about his abilities were detrimental to his mental health. For a while, the only person who could make him feel better was Y/N. Hearing her voice alone was enough for him to feel better. She even knew what to say to make him feel confident again. 

The summer after his rookie year, she started joining the boys on the boys trip. She fit in like a glove. The three summers since have been the same. Jack wanted to see her more, maybe needed to see her some more. 

After an hour, Jack was waiting for her on his bed. His TV was showing an old romantic comedy from the early 2000s. He couldn’t figure out the title of the film. Instead, his attention was towards his phone. He was scrolling through TikTok patiently waiting for Y/N to show up. 

His phone screen lit up with a FaceTime from Luke. Jack didn’t hesitate to answer it. Luke’s face popped up instantly. “What’s up, Lukey?” he asked as he glanced towards the door, almost expecting her to be here already. It was almost 10:30.

“Do you want to get lunch before your game tomorrow?” Luke questioned as he was walking around his kitchen.

“Yeah definitely, got any ideas?” Jack offered.

“Uhm–” Luke was interrupted as there was a loud knock against Jack’s door. A smile instantly formed on his lips.

“Can we decide this tomorrow Lukey? I gotta go,” Jack offered quickly. 

“Who’s at your door?” Luke asked while chuckling nervously.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said as he hung up the phone. He jogged towards it, looking through the peephole. He saw Y/N standing outside of his door. He grinned as he pulled the door open quickly. 

She was standing outside of his door, her frame covered by a pair of sweatpants and an Anaheim Ducks t-shirt. He shook his head as his grin fell from his lips. “You’re evil,” he mumbled as he reached towards her. Pulling her against his chest as he stumbled backwards into the hotel room. 

A giggle fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around the center of Jack’s back. He rocked her side to side inside of the hotel room, letting the door shut behind them. Her laugh practically echoed in his mind, making his heart flutter slightly. 

“Hey J,” she mumbled against his chest. He ran his hand through her hair soothingly. 

Neither of them pulled away. Staying in each other’s arms for definitely too long. Jack loved the perfume she would always wear. It was a mixture of something floral and sweet. All he knows is that it was intoxicating. 

“I’ve missed you,” Jack whispered into her ear. A soft giggle fell from her lips as she pulled back. Jack’s hands slid off of her frame, slowly dropping them to his side. Awkwardly, she stood in front of him; her gaze avoiding his light eyes.

“I’ve missed you too,” she offered quietly, taking a hesitant step towards him. He shifted his weight form on foot to the other as he watched her avoid his eye. She took a deep breath, “Why didn’t you call your brother? He could’ve kept you company,” she offered.

He chuckled dryly, “I’ll see him tomorrow,”

“You were gonna see me tomorrow,” she said as she stepped towards him. Jack swallowed harshly as he watched her tilt her head up. Their eyes met again, her lips curling upward slightly.

“You’re better company,” he let out shrugging his shoulders. She nodded slowly.

Their eyes remained connected, perhaps saying things that their lips were too afraid to let slip out. Jack’s heart was beating so rapidly as his frame was itching with anticipation. He didn’t know what it was but his gaze lowered towards her lips. Her lips were covered with a clear pink gloss, his mind wandered towards the idea of what it tasted like. If it was a hint of strawberry or if it was just the color of the gloss. 

“J?” she asked softly. 

He began to blink rapidly as he shook his head slightly, “Wanna lay down? Watch a movie, maybe?” he asked, pointing towards the bed. Clearing her throat, she nodded as she began to walk past him towards the bed.

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Jack took a hold of her arm pulling her back towards him. Lifting her head up, a sudden gasp left her lips. Jack leaned down, urgently pressing his lips against hers. At first she didn’t react, the shock froze her body still. 

The moment she began to kiss him back, Jack pulled back. Dropping his arms to the side. Her eyes widened slightly as a wave of heat engulfed her frame.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking–” he let out nervously. He was about to take a step back as she reached towards him, taking a hold of his neck. She pulled him towards her, kissing him with the same sense of urgency. 

He reached towards her waist, pressing her body against his as he began to guide her towards the bed. The backs of her legs hit the mattress, she began to kick off her shoes as their lips remained connected. 

His hands tugged at the t-shirt on her frame. He knew she only wore it to piss him off, it worked. He used the loose ends of the shirt to pull her towards him. Feeling the fabric stretch slightly at his attempt. 

Both of her hands found his hair, tugging at the strands as she craved to get closer to him. He pulled back, his breathing completely unsteady as he took a hold of his own shirt. Taking it off of his frame, he threw it to a random corner in the small hotel room.

She’s seen him shirtless before, more times than she could actually count. But something about the dimly lit hotel room and his shy smile made his muscles look incredible. Her hands glided along his chest, watching the way his body tensed under her touch. His skin was hot as she could feel his heart slamming against his chest.

“Take that off,” he demanded breathlessly. His gaze lowered towards her shirt. She smirked as she tilted her head to the side; almost as a taunt. Jack took a hold of it, pulling her closer to him by the shirt. He smirked as their gaze connected.

He felt drunk by the way her lips kissed his. It was like she knew how to cast a spell over him. “Take that off,” he demanded again. She smirked as she shook her head slightly.

“If you want it gone so bad then take it off of me,” she whispered teasingly. His lips curled up into a cocky grin as he gladly reached towards the shirt on her frame. He tugged it up higher. She assisted in the process. Jack bunched the shirt together and tossed it to the same corner his shirt laid. 

“Oh my god,” he let out barely above a whisper as his eyes scanned her frame. His breath caught in his throat. 

Her chest was now only covered by a black lace bra. He took a delicate hold of the strap against her shoulder. He released it, letting it snap back in place. He’s seen her in bikinis and swimsuits before; but it’s nothing like this. Only his eyes got to see her like this. He took a quick breath, his chest aching from the lack of oxygen in his body. 

Suddenly, she felt self conscious with the way his eyes were roaming her frame. She took a shaky breath as their eyes met again. She dropped her gaze towards the floor. Jack instantly took a hold of her cheeks to force her to meet his eye.

“You’re fucking breathtaking,” Jack let out as he looked deeply into her eyes. The corner of her lips curled upward as he glided his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks. He pressed his lips against hers for only a second. “Don’t ever forget it,” he mumbled against her lips. 

He kissed her urgently again, as they both collapsed onto the bed. Her hands ran through his hair as he held himself up with both of his arms resting on either side of her head. 

Urgently, she bucked her hips up into him; desperate for more contact from him. Her stomach erupted into butterflies as he began to trail wet kisses across her jawline. He continued to lower his lips, swirling his tongue against the skin as he began to suck against the skin. Careful to not leave any marks. 

She pressed her lips together as she tried to prevent a moan climbing in her throat. He pulled away from her neck, looking down towards her. She raised her hand up as she ran her hand from the side of his neck against the curve of his collarbone. 

“I promise I didn’t invite you here for this,” he let out as he scanned her features.

“I know,” she mumbled as she reached towards him again, desperate for his lips against her own again. Their tongues swirled in perfect cadence. Reaching down, he toyed with the band of her sweatpants. Feeling her arch her back into him. He let it snap back against her skin before he delicately grazed his hand up her frame. 

Their lips continued to be sloopily insync more urgently as his boxers were getting tighter and tighter by the second. He thrusted against her clothed center, for a blissful moment of relief. Yet it made him more desperate to see more of her. 

Jack pulled his lips away from hers as he began to trail his lips down her frame. Kissing every inch of her skin on the way down. He pressed his lips against her hip bone, teasingly biting the skin. 

A gasp left her lips while she tilted her head back. Jack pulled at her sweatpants, looking up towards her. 

He watched her in awe as she lifted her hips up. He took that as an invitation, he climbed off of the bed as he pulled them from her frame. He tossed them to the floor. 

Her body was now only covered by her matching lace set. He could come undone just from looking at her so innocently laying on his bed. So innocent and all just for him.

She leaned back on her elbows, breathlessly looking towards him. He took a hold of his own shorts and took them off quickly. She smiled softly as she looked over his frame. Seeing how hard he was beneath his boxers. Her mouth started watering as she scanned his frame back up looking into his eyes. 

He stood at the foot of the bed admiring her frame for a moment. “Wow–” he let out before he climbed on top of her. He looked down towards her, smiling softly. He pressed his lips against hers, she motioned for him to roll onto his back. 

Jack didn’t hesitate as he rolled onto his back. Soon, she straddled his frame. Quickly, grinding slowly, almost teasingly, her hips against his hard clothes frame. He let out a breathy moan that was muffled by her mouth against his. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled while tilting his head back. She smirked as she leaned back, pressing her lips down his neck. Jack bit his bottom lip while she took a hold of the clasp of her bra. 

Quickly, she unclasped it and tossed it from her frame. Jack’s eyes widened as his hands instantly rested on her hips. Slowly squeezing her skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he let out urgently. She bit her bottom lip as she fought off a smile. She dragged her hands across his abs while he took a hold of her hands, pulling her to lean towards him.

She pressed her lips against his as his hands lowered down her frame, gripping her thighs desperately. He thrusted up into her, a breathy moan left her lips. She continued to glide her fingers through his hair. She felt her body start to get overwhelmed with desire, desperate to be completely all his. 

His hands glided along her back, feeling her skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch. “Get on your back,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled back, staring down towards him for a second as she climbed off of his frame. 

The second she laid onto her back, Jack started to climb down her frame. This time pressing his lips teasingly, circling his tongue at a slow pace. He looped his finger beneath the band of her underwear. The delicate touch sent a vibration through her whole body, her vision blurring in the process. He pulled it off of her frame, letting it drop towards the floor. Shutting her eyes, she tilted her head back.

Jack took a hold of her legs, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. Carefully, parting her legs. He smirked to see how wet she was for him.

“So wet for me, huh baby?” He mumbled as he delicately caressed the skin of her hip bone.

Anticipation coursed through her veins as she tilted her head back against the pillow. Desperately waiting for him to do something to her. She craved his touch, his lips, craved everything from him. 

He pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh, carefully and slowly trailing his lips towards her center. 

“Fuck sake, J, please!” she begged as she forced her eyes shut. A breathy laugh left his lips as he looked up towards her. 

“So impatient,” he mumbled as he delicately pressed his thumb against her clit. Slowly, circling his thumb. She squirmed instantly, her back arched. A gasp left her lips as he continued. “So pretty and so impatient,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh. He watched her clamp her mouth shut, silencing the moans fighting to come out.

He leaned towards her, his fingertips grazing her throbbing center. Without hesitation, he slid two fingers inside of her in a teasing manner. A breathy moan left her lips as she tried to silence herself. Slowly, he began to curl his fingers. He smirked as he watched her squirm beneath his touch. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled as her legs began to tightened around him. Jack leaned in taking her clit into his mouth. He began to suck the sensitive bud as he looped one of his arms around her thigh. He squeezed the skin, holding her in place.

A moan finally fell from her lips and Jack felt himself nearly release right there. It was the most beautiful sound he’s heard in a long time. He pulled back, bringing his fingers towards his mouth. After a few seconds, he brought his lips towards her center. Teasingly, he began to swirl his tongue.

He stayed there for a while, pulling her towards her edge. Her breathing was heavy as she continued to silence her own moans; afraid of someone overhearing.

“J, I’m so close,” she mumbled. Jack pulled back, licking his lips clean. A frustrated sigh left her lips as her eyes opened; practically glaring towards him. “Why does every guy stop when a girl says that?” she let out breathily. He chuckled as he finally pulled his boxers from his frame. She looked towards him, her eyes widening as she was breathing heavily. 

“Just wait, baby,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up and down his shaft. A muffled moan fell from his lips as he looked towards her. An imagine he never thought he was going to see. 

He carefully pulled her legs towards the edge of bed as he parted her legs again, He guided himself towards her center, carefully thrusting into her. Another moan fell from her lips as he took a hold of her thigh as he climbed on top of her. 

He thrusted again, a grunt falling from his lips. Their eyes connected as she nodded slightly. He began to quicken his pace. Thrusting faster into her, pressing sloppy kisses against her jawline.

“So good, baby, doing so good,” he mumbled before he kissed her sloppily. Her hands found his hair, tugging the strands. He was right, she was right back at the edge he put her on before. Any second she would unwind. 

Jack pulled his lips away from hers, needing to see what he does to her. He needed to watch how her desire consume her. He was getting dizzy, a smirk toyed to his lips watching her breathlessly keep her moans inside.

“Let me here you, let it out,” he muttered through a grunt. She smirked as she finally let herself let it out. A low moan fell from her lips as she dragged her hands across his upper back, leaving nail scratches in their place. 

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna–J,” she mumbled against his lips. 

With another thrust, she had hit her climax. Her breath caught in her throat as she tilted her head back. She couldn’t hold it back anymore as she let out a loud moan. Jack bit his bottom lip as he continued to guide her through her climax.

“That’s it’s baby,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Oh fuck, oh my god Jac–” she moan out. 

He pressed his lips against her jawline as he tightened his grip on her thigh as he reached his own climax. A stifled his own moan as his entire body flooded with desire. His vision went blurry as he pressed his lips sloppily against her jawline. 

He pulled out as he fell onto his back beside her. Both of them laid silently as they were trying to catch their breath. He tilted his head to the side, looking over her side profile. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip as she took a deep breath. She blinked her eyes harshly back to back. 

Several seconds passed before she turned her head to meet his gaze. A soft giggle falling from her lips. “What?” he asked, fighting a smirk forming on his lips. 

“I cannot believe we just did that,” she let out while shaking her head slightly. 

“It was alright,” he mumbled teasingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she shoved him. He laughed as he reached towards her, pulling her towards him. Her head rested on his chest as he looped his arm around her waist. He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re so annoying,” she mumbled. He hummed dramatically as he began to run his fingers through her hair.

“Should we talk about it?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pressed her lips against his chest as she lifted her head up, meeting his gaze. 

“Just a one time thing right? You live in New Jersey and I live here. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be more than that right?” she explained as she ran her hand across his cheek. He nodded slowly as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

His heart stung in his chest but he forced a grin to his lips, “Can we make it a two time thing? Another round?” he asked teasingly. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“You have a losing streak to snap tomorrow, shouldn’t you be saving some energy?” 

“You just had to remind me, huh?” he asked while shaking his head slightly. 

“I live to keep the Jack Hughes humble,” she shot back. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically as he took a hold of her neck. He pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently.

June 2023

Jack and Y/N’s friendship remained the same like it was before their night together back in December. They slept together and cuddled the entire night. They didn’t say a single word about it when they went to lunch with Luke. However, Jack was convinced Luke had some idea of what had happened. Luke never said anything about it though.

It was as if nothing happened. Their friendship was normal as normal as it could seem. They texted and talked on the phone nearly every day. It was exactly like it used to be. 

But Jack would be lying if he didn’t have plenty of dreams reliving that night. Waking up, wishing she was beside him to fix what he was left with after his wet dreams. But they were friends and friends should not think of other friends like that. 

Today was the start of another summer at the Hughes's lake house. All of the boys wanted to shake off a rough end to the season, craving to let off some steam. While Y/N was frustrated because she was not given a new contract with the Big Ten. She was trying to decide what she wanted to do with her career. This summer was her last chance to enjoy unemployment before she went on a job search. 

The Hughes Brothers were the first ones at the house, making sure the whole place was perfect. Trevor, Cole, and Y/N were on their way. Y/N had promised to pick the other three up from the airport and she texted Jack that she was regretting giving that offer. 

“What time did Y/N say they would be here?” Quinn asked as he wandered back into the living room. Jack tilted his head back looking towards Quinn. A smile formed on Jack's lips at the sound of her name.

“She should be here in like five minutes,” Jack explained as he forced his gaze back towards his phone screen. 

He began to scroll through his Twitter feed, not necessarily reading everything he saw. Mainly trying to keep his mind off of the fact that Y/N was going to be in the same room as him for the first time since Decemeber. Quinn nodded as he wandered back towards the kitchen, leaving Jack alone. Luke was in his room unpacking all of his clothes.

Jack was trying to be cool but he was freaking out. He didn’t know how to be normal knowing that any minute she would walk through that door. Probably wearing something gorgeous since she always looked gorgeous in everything she’s worn; and not worn. 

The front door swung open and Y/N led the charge. “Party’s here!” The three of them shouted as they entered the house. Trevor was carrying six pizzas while dancing towards the kitchen. Completely ignoring Jack who was in the process of standing up from the couch. Cole was holding his phone up playing the pre-chorus of Hot in Herre by Nelly. 

Cole and Y/N were dancing their way inside while leaving their suitcases by the door. Jack stood up from the couch watching Cole and Y/N make complete fools of themselves. Trevor bolted out of the kitchen, “It’s gettin’ hot in here!” Trevor yelled out singing along to the song as he went back towards Y/N and Cole.

The three of them danced and sang loudly. Luke entered the living room, his eyes were wide as he was trying to hold in a laugh. Quinn entered the living room, completely losing balance from laughing. Jack stood up crossing his arms over his chest as he watched three of his favorite people. 

The song faded into another song but Cole placed his phone against the table beside the front door. “You guys are the weirdest people I’ve ever met,” Luke said while laughing. He walked towards Cole first, giving him a quick hug. Cole darted towards Quinn. Luke walked towards Y/N.

“Hey Lukey,” she offered as she gave him a quick hug, “UMich is gonna miss you,” she mumbled as she pulled back.

“They’re gonna miss you too, all of the athletes are going to miss you like crazy. We all thought it was dumb to let you go,” he expressed. She smiled softly as she tilted her head to the side. 

“Thanks Lukey,” she muttered before she saw Quinn walking towards her. “Quinny, how are you?” she asked as she gave him a quick hug. 

“Alive, can’t wait for this break,” he said while chuckling. She pouted her lips as Quinn shifted his attention towards Trevor. 

Y/N looked towards Jack as he was finishing up his quick greeting with Cole. Jack shifted his gaze towards her as he fought off a grin. He scanned her frame, slowly. She walked up towards him.

“Hey J,” she let out softly, feeling her legs start to get weak as she looked over him. 

“Hi Y/N,” he mumbled. Hesitantly, she pulled him in an embrace. He followed in pursuit as his hands loosely looped around her waist. He delicately ran his hand along her lower back. 

She rested her hand on the base of his neck as her body straightened. Her stomach flipped as she felt her breathing catch in her throat. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her ear. A memory of their night together flashed into her mind with his lips so close to her ear. 

She swallowed harshly as she pulled back, her hand glided from his neck, her thumb ran along the side of his neck for a moment before she fully pulled away from him. He pursed his lips forward as he scanned her frame. He shifted awkwardly as he crossed his arms over her chest.

Clearing her throat, she looked into his eyes for a second before she reluctantly stepped away from him. “We have pizza and there is still a load of liquor in the car. Can anyone help me?” She offered while looking around the whole living room.

“I got you,” Jack said quickly before anyone else had a chance to chime in. Their eyes connected and she felt her heart slam against her chest. She lowered her gaze towards the cocky smirk on his lips. She walked backwards, stumbling slightly. She clenched her jaw as she darted outside of the front door.

He smirked as he lowered his gaze towards the floor as he followed after her. She jogged towards the trunk of her car. Instantly, she opened the trunk and stared towards the four paper bags holding all of the alcohol. 

She leaned into the trunk, taking a hold of one of the bags. Jack walked up behind her, a smirk toying to his lips. She froze in place as her body erupted in tingles. She took a shaky breath as she took a hold of another bag. Jack leaned towards her as he reached towards a bag. 

“Thank you for your help,” she said slowly as she walked away from him. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he took the other bag. He shut the trunk as he quickly followed after her. 

She entered the living room hearing echoes from the boys in the kitchen. “Y/N,” Jack called out in a hushed tone. She turned around, meeting his gaze. “Are you okay?”

She looked into his light eyes as she squinted her eyes slightly. “I’m good, good–yeah,” she muttered before she began to walk towards the kitchen. She entered.

“Our alcohol!” Cole cheered loudly. The other boys laughed as Y/N rested her bags onto the center island. Jack walked beside her, resting his bags onto the counter himself. 

It was normal for her and Jack to be close, not necessarily people that hug and cuddle all of the time. But they were not people to not be in close proximity. She never noticed it much before, or cared much before. Now that they’ve hooked up, she was hyper aware of his presence. The way her body erupted in goosebumps and tingles any time his body was close against her.

She began to pull out the different bottles. Jack stood beside her, their arms bumping against one another as he started pulling out the other bottles. “We’re thinking about going on the boat in a few, you two down?” Quinn asked before he shoved a bite of food into his mouth. 

Y/N glanced towards Jack and back down towards the overwhelming amount of alcohol in front of them. “I’m always down,” she offered as she stared towards the comically large vodka bottle. 

Jack looked over her frame for a second, “Yeah for sure,” he expressed before he looked towards Luke. Luke nodded slowly, his cheeks pinking up as he glanced towards Y/N. 

It was a couple hours later and it was safe to say that most of them were pretty tipsy. She was sitting in one of the corners of the boat. Her swimsuit was covered by an oversized pink hoodie. 

The music has progressively gotten quieter as the hours progressed. Now everyone was starting to get tired as the sun was starting to set. She had her knees pulled up towards her chest.

Their conversations progressively started getting quieter as the sun was starting to create a stunning orange glow over the water. Quinn and Trevor were laughing loudly at something Trevor had said.

Her gaze continued to wander towards Jack. He was sitting on the opposite end of the boat. His frame was covered in a dark blue hoodie but it was once showing off his tanned body. He was talking with Luke,  from afar the conversation seemed serious. Or at least it appeared to be that way.

Cole was laying down beside her. His feet were dangling over the ledge of the boat. His head rested beside her thigh. Every so often she would glance down to see Cole half asleep. His arms were crossed over his chest. 

“Y/N,” Cole whispered. She forced her gaze away from Jack as she looked down towards him. He waved his finger towards her. She squinted her eyes slightly as she leaned towards him. Slowly, she tilted her head to the side, allowing him to whisper in her ear. “Did something happen with you and Jack?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pulled back, her eyes widening.

“Why are you asking me that?” she asked softly. He chuckled as he shrugged slightly, his eyes shutting in the process.

“Because this is usually his spot and he’s busy lecturing Luke about what it takes to be in the NHL,” Cole explained, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “Did you guys get into an argument?”

“No, we’re good,” she mumbled as she shifted her gaze back towards Jack across from them. His gaze was already looking in her direction. The corner of his lips curled upward as he looked into her eyes. He bit his bottom lip as he continued to look in her direction.

Shyly, she dropped her gaze towards her lap. Cole was looking towards her suspiciously. “What?” she asked barely above a whisper.

“Did you two–” he trailed off as he nodded slowly, trying to insinuate something. Her lips parted slightly as the skin of her cheeks heated up instantly. Her lack of defense was enough for him to believe it. “Oh we have so much to talk about later,” Cole offered while chuckling.

“You guys ready to head back? I’m getting cold,” Quinn called out as he began walking back towards the driver seat.

Y/N looked down towards Cole who was fighting off a wide grin. The boys all started making fun of Quinn. While Cole and Y/N were staring towards one another. “We have nothing to talk about, Cole,” she offered while nodding slowly. He chuckled as he shut his eyes.

Quinn began to drive the boat back towards the dock. 

“Cole, I’m serious,” she mumbled. 

“Okay,” he sing songed, “But you two aren’t really keeping it to yourselves,”

“Shut up, Cole,” she let out while laughing.

~~~

She was laying on her bed, struggling to fall asleep. Her mind was busy, nearly impossible to make it quiet. It was a one time thing. They were fine the next day, and didn't even act like it happened. Sure, the faint feeling of his lips against hers was all she could think about that day. But it was normal.

Nothing felt normal. Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time they were sleeping under the same roof since. She let out a huff of air as she stared towards the ceiling. Tossing the blanket low on her frame, her body starting to overheat.

Out of nowhere there was a soft kock on her door. She took a hold of her phone to check the time. It was a little after midnight. She sighed as she tossed the blanket away from her frame. She walked towards the door and pulled it open. Jack was standing outside of her door, a pair of sweatpants being the only thing covering his frame. 

“What are you doing, J?” she asked softly. 

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously. She nodded, stepping aside letting him walk into her room. She shut the door, pressing her back against the door. He walked towards the center of the room; his gaze towards the floor. 

She didn’t say anything. Instead she was admiring the way his back muscles tensed as he breathed heavily. After a few seconds he spun around, resting his hands onto his hips. 

“So you and Cole were pretty close today, huh?” he let out as he continued to avoid her gaze. She squinted her eyes slightly as she pursed her lips forward.

“Haven’t seen him in a year. It was good to catch up,” she offered as she nervously ran her fingers through her hair.

“I meant–like–on the boat. You two were pretty close,” he said as he finally lifted his head up to meet her gaze. Her heart jumped into her throat as her knees suddenly felt weak. 

“Are you jealous that I was hanging out with Cole?” she questioned, a smirk toying her lips.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” he offered as he took a step towards her. Her posture straightened as she continued pressing her back against the door. Almost afraid that if she pulled away she would collapse under his gaze. 

“Right ‘cause we’re completely normal,” she pressed her lips together while breathing started to become difficult. He stopped a couple of steps away from her, watching her intently. He saw the way she was frozen in place; he knew why.

“Right because nothing happened between us,”

“Nope,”

“So I can’t be jealous that you and Cole were flirting for hours on the boat earlier,” he offered before dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. He raised his hand up and dragged it across his chin.

She brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear as she continued to look into his darkening eyes. “We weren’t flirting,” 

“Right because his head was practically in your lap. You were laughing a lot, totally not flirting,” 

“His head was not in my lap and he’s funny. Am I supposed to not laugh at something funny?” she said dryly. 

“He’s not that funny,” 

“Why do you care if I am laughing with Cole?” 

“I don’t,” he said bluntly.

“Then why are you–”

He interrupted her by taking a hold of both of her cheeks and kissing her urgently. There was not an ounce of hesitation as she began to kiss him back. Her hands planted onto his chest as he shoved his knee between her legs. His hands slipped from her cheeks as he rested them against the door beside her head to pin her against it.

Her hands glided through his hair, needing him closer. She took a hold of the ends of her shirt, pulling her lips away from his in the process. She tossed it towards the floor to reveal her bare chest. 

Jack instantly connected their lips again as he took a hold of her waist to pull her against his chest. He reached behind her twisting the lock on the door, he didn’t need any surprises. Reaching down he took a hold of her thighs; she jumped up assisting him in the process. Not once did their lips part. Her hands held his head in place, desperate for his lips to stay on hers.

Jack carried her towards the bed and delicately placed her down onto the bed. He stood at the foot of the bed, quickly sliding his sweats down his body. He smirked as he climbed on top of her again.

Their noses brushed as she took a hold of his neck. She delicately ran her thumb along the side of it. Jack hummed as he looked into her eyes, “What?” he let out breathily. 

She shook her head slightly before she pulled him towards her by his neck. He let out a breathy moan that was muffled by her mouth. Slowly, pulling his lips from hers he began to trail his lips down her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him more space.

“Gotta be quiet, yeah? Can’t let them know what we’re doing,” he whispered into her ear. She couldn’t form any words; instead she hummed before she bit her bottom lip. He smirked as he pressed wet kisses down her neck, towards her chest. His eyes lit up in the process.

~~~

She forced him out of her room not long after they hooked up. She was afraid that if he fell asleep in her room then it would be suspicious to everyone in the house. Jack was notorious for sleeping in and it would be difficult for him to sneak out. 

Although, she did feel guilty kicking him out like that. After all, he was the one that snuck into her room to begin with. She laid in the center of the bed, staring towards the ceiling. Her mind was replaying every single moment from the night before. 

The way his hands grazed her skin and the way her back would arch into him. The way his lips and tongue knew exactly what to do to make her feel dizzy. She didn’t know how long the whole night lasted, she knew that it was more than once. 

There was a soft knock on her door, she sat up. Pressing her back against the wall behind her she called out, “Come in,”

She watched as Jack peaked his head into the room. Her eyes widened slightly before she pulled the comforter tighter to her body. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked towards her, stopping short near the bed. 

“We need to talk about this,” Jack offered.

She shook her head slowly, “No we don’t. That was a one time thing,” she said in a hush tone.

“Decemeber was a one time thing, last night means it’s gonna happen again so we need to set boundaries,” he offered as he sat down on the bed, their faces a near inch away from one another.

“How do you know it’s gonna happen again?” she offered teasingly, her gaze trailing towards his shirtless frame. He tilted his head to the side as he pursed his lips forward, his own eyes admiring her lips. Her perfect lips that he could stare at all day.

After a few seconds of silence, Jack leaned towards her, kissing her. It was slow, nothing like last night’s urgency. Their tongues connected as he was slowly gliding his hand to the base of her neck.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, “Because of that,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against hers again for a few seconds. He took a sudden breath, “So we need boundaries,”

She nodded as she leaned back, her head tilting back against the wall. “Okay, what ideas do you have?” she offered quietly.

“None of them can know,” he waved his hand behind them towards the door. She nodded, keeping the secret that Cole figured out it’s happened once. “Your turn,” he mumbled. 

Her mouth fell open for a second before she clamped it shut. She took a deep breath, “No sleepovers,” she let out, “If it happens then there is no cuddling afterwards,” 

He nodded slowly, “Okay, uhm–” he thought about it for a second, “We can’t avoid each other outside of this room, right? It’ll look suspicious.”

She nodded, “Feelings can’t get involved, the second something is different. We stop,” 

“What do you mean by feelings?”

“I don’t know, like if we start seeing each other as more than–” she trailed off as she avoided his gaze. 

“Yeah, I agree,” he muttered before he took a deep breath. He tilted his head back, trying to think if there was anything else to add. “I’m out,” he let out breathily. 

“Me too,” she mumbled. 

“Good,” he muttered as his gaze lingered on her lips. He smirked before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” he muttered against her lips before he kissed her again. He stood up as he began walking towards the door.

“Wait, I have another one,” she called out, standing up from the bed, stumbling slightly as she nearly tripped over the comforter. He spun around, nodding allowing her to continue. “You can’t kiss me goodbye,” 

He chuckled awkwardly, “So the plan is we just have incredible sex and then I am not supposed to cuddle you or kiss you goodbye afterwards?” he said sarcastically. She nodded as she walked towards him. “That makes me like a complete douche, you know,”

“Well, it’s just two friends having sex, right?” she offered as she rested her hands onto her hip. He nodded as his gaze was lingering on her lips. Her eyes widened as she tossed her hands to the side. “I need a verbal answer, J!” 

He tossed his head back, “Just two friends who have incredible sex,” he let out barely above a whisper before he snuck out of the room, leaving her alone in the center of the bedroom. A sudden laugh fell from her lips as she shook her head.

July 2023

She walked through the main doors of the lake house to see all of the boys scattered around the living room. She pulled her sunglasses from her face, while carrying two dozen donuts in her hands. “What’s that for?” Jack called out as he walked towards her. She smiled softly towards him as he took both of the boxes from her. He began walking towards the kitchen.

All of the boys followed after them. “My birthday is tomorrow so I wanted to treat you guys to some amazing donuts,” she mumbled as she leaned agains the doorway. Jack rested the boxes onto the counter while opening it instantly. 

“Have we figured out a plan to celebrate?” Cole asked as he stole a chocolate long john. He smirked towards Quinn who was reaching for the same one. 

“My siblings are driving up for the night. My sister can finally get in the clubs out here, it’ll be perfect,” she offered with a grin. 

“Isn’t she like twenty,” Jack asked as he handed a donut towards her. It was her favorite. She smiled towards him for a second.

“Luke’s twenty,” she mumbled, “And he and Carlee got fakes at the same time. So we know it works,” she said softly.

“You know Y/N’s sister?” Jack asked with a mouthful. 

Luke shrugged nonchalantly, “She dated Matty for a while when he was still at UMich,” he said, “Thanks for these,” he said towards Y/N as he carried his two donuts out of the kitchen. 

Y/N took a bit of her own donut as she glanced towards Cole who was staring towards her suspiciously. “Festivities for your birthday start tonight by the way,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen. Quinn and Trevor were quick to follow after him, leaving Jack and Y/N.

She met Jack’s gaze, squinting slightly. “What did he mean by that?” she asked quietly. He shrugged as he walked around the counter towards her. He stepped up towards her, his gaze scanning her features.

“What are you doing in the next twenty minutes?” he asked, trying to be discreet but he failed miserably. 

“I was going to eat this donut and then maybe another one, perhaps another one after that. Then I was going to shower,” she explained. He chuckled dryly as he glanced towards the living room, none of the boys were in his line of sight. He assumed it meant that they were gone. 

“Want help in that second part?” he asked barely above a whisper. She fought a smile forming on her lips.

“Sure you want to see me after three–” she began but he pushed her delicately to stop her.

“I’ll be waiting,” He leaned towards her, purposely brushing his lips against her ear. She cleared her throat as her body straightened. She took another bite of her donut while rolling her eyes playfully. 

She finished her snacks before she walked into the living room to see Cole was sitting in the corner of the couch. He was smirking as he watched her walk towards the hallway. “Is there any reason why Jack hasn’t brought any girls back to the house this summer?” he called out.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her hands landing on her hips. Slowly, she spun on her heels. She saw Cole resting his head onto the top of the couch. He looked towards her expectantly. 

“No idea,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“Why haven’t you brought anyone back here?” he asked teasingly. He smirked towards her. 

“Why haven’t you?” she shot back. 

He chuckled softly as he tapped his hands against the top of the couch, “Oh I have, you and Jack have just been too busy disappearing for the last month to notice,” he teased.

She shrugged, “I haven’t been disappearing, I don’t know about J though,” she let out nonchalantly as she continued down that hallway. 

“Sure,” Cole drew out the word as he shifted his gaze towards the TV. He turned it on to put on  the new show he was starting to watch. 

She took a deep breath as she walked towards her bedroom. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Instantly, her back was pressed against the wall beside the door. It was slowly shutting beside her as she looked into Jack’s eyes. She fought off a smirk as he tilted his head to the side watching it shut. 

A soft giggle rose up in her throat, Jack raised his finger up. Carefully, pressing it against her lips; asking her to be quiet. She pressed her lips against his finger as he twisted the lock in the process.  Slowly, he glided his hand along her jawline before he rested his hand on the base of her neck. 

“You gotta be more careful,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his shirt, pulling him towards her, craving his lips on hers. He smirked before he kissed her urgently. Their tongues connected as a breathy moan fell from his lips. He looped his thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans as he pulled her towards him.

“J, I’m serious,” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled back while toying with the buttons of her jeans. Slowly, she ran her hands from his neck down his chest. “Cole’s asking questions,” 

“Let him ask questions,” he whispered before he pressed his lips beneath her ear. He began to suck and swirl his tongue to soothe the skin. He parted her legs as he shoved his knee between them, feeling her weaken beneath his touch. 

“You can’t do that,” she mumbled as she tugged at the strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

“I can’t?” he asked teasingly. She hummed as a reply. “What about this?” he asked teasingly as he unbuttoned her jeans.

“I seriously have to go shower, J,” she mumbled breathlessly. Jack pressed his lips against her collarbone, before he tilted his head back looking into her eyes. He watched as her eyes dilated the longer their eyes met. “Follow me in five minutes,” she mumbled as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

He smirked as he watched her take a hold of a random t-shirt and shorts as she slipped out of the door. He stiffled a laugh as he quietly hit his fist against the wall in front of him. He pressed his head against the wall for a second.

He jumped out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He crossed the hallway towards his own bedroom, trying to be as sneaky as possible. 

Some of their rules and boundaries fell apart pretty early in their arrangement. Jack couldn’t help but kiss her goodbye, desperate for one last intimate moment. At least until their next intimate moment. 

He was falling for her, falling so hard. But she wasn’t allowed to know that or she would end their beautiful arrangement. He was somewhat convinced that the second she found out the feelings he was having; she would run the opposite direction.

The second their arrangement ends, their whole friendship will fall apart. He knows that. He knows that this either ends with a relationship or as strangers. He was more prepared for one rather than the other.

He’s stayed the night a few times after their nights together. Her back would be pressed against his chest. His hands would delicately graze along her stomach as she would run her hand along the top of his hand. His lips were pressing against the skin of her shoulder. 

He took a hold of his swim trunks and walked towards the bathroom that Y/N prefers. He stepped inside, hearing the shower already running. Quickly, she took a hold of the shower curtain and peeked her head out to see Jack walking inside. 

Without hesitation, he took a hold of his shirt and instantly tossed it to the floor. Instantly, he took off of his shorts and stepped into the shower with her. He smirked as he scanned her frame. 

Her hands instantly took a hold of his cheeks, pulling him towards her. She pressed her lips against his urgently. He hummed against her lips as he guided her backwards. The steaming water started cascading over his body as his hands began to roam over her wet frame. 

With their lips still connected, he lowered his fingers down her wet skin. He took two of his fingers and began to rub her clit slowly. A small gasp left her lips as she pulled back slightly. Jack grinned as he continued to tease her as he rubbed her clit so slowly. She tilted her head back, holding back a breathy moan. 

He leaned towards her, his lips pressing against her jawline. He carefully touched her center feeling how wet she was for him. He bit the skin beneath her jawline before he circled his tongue soothingly. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support. 

“What do you want, mhm?” he whispered in her ear as he returned his fingers towards her clit. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip as she tilted her head back. Her eyes shut instantly.

“Please,” she begged barely above a whisper. He smirked as entered her center with two of his fingers. He pressed his body into hers as he pushed her against the wall. A moan fell from her lips. Jack’s eyes widened as he took a hold of her chin, silencing her moans with his mouth. 

“What do you want?” he whispered against her lips. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked towards him through wet eyelashes. He curled his fingers inside of her, feeling her react against his body. 

She looked so innocent looking towards him like that, so desperate. He continued to curl and thrust his fingers into her, hearing her breathily moan in his ear, feeling her body tighten under his touch. 

“I need you,” she mumbled out.

“Yeah?” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out, he instantly took a hold of his length. He ran his hand up and down a few times, his breath catching in his throat. He looked back towards her, meeting her gaze.

“Please J,” she tilted her head back against the tile behind her. He guided himself to her center, thrusting into her slowly; letting her get used to him. Jack kept her body pinned against the wall as he continued to thrust slowly into her. She took a hold of his cheeks, forcing him to kiss her; otherwise everyone in the house would know what they do behind closed doors.

Jack used one of his hands and began to circle her clit and apply pressure as he continued to thrust into her. A surge of desire coursed through her body. Her body shuttered as she dragged her hands across his upper back. Her nails digging into his skin for only a moment.

He liked hearing her desire and pleasure pour from her mouth. No matter how muffled they needed to be, it was everything for him to know what he was doing to her.

“Fuck,” he let out through a soft groan. He moved his hand away from her clit, supporting her body. He pulled his lips away from hers for a second while he admired the short breaths leaving her lips. He watched her tilt her head back and bite her bottom lip. 

A moan fell from her lips, it was starting to get difficult to remain quiet. Desperately, he leaned towards her with an open mouth kiss.

“I’m so close,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Doing so good, baby, so fucking good,” he whispered back as he thrusted into her harder. 

A breathy moan of his own falling from his lips as they couldn’t kiss each other anymore. Their faces were still pressed against one another. 

He could feel her tighten around him, her breath caught in her throat as she tossed her head back, her hands holding Jack’s head in place. “Jack,” she mumbled out. 

His name never fell from her lips like that. She never would say it fully, hearing it fall from her lips like that was practically enough for him to be sent over the edge.

After a few seconds, he reached his climax. He pressed sloppy kisses against her jawline as she was letting out short breaths as she was riding out her own climax. Jack took a hold of both of her hips. 

He didn’t pull out right away as he watched her breathing start to slow. She pulled him towards her, kissing him instantly. He couldn’t breath but he didn’t care, all he wanted was to do it again and never stop. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled against her lips as he finally pulled out. He leaned down and rested his head against the crook of her neck. He let out a giggle as he began to let his hands roam her frame. “We need to do this more often,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against her neck.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, “Yeah,” she mumbled.

~~~

The following morning, they were in bed together. No matter how late they were up the night before, Jack would sneak out of her room a little after seven every day. None of the other boys in the house were going to be awake for several hours but they would rather be safe than sorry.

Her head rested on his chest as her arms were practically looped around his body. She was dead asleep but Jack was wide awake. His alarm wouldn’t go off for another thirty minutes. He grazed his fingertips along the skin of her back, every so often running his fingers through her hair. He would slowly twist the strands between his finger tips.

He brushed a few pieces away from her face, his fingertips glided along her forehead. She stirred slightly under his touch. Delicately, she pressed her lips against his chest. His whole body tightened, his heart started slamming against his chest. 

Slowly, she ran her hand along his chest. “Good morning,” she mumbled as she kept her head on his chest. His eyes shut as the corner of his lips curled upward. He could get used to waking up like this. 

“Morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against the top of her head. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed as her eyes fluttered closed again.

“I could sleep a little longer but someone’s heart is beating a thousand times a minute,” she mumbled as she sat up slightly. She looked down towards Jack. Her hair falling into her face as she scanned his sleepy features.

Raising his hand up, he brushed her hair away from her face, he tucked the pieces behind her ear. “Was it?” he mumbled. She nodded as his hand ran along her bare back. Her body straightened as goosebumps erupted all over her frame. “Sorry,” he let out, his lips in a soft smile.

She smiled towards him as she laid back down, this time resting her head in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” she mumbled as she pressed her lips against his neck. Their legs entangled together instantly. “What’s got it beating so fast?” she asked quietly.

“No idea,” he said. “I can sneak out now, if you want more sleep,”

“No, no, stay,” she tightened her grip along his center. He smiled widely as he took a deep breath. “Please,” she whispered into his ear. 

“Okay,” he whispered.

A soft giggle fell from her lips, “Are you excited to go back to Jersey?” she asked softly as her eyes remained shut.

“Something like that,”

“What does that mean?” she asked as Jack teasing ran his hand along the curve of her ass. 

“Jersey is so far from here,” he mumbled as he ran his hand along her arm.

“But it’s Lukey’s rookie year,” she offered. He let out a small groan. “J, it’ll be okay,” she said half heartedly; used to his dramatics.

“But you and our arrangement are in Michigan,” he mumbled. 

“That’s true,” she mumbled as she lifted her head up, she looked down towards him. He raised his hand up, running his hand along his cheek. “Two more incredible weeks, J.” 

“Two more,” he mumbled as he swallowed harshly, his heart started beating rapidly against his chest. “Have you started looking for new jobs?” He jumped on topics, afraid of talking about their situation. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath. 

“It’s going,” she let out while laughing slightly. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she mumbled. He chuckled as she leaned down and slammed her lips against his. He was shocked for a second as she climbed onto his lap as she kissed him slowly. 

“Why are you avoiding talking about it?” he said as he pushed her back delicately. 

“‘M not,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his cheeks pulling her back towards him.

His eyes widened as he pushed her back, “It’s your birthday, happy birthday,” he let out urgently. 

A grin formed on her lips, “Oh yeah, it is, isn't it?” she mumbled as she ran her hand along his chest. His hands rested on her hips, his gaze lingering on her bare chest in front of him. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Thank you, J,”

He let out a long breath as a small smile formed on his lips, “How about we start your birthday off on the right track?” he said softly as he continued to glide his hands along her hips. 

His grip tightened along her hips as he tossed her down onto her back. A gasp fell from her lips as she kept her hands onto his chest. He leaned down towards her, hovering his lips over hers. 

There was a loud knock against her door. Jack leaned back, looking behind him towards the door. “Y/N wake your ass up!” Trevor shouted as he started blasting Birthday Bitch by Trap Beckham. 

Jack’s mouth fell open as he tried to stop himself from laughing. “Fuck it up if it’s your birthday, bitch! Fuck it up if it’s your birthday, bitch!” Trevor and Cole started singing loudly outside her door. 

“Go hide,” she whispered towards him, smacking her hands against his chest. He smirked down towards her, leaning down he pecked her lips for a few seconds. Jack hopped off of her frame as soft giggles fell from his lips. 

She followed in pursuit. He leaned down and collected his clothes. He jogged towards the walk in closet. The second he shut the door, he began to cover himself with the pajamas he had on last night. 

It didn’t take long for her to be completely clothed. The boys outside her door were still loudly yelling the lyrics. She pulled the door open, “One time for the birthday bitch, two times for the birthday bitch, three times for the birthday bitch!” They seemed to sing louder once they saw her laughing towards them. 

She tossed her head back, laughing as she saw Cole carrying a comically large plate of pancakes. It was covered in strawberries and chocolate syrup. He was shaking back and forth, shimming slightly as he held the plate towards her with a singular candle on top. Trevor was holding the speaker above his head as he was also recording Y/N’s reaction. 

“Blow out the candle and come into the living room,” Cole offered as he continued to shift the plate back and forth. She giggled before she blew out the candle. Trevor cheered before he stopped recording. He turned down the song as he stepped into the room. 

He quickly wrapped his arms around her. “Happy birthday, roomie,” he whispered into her ear. He pulled back as he smiled towards her. Her eyes widened as she grinned. 

“Shut up, really?” she mumbled. He winked towards her.

He nodded as he pointed for them to leave the room. She nodded as she followed after the pair. Her eyes widened as she saw her sister and her brother standing in the living room. “Oh my god!” she called out. She ran towards her older brother, Oliver, first. “I was supposed to come and get you guys later today!” she called out as she hugged Carlee instantly.

“We’ve got a day full of plans, Y/N. We weren’t going to make you drive us up here,” Carlee said while laughing. 

“What the hell was all that noise?” Jack said as he emerged from the hallway. His frame was fully clothed and he was acting extremely sleepy. Their eyes connected for a second before Jack let out a sudden laugh. “Ollie! I have been begging Y/N to get your ass to the house,” Jack said while laughing. He jogged towards him, hugging him instantly. Oliver chuckled while he instantly returned the hug.

“Hey Jack, we didn’t want her to waste her day on driving three hours to retrieve us,” he explained as he pulled back. “And unfortunately, I’ve got a job that practically forbids taking time off. Otherwise I would be here, Y/N’s knows that,” he said while laughing.

Jack simply nodded before looking towards Carlee, “Little Y/L/N!” he let out as he held his hand up from a high five. She returned it while rolling her eyes playfully.

~

Her door was open as she was getting ready for the club. It was a little after nine and she was still finishing her hair. There was a soft knock on the door frame of her door. She spun around to see Trevor standing at the doorway. “Hey Trev,” she said as she forced her gaze back towards the mirror in front of her. 

“So you’re all set to start working on August 15th,” he offered in a hushed tone. She spun around, resting her straightener onto the vanity. She climbed off of the chair and jogged towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, shutting her eyes. He lifted her off of the ground for a second as a soft laugh left his lips.

“It’s only temporary while you’re getting your master’s but it’ll get you more experience. It’s not on screen but you’ll be working for a professional team,” he explained as she pulled away. She sniffled as she tilted her head back, she couldn’t let tears fall onto her cheek. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said through a crack in her voice. He smiled as he shook his head. “Are you sure I can stay in your extra room?”

“Of course, just save up every cent you get. It’s going to be awesome to have you back in Anaheim,” he let out ecstatically as she leaped towards him, desperate to hug him again. He giggled as he held her tightly to his chest. “It’ll be so fun, roomie,” he offered teasingly. 

“You can’t tell anyone yet, especially not J and my siblings. Okay?” she begged. He nodded instantly, pretending to zip his lips shut. 

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” Trevor said as he turned out of her room. She practically skipped back towards the vanity. 

Jack couldn’t make out what they were talking about. But all he understood was that there was a lot of hugging and laughing. Even though he swore he watched her wipe a tear away from her cheek.

His entire body felt overheated, his chest was heavy as he watched them interact. What was so secret that she had to go to Trevor about it? What did he have that Jack didn’t? Despite everything in his frame, begging to slam the door shut; he shut it delicately as he walked towards the seltzer on his dresser.

He instantly brought the can towards his lips as he began to chug the drink. He realized pretty quickly, he was going to need a lot more drinks to pretend like he doesn’t care about what just happened between them. 

He brought his cologne towards his chest, he sprayed it on either side of his neck  and then lower on his frame. He took a deep breath as he rested it onto the top of the dresser. He took his empty can, squeezing it in his hand before he reached towards the door.

He swung it open as he stormed out of his room. He continued to take deep breaths as he avoided the gaze of all of the people gathered in the living room. He needed more, stronger, liquid courage to pretend everything was normal and okay. Pretend that he’s completely okay with his soulmate hugging and giggling with his best friend. 

He poured out a shot of tequila and instantly tossed it back. He didn’t wince at the taste as he poured himself another one. He rested the large glass bottle onto the counter top as he stared at the small red solo cup in front of him. 

“I thought you hated tequila,” she mumbled as she leaned her head against the door frame. He kept his gaze on the full shot in front of him. His grip tightened on the counter while he shrugged his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He nodded before he took a hold of the shot and tossed it back. He didn’t react as he took the small plastic shot glass and tossed it into the trash. He lifted his gaze up from the floor, meeting her eye.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she watched him clench his jaw for a second. She watched as the wheels turned in his head, “Are you okay, J?” she asked again while stepping deeper into the kitchen.

She watched as his body practically says fuck it while he pushed away from the counter. He walked directly towards her and took a hold of her head in his hands while he kissed her hard. Stumbling back, she took a hold of his arms for stability. It took her by surprise but she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

The kiss didn’t last long since Jack pulled back almost as fast as he kissed her. It felt like all of her blood rushed to her head and the alcohol in her system took front and center. He kept his hold of her cheeks for a moment, his breathing fast as he was running his thumb along the apples of her cheeks.

Stepping back, he ran his hand along his chin. He walked past her, leaving her frozen in place; in utter shock at what just occurred.

Her shaky hand reached towards the cabinet for stability, her legs suddenly weak beneath her. Looking behind her, she assumed that no one saw what just occurred as they were exactly how she left them. She took a much needed deep breath as she practically stumbled towards the fridge. 

She pulled the fridge open and pulled out another White Claw. She didn’t hesitate as she popped the tab open and brought the drink towards her lips. She walked out of the kitchen towards the living room.

“Finish that drink, asap, we’ve got the Ubers like down the street,” Trevor offered. Her eyes widened as she looked towards Jack who was staring towards his phone in his hand. She nodded before she brought the White Claw to her lips. She began chugging. The entire room beside Jack started cheering for her. She crushed it after she was done and giggled. 

Her gaze lingered on Jack but no one noticed, or cared, at the way she was staring towards him. A sigh fell from her lips as she allowed him to ignore her. 

For the next several hours, her and Carlee were the ones at the center of the nightclub’s dance floor. The boys were all hanging on the outside of the dance floor keeping an eye on the pair. A few girls would walk up towards them, begging for their attention. All of the boys except Jack were taking the bait.

A blond girl parked her way in front of him, “You look lonely,” she shouted towards him. He shrugged as he looked past her, seeing Y/N dance and spin almost as if in slow motion. “Your friends all left you alone,” she called out. She drunkenly rested her hand onto his knee. 

The second she touched him, he forced his gaze towards her. “I’m not available!” he shouted towards her. He stood up from his bra stool chair as he slipped away from her. 

Y/N and Carlee were singing and swaying along to the songs. They were both ecstatic that they were able to do this now. Despite it not necessarily being legal. They spent most of their young adolescent years imagining what it would be like to dance drunk side by side in a sweaty night club. Just them two against the world.

Y/N leaned towards Carlee, “You have to get back out there! Go meet someone!” she shouted. Carlee shyly shook her head as she continued to dance to the beat of the song. “Come on! It’s been too long since you’ve gotten any action!” she called out. Carlee pouted her lips as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“What about you? You go find someone!” Carlee delicately pushed Y/N back slightly. 

“I have someone,” she said, unsure if Carlee heard her, “Go find someone!” Y/N said, pushing Carlee away from her. She spun around, expecting to just continue dancing alone. She was surprised to see Jack in front of her. She grinned as she saw him. “Hey! Where’ve you been!?” she called out.

He shrugged as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. He scanned her frame, truly for the first time that night. His mind was too busy to notice how incredibly stunning she looked. Her frame was only covered by a skin tight short black dress. It was glittery and she was practically reflective from the dark blue club lights.

He leaned towards her ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t say this sooner but you look fucking stunning,” he pulled back, watching her eyes lit up from the words leaving his lips. 

“Dance with me!” she shouted towards him, taking a hold of his dark blue button up. It was only buttoned to the middle of his chest. 

“The others could see us!” he shouted. 

“Let it be a drunken dance!” she shouted as she pulled him closer to her. He didn’t hesitate another second as he looped his arms around her waist. They began to dance insync their bodies pressed against one another. 

They stayed facing one another, dancing to the beat of the song as their faces were near inch away from one another. He smiled softly every time their eyes would connect. 

After a few songs passed, she began to spin away from him. Her first intention was to walk away from him, craving another drink. Instead, Jack pulled her back towards him, forcing her back against his chest. 

“Stay,” he whispered into her ear before he brushed her hair away from her neck. 

“Please stay,” he whispered as he pressed his lips beneath her ear. She tilted her head back as her breathing quickened. She didn’t argue, she didn’t want to leave. She craved their bodies to be pressed against one another; moving perfectly together. Almost as if their bodies were made for one another.

“So fucking stunning,” he whispered into her ear as his hands seemed to pull her tighter to his frame. She grinned widely as she leaned into him fully, letting him take control of the way their bodies moved.

~~~

The rest of the night was a blurr. She barely remembered dancing with Jack for the night. Barely remembered how she got back to the house, barely remembered how she ended up in her bed. She had her pajamas on and was alone. 

It’s been several weeks since the last time she woke up alone. Every day in the last three weeks, she was curled up in Jack’s arms. Waking up alone shocked her. 

It was eight in the morning and the rest of the group was still asleep, well besides her brother and sister. They had to head back to their hometown early and Y/N was barely awake enough to say goodbye. 

Her hair was soaking wet from the twenty minute shower she took. It was mainly to fix the raging hangover she was feeling. She gave Oliver and Carlee one more quick hug before she watched them walk down the porch towards his car in the driveway. 

Oliver had a few questions for her, mainly about how her and Jack were inseparable for the entire night. She claimed that she barely remembers dancing with him and that it was probably because they were too drunk to even know what they were doing.

Which was not entirely a lie but she didn’t know how to tell her brother that she was hooking up with Jack and that she was falling for him. 

But she stood in the living room and spun around to hear steps charging towards her. “Was that Ollie?” Jack said as his voice rasped as he spoke. “I wanted to say bye before he left.”

“He had to get on the road early. I’m sorry,” she mumbled. He nodded as he scanned her frame. He took a deep breath as he awkwardly adjusted his shorts on his frame. “You slept in your own room last night,” she observed as she awkwardly brushed her hair away from her face. 

“You were really out of it. Thought you were better off alone,” he began walking away from her. He let out a huff of air as he started down the hallway. 

Clenching her fists as she followed after him, “Are you mad at me?” she called out after him. He spun on his heels as he let out a dry laugh.

“I’m not mad at you,” he let out somewhat harshly. He rounded the corner, he walked into her room; somewhat reluctantly. 

“I’ve been out of it before and you’ve slept in my bed, what’s so different about last night?” she explained as she followed after him. He shut the door behind her, pressing her back against the door. 

Instantly, he kissed her hard. She arched her back into him as his hands gripped her waist tightly. He took a hold of the tanktop and tugged it up her frame. “J–stop,” she let out, pushing him back. A soft laugh falling from her lips. “What is wrong?” he shook his head as he leaned towards her again, urgently trying to kiss her again. 

She raised her hand up, taking a delicate hold of his neck to stop him. He flung his head back, a huff leaving his lips. “Can we–just please,” he begged as he looked over her features desperately. She shook her head as she pushed him back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again.

He let out a dry laugh as he walked towards the center of the bedroom. “What was so secretive with you and Trevor yesterday?” he asked while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“It wasn’t a secret. We were just talking,” she said nonchalantly. 

“There was a lot of hugging and laughing,” he said accusatoryly. 

“Okay, well I was going to tell everyone about this later but–uhm–Trevor was able to get me a job with the Ducks. It barely pays anything–barely covers my tuition at Chapman but it’s a job with a professional team so I’ll get expereince. It’ll be an amazing experience,” she explained, a smile forming to her lips.

“If it barely pays anything, where are you going to live? I mean it’s California,” he asked as he forced his gaze towards the floor.

“Trevor said I could move in with him,” she said softly. 

Jack’s head shot up, his eyebrows furrowed harshly. “What? Are you two gonna share a bed or something?!”

“No! What?! He’s letting me have his guest bedroom, J. Why would you think that?” she let out harshly. 

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Jack threw his arms to the side. 

“I didn’t ask Trevor to do anything! I’ve spent all summer talking about missing California. He asked around for me! I didn’t even know until the job interview was scheduled. He went out of his way to do this for me,” 

“Oh, so you and Trevor are like best friends now, huh?” 

“Why do you care about what I am doing with Trevor?”

“I don’t.”

“Why do you care!?”

“I don’t care that you’re moving in with Trevor!?”

“Then what is this? What are we doing right now?!” she asked loudly as she motioned between them. The air was becoming thick as their voices were getting louder.

He took a deep breath as his darken gaze was looking to her eyes desperately. Tears started forming in her eyes as she continued to look towards him. 

“I don’t know,” he let out breathlessly. 

“Give me a reason to go somewhere else,” she let out softly, her heart slamming against her chest. Jack pulled his head back, his lips parting slightly as his vision went blurry ofr a second. 

“Give me a reason to go somewhere else,” she let out again, harsher and more urgent this time. 

She stared into his eyes, searching for an answer. Desperate for an answer. He clenched his jaw as his gaze went from one eye to another before shifting down towards her lips. He took a step towards her, their eyes remained connected. 

“I don’t have one,” he mumbled while tossing his hands to the side. Her mouth fell open as she nodded slowly. A scoff fell from her lips.

“You can’t think of one reason why I should go somewhere else,” she let out, her voice breaking softly. 

“No,” he let out barely above a whisper.

She chewed on her bottom lip while shifting her gaze towards the ceiling. It was as if a thousand stones collapsed onto her chest. She nodded slowly again as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. 

“Get out J,” she muttered.

“Y/N?” he asked softly. 

“Get out Jack,”

He looked into her eyes, watching a tear fall onto her cheek. Hearing his full name fall from her lips nearly made him collapse to the ground. His body went weak as the realization of what he was doing dawned on him. She never said his name like that. Rarely did it fall from her lips. But he knew that right now it meant something completely different than it did a couple days ago. 

“Why?” he asked softly, stepping towards her. 

She stayed still, keeping their eyes connected, almost as if she wanted to make sure she heard her next words. “So I can pack,” she let out as she walked past him towards the closet.

“Pack? You’re not leaving! We have two weeks left!” He took steps towards her. 

She spun around, their faces a few inches apart as both of their breathing was unsteady. “If you cannot give me a reason to go somewhere else. I have no reason to stay,” she explained as steadily as she could. 

He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. Tears were on the edge of falling onto his cheek. Jack nodded as he scanned her features. He dropped his hands to the side as he walked past her. He walked slowly towards the door. “Okay,” he let out barely above a whisper.

She pulled the closet door open and took a hold of all of the clothes she had hanging up. Jack took a hold of the door handle, watching her move quickly back and forth, tossing everything into the two suitcases she laid out onto the bed. 

He bit his bottom lip as he pulled the door open and slipped out of the room. He shut it delicately and crossed the hall towards his own room. He stepped inside, slamming the door shut.

It took her thirty minutes to pack. She kept her tears at bay, despite the headache forming from holding it back. Her body felt tense and hot every minute that passed. But it was finally time for her to leave. She walked out of the bedroom, staring towards Jack’s closed door for a few seconds before she walked towards the living room.

“Hey, hey, hey–what’s this all about?” Quinn called out as he saw her walking out of the hallway with her suitcases trailing behind her. Her eyes widened as she clenched her jaw. 

Her lips parted slightly as her bottom lip quivered. “I–uhm,” she cleared her throat as she looked down the line of all of the boys. They all jumped up from their seats and shifted their attention towards her. 

“I’m moving back to California–as in Trevor is letting me stay with him while I go back to school and work for the Ducks,” 

“That’s awesome! That’s a great opportunity!” Quinn cheered happily as he jogged towards her giving her a quick hug. 

“Look at that!” Luke let out with a chuckle.

“The Ducks? Come on now,” Cole said teasingly.

“It’s a professional team, fantastic experience on my resume,” she said softly. 

“Are we sure the Ducks are a professional team?” Cole teased. Trevor gasped as he shoved Cole.

“You’re one to fucking talk. What was your record last season, Caufield?” Trevor teased.

“You have to leave now?” Quinn asked her while glancing towards Trevor. 

“I want to get my apartment packed up and see my family before I move back to California,” she explained, “So I have to leave early,” she further explained while glancing towards Cole. 

The longer she spoke to the group, the more pain she felt behind her eyes. She gave each of the boys their own goodbye. It would be another year before she saw most of them again. Maybe a dinner in Anaheim for a game but it was still not enough. She wanted those two extra weeks wtih them. With all of them. 

“Where’s Jack?” Cole asked as he pulled away from their embrace. She met his gaze as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, she pouted her lips slightly. 

“I told him first and he’s not really happy that I’m leaving,” she explained towards the other boys. “So he’s in his room,” she muttered before taking a deep breath.

Her eyes met Cole’s again. Cole’s small smile faltered. Y/N and Cole never talked about it but she knew that he was aware of the arrangement her and Jack had. He was constantly asking questions and teasing her about it. Her lips started quivering again as she saw the way Cole was looking over her features. It was almost as if he was asking if she was okay through his eyes.

“Okay, I need to go,” she mumbled, feeling like her tears were starting to come up and she didn’t know if she could hold them back much longer. It didn’t take long for them to guide her out of the door. 

“Let us know when you get back to your apartment!” Luke shouted towards her.

She spun around smiling toward them as she walked towards her car. Keeping her back towards the boys, her tears started to fall onto her cheek. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

Cole watched the other three crowd the door watching her leave. Quickly he snuck away down the hallway towards Jack’s room. Cole took a deep breath as he didn’t hesitate to push open the door. 

Jack shot his head up from his hands. His face was covered in tears as he looked towards Cole. 

They were not the type of friends who cried in front of one another. Nothing like the way Jack was crying right now. He was never the type of guy to cry like this, but he was so overwhelmed his body lost control. 

A sob fell from his lips as he put his face back into his hands. His body shook as he continued to cry into his hands. Cole’s mouth fell open as he walked towards the bed. 

“Jack,” Cole mumbled before he sat down beside him. Jack continued to cry into his hands as Cole pressed his hand against the center of Jack’s back. 

He lifted his head up slightly, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. He sniffled while he shook his head. He looked towards Cole while shaking his head slightly. He swallowed harshly.

“I couldn’t tell her to stay,” Jack mumbled as another sob fell from his lips. 

“I couldn’t give her a reason to stay,” he forced his face back into his hands. Cole titled his head back as he took a shaky breath. He’s never seen Jack like this before, he hated seeing his friend like this. “Why couldn’t I tell her to stay?”

June 2024

Jack was sitting in the living room, a Playstation controller in his hand as he was playing Call of Duty. His arm was in a sling from the surgery he had a few weeks back. Luke was sitting beside him, a controller in his own hand. 

“What are you doing!? Dude!” Luke yelled out as he jerked towards Jack. 

“I have like one and a half hands for this!” Jack said while laughing. 

Quinn walked out of the kitchen as he pulled his phone away from his ear. He let out a huff of air as he looked towards the TV. He looked back towards his younger brothers, still yelling towards one another. 

He shifted his gaze from Luke towards Jack and then back towards his phone. Trevor sent him a text saying that they were only a few minutes from the house. Which meant it was now time to tell Jack the news.

Quinn stood at the back of the couch, he rested his hands onto the couch. He stared towards the screen, watching them both lose. He pressed his lips together as he fought off a laugh climbing in his throat.

“What was that, Lukey? You were supposed to have my back!” Jack shouted while laughing.

“I couldn’t fucking see you!” Luke shot back.

“So Trevor, Y/N, and Cole are almost here. Should probably get ready for them to get here,” Quinn said, cautiously looking down towards Jack. He said her name quickly. Luke simply nodded as he turned off the playstation with his controller. He rested it onto the coffee table before he walked towards the hallway leading towards his room.

Jack’s entire body froze as her name left Quinn’s lips. He hasn’t heard her name in months. His heart jumped into his throat as his breathing seemed to stop. It was suddenly impossible to breathe.

“Y/N’s coming?” Jack let out barely above a whisper. Her name felt foreign against his tongue as he blinked rapidly. 

Images of her flashed in his mind. The smile that literally would light up a room as soon as she would grin. The way her eyes would squint at something dumb he would say. Her lips, her perfect lips he could stare and kiss forever. He missed kissing her, he missed the way her lips pressed against his as if they were made for one another.

“Took a lot of convincing but yeah, she’ll be here,” Quinn offered. Jack shot up from the couch as he faced Quinn. He tossed his good arm to the side. 

“You guys convinced her to come here? After last summer?” Jack asked, shaking his head slightly. “Seriously?!”

Quinn took a deep breath as he shifted his gaze towards the front door. His face scrunched up slightly before he pressed his lips together. He took a deep breath, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Y/N last year but she’s not just your friend. It would be weird without her,” Quinn explained.

“Don’t you think it would be weird with her here and me here?” he asked, his heart slamming against his chest. “An–And you seriously waited to tell me she was coming until she was down the fucking road!” He called out. 

“What the hell happened between you two? I mean seriously, if any of us say her name you get all jumpy. God fucking forbid Trevor brings her up,” Quinn explained. Jack shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “You seriously cannot still be mad at her for–”

“That’s not why we stopped talking and I’m not that fucking petty!” he shouted towards Quinn before he started walking down towards the hallway leading towards his room. Jack stumbled away from Luke who was walking back into the living room. 

“What’s with him?” Luke asked as he pointed behind him. Quinn took a sharp breath as he glanced towards the front door. He saw the Uber pull up towards the lakehouse through the glass doors.

“He found out Y/N was coming,” Quinn mumbled as he watched the three of them climb out of the car. They were dragging suitcases behind them after Cole slammed the trunk closed.

“He didn’t know? It’s always the six of us, why wouldn’t she come?” Luke let out nonchalantly as he saw Cole and Trevor jog towards the doors. Y/N walked slowly, practically not moving at all. Quinn looked behind him, “They’re still not talking?” Luke questioned.

“No,” Quinn let out through a huff of air loving his lips.

“This is going to be so fun,” Luke let out sarcastically as he forced a smile to his lips. 

Cole and Trevor bolted up the porch, pushing the door open. “Quinton and Lukey boy!” Trevor shouted as he bolted inside. He excitedly hugged Quinn before he wrapped his arms around Luke. Cole chuckled as he followed in pursuit. He hugged Quinn, whispering a hello before he walked towards Luke.

Y/N walked up the steps, dragging her suitcase up the stairs. She pushed inside the door, rolling it beside Cole and Trevor’s. She forced a tight lip smile towards the four boys in front of her. 

“We’re so glad you’re here,” Quinn said as he pulled Y/N in a tight embrace. She chuckled against his chest as she returned the hug.

“I don’t think I had much of a choice. Trev threatened to drag me out of the apartment by my ankles if I didn’t come with,” she joked as she gave Luke a brief hug. She looked past him to see Jack emerging from the hallway. Her smile fell off of her lips as she dropped her gaze towards the floor. 

Jack took a deep breath as he forced a wide grin on his lips as he jogged towards the group. “What’s up you guys?” he cheered as Trevor hugged him cautiously. 

She cleared her throat as she took a hold of her suitcase. “I’m going to unpack,” she mumbled as she started walking towards the hallway leading towards her room. Her room has so many messy memories, she was almost afraid to step into it. 

The boys all shifted their gaze towards her. Her gaze was on the floor as she continued walking away from them. Their smiles all faltered as they shared awkward glances. Jack stood beside Cole as he stared towards the hallway, watching her walk away.

Cole looked over Jack’s side profile. Watching Jack clench his jaw, he saw that Jack wasn’t breathing. He saw his cheeks pink up as the lack of oxygen was starting to actually take an effect. Cole punched Jack’s good arm. Jack tilted his gaze to the side, meeting Cole’s eye. Jack took a deep breath before he forced another smile on his lips.

“You boys unpack, we have a boat to get drunk on!” Jack said loudly before he walked towards the hallway. The other boys all shared awkward laughter as they continued to talk loudly amongst each other. 

Jack walked towards his room, he reached towards the door handle. Looking behind him, he saw her door was wide open. His posture straightened as he looked into the room. His heart was slamming against his chest. 

She looked good, better than good. She was glowing. It was like seeing her for the first time again. He never wanted to look anywhere else. She was a breath of fresh air, seeing her after all of this time was like breathing for the first time ever.

He leaned back, chewing on his bottom lip as he scanned her frame. She was walking back and forth from the closet to the bed. 

She lifted her head up, looking into the hallway. Their eyes instantly connected. She froze in place as her breathing started to quicken. She gripped the shirt in her hand tightly as she began to blink rapidly. 

His lips parted as a million different words were at the tip of his tongue. He began to take a step towards her. At his sudden half step towards her, she began to walk towards the door. The corner of his lips curled upward as their eyes remained connected. She took a hold of the door and slammed it shut. 

His head pulled back, almost as if it was slammed directly in his face. He felt his skin go hot. His lips parted as he was now staring towards the closed door. He clenched his jaw as he tilted his head back. 

He opened the door to his own room as he stepped inside. Slamming it shut himself. Jack walked towards the bed and sat back down again, his breathing quickened as he shook his head.

~~~

Y/N sat in her usual spot on the boat. Her legs were curled up against her chest. Trevor was laying beside her, his head was against her thigh. Every few seconds she would brush the hair away from his forehead. Her gaze was staring towards the water as she watched the water lap. The orange glow from the sunset reflected in the water was always her favorite. 

She has hundreds of photos but nothing matched the way it looked in person. No photo could ever do it justice. She brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face as she stared towards the water. 

“Y/N,” Trevor mumbled beside her. She dropped her gaze towards him, meeting his gaze. She brushed his hair away from his forehead again. It was more for her, it was something to distract her from the fact that Jack was across from her on the boat. His body was shirtless, despite his arm still in a sling. 

“Talk to him,” he whispered. She shook her head as she looked back towards the water, her fingertips still running through his hair. She was drunk, that just clicked in her head. She was definitely drunk because she was getting dizzy staring at the water. “Y/N, come on,” 

“I’m drunk, I have nothing good to say,” she mumbled before she looked back down towards him.

Jack sat beside Quinn, his leg was bouncing hard as he stared towards Y/N. He continuously clenched his jaw as he felt his body tense. He couldn’t stand how close they’ve gotten. They could look at one another and know exactly what the other one was thinking. He hated watching her touch him so delicately, exactly like she used to with him.

She replaced him with Trevor. It was obvious. He wondered if they had a similar arrangement. It would be a lot easier. They see each other for several more months out of the year. Share a wall even. Maybe he was right, maybe they did share a bed.

He was getting more and more mad the longer he watched her glide her fingers through his hair. That was his spot. He slammed his fist against his thigh, wincing in pain as he shocked himself with the strength. He dropped his gaze towards his lap. 

“They’ve gotten close, huh?” Quinn said as he subtly pointed towards their direction. Jack looked towards Quinn, their eyes met as Jack continued to clench his jaw. He forced out a hum as he dropped his gaze back towards his lap. He began blinking rapidly, he needed to punch something. He clenched his fist on his thigh again. 

“I’m getting cold, can we head back to the house?” Jack asked softly towards Quinn. Their eyes met again. Quinn looked over Jack’s features, maybe even seeing tears brim his eyes. Quinn squinted his eyes slightly as he looked towards the other people on the boat. 

Cole was laying on the floor of the boat as he was loudly laughing with Luke. Trevor was sitting up now, a decent distance away from Y/N. He was talking to her, instead of a conversation since she was staring towards the water. 

“Are you guys ready to swing back?” he asked the group. Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting Jack’s. Their eyes remained connected as Quinn hopped into the driver’s seat. Jack ran his hand across his chin as he watched her look away. He tilted his head back, looking towards the sky as a scoff left his lips. 

“Absolutely, I’m fucking starving,” Luke said as he kicked Cole on the side teasingly. Cole jolted before he stood up from his lying position. He sat down beside Jack, purposely bumping Jack’s good shoulder. 

Cole watched Jack stare towards Y/N and Trevor. Cole swallowed harshly as he whispered, “They’re just friends.”

Jack dropped his gaze back towards his lap, “Yeah, well, so we’re we,” he said in reference to Y/N. Cole didn’t say anything further as he awkwardly shifted his gaze everywhere. 

Luke cleared his throat as he leaned back on the boat, “Pool tourney when we get back?” Luke announced, he held his hands to the side. Everyone but Jack and Y/N agreed. She rarely played and she definitely wasn’t going to play when she was this drunk. “Awesome, I’m gonna order some pizza before we start,”

“Do we have any water?” Trevor asked. Jack perked up at the question. He leaned down and took a hold of the last one in the small cooler near him. The medicine he has been on for his shoulder doesn’t mix well with alcohol. He held it up for Trevor. “Great,” he let out as he manuvered his way towards Jack.

Meeting Trevor’s gaze as he handed him the bottle. Trevor nodded slightly as he manuvered back towards his sitting position beside Y/N.

Jack watched as Y/N refused the water for a few seconds. Trevor had opened the bottle and handed it to her. She reluctantly brought it towards her lips.

It didn’t take long for the boat to get docked back by their house. Luke and Cole were the first ones to bolt off of the boat. Quinn was making sure it was secured before he ran off back towards the house. 

Jack stood up, walking towards the edge of the boat that lined up with the dock. He watched as Trevor looped his arm around her waist. She wrapped her arm around Trevor’s shoulder as he helped her off of the boat. 

“Okay, one step–good. There you go,” Trevor mumbled. Jack clenched his jaw as he watched Trevor’s hands lower on her hip as she climbed out of the boat. “Come on, Y/N,” he overheard Trevor say as they continued down the dock. Jack stood still while he ran his hand over his bad shoulder.

“Tell me what happened with you two,” Quinn offered as he stood at the end of the dock. Quinn rested his hands onto his hips as he stepped away from the boat. Jack climbed off of the boat, meeting Quinn’s gaze. 

“It’s a long story,” Jack let out defeatedly. 

“Luke’s probably ordering everything off of the menu, we’ve got time.” Quinn offered as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ll walk really slowly,” he let out jokingly. Jack tossed his head back while laughing.

“Okay,” Jack let out a breath he was holding. “I had a game against the Red Wings the Decemember before last summer. I couldn’t sleep and I honestly was excited to see her. So I invited her to come hang out at my hotel room—” he began to explain as he glanced towards Quinn.

“You didn’t,” Quinn mumbled.

“I didn’t plan on anything. I literally just wanted to hang out with her. But I kissed her and one thing led to another and we hooked up,” he avoided Quinn’s eye, “We hooked up and I thought everything went back to normal. I mean she went to lunch with Lukey and I; and she went to my game. It was normal. After that, everything was fine. We texted and called everyday, it was fine,” 

“I was nervous to see her in person again. But it seemed so fine between us that it seemed like it was going to be perfectly normal. And then she walked through that door and I swear to God she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Didn’t the three of them burst into the house singing Hot in Herre by Nelly last year?” Quinn asked while laughing. 

“They did,” Jack chuckled softly, “But she was so beautiful and funny because you know that definitely was her idea,” he shook his head slightly. “We were avoiding each other that first day here until that night when we hooked up again,”

Quinn let out an urgent breath while shaking his head. 

“And then we thought–I thought–why should we stop? So I brought up doing a little arrangement where we have sex and you know be friends,” 

“So friends with benefits?” Quinn asked as he rested his hands onto his hips.

“Uh, yeah. It happened all summer until we argued the morning after her birthday. I got jealous over the fact that she was moving in with Trevor. I was mad that she went to him about her struggles instead of me. I was mad that I wasn’t her person even though we slept together and she fell asleep in my arms every night. I was pissed and she left,” 

Quinn stopped walking, gripping Jack’s good arm. “So she didn’t leave early to pack her apartment up?” he asked. Jack shook his head. “Holy shit,” Jack nodded slowly as the pair began walking again. “Every night, really?” Quinn asked as his face scrunched up slightly. 

Jack let out a nervous laugh while running his hand across his chin. “Sometimes during the day too,” he mumbled while Quinn groaned.

“Oh god, I did not need to know that,”

Trevor guided her towards her bedroom, his arm still looped around her waist to stablize her. Trevor carefully rested her onto the bed. She slumped slightly as she forced her eyes open. “How much did you drink?” he asked her, “I swear it wasn’t more than like four?” he said as he walked towards the closet. He pulled the door open. Looking behind him, he saw her lean back onto her hands. 

“It was four Caufield Cocktails and–” she hiccuped, “I didn’t eat today,” she explained. His eyes widened as he took a hold of a t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“You let Cole make you drinks and you didn’t eat today?! Did you want a death sentence?” Trevor let out urgently as he walked towards the bed. He dropped the clothes beside her. 

“I didn’t wanna see Jack,” she slurred as she slumped her shoulders slightly. 

Trevor straightened her posture. “Let’s get out of this,” he said, referring to the bikini and coverall on her body. 

“I’ve got it,” she mumbled. He stared towards her suspiciously. “Turn around,” she urged. He nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest as he stared towards the closet door. 

“What happened with you and Jack?” he asked, hoping she would spill the beans because she was so drunk. 

“You’re only asking me because you think I won’t remember telling you,” she explained as she pulled the coverall off her frame. She tossed it to the floor. She took a deep breath as she took a hold of the t-shirt. Slowly, she brought it over her frame, carefully putting her arms through the arm holes. Her bikini top was still on her frame but she didn’t realize it. 

“Why don’t you want to see Jack?” Trevor asked, still facing away from her. 

She took in a dramatic breath as she stood up from the bed, stumbling slightly. After a few seconds, she took a hold of her shorts and slid them up her frame. “We hooked up,” she mumbled. 

Trevor spun around a gasp leaving his lips. “You what?!” 

“And then we hooked up all last summer,” she let out as she sat down onto the bed. Trevor dropped his hands to the side. “Like–mind blowing sex all of the time,” she explained drunkenly. Trevor cringed at every word that left her lips but she was drunk so he let it slide. 

“Wait, did you two hook up before the summer?” he asked as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

She laid down onto the bed. “I asked him to gi–give me a reason to not go,” she explained as she pulled the comforter towards her face. Slowly, she snuggled into the blanket. Her eyes shut. “He couldn’t,” she let out as she got teary eyed. She sniffled as she hugged the blanket towards her face. 

“I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason,” she mumbled right before she completely fell asleep.

Trevor froze as he watched her fall asleep mid conversation. He stood up from the bed, his head dizzy from the sudden information dumped onto him. He asked for it and he was expecting anything but the information she told him. He took a sharp intake of breath as he snuck out of her room. 

He walked towards the living room watching Quinn and Jack walk into the house. Trevor’s eyes went wide as he darted towards the basement where the pool tournament was being held. Trevor needed to avoid Jack, desperately needed to hide the drunk information that Y/N told him at his request.

He was better off not knowing. Trevor practically leaped down the stairs. Cole and Luke were setting up the table as they were laughing loudly. Luke jolted back as he watched Trevor nearly fall down the steps. 

“Is Y/N okay?” Cole asked while leaning against the bar countertop. 

“You are not allowed to make her drinks anymore,” he pointed accusingly towards Cole. Cole chuckled while rolling his eyes playfully. “She’s asleep in her room. I’m probably gonna wake her up in like two hours to eat some food,” he explained as he walked towards the pool table. 

“I am a great bartender,” Cole offered before he brought his red solo cup towards his lips. Trevor rolled his eyes as he spun his head around to see Jack and Quinn walking down the stairs. He forced his gaze towards the pool table in front of him, his eyes wide. “Finally, Jacky you’re on scorekeeper,” Cole expressed as he pushed away from the bar top.

Jack rolled his eyes playfully as he sat down on the couch beside the chalkboard. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he began to scroll through his Twitter feed. Trevor gulped as he ran his fingers through his hair. The only thought on his mind was the drunken words that fell from Y/N’s lips.

I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason. I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason. I was in love with him and he couldn’t give me a reason.

Trevor desperately wanted to tell Jack what she told him but he knew it wasn’t his place. He was forced into silence as he took a hold of a pool stick. 

“Trev,” Jack said as he lifted his gaze up from his phone for a second. Trevor spun around, looking towards Jack. “Is she okay?” the question fell from his lips at a genuine tone. The question had been circling his mind from the moment he saw her stumbling off of the boat.

Trevor scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “So now you care how she’s doing?” Trevor asked as the room fell silent. Cole, Quinn, and Luke shared awkward glances as they awkwardly huddled together on the opposite side of the pool table. 

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he pulled his head back slightly, “What?” Jack asked as he looked into Trevor’s eyes. Trevor clenched his jaw as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Do you wanna know why she’s passed out drunk at seven p.m.?” Trevor pointed his question to Jack. Slowly, Jack stood up, shrugging slightly. He looked into Trevor’s eyes, squinting slightly. 

“She didn’t want to see you! I don’t know what happened with you two last summer, but it was so bad that she would rather be passed out alone and drunk than be around you!” Trevor said harshly. 

“You’re right! You don’t know what happened, so keep your mouth shut!” Jack expressed loudly as he pushed Trevor back. Trevor clenched his jaw as he scanned Jack’s features. “Especially you!”

“Especially me, what the hell does that mean?!” Trevor shouted.

Jack clenched his jaw as he shook his head slightly. A dry chuckle left his lips while shaking his head. After several seconds, Jack started walking away. “Keep track of your own fucking scores,” he shouted out towards the group as he bolted up the steps.

His entire body tensed as he walked towards the kitchen; desperate for a drink. He wasn’t supposed to drink on the medication he was on but one drink wouldn’t kill him. At least he thought it wouldn’t kill him. He took a hold of the large vodka bottle and poured it into a large red solo cup. It was definitely more than two shots but he didn’t care. He took a hold of a mixer and poured it into the cup; maybe to dilute it.

He brought it towards his lips and took long sips. It didn’t take long for the cup to be empty. He tossed the cup into the trash can before he stormed out of the kitchen again. He walked down the hall towards his room. 

Taking a hold of the door handle, he shifted his gaze towards her room. He took a deep breath as he tossed his head back. She was going to wake up so hungover tomorrow. He shifted back and forth, debating on if he should go inside. 

He sighed as he walked out away from the doors. Jack manuvered through the living room and back towards the kitchen.

He darted towards the fridge, pulling it open swiftly. Jack took a hold of a water bottle. A groan fell from his lips as he slammed it shut. He walked towards the opposite side of the kitchen, flavor packets were all laid out in a container. He took a hold of one of the liquid IV packets and began walking out of the kitchen again.

“What am I doing?” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. He let out a huff of air as he walked down the hall. “Stupid,” he muttered as he pushed the door open. His eyes landed on her, she was asleep. Her face was smashed into the pillow. His heart jumped into his throat. He delicately shut the door behind him.

Walking towards her, he squeezed the plastic water bottle in his head a few times. He sat down beside her, he rested the bottle on the nightstand. He dropped the packet beside the bottle. Carefully, he rested his hand onto her arm. He shook her slightly, she jolted awake. Her eyes widened instantly. 

He muffled a laugh as he watched her blink rapidly. She looked towards Jack, a groan falling from her lips. “Go away,” she mumbled as she smashed her face deeper into the pillow. 

Jack carefully twisted the top of the water bottle off and rested it onto the nightstand. He took the packet of liquid IV and brought it towards his mouth. Using his teeth, he ripped open the packet. 

“Pizza should be here soon, you should stay up to eat and then go to bed,” he explained as he managed to pour the powder into the plastic water bottle. Only spilling some of the powder onto the nightstand. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, her eyes shutting again. He covered the water bottle again before he took a hold of it. He began shaking it to mix it together. “Go away, Jack,”

“Drink this,” he slammed it down onto the nightstand, “Or don’t. Whatever,” he mumbled before he stood up from the bed. Without looking back he walked out of the room and directly towards his own room. 

~~~

The following few days were still awkward with everyone. Jack was isolating himself, he thought it would be better to let himself cool off. He was avoiding being social and having to explain his outburst. Even though Quinn and Trevor knew what it was about. Trevor tried to not take it personally. 

Luke was trying to pry, nosy and desperate for details. He was constantly bugging Trevor for details. Y/N was completely out of the loop, no one told her about Jack and Trevor’s argument. They were doing everything in their power to still enjoy their time away with the tension between Y/N and Jack. 

She walked out of her room, her frame only covered by a black bikini. Her gaze was on her phone as she was adjusting the sunglasses on her head. She pushed her hair back as she rested it back down onto her head. 

Lifting her head up, she saw a shirtless Jack standing just in front of the doorway to the kitchen. Their eyes connected. Her lips parted slightly as she felt her legs feel weak beneath her. Suddenly, breathing felt impossible as she continued to look into his softening gaze. Clenching her jaw, she tapped her thumb against her phone screen.

He looked good. She hated that he looked good. She could’ve sworn that his body was not this toned last summer. Her gaze lowered towards his body, scanning each curve of his muscles. A memory flashed in her mind of her sitting in his lap, admiring the way his body tensed and flexed under her touch. The way her fingertips glided along his skin, purposely creating a reaction out of him.

Swallowing harshly, she forced her gaze back up towards him. Their eyes connected again and it felt like time stopped. She took a quick breath realizing she hasn’t took a breath in several long seconds. 

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked barely above a whisper. 

Jack’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he glanced behind him. He flung his arms to his side. His sling is no longer on his arm. He was cleared yesterday to start physical therapy which meant no more brace and sling. 

“Gym,” he let out simply before he nodded slowly. 

“Where’s your sling?” she asked while pointing towards him with her hand holding her phone. 

Looking down, almost as if he forgot it was gone. He took a sudden breath as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s only as needed now,” he explained while nodding. She hummed as she dropped her gaze towards the floor. 

“Thank you for the other night. I know I was pretty out of it but I remember you helping me,” she explained. The words left her lips genuinely. The space between them is seemingly shrinking. She wasn’t sure if she was walking towards him or if it was the other way around. 

“I just put the powder in the water bottle and put it on the nightstand,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“With one hand, it was impressive,” she let out jokingly. A breathy laugh left his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I’ve got skills,” he let out teasingly. 

She chuckled softly as she rolled her eyes playfully. He let out another laugh as he looked into her eyes. Desperate to find out if this was momentary or if she was okay with being around him. But the tight-lip polite smile that formed onto her lips told him that it was momentary and that she was darting to the opposite side of the house again. 

“I’m gonna–” she trailed off before she turned and began to walk towards the backdoor leading towards the back deck. Jack didn’t call after her, didn’t say anything more. He let out a long breath before he plopped down onto the couch; careful of his shoulder. 

It took another twenty minutes before the other boys returned to the house. Luke led the charge. Steam practically spewing out of his ears. He stormed inside. “You and Y/N hooked up?” he yelled out accusingly. Jack spun around, his mouth falling open. His gaze shifted towards Quinn who was following after Luke urgently. “Why the hell would you guys do that!?” he yelled out.

“Fucking can’t tell Quinn anything,” Jack mumbled before he looked towards Quinn harshly. He watched an apology fall from his lips. 

“So that’s why you two can’t fucking stand being in the same room as one another?”

“Lukey,” Jack mumbled as he stood up from the couch.

“You couldn’t keep it in your pants so you made it awkward for everyone else! What am I supposed to do, choose sides?!” Luke continued to shout. 

Trevor and Cole disappeared outside where Y/N was at. Quinn shifted awkwardly as he watched his youngest brother’s skin turn pink from anger.

“This has nothing to do with you!”

“You ruined a perfect thing that we had going here! It was your rule to not pursue her!” Luke called out. 

Y/N was sitting on one of the chairs outside, her sunglasses on her face and her Kindle in front of her. Trevor and Cole were whispering towards one another as they looked back towards her.

Pulling the Kindle away from her gaze, she looked at the boys in front of her. “What can I do for you?” She asked sarcastically as she rested the Kindle beside her. The sound of muffled yelling came from inside. She turned around looking inside. “What’s happening?” She asked softly.

“I think everyone knows,” Trevor mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded slowly trying to understand what he meant by that.

“Know what?” she asked, drawing out the words. 

“About you and Jack,” he let out as he took a deep breath. She shook her head slowly, still confused on what Trevor was getting at. He let out a dramatic sigh, “About you two hooking up last summer,” he let out as if it was holding him hostage.

Her mouth fell open as she shook her head. A nervous chuckle fell from her lips. “How did you know about that?” She asked Trevor, mainly pointing her question to Cole.

“You told me the other night,” he let out while looking towards the sky.

“Did I tell you or did you pry the information out of me because I was drunk,” she asked while resting her hands onto her hips. “Wait, how does Quinn and Luke know?” She asked glancing behind her, the muffled yelling was continuing.

“I guess Jack told Quinn and you know Quinn can’t keep a secret,” Trevor said. Trevor’s eyes widened as he looked towards Cole. A gasp fell from Trevor’s lips, “Wait how did you know?!”

Cole tossed his head back and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Because I have eyes, Because I am observant!” he let out through a laugh. Trevor scoffed. “I mean this with love, Y/N, but Jack’s a slut and Y/N likes to have a good time, right? But all of a sudden both of them stopped bringing people home for the night or were disappearing for hours on end together. Ya’ll just can’t pay attention to shit.”

“Were we really that obvious?” she pointed her question to Cole. 

“Clearly not to anyone else,” Cole mumbled as she shoved Trevor to the side. 

The muffled yelling seemed to simmer down but it was obvious tension was still high between the brothers inside. Jack stepped outside, a huff of air leaving his lips. His eyes widened as he was surprised to see Y/N still sitting outside. Her body straightened. 

Without saying anything, Trevor and Cole both agreed to walk back into the house to leave Y/N and Jack alone. Jack’s eyes widened as he watched them walk away from them. She clenched her jaw as she slumped into the chair while she tilted her head back against the chair. 

“So Quinn and Luke know about us,” Jack let out quietly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she pursed her lips forward. “And I guess Trevor does too. I think Cole always knew,” he continued while crossing his arms over his chest. His declaration was left in the air for a second. She nodded as she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. He chuckled dryly as he began to walk towards the chair on the opposite side of her.

“Jack,” she let out softly as she trailed his movements. He let out a dramatic groan as he flopped down onto the chair. He took a hold of his shoulder, wincing. His face scrunched up in disgust. “So you told Quinn?”

Jack nodded as a hum fell from his lips, “Wouldn’t stop asking me questions,” he explained while looking towards her, maybe meeting her gaze.

“I told Trevor,” she turned her head, looking down towards her lap. She began twisting the ring on her pointer finger. 

“Figured,” Jack mumbled.

Clenching her jaw, she took a deep breath. “It was the other night when I was drunk. He knew I wouldn’t remember telling him,” she explained. Jack’s eyes widened as his posture straightened. “Trev, also wouldn’t stop asking me questions,” she explained. He nodded slowly as he tapped his fingertips against the arm of the chair. 

They sat beside each other in silence, feeling as though there was a literal wall forming between them. Her body was erupting in goosebumps as she kept glancing in his direction. He was already looking towards her with a thousand words on the tip of his tongue. 

“How’s living with Trevor?” Jack as he leaned forward, resting his arms onto his thighs. She pulled the sun glasses from her face, folding them and resting it onto the side table.

“Pretty lonely honestly,” she mumbled. Jack furrowed his eyebrows as their eyes connected. His breath caught in his throat, god her eyes were so beautiful. Clenching her jaw for a moment, “He was gone a lot with his girlfriend and games. I didn’t mind it but yeah it’s been fine,” she explained softly. 

Jack nodded as he chewed on his bottom lip, “How’s the job?” he asked. Instantly, her eyes lit up as a wide grin formed to her lips.

She began to talk rapidly about the experience. It was everything and more than what she expected. She probably was talking for more than a couple minutes but Jack didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was the fact that he has missed hearing her voice more than anything. 

He forgot how much her voice relaxed him, every ounce of tension in his body seemed to disappear. Any amount of frustration seemed to disappear in a moment's notice. All he wanted was for her to know that he missed her more than anything.

She took a deep breath after she explained a story about her new co-workers. He laughed with her as she told the story. Her laugh was probably his favorite sound. No matter how loud or muffled it sounded, it was his favorite. 

After a few more seconds, Trevor stepped out into the back patio. Clearing his throat, he shifted awkward glances between Y/N and then to Jack. “Cole’s dying to go clubbing. You guys in?” Trevor asked, looking towards Y/N if she needed any assistance. 

“Definitely,” Jack and Y/N said at the same time. She jolted her gaze back towards Jack, suddenly hyper aware of the situation. She cleared her throat.

“I’m going to go get ready then,” she stood up as she spoke. 

“It’s like noon,” Jack let out teasingly. 

Her mouth fell open, “I mean if I’m going to a club, I’m going to need a nap,” she offered without looking back towards the boys behind her. 

“Yeah me too,” Jack mumbled as he stood up. He began to walk past Trevor, instead Trevor took a hold of Jack’s arm. 

“I’m sorry about–”

“No I’m sorry,” Jack interrupted, “I don’t know what she told you or how much she told you but I’ve been a dick to you and that’s not on you,” he explained.

Trevor let out a soft laugh, “Okay, well, that’s true but I didn’t have to come at you like that,” he said softly. 

Jack let out a long dramatic sigh as the pair started walking back towards the house, “Yeah, well, I deserved it,”

~~~

It was well into the night and they were all gone. Drunk and dizzy but they were all dancing like nothing mattered. No focus on cameras or wandering eyes, they were there to enjoy themselves and that is what they did.

Luke, Cole, and Trevor had disappeared early in the night. Each of them had texted the group chat that they were busy. Which is code for they found a girl and were either leaving with her or they were sticking together for rest of the night. 

Quinn was in big brother mode, busy scanning the crowd making sure the ones that were still there werwe safe. In reality, he was focusing on Y/N making sure she was okay and able to still function. He was enjoying himself, dancing with a few girls here and there but he kept watching over Y/N.

Jack stood near the bartop, his eye strictly on Y/N. He was leaning back on his arms, a drink still in his hand. His gaze scanned her movements, his frame overheating. Perhaps from the heat of the endless bodies in the night club or because of her. He chewed on his bottom lip, feeling his heart slam against his chest. 

Her body seemed to move perfectly in sync with the beat of the song. Her hips swayed back and forth as her hands seemed to move freely with her. She was alone, between the sea of people; seemingly pushing away any guy that tried to get close and personal with her. 

Jack contemplated on walking towards her, dancing with her but he knew it was better off staying away. 

Until Jack saw a man that seemed double his own size approach her. He titled his head back as he waited for her to send him packing. Yet she spun around looking towards the freakishly tall man. She continued to sway and move to the beat of the song, her hands rested on the stranger’s chest. Jack cleared his throat as he watched her spin around. 

His lips parted as the stranger pulled her against his frame. The stranger was whispering in her ear. It was dark and hard to see in the club but he could see Y/N’s smile from miles away. It was wide and bright. Jack was sure it was a drunken grin but she looked like she was enjoying every second of it. 

Jack’s vision blurred as he felt his entire body tense. He pulled his drink towards his lips as he chugged the whole drink. He left it on the bar top, the ice was the only thing remaining in the glass.

If she can flaunt being with someone else, so could he. 

Sure, he was mad. He was always the jealous type with her. Never was with any of his girlfriends but with Y/N he was so possessive. He hated when any of the other guys were close with her but it never made sense before. For years, he thought it was because she was his favorite and close friend.

But it didn’t take long for him to realize it was because he was in love with her. He never wanted anyone else to be near her with any kind of intentions. But she clearly no longer felt the same way. Or she never felt the same way, he wasn’t sure.

He darted through the sea of people, trying to find someone, anyone, willing to participate in his act of making Y/N jealous. Or maybe make her look in his direction. He could still see her in his line of sight as he approached a model-esq blonde woman. Instantly, she spun around smiling towards Jack. 

It didn’t take much effort from Jack. The girl scanned Jack’s features and instantly took a hold of Jack’s black t-shirt and pulled him towards her. He looped his arms around the girl’s waist letting her lead the motion. She instantly pressed her ass against him. Jack’s eyes widened, as he followed her movements. His body instantly reacted at the contact. 

Jack looked towards Y/N, watching her seemingly ignore him. A huff of air left his lips as he tried to focus on the beautiful girl in front of him. But she wasn’t his beautiful girl. His beautiful girl was in the arms of someone else. He hated it. After a few seconds, he shifted his gaze towards the girl in front of him for only a moment.

Lifting his head up, looking back towards Y/N’s direction and she was gone. Jack froze in place, forcing the girl in front of him to let out an exasperated sigh and slip away from his grasp. Jack barely noticed that she was no longer pressed against him, he stood still. His eyes widened as he watched the sea of people move and shift; hoping for Y/N to be in his line of sight. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, he sighed as he pulled it out.

Y/N: Ubering back to the lakehouse, not alone!

He stared towards the message and was convinced he heard his heart shatter in his chest. He clenched his jaw repeatedly as he continued to stare at the message. The boys in the chat started sending in messages, wolf whistling through text. He swallowed harshly.

His feet seemed to be cemented into the ground at the center of the dance floor. He couldn’t move. His mind began to replay their last moment together in this club. How beautiful she looked in the skin tight black dress. Memories of him bunching the fabric in his hands, the way her body moved in sync with his. The smile on her lips as he whispered into her ear. His body reacted and blended perfectly with hers. 

He swallowed harshly as the image was soon replaced with her dancing with someone else. How was he supposed to go home and sleep across the hall? He squeezed his phone in his hand before he dropped his hand to the side.

He was jolted, blinking rapidly as he looked towards Quinn beside him. He took a shaky breath as he met Quinn’s gaze. “Let’s go home!” Quinn shouted to Jack, keeping a hold of Jack’s arm. 

“How am I supposed to do that!?” he shouted towards Quinn. Jack’s eyes were tearing up as he looked into his older brother’s gaze. “I can’t!” Jack let out while shaking his head. 

Quinn nodded slowly. “You can! Come on!” he shouted, dragging him through the crowd of people. 

The ride back to the lake house took twenty minutes and Jack didn’t say a single word. Quinn didn’t pry, didn’t say anything about what was probably happening in her bedroom back at the lake house. 

He was practically steaming with frustration. He was mad at himself more than anything. He messed everything up because he was jealous and scared. He couldn’t tell her he was in love with her. He couldn’t bring himself to say it to her and now she’s done with him.

He squinted his eyes harshly as he the image of the man pressed against Y/N, flirting and dancing against one another. He clenched his fist repeatedly as he hit it against his thigh.

Cole, Trevor, and Luke were all going to different girls’ houses, which meant Quinn, Jack, and Y/N were the only ones left at the lake house. The Uber pulled up to the house. Letting the two boys out. 

Jack was darting towards the door, no hesitation in any of his steps towards the house. “Jack!” Quinn called out as he chased after him. Jack didn’t slow down a second as he bolted toward the hallway where their shared bedrooms were at. “Jack! Come on!” Quinn shouted as he jogged after him. Jack was raising his hand, ready to slam his fist against the door. “Jack seriously!” Quinn stopped beside Jack.

A scoff left Jack’s lips as he rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t get to do this! Not with me across the hall!” he let out loudly. 

“She does! She has every right to move on and so do you!” Quinn said as he pointed towards the door. 

“I don’t want–” he trailed off as he tilted his head back. “She can move on all she wants in California but not here! Not in my own damn house!” he whispered loudly as he went to raise his hand up to knock on the door.

“Jack,” Quinn scolded as her door was pulled open enough for her to poke her head out. 

A sudden gasp left their lips as their eyes widened. “Y/N,” Quinn let out quietly. 

“Y/N, please don’t do this,” Jack pleaded as he looked into her eyes. A huff of air left her lips as she pulled the door open to reveal that she was alone in her room. 

“Do what?” she asked knowingly. Jack let out a dry laugh while shaking his head. “I only told you guys that so Trevor would get off my back,” she explained as her hand flung behind her to show that there was no one on the bed. 

“So what is this? Is this some game to you?” Jack asked harshly.

“A game? What are you talking about, Jack?!” she shouted back towards you, stepping closer to him.

Quinn spun on his heel and instantly walked away from the pair. He shook his head as a huff of air left his lips. He jogged up the stairs towards his own room, leaving them alone. He wanted nothing to do with whatever was about to happen downstairs.

“Is this to get back to me?!” Jack shouted as he threw his arms to the side. He took a step closer to her.

“You? Seriously, Jack, not everything is about you!” she yelled towards him tossing her hands to the side.

“You can’t bring guys back here!” he let out loudly. 

“Why do you care!?” she shouted towards him, a scoff left his lips.

“Because–” he let out softly as he glanced towards the living room. 

“You know what, you– you don’t get to care if I sleep with other people! You have no reason to care about me!” she shouted towards him. “You’ve made that very clear,” she let out softer.

He swallowed harshly as he scanned her features. He hasn’t been this close to her in so long he almost forgot how breathtaking she was. She was holding a breath as she looked into his eyes. Her skin ran hot as she saw the way his eyes were looking over her frame. His gaze flickered down towards her lips as he clenched his jaw. Lifting his gaze, he looked into her eyes. 

“Very fucking clear,” she mumbled breathlessly.

“You can do whoever you want when you’re in California but keep it out of my house,” he stepped towards her, their faces were only a few inches apart. Her breath caught in her throat as she scanned his reddening features. She watched him take a sudden breath as he looked from one eye to the other. 

“What are you going to do? Keep me under lock and key?” she whispered harshly.

“If I have to,” he mumbled.

“You’re such a dick,” she muttered as she lowered her gaze towards his lips. “I saw you at the club dancing with that girl, you don’t get to act all high and mighty acting like you weren’t doing the same thing,” 

He clenched his jaw as he nodded slowly. “And what was I doing exactly?” he asked as he stepped towards her, forcing her to step back slightly. 

“Trying to make me jealous,” 

“Did it work?” he asked with a smirk threatening his lips. She felt her legs weaken beneath her. 

“No,” she muttered. “I don’t care about you anymore,”

“Then why isn’t the door in my face?” he asked breathlessly, leaning towards her. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her chest. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her, pressing his lips against his urgently. A moan fell from his lips as he pulled her closer to him. Their tongues entwined instantly as they stumbled back, their bodies pressed against one another. He quickly kicked his shoes off, not caring if they were obviously left outside of her door.

She was mad at him but she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. She wanted nothing more than to be this close to him again, she craved his touch. He bunched up the fabric of the skin tight dress covering her frame.

Jumping up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Jack took a hold of her legs, to support her. Hissing in pain, he dropped his bad arm and let it hang beside him. She pulled her lips back, taking a hold of his cheeks. Bumping their noses together in the process.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I forgot,” she whispered breathlessly. A breathy chuckle fell from his lips as a small smile formed to his lips.

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” he mumbled as he slammed his lips against hers. With one hand he kept a hold of her thigh tightly against his frame. He carried her into her bedroom, using his other arm to swing the door shut. He pressed her back against the door, a breathy moan fell from her lips as she tilted her head back.

Jack desperately began to trail his lips down the center of her neck. Slowly, he circled his tongue as he continued to trail wet kisses down her skin. He twisted the lock on the door before he carried her towards the bed. She took a hold of his cheeks, desperately needing his lips on hers again. 

Slowly, she glided down her frame, his hand loosening his grip as their lips remained connected. Her hands glided along his chest as he reached behind her. He took a hold of the zipper and instantly started gliding it down her frame. Without hesitation, he began to pull it from her body. She helped him in the process as she kicked it away from them.

His fingertips glided along the skin of her lower back, his body overheating. Finally and desperately feeling her skin beneath his hands.

She began tugging at the shirt covering his frame. He pulled back, taking a hold of the end of his shirt and tossing it over his head. Their eyes connected again as Jack had a small smile on his lips. She stumbled back as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She took a deep breath.

He stood in front of her, taking a hold of his jeans. He pulled them from his frame. After a second of thought he tugged his boxers from his frame. His body tensed as the cold air hit his overheating skin. 

Pulling her lips back, her gaze scanned his frame. Her entire body erupting in goosebumps watching him drag his hand up and down his shaft, a muffled groan fell from his lips before he looked back up towards her. 

All of the blood in her body felt like it rushed to her head. Y/N sat down on the edge of the bed. He smirked as she slowly laid on her back. Jack climbed on top of her, connecting their lips desperately. He ran his hand along her cheek as he lowered his hand, taking a delicate hold of her neck. His thumb glided down the center of her neck as he pulled back. 

Her eyes flickered open as she was breathing heavily. Her hand glided through his hair, watching him look over her features. “Y/N ple–”

“Please don’t talk just…” she trailed off as she ran her thumb across the apple of his cheek. 

He stared down towards her hesitantly. Still, a thousand things on the tip of his tongue. He took a sudden breath as she pushed him back. He rolled onto his back as she instantly climbed onto his lap. Jack’s eyes widened as looked over her frame as if it was for the first time.

She pulled all of her hair over her shoulder as she leaned down and kissed him slowly. His hands ran along her back, toying with the clasp of her bra. She grinded against his lap, slowly teasingly. He thrusted up into her, desperate for some release. She smirked against his lips while she ran her hand along his chest. He unclasped it watching her tug it away from her frame. 

Time seemed to slow as their lips remained connected as his hands roamed her frame. Ther was no rush in their movements, savoring each kiss. Making up for lost time perhaps. Slowly she began to trail her lips down his neck. He tilted his head back, he bit his bottom lip as he held his breath. 

“Y/N,” he let out breathlessly. He squeezed her thigh as she continued to suck the skin beneath his ear. 

“Don’t talk,” she whispered into his ear as she ran her hand down his chest. He chuckled softly as he tilted his head to the side meeting her gaze. 

“Okay,” he mumbled as he tapped her leg, asking for her to lay down. 

“Your arm,” she mumbled while looking into his eyes.

“I’ve got skills, remember?” he mumbled while fighting off a grin. She rolled her eyes playfully as she climbed off of his lap and laid onto her back; the same time Jack rolled onto his side, pulling her against him. Their legs were entangled as their lips instantly connected.

He took a hold of her underwear, looping them in his finger as he slowly started gliding them down his frame. A breathy moan fell from her lips as she kicked them off of the bed. 

He reached down and instantly began to rub her clit in a slow teasing pace. Her hand gripped his arm. Instantly, she pulled back with a sudden gasp leaving his lips. He smirked towards her, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head. 

She was holding back a moan as she squinted her eyes shut. Slowly, he pushed his fingers inside of her, watching desire pool her features. Her hands took a hold of his cheeks, pulling him towards her. Their lips met in a sloppy cadence as she grinded against his fingers that were thrusting into her. 

Desire flooded her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging the strands. “Jack,” she mumbled against his lips as her vision blurred. He hummed against her lips as he pulled his fingers away from her center, her body running cold for a second. 

She wrapped her leg around his waist as he instantly guided himself to her center. Looking back up, meeting her gaze. He was mesmerized by the way she was looking towards him. So desperate and craving him. She ran her hand towards the base of his neck.

Slowly, he thrusted into her, a low moan falling from his lips. He took a hold of her thigh as he continued to thrust into her slowly, feeling her adjust to his size. Their eyes remained connected as he continued the sensual pace. 

She leaned towards him, taking her lips in his. She moaned into his mouth as his hand gripped her thigh tightly. “Fuck,” she muttered against his lips. He could feel her clenching around him, pulling his climax faster. 

It has been far too long since either of them have felt this good. There’s been rebounds. Probably too many to count shared between them but none of them felt this right and this perfect. She couldn’t even remember ever reaching this close to a climax since the last time they were together.

“Oh my god,” she whined out. He missed hearing that, he missed knowing he was the one making her feel like that.

The way their breathing were in perfect short cadences as their lips tried to maintain the desperate connection. But her body was flooding with desire, as her vision was blurring. Every few seconds, his lips would press a sloppy kiss to her lower lip as he grunted.

His thrust started to speed up in pace as a whimper fell from her lips, he nodded, “Good girl–doin’ so good,” he whispered. She let out a moan as she tilted her head back. He pressed his lips to the center of her neck. Her hands ran along his upper back. More muffled moans fell from her lips as she gave all of her to him.

“I’m so–”

A sudden gasp left her lips as her entire body tensed, an overwhelming amount of pleasure coursed through her frame. She dragged her nails across his upper back, “Jack,” she moaned out.

With one more thrust, he reached his own climax, short breaths fell from his lips as he released into her. “Fuck,” he let out barely above a whisper. He continued to ride out his own orgasm as he watched her eyes flutter open. Her hands glided along his upper back to take a hold of his neck.

Their eyes connected as he watched her gaze soften. Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips against hers sloppy. He pulled out as they both pulled back, falling onto their backs. They both laid breathlessly as they stared towards the ceiling. 

They didn’t talk for several seconds as the reality of what they did set in. She felt her heart jump in her throat as she sat up, swinging her legs off of the bed.  

Jack switched his gaze towards her, his eyes scanned her bare back watching her breathe heavily. She pulled open the bottom drawer, she quickly pulled out a t-shirt and shorts. 

“You know how amazing I am?” Jack let out as he leaned back on his arms. His tone was questioning but he had a wide grin on his lips. 

A breathy laugh fell from her lips as she pulled the t-shirt over her frame. “What?” she asked, a smirk toying to her lips as she stood up to pull the shorts up. 

“I got you to admit that you were trying to make me jealous,” he offered teasingly. She spun around looking towards him. Her mouth fell open as she shook her head slightly. 

“I wasn’t, I didn’t…” she stammered as she trailed her gaze down his frame. Jack whipped the comforter over his body as she raised her eyes back up towards his face. 

“Oh, well, you did,” he said as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. 

“I didn’t,” she said as she climbed back onto the bed, pulling the comforter over her. Their eyes connected again.

“Weren’t your exact words you don’t get to act all high and mighty acting like you weren’t doing the same thing–” he trailed off as he watched the realization dawn on her face, her teasing smirk faded on her lips. She squinted her eyes slightly, “And then I asked you what I was doing and you said–”

“Trying to make me jealous,” she finished his sentences as she tilted her head to the side. 

“Exactly,” he whispered as he pointed his finger towards her subtly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a hold of his hand. He chuckled as their eyes connected again. She took a deep breath as she scanned his features. 

Swallowing harshly, she dropped his hand. “You should probably go,” she mumbled as she began to lay down on the bed to face away from him.

He furrowed his eyebrows harshly, “What just happened?” he asked as he looked down towards her. 

“This doesn’t change anything,” she mumbled. 

A scoff fell from his lips, “Doesn’t it? I mean seriously, Y/N,” he expressed as he rested his hand onto her arm, pulling her back to face him. Their eyes met as she clenched her jaw. “It has to change something,”

He reached his hand over toward her, taking a hold of her cheek. Leaning into his hand, she shut her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this again,” she mumbled.

“Then let’s do something else,” he muttered as he ran his thumb across her hot skin. 

“Do what, Jack? If you mean–that, I don’t know if I can, I'm so tired,” she explained as a soft laugh left her lips.

“No, not that,” he chuckled as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “I mean let’s try being friends again,” he mumbled against her lips, “Exclusive friends,”

She pulled away, tilting her head to the side. She stared towards him suspiciously for a second, “We tried that, we didn’t talk for a year afterwards,” 

He giggled, “I mean, we work towards something serious,” he offered as he scanned her features again.

“Jack,” she wasn’t sure, she was still tipsy and not thinking straight.

“Think about it,” he mumbled before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Jack,”

“Think about it,” he mumbled againsat her lips again, a small breathy laugh leaving her lips before she deepened the kiss again.

~~~

Cole and Trevor stood side by side, mugs in both of their hands. They were trying to see who Y/N brought him. Whoever the mystery guy was hadn’t left yet, sleeping in astronomically late. 

Well for their house’s standards. It was nine in the morning and usually the whole house would be awake, especially Y/N.

“She’s still in there, are you sure she didn’t kick him out and leave?” Cole whispered loudly as he leaned into Trevor.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I was sure,” Trevor shot back in a hushed tone.

“Has she since–” he trailed off as he met Trevor’s gaze. 

“Yeah she’s had her rebounds,” Trevor mumbled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “It’s been a few months though,” he mumbled.

Cole cleared his throat before he brought the mug towards his lips. He took a long sip, “Is she okay? I feel like I should knock,” Cole whispered.

“If he was a creep then she would’ve told us,” Trevor mumbled before bringing his own mug towards his lips.

“She didn’t bring anyone home,” Quinn called out as he stood near the entrance to the hallway. Cole and Trevor both turned their eyes towards Quinn at the same time.

“What?” they whispered loudly.

“She only told you that because you were getting on her about ‘moving on’,” Quinn said with air quotes. 

“Well then who’s shoes are those?” he asked, pointing down towards the messily laid out shoes.

“Who’s–what?” Quinn let out as he took fast steps towards them. 

Suddenly, her door pulled open and a shirtless Jack was holding the door open. A gasp left all three of their lips. Quinn raised his hand up and held his hand against his chest. 

“Their mine,” Jack said before clearing his throat. “‘Scuse me,” he said as he stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Cole and Trevor pulled away from one another. They shared awkward glances as they watched Jack walk towards his bedroom, stepping inside. 

They all tried to form sentences but the shock of seeing Jack inside of her room was enough to keep them all frozen with confusion. “He left his shoes,” Cole muttered as he looked down towards them still by the door. 

Suddenly, her door was pushed open, her eyes widened to see the three boys standing outside of her door. “Creepy, all of you,” she mumbled as she pointed an accusatory finger to each of them. “Excuse me,” she muttered as she squeezed past them carrying her clothes. 

“We thought you had a stranger in there! We wanted to be sure you were alive!” Cole defended, “It’s not creepy! It’s caring!”

“God, I should’ve gone to the gym with Lukey,” Quinn said, shaking his head as he walked back into the living room. Cole and Trevor were muttering to one another in the center of the hallway. “Leave them alone,” Quinn called out as he walked towards the kitchen. 

“But–”

“Leave them alone! They’ll tell us when they’re ready!” Quinn called out. 

“They practically already did!” Cole protested.

“Leave them alone!” Quinn scolded them again. The pair let out defeated breaths as they stumbled out of the hallway.

For the next hour, the three of them were talking, more like gossiping about Jack and Y/N. Trying to find puzzle pieces from last summer and the slim information of the last twenty hours. Trevor was trying to convince Quinn and Cole that it was actually happening since the moment they both set foot into the house. 

Y/N sat at her vanity, running her fingers through her wet hair. She could hear the faint sounds of all of them arguing over her and Jack through the walls. Her face was covered in moisture as she was doing her post-clubbing routine. It was an everything shower that rejuvenated herself from the events of the night before.

There was a soft knock on her door as her body straightened. “Come in,” she mumbled. She spun her head around to see Jack walk into her room. His hair was dripping wet as his frame was covered with tight jeans and t-shirt. “Hey,” she let out quietly, a small smile formed on her lips.

He leaned against the door, pressing his back against it as. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I got scared,” he muttered. She stood up from the vanity seat as she kept her distance from him.

He swallowed harshly as he dropped his gaze towards the floor, “When you asked for a reason, I didn’t know how to tell you I was falling in love with you,”

“Jack,” she mumbled.

“I was falling in love with you and all I could see was you running away with one of my best friends,” 

“I wasn’t–”

“I know, but I was so convinced that you were running far away from me,” he let out softly as he watched her walk towards him. “But I realized last night that I was pushing you away,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. She was still making her way towards him slowly, he was not aware of how close she was getting to him.

“I get jealous so easily but I think it’s because you were never really mine,” he explained further as he dropped his hands to the side. She nodded as she walked closer to him, “I got a taste of it last summer and I let you go. I shouldn’t have let you go. I’m sorry,” he let out, tossing his arms to the side.

“Jack,” she mumbled as she was directly in front of him. He swallowed harshly as he scanned her features. His breathing quickened as he watched her lips curl upward slightly. 

“Did you say you were falling in love with me?” she let out barely above a whisper. He hummed as his gaze lowered towards her lips. “Fucking finally,” she said as she leaped towards him, careful of his shoulder as she pressed her lips against his urgently.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she mumbled against his lips.

[witherby]

I love your Littlest Wayne series! I was just wondering, can Connor still hear mouse when she is in the shadows? Like, how would he react if she suddenly used her powers and he couldn't hear her anymore?

Ohhhh I LOVE THIS PROMPT. Let's explore that!

More Conner x Gender Neutral!Reader coming up~

Littlest Wayne: Signs of Life

Masterlist is Here!

Conner uses your heartbeat to lull himself to sleep. Its steady cadence is an anchor point for him when he's overwhelmed, or when he misses you, or when he wants to know where you are. Its calm, consistent thumping is always in the back of his mind, even when he isn't consciously listening for it.

So when he cracks his eyes open out of a dead sleep, groggy and confused, it takes him entirely too long to realize that he woke up because can't hear you anymore.

He's at Wayne Manor in seconds, uncaring of the alarms he's tripping in his haste to get to you, and hovering anxiously in the air when he finds your bedroom unoccupied. When Hal blearily stumbles in and asks him why he's in his youngest's room in the middle of the night again, and to please stop doing that because it's very inappropriate, Conner grips his shoulders too tight and blurts out the first coherent thought in his mind.

"I can't hear them!"

Hal rubs the sleep from his eyes, unphased. "Kid, I don't know what —"

"I can't hear their heartbeat."

The alertness is there now. Hal pushes his hands away and goes to the bed, pulling the covers back.

"The sheets are cold. Stay here, I'm getting Bruce."

Conner zips out of the room and pulls Bruce from his bed, then sets him back on the floor before Hal can even finish turning towards the door.

"Help me find them!" He snaps in a panic. Bruce blinks heavily, but it doesn't take him long to realize there's an emergency.

"When did you stop hearing them?" Bruce asks, glancing around your room. The only sign of disturbance is the window Conner came through, which was closed prior to his arrival. Bruce starts examining the space around your bed, wondering if you simply slipped into your pocket dimension or if something actually happened, and Hal leaves to go grab his ring so he can scan the area.

"Eight minutes ago. I woke up because I couldn't hear their heartbeat anymore, Bruce. I've never not been able to hear them before, I can't see them or detect their heat signature —"

"Superboy," Bruce says firmly, "deep breaths. It's extremely likely that they're still alive, but you can't help track them down if you're panicking."

Conner takes deep breaths. A little too deep. When he exhales the wind almost pushes Bruce over. He glares at Conner, who grimaces and flies back through the window to breathe outside instead.

"Where are you..." He whispers, frowning. He wraps his arms around his waist in a facsimile of a hug and closes his eyes, trying to center himself.

It'll be fine. Bruce and Hal don't seem to be frightened (they aren't a good base to compare to anyway, being seasoned vigilantes trained not to panic in stressful situations) and they aren't making any attempts to reach out to other League members for backup. It'll be fine. You're alive somewhere, Conner just can't hear you or see you or smell you or sense you or —

Deep breaths, he reminds himself. Focus. Just breathe and keep looking. They're fine. They're safe. They're....on the moon.

No fucking way.

Conner opens his eyes, incredulous. He listens for your heartbeat again, expanding his hearing outside of Earth.

There it is. The steady thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump he's grown to love is on the dark side of the goddamn moon. Like metal to a magnet, he follows the sound of you up, and up, and up, until he breaches the atmosphere and enters space. Then flies even further still, until his socked feet touch down onto the rocky surface.

"You scared the shit out of me," he snaps, when what he meant to say was "I'm so relieved you're okay."

A lumpy patch of darkness, darker than the rest of the ground, wobbles a little and inches forward until it's tickling Conner's toes. You move like you're unused to the terrain. It only makes him angrier.

"...a w a k e...w h y..."

"It's your fault," he says, hands shaking so bad he clenches them into fists. "I woke up with this huge sense of dread. Something was wrong, every bone in my body knew it. And I realized I couldn't hear your heart anymore."

He presses his fists to his eyes, applying pressure until bursts of color dance behind closed lids. They're burning, and not from the threat of head vision.

"I thought you were — I couldn't find —" he shakes his head and gasps your name. He feels that same tickling sensation on his feet again, more insistent. He steps away from your shadow. "Do you know how terrifying that was? To wake up and not find a single sign of life!? It's the middle of the night, and you're out here just — just on the moon!! On THE moon, the one in outer space!! When did you even find out you could travel off-planet!?"

"...y e s t e r d a y...p r a c t i c i n g..."

"Leave a note next time!" Conner says. He wants to throw something. Wants to kick the moon apart. Wants to drag you from the darkness and never let you out of his arms. "Leave a text! Tell someone something before you do this again!!"

"...i p r o m i s e...s o r r y C o n n e r..."

This time, when your darkness reaches for him, Conner allows himself to be pulled under and into your tight embrace. He floats in absolute darkness with you, soothing himself with your heartbeat.

When you return to your room, Bruce and Hal find you and Conner in each other's arms and sleeping away.

[waynes-multiverse]

So excited to dive into this one!! Literally had it on my tbr forever 😍😍

First of all, I was already so intrigued by her job from the summary! And those coded text messages? Nice!! This is exactly my jam! Gimme backdoor doctor patch work, please 😎

I can fit you in. More complicated the patch, the more it’ll cost. Not an issue.

I feel like a gold digger, but for some reason, Russell's response turned me on loll

“I am,” you said, offering him a brief smile, he returned. “Do you have any PTSD? Going to come at me if I I need to use a scalpel?”

Love her confidence! She's such a badass 🖤 (And well deserved – the way she figured out what he had gotten into by the blood spatter was amazing! My jaw dropped like Russell's lol)

“Yes it is and here’s a friendly reminder for my new client. You come anywhere near me with your dick out, I’ll make you regret being alive. Understand, sweetie?” you said, patting his cheek. “Off you go.” “God damn, I love you,” he muttered under his breath.

Hahaha their whole exchange had me rolling 😂 I'm a firm believer that little moron (lovingly) needs someone (more stubborn) to tell him what to do 😝 (in general, I always think JA characters need a little tough love lol)

Totally can see why he's already smitten with her. I'm with him 💯🫶

“A thousand.” To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at that number.

Yup, happened again. There's something wrong with me... 😂

“You really like telling me what to do, don’t you,” he grinned.

He can't stop either, can he? His persistency and sheer honesty was so sweet and refreshing, too. He was straight up, "Yup, let's get down to business. When do you wanna get married, ma#am?" A man this deadly should honestly not be this adorkable. It's a crime 😆 You write him so in character! Totally reminded me of those poor attempts with Reenie!

And then wanting to help her and instantly picking up on her vibe was so pure Russell! And hey, we do love a rough guy with a soft core 😏

“Go buy me two more cheese danishes and a large caramel frappe to go. Then take me to your motel room. This is a long fucking story.”

Gaaaaah! I'm so excited for the next part! What the hell has she gotten into? Who would force her into this job? Cartel? Mob? Horizon themselves?? 👀

This is such an amazing start! I'm completely hooked!!! 🩵🩵🩵

He's My Man (Part 1)

Summary: The reader receives an anonymous text from a new client needing an off the books patch job. However he's annoyingly good looking and the last thing you need is some ex-special ops guy hanging around. Unfortunately for you, Russell Shaw isn't the kind of guy to walk away when he knows something's wrong...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury

A/N: Contains minor spoilers for Tracker 1x12. Please enjoy the start of this new series! I'm not sure how long it will go but thanks for coming on this ride with me!

__________

Your ears perked up on Saturday morning when your phone buzzed on the coffee table before you. Not your everyday one but your one for work. You swiped it open, pursing your lips when you saw it was from an unknown number.

Need a patch job on a quilt. Doug recommended you as a good seamstress in the area.

Alright, well at least this guy knew one of your clients. Doug wasn’t a regular but you’d seen him once or twice over the years which meant the person on the other end wasn’t a cop most likely.

I can fit you in. More complicated the patch, the more it’ll cost.

Not an issue.

You hummed and stood up, grabbing your coffee mug along the way.

129 Edwards Ave in twenty minutes. Use the red back door.

You took a long sip and went over to the kitchen, tossing the rest down the sink, leaving the mug to be cleaned later. 

You just hoped this job wasn’t as bad as the last one.

Eighteen minutes later you heard the back door open and then silence, a moment’s hesitation as your new client entered what looked like a storage area. You flipped a light switch, illuminating the small enter sign over the doorway to the room you were prepping in. A few moments later there were heavy boots against the cement ground as he entered, turning to tile, your head lifting. 

A man in his forties, a quite handsome one at that, gave the small operating room a cursory glance before settling on you, determining you were the only one there. Meanwhile your gaze shot to his injured left arm, a gunshot from the looks of it. You only spotted one bloody bullet hole and figured that was the worst of it from the way he cradled his forearm.

“You the seamstress?” he asked quietly, scanning the counter full of medical equipment and metal table in the center of the room. 

“Take a seat,” you said, patting the table. You went to a sink and washed up, making sure to keep him in view at all times. He winced and struggled to get the coat off, finally managing and revealing a quick patch job had been done. After drying your hands, you snapped on some gloves, the man’s coat and overshirt now on the table behind him.

“Russell Shaw by the way,” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, carefully taking his forearm in one hand, the top of his muscular bicep in the other. You turned his arm slightly, Russell wincing again. “Looks like a through and through. We’ll do a quick x-ray to make sure there’s no shrapnel and then we’ll get you stitched up and I’ll send you home with some supplies and instructions to care for it. This your only injury?”

“Yeah. Doug said you were good.”

“I am,” you said, offering him a brief smile, he returned. “Do you have any PTSD? Going to come at me if I I need to use a scalpel?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m good with all that.”

You hummed, guiding him to lay back. Three minutes later you were pushing your x-ray machine aside and taking the lead vest away, Russell sitting upright. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“You can ask, don’t mean I’ll answer, sweetie,” you said back, hanging up the vest and going to your laptop on the counter.

“How does one get into this line of work?” he asked.

“Asks the man that’s ex-special ops and does private contract gigs, not to mention killed probably three people minimum tonight.” You glanced over to him, Russell tilting his head. “I know who Doug is and what he does. Makes sense you do it too. You have blood under your fingernails and given the splatter patterns on your jeans, you had multiple different angled shots so multiple bodies you hit.”

“...And you don’t report that sort of thing?” he asked cautiously. You determined his x-ray looked good and washed up again, putting on more new gloves. By the time you were standing before him again, he looked nervous.

“On occasion. But only the monsters. You, you don’t strike me as a monster, Russell,” you said, wiping some antiseptic over his entry and exit wounds. He flinched but only slightly at the quick burn. A moment later you were giving him something to numb the area.

“Someone took Doug. Someone bad. They would have come back if I hadn’t done what needed to be done.” You wiped sterile gauze over his wound and then flushed it, Russell watching your graceful movements with interest.

“Like I said, not a monster.” You hummed as you worked, Russell fixated on you carefully cleaning and then pulling the skin back together, tying it up neatly. You wiped away the evidence of his blood and wrapped his bicep in thick gauze, taping it down so he could still get movement without worrying about it coming off.

You chucked your gloves in the trash and nodded back to the door behind you.

“There’s a shower in there and some brushes. Turn it on low, scrub yourself clean, under your nails too. Use the blue soap. When you’re done, throw everything away in the bin, including your bloody clothes. You leave your boots, anything you want to keep out here with me. There’s men’s sweats and some shirts on the shelf. By the time you’re done, your boots and other items will have no trace of wherever you’ve been. Got it?”

“I do like a woman that takes charge.” He smirked, sliding off the table and dropping slowly to kneel to unlace his shoes, still looking up at you. “Full service deal you got going here.”

“Yes it is and here’s a friendly reminder for my new client. You come anywhere near me with your dick out, I’ll make you regret being alive. Understand, sweetie?” you said, patting his cheek. “Off you go.”

“God damn, I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You rolled your eyes but smirked when your back was to him. Ten minutes later the room was clean and Russell exited the bathroom with damp, slicked back hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, black hanes sweat pants and white socks. You nodded to where his shoes sat on the end of the counter, Russell taking a seat in the chair nearby as he slipped them on.

After he checked he had his phone, keys and wallet, he raised himself to his feet, pulling out his wallet. 

“What do I owe you?”

“A thousand.” To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at that number. But like most of your clients, he didn’t have the cash on him, at least not that much. Russell smirked as he glanced back in the bathroom.

“Smart woman. You keep the evidence as ransom until your clients pay up. You won’t destroy that until after I pay, will you.” 

“Not until we get to know each other better do I do that sort of thing without payment. Seeing as you’re new and a friend of Doug’s, I’ll give you to the end of next week to pull it together. I offer payment plan options and other alternative forms of care if shit ever really hit the fan for you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, putting down five hundred dollar bills. “I can bring the other half back here later today. Just need to run to an ATM.”

“Text me when you got the rest. I’ll send you a place to meet,” you said, nodding towards the door. He gave you a small salute and shook his head with a smile. 

Forty minutes later you were sitting at a table in the cafe three blocks over, happily sipping on your coffee while working your way through a cheese danish. You spotted Russell when he came in. He gave you a quick, adorably awkward wave and ordered himself a drink. A few minutes later he was sitting down across from you, a small cup and what appeared to be a banana muffin in hand.

“You’re a coffee snob aren’t you. This place is pricey,” he teased, his brow furrowing when he had a drink from his styrofoam cup. “Shit. That’s fucking good.”

“Beats whatever motel crap I’m sure you’re used to,” you said, his gaze hardening for a split second. “Sorry. I always tail my first time clients to make sure they aren’t…you know who. You know the Elkwood Lodge on route 8 is cleaner and cheaper than what you’re paying for now.”

“How would you know that?” he asked. You shrugged and simply grinned, taking another bite of danish. He licked his lips, pointing at the yet to be touched danish beside you. “Was that one for me?”

“God no. I fucking love danishes and these are incredible,” you said, finishing off the first and biting into the other.

“You are something else,” he said, smirking when he slid a white envelope across the table. You tucked it into your jacket pocket, Russell picking at his own muffin. “You ain’t going to check it’s all there?”

“You’re a smart man, Russell. I think you know not to screw me over.” He looked you up and down, earning a pointed response. “Keep that gutter mind to yourself.”

“If I’m in the gutter, you’re right there with me,” he said, absently rubbing his injured arm. “And uh, if it gets infected or I think it is, I should reach out?”

“Absolutely. That ain’t a normal injury you’re used to. Don’t play tough guy, tough guy.” He nodded, his body twisting ever so slightly towards a standing position. “Nope. Stay for at least five minutes, then you can go.”

“You really like telling me what to do, don’t you,” he grinned. 

“Russell.” Hss grin was wide before he took a long drag of coffee, humming as it went down. 

“What if I want to stay more than five minutes?” You paused mid-chew of your danish. “Come on, one conversation won’t kill you.”

“I don’t get involved with clients.”

“Alright. I respect that but this ain’t my end goal. I’m going to have a normal life someday. I make a pretty mean homebrew. Going to get some land, open up a brewery, have some food, make it a little family place everybody can enjoy. So that’s my goal. I sure as hell know working as a seamstress ain’t your end goal either. So again, what’s the harm in one conversation?”

You bit your bottom lip, Russell’s expression changing, ever so slightly. 

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “What-“

“Shut up,” you mumbled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your fucking face did. You don’t want to be a seamstress, do you? Can you not get out of your line of work?” You glanced out the window, even the wonderful flavors of the pastry doing nothing to help the unease in your gut. “I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped. You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Sorry. I…I’m just crabby because I didn’t have my morning coffee until just now.”

“Nice try.” You glared at him, his green eyes remarkably gentle. “I don’t leave my friends behind. Now either you tell me what’s going on or I’m going to poke around myself and I guarantee that’s going to be a lot more dangerous and you’ll just have to patch me up even more. What do you say?”

You stared at him and stared at him and stared at him for what felt like forever. Then you took out the envelope and handed it back to him, along with the five hundred in your purse. 

“Go buy me two more cheese danishes and a large caramel frappe to go. Then take me to your motel room. This is a long fucking story.”

__________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[klausysworld]

Hiii I absolutely love your oneshots. Can you please do one with Elijah mikaelson. Similar to your klaus one shot about the reader having a lack in height.. Elijah is OBSESSED. Reader could be like (4’10 to 5’1?)

Uncontrollable Love

It shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just looking at her made him stir. 

It had gotten to the point where even Niklaus was teasing him about it all.

Whenever Y/N would leave the room Elijah’s eyes would follow and someone would snicker. 

He hadn’t realised quite how tiny she was the first couple times, Y/N always seemed to be sitting the first few encounters so when he had been too focused on sorting out his cufflinks and bumped into her, he didn’t realise who it was.

Not until she spun back around and called out his name with a smile on her face.

“Oh..” He breathed, Elijah hadn’t remembered the last time he’d been at such a loss for words but looking down at her he was. Y/N barely reached his chest, let alone being at eyeline. Her head was tilted all the way back, looking up at him with such a sweetness that it made his dead heart thump quickly. His head shook a little, trying to urge his thoughts back. “Y/N.” He nodded, “Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” His throat cleared, he felt like he sounded funny. Did he sound different? Was his voice too high? Too deep?

He wasn’t so sure and he could feel the bead of sweat on his forehead.

“That’s okay, neither was I.” She smiled, holding up her phone as if to show him what she had been looking at. Her expression shifted, a slight frown and it made him worry more. “Oh did I mess up your tie? I’m sorry, I must've knocked it somehow.” Y/N reached up as she said so, her arms stretched up to straighten his tie. 

Her fingers were so close to him, almost touching him. Usually he was very possessive of his belongings, especially his extensive tie collection but he couldn’t help but want her to stroke every inch of fabric he owned.

He couldn’t take it, just watching her. It was straining him.

Without a word he had left the room, leaving her confused but she simply shrugged it off and went on her way.

From that day he couldn’t help but imagine her with him all the time.

Wondered how she’d look snuggled up against him, gods he’d be able to wrap his body all the way around her. 

He’d imagine her sitting on his lap, straddling him. Her thighs stretched open as she looked up at him with her big eyes. It made him throb.

Every morning he had to reach over her, grab the cereal and pass it down to her and every time he couldn’t help but let himself press against the back of her. 

At lunch he’d get too nervous that she might slip and slice her finger off when she cut her sandwich in half so he’d hastily make his way down the stairs and grab the knife before she could. She’d laugh, such a bubbly laugh that would make his heart clench and she’d tell him that she wasn’t a small child but he could always see the level of comfort and enjoyment she took when he sliced her sandwich into two triangles and shifted them onto a plate for her. 

Once dinner rolled around he’d be all over her in the kitchen. He’d lift her onto the counter, watching her legs swing back and forth as he slid the herbs across to her when she asked for them. 

She’d talk so much to him then, and he would always listen of course. It was impossible not to pay attention to her, her voice was addictive. But he also couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He just wanted to hold her, feel her, know that she was his.

Pure and utter joy would fill him when his brother announced another event they were throwing.

It meant Y/N would be held against his chest, letting him lift her off the ground and dance her all around the room like she was just a petal in the wind. In addition to that, at the end of those events, Elijah was almost guaranteed a kiss from her. 

He’d walk her back up the stairs, her dainty hands clutching his bicep as she spoke to him about how lovely the evening had been. Once they got to her bedroom he’d clear his throat, a faint smile creeping on his lips but he needed to keep it back.

Y/N would tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit Elijah had discovered, and look up at him through her lashes. 

“Thank you for being with me all night.” She’d whisper, her foot sliding in and out of her heel, another habit, before she’d reach up to wrap her fingers around his tie. Elijah would always have to hold his breath so he wouldn’t let out a groan.

She’d tug him down and he’d eagerly lean so that their lips could meet. 

Always soft and innocent but would linger slightly too long for it to mean something casual. 

His hand would hold her waist, he felt as though he could fit her in one hand. 

“Goodnight Elijah.” Her voice would utter before she disappeared into the confines of her room.

Elijah would have to sit as quietly as he could in his reading chair, his hair damp as he stroked himself like a desperate animal. His hips would jump as though somehow he’d lost the control over himself that he had trained himself to have over centuries. 

It took him an embarrassingly long time to finally cave to his feelings and bring her to his bed. But once he had her, he knew she’d never be able to leave him. 

Elijah was in a state when her legs wrapped around him, his hands traced the short length of her body over and over and she knew how much he loved her size. Especially once her fingers were trying to wrap around his cock, the contrased made his hips just. Watching her pretty pink lips stretch around the head made his hands tangle in her hair, he just couldn’t believe what was happening.

Even once he was deep inside her, he couldn’t help but watch as his cock disappear inside her over and over, he could feel her pussy stretching around him. He looked so big between her legs.

Y/N moaned and whined like a needy whore and it made him crazy.

“Just desperate to be split in two by my big cock, aren’t you baby?” he would taunt against her ear, relishing in the way she would clench around him. 

Once she finished around him, he would pump her full of his cum, not once tearing his gaze away from how it all spilled out of her.

Elijah was a carer, that much was evident just with his siblings but with Y/N he was even more so.

He never wanted her walking, holding her tight instead, needing her legs around his waist all the time and arms over his neck. He needed her to need him, to cling to him like his soul would cling to hers.

[natsaffection]

Redline. Pt 4 | N.R

Older!Motorsportboss!Natasha x Younger!Racing!Driver! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (N= 32, r=23), sexual tension, intentional crash

Word count: 10,3k

A/N: Okay…just 2 more chapters to go! Today, we’re focusing more on the dynamics between everyone. Aaand..don’t come at me for the ending!🧎🏻‍♀️

Part 3

The heat from the track still lingered in the air as you walked beside your father, the gravel crunching under your boots with every slow step. Neither of you spoke at first. The pit lane was behind you now, the silence stretching between you, heavy with everything unspoken.

Your hands were shoved deep into your fire suit pockets, your pulse still uneven from the confrontation with Natasha, her words, her touch, her smirk still lingering like a brand on your skin. You glanced at your father, jaw tight. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Instead, his gaze stayed on the track ahead, the smooth asphalt, the sharp curves, the very place that had nearly taken you away from him once. “I wanted to see you race.”

Your chest tightened. “Dad-”

“Your test race was good.”

That stopped you. Your brows furrowed slightly, your steps faltering. Of all the things you expected, that wasn’t it. You turned to him, your voice careful. “You think so?”

His lips pressed together, his expression unreadable, Romanoff-like in his control. Then, after a moment, he nodded. “Very good.” The words should have made you feel proud. But there was something else beneath them. Something heavier. Something hesitant.

Your stomach twisted. “But?” His sigh was slow. Controlled. Measured. “But I still have doubts.”

The honesty stung more than it should have. You swallowed, looking back at the track, your fingers curling inside your pockets. “You don’t think I should be here.” It wasn’t a question. Because you already knew the answer.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his jaw before finally looking at you. “It’s not about what I think, Y/n. It’s about what this does to you.”

Your throat tightened. “I can handle it.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes studying you, seeing through you like he always did. “Can you?” The words hit deeper than you wanted them to. Because even after everything, even after clawing your way back, after surviving the rehab, after proving to the world that you were still here, there was still that one small part of you that wasn’t sure.

You blinked hard, looking away before he could see it. “Mom doesn’t think I can, does she?” His jaw tensed. That was all the confirmation you needed. “She hates it.” The words sat between you, heavy and unmoving. You exhaled sharply, your fingers flexing at your sides. “Of course, she does.”

He sighed. “Y/n-”

“No, I get it.” Your voice came out flat, bitter. “She spent a year watching me relearn how to fucking walk. She spent a year seeing me break down because I couldn’t even lift my own body weight anymore. She was there when the doctors told me that my career was over.” You swallowed hard, the memory of it clawing at the back of your mind. “So yeah. I get it.”

Your father sighed, stopping in his steps. You followed suit, keeping your gaze locked on the track ahead, refusing to let him see the way your hands were shaking. “She was scared.” His voice was softer now, edged with something tired. “She still is.”

“So are you.” He didn’t deny it. That said enough. Another long silence stretched between you, the weight of everything unspoken pressing hard against your ribs. Then, his voice changed. “Romanoff.”

You blinked, turning toward him. “What about her?” His gaze was unreadable again, calculating. “She’s difficult.” You huffed out a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket. “Is she treating you right?” The question made your breath hitch. Not because it was strange. But because it was the first time he had acknowledged Natasha at all.

You looked away, exhaling slowly. “She’s…” You hesitated. Because how the hell were you supposed to explain Natasha? The woman who pushed you to your limits. The woman who made you want to scream and fight and prove her wrong every second you were on the track. The woman who, despite everything, had kept you here. “She’s tough.”

“Tough isn’t the same as fair.”

You clenched your jaw, voice quiet. “She’s fair enough.” Your father hummed slightly, unconvinced. Then, he exhaled, looking at you for a long moment before finally nodding. “Be careful with her.”

Something in your chest tightened. Because he wasn’t talking about racing anymore. You knew that. And so did he. Looking back at the track, at the curve ahead, the stretch of asphalt that had nearly ended you once. Then, you exhaled, forcing the tension in your shoulders to ease. “I will.”

——

The moment the call came, you didn’t hesitate. You were in Natasha’s office within seconds. Not a second early. Not a second late. You weren’t going to give her another reason to tear into you.

The confrontation from the track still burned in your mind, the fire in her eyes, the way she had dragged you out of the car, ripped into you with the kind of rage only Natasha Romanoff could wield. You had pushed back. But she had pushed harder. And now? Now, you weren’t about to give her another excuse to throw you around like a chess piece.

You knocked once and firm, “Come in.” came through the heavy wood. Stepping inside, you braced yourself for another heated lecture, another round of Natasha pushing you to the brink. Instead, you stopped. Your brows furrowed as your eyes landed on the sleek leather couch, where a row of carefully curated outfits lay waiting. Dresses. Suits. Something in between. Sleek. Expensive. And entirely unexpected.

Natasha stood behind her desk, arms crossed, watching you like she was waiting for a reaction. You exhaled, tilting your head. “Are we throwing a fashion show now?”

She didn’t blink. “Try them on.”

It wasn’t a request. Your lips parted slightly, but before you could ask, her expression hardened, not angry, not quite daring, just expecting. So, you swallowed down the million questions burning at the tip of your tongue and moved toward the outfits. You weren’t stupid. You did what you were told.

The first outfit was too stiff. The second? Too formal. The third? Too boring. But the fourth? That one was perfect. Sleek black fabric hugged your form in all the right ways, polished, sharp, clean. It wasn’t a suit. It wasn’t a dress. It was somewhere in between. Powerful. Something that made you feel like you could stand next to anyone and not be overshadowed. You turned toward the mirror, adjusting the sleeves slightly before stepping back into the office.

Natasha was still at her desk, eyes scanning through a document. But the second she looked up, she stood. Green eyes flickered over you, sharp and unreadable, the weight of her gaze making your skin prickle.

“Can I touch you?”

Your breath caught slightly at the way she said it.. low, direct, careful. Your fingers twitched at your side. You nodded once. “Yeah.”

She stepped closer, movements effortless, controlled. One hand lifted, fingers barely grazing the fabric at your shoulder, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle. Then, she tugged the hem slightly, adjusting the fit. Her touch was warm, steady. Not rough like before. Not burning with frustration or anger. Just precise. Her fingers brushed along the edge of your sleeve, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

You swallowed, voice quieter than intended. “What’s this about?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned, walked back to her desk, slipped her pen into place with slow precision, then met your gaze again. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

Your stomach twisted. “Leaving?”

“Family dinner.”

The words settled heavily between you. You blinked, processing, feeling your pulse tick up slightly. The Romanoffs?? Everyone knew them. They weren’t just a wealthy family, they were a dynasty, a legacy built on power, wealth, and absolute control. And now, you were about to walk into their world. Natasha watched your reaction closely, smirk deepening slightly. “You know them.”

It wasn’t a question. You hesitated, keeping your voice careful. “Everyone does.”

Her head tilted slightly, amusement flickering across her face. “Are you a fangirl?”

Your jaw locked. “No.”

Her smirk widened, slow and knowing. “Hesitation says otherwise.” You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to keep steady. “Should I be worried?” Natasha considered that for a moment, then smiled. “That depends.”

You swallowed, hating the way she always made you feel like she had all the cards, like she had been three steps ahead of you since the moment you walked in. She picked up her phone, already moving toward the door, already in control of the next move. Then, just before stepping out, she glanced back at you, something dangerously amused in her eyes.

“Don’t be late.” she murmured. “Wouldn’t want Mommy to think you don’t belong.” Your breath hitched. She saw it and she loved it. Then, she was gone. Leaving you standing there, pulse hammering in your ears, knowing full well that this wasn’t just dinner.

The car ride was tense, but not in the usual way. This wasn’t the quiet before a storm, the steady focus before a race. This was heavier and charged with something deeper, something unspoken.

You sat in the back of one of Natasha’s luxury cars, the engine purring smoothly as it cut through the night. The interior smelled of leather and something distinctly hers. She sat beside you, legs crossed, posture straight, eyes fixed on her phone, the soft glow illuminating her features. She hadn’t spoken much since leaving the city, only issuing short, clipped commands to the driver.

Across from you, Yelena was the only one who seemed completely unbothered. She stretched out in her seat, arms folded behind her head, feet casually propped up against the console like this was just another errand. But it wasn’t. You were on your way to meet the Romanoffs. Not just Natasha. Not just Yelena. The whole dynasty.

Their empire stretched across industries that mattered. Finance. Defense. Technology. Racing. There wasn’t a single major sector that didn’t have a Romanoff signature buried somewhere in its foundation. And Natasha? She wasn’t just part of it. She was born into it.

You exhaled slowly, fingers twitching against your knee. Yelena caught the movement instantly, smirking. “Nervous?”

You met her gaze, forcing a casual shrug. “A little..”

She let out a short laugh. “If you screw up, they might not let you leave.”

Your stomach dipped. Natasha didn’t react, not outwardly. But the corners of her lips twitched slightly, like she was holding back amusement. Yelena grinned, clearly enjoying herself, but before she could respond, Natasha finally spoke. “Enough.”

Yelena rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, but didn’t push further. The car continued its smooth ascent, winding up the private road leading to the estate. The further you drove, the more surreal it became. The Romanoff property was massive, gated, guarded, the kind of wealth that didn’t just sit pretty but protected itself. Pristine landscaping stretched for miles, leading up to the mansion itself. A fortress of glass and steel, sleek and modern, an architectural masterpiece.

When the car pulled up to the entrance, the doors were already open. Natasha moved first, stepping out smoothly, slipping her phone into her pocket as she approached the woman waiting at the entrance. Melina. Natasha’s mother.

You had seen pictures of her before, but seeing her in person was different. She was graceful, poised, elegant, but there was something colder beneath it. Something sharp. A woman who had built herself into something untouchable. She spoke to Natasha first, her voice low, unreadable. Then, her gaze flickered to you.

For a second, she said nothing. Just studied you. Her eyes swept over you like she was calculating something, measuring. Then, a smile. Melina’s lips curved slightly, gaze sharp but not unkind. “Ah. So you’re the one who’s been giving my daughter so much trouble.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Natasha exhaled quietly, a breath through her nose. Not quite a sigh. Not quite amusement. Before you could scramble for a response, another voice cut in “Ah! There she is!”

You barely had time to react before a broad, shouldered man emerged from the house, grinning widely. Alexei. Natasha and Yelena’s father. You recognized him instantly, not just from pictures, but from history. A legend in his time. Ex-Racer. A force in the business world. A man who had built part of the Romanoff empire with nothing but sheer, stubborn will.

And yet, this was not the intimidating powerhouse you expected. Because the man was smiling. A full, wide, beaming smile. Like he had been waiting all day to meet you. He stepped forward without hesitation, eyes gleaming. “So! You’re the one who thinks she can handle my Natasha!”

Natasha’s exhale was louder this time. Melina took a long sip of her wine. Yelena, standing beside you, was grinning like a damn idiot. You scrambled for words. “I..uh-”

Alexei clapped a massive hand against your shoulder, nearly making you stumble forward. “She is small, but she looks tough! I like her!” You blinked. Natasha muttered something in Russian under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Melina sighed, already turning toward the dining room. “Come, before Alexei scares her off.”

The dining table was massive, stretching across the length of the room, its polished surface reflecting the warm glow of the chandeliers above. The entire setting felt surreal, like stepping into a world you weren’t meant to belong to, but here you were.

Seated between Natasha and Yelena, you could feel the weight of the Romanoff name pressing in from all sides. Melina sat at the head of the table, poised, watching. Across from you, Alexei cut into his steak with the ease of a man who had nothing to prove.

“So,” Alexei started, taking a massive bite, speaking around it like it was just another casual topic, “the championship race is coming up. You’re up against Walker, yes?”

You swallowed, gripping your fork a little tighter. “Yeah.”

Melina sipped her wine, tilting her head slightly. “Dreykov will be watching closely.” Natasha didn’t even look up. “Let him.”

Yelena smirked, leaning on her elbow. “I heard Walker’s already pissed about the competition.”

Alexei snorted. “Good! He should be worried.” Then, his sharp eyes flicked toward you. “Do you think you can beat him?”

The table went silent. Your pulse ticked up. Everyone was watching you. You met Alexei’s gaze head-on, steady, unwavering. “I know I can.”

Silence stretched, thick and expectant. Then, Alexei grinned. “Good answer.”

Natasha, beside you, didn’t react. But you felt her shift slightly. Like she had just gotten her answer too. Melina set her wine down with quiet precision. “You do realize this race isn’t just about you.”

Your jaw tightened. “I know.” She studied you, expression unreadable. “Do you?”

Alexei leaned forward, voice dropping just slightly. “If you win, Dreykov loses control of the narrative. If you lose? He buries you.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “She’s not losing.”

Melina remained still, unreadable. “You’re in a unique position, Y/n. Most drivers only fight for themselves. You? You’re carrying a legacy that isn’t even yours.” Your fingers curled around your napkin. “Then I’ll make it mine.”

Silence. Natasha finally looked at you. Really looked. Like she wasn’t expecting that answer. Like she might have just decided something. Like she saw something shift in you, something she wasn’t sure was there before.

The weight of her gaze settled deep, assessing, considering, then she leaned back, just slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing. And she smirked. Not just amusement. Not just approval. Something more. Something like certainty. Like she was finally seeing what she needed to see.

As the meal continued, you found yourself answering Alexei’s now more benign questions, he asked about your hometown, clearly trying to be friendly. It was awkward, but well-meaning. In return, you posed a timid question or two of your own, asking Melina how long they had owned the estate. Her answer involved a brief, fascinating tale of an old friend from the KGB days. With each exchange, the initial fear in your chest uncoiled a bit more.

Natasha eventually rejoined the conversation, albeit in a mild way. When you complimented the stew, saying it was delicious, she interjected quietly, “It’s Melina’s special recipe. We had it a lot when I was young.”

You glanced over, surprised to hear Natasha offer personal information so easily. Her lips twitched in a faint semblance of a smile, perhaps at a memory. Melina tilted her head, giving Natasha a fond look. “Natasha used to help me chop vegetables for it.” she added.

To your astonishment, Natasha didn’t scowl or roll her eyes. Instead, she let out a small huff that might have been a very reluctant laugh. “Only because you made me.” she protested under her breath, but there was no real heat in it. The tension that had clouded her features had ebbed away, replaced by something almost approachable.

You witnessed this shift with quiet amazement. The dinner that had begun with your stomach in knots was slowly turning into something you never expected: an insight into Natasha’s world, into a family that was far more complex than the intimidating facade they projected.

They aren’t all like Natasha. In fact, Natasha herself wasn’t even always like the stone-cold version of her you had seen out in the field, not here, not with her parents tempering her.

Melina caught your eye once more and gave you a nod paired with that small, reassuring smile. It silently said, you’re doing fine. In that moment, you felt a rush of gratitude and something almost like belonging. You straightened up a bit, no longer curled in on yourself, and even dared to genuinely smile back.

Finally, as plates emptied and the evening air settled coolly around you, the dinner came to a close. Alexei pushed back his chair, satiated and in high spirits from the meal and conversation. Melina began stacking a couple of plates, and you automatically stood. “Oh, let me help with that.” you offered, ever polite, eager to show you weren’t just a burden.

Melina shoed you away gently. “Nonsense, you’re our guest!” she insisted, but her tone was kind. Natasha stood as well, collecting the remaining glasses with efficient movements. “I’ll help.” she said, giving you a brief nod, not quite warm, but not cold either. Something more neutral. Maybe even respectful.

Alexei chortled. “I’ll escort our guest to the sitting room.” He looped an arm (carefully) around your shoulder to guide you out, treating you now like a comrade rather than a suspect.

As you left the dining room, you glanced back over your shoulder. At the end of the table, Natasha and Melina stood quietly stacking dishes, mother and daughter in a rare moment of stillness. Melina leaned in, saying something low to Natasha. You couldn’t hear the words, but you saw Natasha roll her eyes, and then smile. An actual smile. Small, fleeting, but real.

Melina chuckled softly in response, bumping her shoulder affectionately against Natasha’s. The sight stayed with you: Natasha Romanoff, so cold and fierce in the field, standing there allowing herself a moment of lightness with her mother.

You turned forward again as Alexei led you down the hall, a multitude of new impressions swirling in your mind. I was wrong about them, you thought with a mixture of relief and wonder. The Romanoffs aren’t an unbreakable wall of ice; they’re a family, with warmth sparking in unexpected places.

The drive back to Natasha’s track was silent, the weight of the evening pressing down on you like a storm cloud. The Romanoff estate faded into the night behind you, the dark road ahead stretching endlessly. Eight days. Eight days until the first real race, the one that would determine your starting position for the championship. The thought settled uneasily in your chest, coiling like a slow-burning fire.

Yelena hummed along to some song playing softly on the radio, seemingly unbothered by the tension lingering in the air. Natasha sat in the passenger seat, silent as ever, fingers scrolling across her phone, but you knew she wasn’t distracted. She never was. She was thinking, calculating, already planning your next move before you even took your next breath.

The faint glow of the track’s floodlights appeared in the distance, growing brighter as the car pulled into the lot. The closer you got, the heavier your limbs felt. The test race still lingered in your muscles, your body stiff with the memory of every sharp turn, every acceleration, every mistake. The second the car came to a stop, you reached for the door handle, desperate for fresh air, for movement-

“Not so fast.”

Natasha’s voice cut through the night, sharp and unwavering. You froze mid-step, turning to see her already out of the car, arms crossed, gaze locked onto you with that same unrelenting intensity. The air around her was different now. Heavier. You straightened instinctively. “What?”

She stepped closer, closing the space between you. “Training starts tomorrow. Six a.m.”

Your jaw tensed. “Tomorrow?”

Her brow lifted. “Did you think you were getting a break?” Exhaling through your nose, you clenched your fists at your sides. “No.”

A quiet hum. Head tilting slightly, Natasha’s expression remained unreadable. “Good. Because you don’t get one.”

There was something about the way she said it, like a warning and a promise all at once. Eight days until the race. And Natasha wasn’t wasting a single second. She turned on her heel, already walking toward the garage, leaving you standing there, pulse thrumming in your ears. Yelena strolled past, patting your shoulder with a smirk. “You should probably set an alarm.”

Day One: 5:59 a.m.

The alarm had barely registered before a hard knock echoed through your door. “Training started a minute ago.” Natasha’s voice was sharp as a blade. “Move.”

There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. You threw on your gear, barely pulling your shoes on before being dragged into the gym. It wasn’t just a warm-up. It wasn’t just conditioning. It was a full-throttle, no-mercy assault on your body.

Natasha stood in front of you, arms crossed, while one of the team’s personal trainers pushed you through a relentless circuit, strength, endurance, core. Every time you thought you could catch a breath, her voice sliced through the haze.

“Too slow.”

“Your reaction time is pathetic.”

“You think you can keep up with Walker like this?”

By the time you collapsed onto the mat, sweat dripping down your face, Natasha crouched beside you, looking far too composed for someone who had just watched you suffer. “You’ve got seven days left.” she murmured, eyes dark. “If you want to survive, stop acting like a rookie.”

Day Two:

Six a.m., and you were thrown onto the simulator. Split-second decision-making drilled into you until your reflexes burned. By noon, you were out on the track, repeating the same sector over and over. Every mistake? Restart. Every hesitation? Restart. Natasha’s voice cut through the radio like a blade. “You missed the apex.”

“Too aggressive, back off.”

“Again.”

Again.

Again.

Your body moved on autopilot, muscles screaming, exhaustion creeping in. When she finally called you back in, you pulled into the pit, stepping out of the car, legs trembling. Natasha barely glanced up from her tablet. “Get some sleep.” Even. Unmoved. “You’ll need it.”

Day Three:

The training room was dim, the only light coming from the massive screen flickering with images of drivers. Dreykov’s team. Rivals. Threats. Natasha stood in front, hands on the table, voice measured. “Know them. Study them. Every habit, every weakness, every mistake they’ve ever made. Learn their tells. If you don’t, they’ll rip you apart.”

She turned, gaze flicking toward you. “You want to be better than Walker?” Her voice dipped lower, deadlier. “Then you don’t just beat him on track. You get inside his head. Make him doubt. Make him hesitate.” You swallowed hard, nodding. Natasha’s lips curled, just barely.

Day Four:

Tires screamed against the asphalt as you pushed through another lap, the track lights blurring into streaks of color. Natasha stood on the pit wall, headset on, arms crossed. Watching. Tracking every movement, every sector time. She saw it now. The shift. The way you moved. The way you didn’t hesitate anymore.

The radio crackled. “Better.”

Not praise. Not exactly. But something. And from Natasha? That was enough.

Day Five:

A miscalculation. A slight overcorrection. One second, you were flying through the straight, next, the car twitched. The back end stepped out. The world tilted. Your breath hitched, flashes of your past crash slammed into your skull. You hesitated. And that was your mistake.

The car skidded onto the run-off area, tires screeching. You caught it, but by then, it was too late. Lap ruined.

“Get back in the pit.”

You swallowed, bringing the car in, already bracing yourself. The second you stepped out, Natasha was there. She wasn’t yelling. That was worse. “You hesitated.”

Your mouth went dry.

“Do that in the race, and you’re done.” Her voice was sharp, but there was something else beneath it. Something almost…dangerous. “Fix it.”

Hours later, your body felt like lead as you walked back to your room, exhaustion sinking into your bones after another brutal day of training. Every drill, every lap, every order had been pushed to the extreme by Natasha, like she was determined to break you. And now? You could barely move. You had one thought in mind, collapse into bed and sleep for the next century. But before you could open the door, her voice cut through the silence.

“Be ready by nine.”

You stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. Natasha stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed, looking completely unaffected by the relentless day she had put you through. “For what?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

“Photoshoot.”

You blinked. “…You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I joke?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Please tell me this is just a few shots for the team.” Her lips twitched. That was never a good sign. “FIA. Sponsors. Press. Magazine covers.”

You exhaled sharply, head tilting back. “I can barely stand, Natasha. How do you expect me to pose for a camera?” She stepped forward, stopping just in front of you. Close enough that you could feel her heat. Her eyes flickered over you, assessing, calculating.

“You’ll manage.” And with that, she turned, walking away without another word, leaving you standing there, completely and utterly trapped.

Day six:

The next morning, you found yourself in a massive, high-end studio. Bright lights. White backdrops. Rows of expensive cameras and flashing bulbs. Everything screamed control. And in the middle of it all, Natasha, commanding the entire room. She stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching every single detail.

Every movement, every adjustment, every pose, she dictated all of it. When the crew hesitated, she fixed it. When the angles weren’t perfect, she adjusted them. Her presence was everywhere, in everything. And you hadn’t even stepped in front of the camera yet. This wasn’t just a photoshoot. This was a fucking mission.

Your first set was classic, controlled. You stood against the sleek backdrop in your race suit, arms crossed, chin high. The photographer and Natasha called out instructions.

“Look strong. Confident. Eyes sharp.”

“Fix your posture.”

Natasha’s voice cut through the room like a blade. Your jaw tightened. She was standing just off-camera, her gaze laser-focused on you.

“Shoulders squared.”

You adjusted. “Chin up.” You exhaled slowly, adjusting again. “Now hold it.”

You held it. The cameras flashed, one after another, capturing every angle. You could feel her watching you. Not just monitoring. Not just observing. Watching. Studying.

Next came the full team shots. You stood in the center, surrounded by the entire Romanoff Racing crew, mechanics, engineers, strategists. A wall of power. A force. The Romanoff insignia blazed behind you. The photographer adjusted his lens.

“Closer together. Stronger stance.”

You stepped forward, shoulders squared. The flashes erupted, capturing everything. You could feel the weight of it. The responsibility. The legacy you were now a part of.

Now, it was Natasha's turn and Jesus Christ. She stepped onto the set, a black suit, tailored to absolute perfection. She didn’t pose. Didn’t adjust. She just existed. And the entire room bent to her. The camera didn’t just capture her, it obeyed her. Her stance was effortless, natural, lethal. Her eyes sharp, lips pressed together in a look of absolute control.

And when she leaned against the car, one hand resting on the frame, the other tucked into her pocket, expression unreadable, you had to look away. Because holy shit..

Your fingers twitched at your sides. Your stomach flipped. And suddenly, you weren’t breathing right. You forced yourself to focus on something, anything else. The camera flashes. The set crew. But your eyes kept drifting back.

And then, she turned her head. And caught you. Your breath hitched. For one unbearable second, neither of you moved. She didn’t smirk. Didn’t say anything. Just looked. And then, she moved on. Leaving you standing there, heart pounding.

Then came the part you weren’t prepared for. You. And Natasha. Together. The photographer waved you forward. “Alright, side by side. Look strong, look dominant.”

You took your place beside her. And immediately, something was off. “Closer.” the photographer instructed.

Natasha shifted beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. Your breath caught. Your muscles tensed. The camera clicked. Natasha glanced at you, brow furrowing slightly.

“Break. Ten minutes.” The team scattered. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to move. Before you could step away, Natasha’s voice stopped you. “What’s wrong?”

You froze. Your back was still to her, but you knew she was watching and waiting. You rolled your shoulders, forcing a casual shrug. “Nothing..” you muttered. “Just exhausted.”

Lie. Natasha wasn’t stupid. She saw right through you. Her eyes flickered over your face, searching, calculating. You knew you were caught. So you wiggled your shoulder slightly, brushing it off.

Natasha’s lips pressed together. She didn’t believe you. But she didn’t push. She just watched and something in her expression..something unreadable, something almost amused, made your stomach twist.

The photographer called you both back onto set, your stomach tightened again. “Alright, last round of shots. This time, we go for dominance!” the photographer instructed, adjusting the lighting. You swallowed hard. Natasha stepped up beside you. Close. Not too close. But close enough. “Cross your arms.” the photographer said.

You did. Natasha did too. Side by side. Like two weapons, locked and loaded. Another click. Another flash. “Now turn toward each other slightly.”

You’re kidding..You hesitated, just for a second. But Natasha didn’t. She shifted, her posture unwavering. Her sharp green eyes locked onto you, steady and unreadable. You mirrored her. Straightened your spine. Tilted your head slightly. The camera flashed again.

“Alright, I want something more intense. Y/n, look straight at the camera. Natasha, glance at her.” Your pulse jumped. But you did it. Held your stance. Held your breath. Just a few more minutes..! You were sweating at this point.

Natasha turned her head slightly, just enough to follow the instruction. The way her gaze landed on you, like she was assessing. Calculating. Waiting for you to break.

The shutter clicked. The camera caught it. And suddenly, you felt it too. This wasn’t just a team photo. This was a power move. A statement. The air between you was too charged. You could see it now. And so could everyone else in the room.

The photographer stepped back. “That’s the one.”The crew murmured in agreement. You exhaled slowly. “Alright.” Natasha said, stepping away first. “That’s enough.”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The crew started packing up, cameras shutting down, the studio buzzing with movement. Natasha, as always, was already ahead of everyone. She stood at the monitors, scrolling through the raw images with the lead photographer.

You were halfway through unzipping your race suit when you heard her voice. “Y/n, come here.”

You hesitated. Took a breath. Then walked over. The screen displayed a row of thumbnails, hundreds of photos from the shoot. The first few were standard. You in your race suit, alone. The team standing beside you. You adjusting your helmet. You leaning against the car.

Then came Natasha’s. The black suit. The sharp gaze. The effortless power. You looked away but when Natasha clicked on the last image. The one with both of you. Your stomach tightened. It was..intimidating. You stood tall, shoulders squared, your expression unreadable. And Natasha? She was beside you, turned slightly, looking at you instead of the camera.

It wasn’t a casual glance. It was calculated. Deliberate. Like she was analyzing every move, every breath, every inch of control you had. It looked… powerful. More than that, it looked like something else. Something dangerous.

You swallowed. Natasha didn’t look at you. She just studied the screen, tapping her fingers against the console. “This one.” she said simply.

Your voice was quieter than you intended. “…Yeah.”Natasha finally turned her head, just slightly. Your eyes met. And for a moment..just a moment, it was too much. Then she smirked. “Good.”

She clicked the screen off. And just like that, it was over. But the image? It stayed with you. Long after the photoshoot ended. Long after the cameras shut down.

And long after you left the studio. The car was quiet. Too quiet. The low hum of the engine was the only sound filling the space, but you barely heard it. Your mind was somewhere else.

Still stuck on the photoshoot. On the way the camera had captured everything, the power, the intensity, the control. On the way Natasha had looked at you in that last shot. It wasn’t just a glance.

You stared out the window, barely blinking, your thoughts spiraling as the scenery blurred past. Natasha was speaking. Something about the schedule for tomorrow, about things you should have been listening to.. But you weren’t. You couldn’t. Your chest still felt too tight, your breath too shallow. “Y/N.” Your name snapped you out of your daze. You blinked, turning your head.

Natasha was watching you. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting against the gear shift, her gaze sharp even in the dim light of the car. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

You opened your mouth, closed it and Natasha sighed. “Alright. We’re done for today.”

You frowned slightly. “What?”

“You’re off until tomorrow. Go rest. Clear your head.” You blinked again, trying to process her words. You were so used to the pressure, to the relentless push, to her orders keeping you on edge. But this? This was unexpected.

“Don’t look so surprised.” she muttered. “You earned it.” Her words settled in your chest, but you didn’t know what to do with them. So you just nodded. And for the rest of the ride, you sat in silence, still thinking, still feeling, still stuck in that moment.

Day 7:

Every drill was brutal. Every lap was ruthless. Natasha barely spoke, except to push you harder. Every limit you thought you had? She crushed it. By the time night fell, you thought she was done with you. Thought you could finally sleep. But Natasha found you later.

Fast asleep on the team’s lounge couch, still in your fireproofs, completely knocked out from exhaustion. She had stood there for a moment, watching. Then, without a word, she grabbed a blanket from the other side of the room and tossed it over you before leaving.

Day 8:

Final day. Final test. One last session to prove you were ready. The team stood by the pit wall. The car hummed beneath you, waiting. You took a breath. Natasha’s voice came through the comms.

“Last chance. Show me what you’ve got.”

And then, you drove. Fast, precise and unforgiving. You felt it. The shift. The control. The instinct overriding doubt. And when you pulled in, stepping out, Natasha was waiting. This time, she didn’t criticize. She just gave you one long look.

“You’re ready.”

——

The paddock was electric, alive with tension and expectation. Mechanics moved like clockwork, final checks being done, engineers poring over data, and drivers locked into their pre-race rituals. The weight of the moment pressed heavy on the entire grid.. this wasn’t just another qualifying session. This was the moment that decided who would start at the front. The moment that separated the contenders from the pretenders.

You sat in the cockpit, fireproofs clinging to your skin, harness so tight across your chest it felt like it was crushing your ribs. The scent of burned rubber and fuel lingered in the air, the familiar hum of engines warming up in the background. Your fingers flexed over the wheel, every part of your body wired, ready.

Across the pit wall, Natasha stood with arms crossed, headset secured, her green eyes locked on the track, calculating every possible scenario before the race had even started. She hadn’t spoken much that morning, not because she wasn’t paying attention, but because she was watching. Waiting for the moment to set the tone. Now, as you sat on the grid, the lights glowing red above you, her voice crackled through the radio.

“Listen to me.” Everything else fell away. “Today, you stop thinking like a rookie. Today, you stop waiting for opportunities to come to you. You take them. You fight for them. You rip them from their hands, and when they push back, you push harder. Do you understand me?”

Your breathing slowed. Your grip on the wheel tightened. “Understood.”

“Good. Because no one is going to move aside for you. Least of all Walker. He’ll do whatever it takes to hold that front row. Don’t let him.”

Your jaw locked at the mention of Walker. Natasha’s voice sharpened. “And if he tries anything, you make sure he regrets it.”

There it was. That edge. That lethal promise in her voice. The engineers gave the final signal. Time to go. You pulled onto the track, engine roaring as you weaved left and right, warming the tires, feeling out the car. The formation lap passed in a blur.

Lined up. Heart pounding. The lights above flickered on. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Green.

You launched off the grid, every fiber of your being focused, locked in. The tires gripped, the engine screamed, and the car shot forward. Walker was already moving to cover the inside line, expecting you to challenge immediately. You didn’t. Not yet. The first few corners were chaos, cars battling, elbows out, everyone jostling for position. You stayed aggressive, ruthless, refusing to back down when the space got tight.

P6. P5.

The radio crackled. Natasha’s voice was controlled but firm. “You’re faster. Stop waiting. Move.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The next car ahead made the mistake of defending too early into Turn Seven. You sold the dummy, flicked the wheel the other way, and sent the car down the inside, clean, fast, brutal.

P4.

Natasha’s voice hummed in your ear. “Good.” P3 came soon after, the overtake executed so smoothly it almost felt effortless. But nothing about this was effortless. Because now, you had Walker in your sights. And he knew it.

Walker had picked up the pace, trying to pull away, but you were there, suffocating him. Every time he took a defensive line, you mirrored his movements, staying just inside his blind spot, making him feel the pressure.

Natasha’s voice cut through, sharp and knowing. “He’s breaking. Give him a reason to make a mistake.”

Turn Nine. Walker braked late, too late. His tires locked for a split second, and that was all you needed. Inside line. Full send. You were alongside him. Natasha’s voice held its breath. Next corner was yours.

You braced..then impact. Walker clipped your rear tire, sending your car into a violent snap-spin. The world tilted. Gravel exploded around you as the car skidded through the runoff, the steering kicking back violently in your hands. Natasha stood up, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, blood boiling as she watched your car skidding through the dirt. The pit crew held their breath. The race officials didn’t say a word. The safety car was on standby, waiting to see if you’d move.

Then, your car jerked forward. The engine roared back to life. Natasha froze. Then, sharp—“Y/n, report.” A beat of static. Then, your voice, steady but burning. “Still here.”

She exhaled sharply. “Get back on track. Now.” You were back. But you were P8 now. Too far back. Too much time lost. Your hands gripped the wheel. “I have an idea.”

Silence. Then, slower. “What idea?” You exhaled.

“It’s risky..”

“Everything in this sport is risky. Talk.” Your breathing was sharp, pulse hammering, your grip locked onto the wheel so tight your knuckles ached.

“If I overtake three cars before Turn Ten, I can keep it flat through sector two and make up time. But I need to go off-line in Turn Six.”

The moment you said it, the radio went dead. It was only for a second, but the silence was heavy, suffocating. Natasha wasn’t answering. Not immediately.

You could picture her in the pit wall, headset tight around her head, eyes narrowed at the screens, jaw locked, fingers gripping the radio as she weighed the calculation in her mind. If you missed the move by an inch, if the grip wasn’t there, if the car snapped on you at that speed, race over.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

Lap 15

Turn Six approached like a wall, a barrier you either broke through or crashed into. You didn’t lift. You went wide, off the racing line, into the part of the track where no one dared to find grip. The car trembled beneath you, the tires barely holding, but they held.

The move was insane. The pit wall erupted. The commentators lost their minds. The entire grandstand stood up. You didn’t hear any of it. Because the second you pulled off the move, the radio clicked. Natasha’s voice cracked through, lower now, almost breathless. “…You’re insane.”

A grin pulled at the corner of your lips. “Told you.”

P5. P4. P3.

The radio clicked again. Natasha was fully locked in now. No hesitation. No restraint. She was with you. “Walker is 1.8 seconds ahead. Three laps left. Close it.” And you did.

Final Lap

Walker was right there and desperate. His lines getting messier, his defense more aggressive. He knew you were coming, knew you were faster. But you knew something else..He was afraid.

Natasha’s voice cut through, sharp as a blade. “If he tries to block, don’t lift.”

Turn 12. Walker braked early, too early. He was trying to bait you, to force a mistake. But you weren’t falling for it. You threw the car inside, right on the limit, the tires barely holding, but it was enough. Walker tried to squeeze you off, but it was too late. You were gone.

P1.

The checkered flag waved. The radio was silent. For a long, long moment..nothing. “Now that…” A pause. “Was a fucking statement.”

You leaned your head back against the seat, exhaling hard, body vibrating from the adrenaline, the exhaustion, the everything. You had done it. You had won. And Natasha..Natasha had trusted you. You barely heard her, too overwhelmed by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding against your ribs, the raw rush of adrenaline and exhaustion making your body tremble against the seat. The realization hit all at once.

Pole position.

You had fought for it, clawed your way from the gravel, risked everything, and won. The car slowed on the cool-down lap, but your hands were still shaking, your breathing still uneven. The reality of what just happened was sinking in, and for the first time in a long time, you felt it.

Pride. A slow, satisfied smirk pulled at your lips as you finally spoke into the radio, breathless but grinning. “P1, huh?”

A small pause. Then, Natasha’s voice, quieter now, something different in it. “P1.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the weight of it settle in. “Ha!!”

Natasha didn’t respond, but you could sense her smirk, even through the static. She let you have this moment. She didn’t cut it down, didn’t make a comment about how it was just qualifying, that the real race was still ahead. No, she let you feel it.

Because you had earned it. Natasha was already pulling off her headset, stepping away from the pit wall as the team erupted into cheers, shouts, and frantic celebrations. She had done her job. Now it was yours. And she wanted to see it. She moved through the chaos, eyes locked on the car rolling in. The mechanics were already lined up, waiting for you.

The moment you stepped out, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, they swarmed. Shouts, cheers, hands grabbing at you, pulling you into crushing embraces. You did it. You laughed, breathless, still high from the race, from the moment, from everything. One of the engineers grabbed your helmet, ruffling your hair before clapping you hard on the back. Someone else was already holding up the pit board. P1.

You looked at it, at the reality of it, and your chest swelled with something powerful. You turned, scanning the pit wall, searching. And then, you saw her.

Natasha stood a few feet away, arms crossed, just watching. She hadn’t rushed into the celebration, hadn’t thrown herself into the crowd of mechanics. No, she was just there, eyes sharp, lips pressed together in something unreadable. For a split second, you thought she was going to walk away.

Then, finally, she nodded. A small movement, barely there. But you saw it. And fuck..it meant everything.

——

The energy of the paddock still buzzed behind you as the car pulled away from the circuit, leaving behind the celebrations, the flashing cameras, and the press that would no doubt be dissecting every second of today’s session.

The atmosphere in the car was… different. Not tense. Not suffocating like usual. Lighter. For once, Natasha wasn’t drilling into you, wasn’t immediately picking apart every turn, every sector time, every moment that could have been improved. She wasn’t reminding you that qualifying was just the beginning, that the real fight was still ahead.

Sitting in the passenger seat, you sank into the leather, exhaustion finally settling in. Your body was still buzzing with adrenaline, muscles sore, heart still beating in the aftershock of what just happened. But this was the first moment you had to actually process it.

You had pole position.

You unlocked your phone, fingers instinctively scrolling through the flood of notifications. News articles. Tweets. Posts.

“Y/N Y/L/N Takes Stunning Pole After Dramatic Comeback.”

“Against All Odds—Romanoff’s New Signing Sends a Warning to the Grid.”

“Walker Struggles Under Pressure as Y/L/N Dominates Qualifying.”

That one made you grin. You scrolled further, seeing clips of your overtakes, of the moment you took pole, of the radio call with Natasha. People were already analyzing it, already picking apart the dynamic between you and her.

“Romanoff’s reaction to Y/L/N’s pole position is so telling.”

One clip showed Natasha standing on the pit wall, her face blank, except for the small, almost imperceptible nod.

The comments were relentless.

“That’s the highest form of Romanoff praise. If you know, you know..”

“She’s pleased. Trust me. She won’t say it, but she is.”

You had spent so long trying to prove you deserved to be back. Fighting against the doubts, the whispers, the endless questioning of whether you were still capable.

And today? Today, you gave them their answer.

You turned your head slightly, glancing at Natasha in the driver’s seat. She hadn’t said a word the entire drive, hadn’t given you that usual look like she was waiting to correct something. She was just driving. Calm. Focused. She caught you looking and raised a brow. “What?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “You’re being…nice.”

Natasha exhaled through her nose, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she kept her eyes on the road. “Don’t get used to it.”

Your lips twitched. “No?”

“Not a chance.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, the tension that had always sat between you and her finally settling, not disappearing, but shifting into something else. Something you weren’t sure how to name yet.

Then, Natasha’s voice cut through the silence again, lower this time, like a warning. “Enjoy today.” A beat. “Because tomorrow?”

She glanced at you, and for a second, the warmth was gone, replaced by something else entirely. “The real war starts.”

The first race of the season.

You sat in the passenger seat as the team drove toward the circuit, headphones in, music drowning out everything else. The low hum of bass vibrated through your ears, steady, grounding. The world outside blurred past, flashes of the approaching grandstands, the towering banners, the overwhelming storm of people already waiting for the main event.

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against your thigh, muscles tense beneath your race suit. This was the moment you had spent years clawing your way back to. And today, you had one job.

The second you stepped out of the car, the onslaught began. Flashes. Cameras. The swarm of media surged forward, microphones shoved in your direction before you even had the chance to breathe.

“Y/N, a quick word before the race!?”

“How are you handling the pressure of pole position?”

“Walker says you don’t have what it takes to hold first place, any response?”

The voices came all at once, words overlapping, the chaos pressing in around you. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the air tightening-

“That’s enough!” Natasha stepped in front of you in an instant, her presence slamming into the conversation like a force of nature, sharp green eyes locking onto the nearest journalist, unflinching. The words cut through the noise like a whip crack. Then, she turned to you,

“Go. Get ready. I’ll handle them.” You hesitated for only a second before nodding, stepping away and heading toward the paddock entrance, leaving the storm behind.

The garage was alive with controlled chaos, engineers running final checks, the steady hum of the team speaking through headsets, the unmistakable scent of fuel and anticipation thick in the air.

You exhaled slowly, rolling out your shoulders as you made your way toward your race suit stand, where one of the crew members was already waiting with your gloves. “Helmet’s prepped.” another said, handing it to you.

You took it, fingers grazing the visor, feeling the familiar weight settle into your grip. Another mechanic helped with your strap devices, securing it into place while you adjusted your gloves, making sure every strap, every fastening, was locked in. The tension in your chest coiled tighter with every second.

“Radio check.”

You exhaled once, pressing the comms button on your wheel. “Loud and clear.”

Natasha’s voice followed instantly, sharp and precise. “Copy. Comms are stable. Crew, confirm status.”

One by one, the voices of your engineers came through, confirming everything was set. The team was ready. The car was ready. You were ready.

The pit lane outside was roaring with noise, the grandstands full, the grid already lined up with cars rolling into position. And you were about to join them. This was it. The pre-race ceremony had begun, but you barely processed it. The national anthem played, the teams stood by their cars, the broadcast captured the entire starting lineup.

Pole position. Your car, first on the grid. It wasn’t the final step. It wasn’t the win. But it was the beginning of something.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t turn your head, just listened. Then, smooth, like she already knew what the answer would be- “You ready to fight?” You exhaled slowly, letting the tension in your chest morph into fire. “Always.”

The engine roared beneath you, a low, guttural vibration that thrummed through your bones. The grandstands blurred into a sea of colors, the sound of thousands of fans mixing with the distant hum of commentary and static-filled radio chatter.

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. This was it. This was the real fight. You focused on the lights above you, glowing red, lined up like a countdown to war.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Lights out.

Your tires gripped hard, the acceleration pinning you into the seat as you launched off the line. Walker was already alongside you, his front wing barely inches from your rear tire, trying to force you wide into Turn One.

Not a chance. You braked late, hugging the inside, refusing to give an inch. The car behind you lunged forward, but you held firm, forcing Walker to the outside.

“Good start, Y/n. Hold the inside.”

Natasha’s voice was clear, sharp, cutting through the chaos like a blade. Turn One, clean. Turn Two: Walker tried again, but you covered it, forcing him back. By the time you hit Turn Three, you had defended your position.

P1.

Walker was relentless. He stayed glued to your rear wing, waiting for an opening, a mistake, anything. Your heart pounded, every nerve in your body locked onto every sound, every movement, every vibration of the car beneath you.

The radio crackled. Natasha’s voice, calm, but watchful. “Don’t let him push you. Control the pace. Make him react to you.”

You adjusted, shifting your lines slightly, feeling out the car, forcing Walker to mirror your every move. Turn Eight and he went for it. He dove inside, too deep, too aggressive. You saw it coming before he even committed. A quick switch-back, flicking the car to the outside as he overshot the apex, and just like that- He was behind you again. The pit wall cheered, but Natasha? She only said, “Nice. Now keep your head down.”

Lap 12

The degradation was kicking in. Your tires were screaming through the high-speed corners, the grip beginning to fade, every lap getting harder to hold. The radio crackled. Natasha again. “Box this lap. We’re switching to mediums.”

Your fingers flexed over the wheel. “Copy.”

Coming out of Turn 14, you peeled off the racing line, diving into the pit lane, the speed limiter engaging as you barreled toward the box. The team was already waiting. You rolled in perfectly, stopping on the mark. Four tires. Fresh set. 2.3 seconds. Fast

You slammed the throttle the second you were released, shooting back onto the track, merging just as a car flew past.

P5.

Natasha’s voice was back in your ear. “You’ll regain track position when they stop. Just keep your pace up.”

Lap 18

The car felt lighter, the grip returning, your confidence growing. P3. P2.

Walker was right there again. Natasha’s voice cut through the radio. “He’s losing grip. He’ll defend aggressively. Watch for a late move.”

Turn 11 and walker went defensive. You faked the inside, forcing him to commit, then switched lines instantly, diving outside instead.

Your tires barely held, the car sliding on the edge of control and you were through. P1 again. The radio erupted with team cheers, but Natasha’s voice was the only one you focused on. “Good. Now put some distance between you.”

Lap after lap, you could feel Walker’s presence behind you like a shadow, clinging too close, pushing the limits of what was allowed. You knew him, knew the way he played the game, but this? This was different…

Something about the way he moved, the way he positioned himself right at your rear wing now, sent a flicker of unease through your chest. You gritted your teeth, forcing the feeling down as you powered through another turn, your car gliding over the asphalt like second nature.

Your hands gripped the wheel tighter as you closed in on him, calculating your every move, your breath steady despite the heat in your chest. But Walker? He was too close. Too aggressive, as usual. You could feel him right on your rearview, waiting for a moment to overtake, but you wouldn’t give him that. Not now. Not today.

Then, in a blink, he made his move. You saw him inching forward, his car too close for comfort, and that was when the panic flashed across your mind. Why was he doing this? What was his game? You didn’t have time to think about it long before your tires lost traction, and you could feel the weight of the car shift.

“What the hell is he doing!?” Your voice was sharp through the radio, frustration rising as you saw him get closer, too close for comfort. But there was nothing you could do. Before you could react, before you could even process it, he hit you.

The force was hard. You didn’t even have time to brace. It came from behind you, the rear tires suddenly lifted off the track as your car was jerked sideways. You fought for control, your hands desperately working the wheel to correct it, but the back end of your car was already out of your control. The track seemed to tilt beneath you. The wall loomed ahead, too close, too fast.

Your breath hitched. No, no, no, you thought, your heart racing. “N-NO!” The impact was swift. Your car slammed into the wall with such force that it felt like your body was being thrown against the harness. The crash sent a sharp shockwave through your entire body, and the world went blank.

The sound of your desperate voice on the radio hit Natasha like a punch to the gut. She was already watching, tracking Walker’s every move, every inch of the track. But nothing, nothing could prepare her for the moment she heard you. The raw fear in your voice was unlike anything she had ever heard from you before.

Her body reacted before her mind could process the fear in her chest. She shot to her feet, the chair behind her crashing to the floor as if it didn’t exist. She grabbed the radio, her hands trembling as she slammed the button down.

“Y/n, come in!” She was breathless, her voice tight with panic.

Nothing.

“Y/N! Answer me!” She tried again, but the radio crackled with silence. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She saw the monitors flicker, showing the image of your car crashing hard into the wall. The feedback from the telemetry was dead, and all she could hear was the commentators’ panicked voices.

“That was a huge impact! No response from Y/N!”

Her hands clenched around the radio, the sensation of fear crawling up her spine. Her eyes stayed locked on the screen, watching the wreckage unfold in real time, but her heart was somewhere else..in the car with you.

Her team tried to speak, but Natasha didn’t hear them. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own pulse in her ears, the sound of your voice echoing in her mind, and the image of you, helpless and not responding. She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate. The safety car was already on its way, and before she could even consider what she was doing, Natasha was already moving.

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[facewithoutheart]

What if Eddie got a beanie baby for Christmas one year and it’s dumb because stuffed animals are for girls and Eddie’s the Man of the House but secretly he likes his little white bear with the heart on his chest. He cuts the tag off it and his mom yells at him because they’re supposed to be worth a lot of money someday but secretly Eddie’s glad he did it. If the bear isn’t worth anything but the joy he brings to Eddie then maybe he’ll get to keep it. He does, eventually, forget about the bear. Or, he puts him on a shelf when he enters high school because high school boys don’t sleep with toys and maybe there’s some nights he sees the bear on his shelf and he thinks it might be nice to hold him but he doesn’t.

The first time Shannon comes into his bedroom she immediately sees the bear. “Who’s this little guy?” she teases and Eddie gets irrationally angry seeing it in her hands. “My stupid sisters leaving their stupid toys in my room,” he says, grabbing it out of her hands and throwing it in his bedside trash can. He waits until she’s left to fish him out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” which is dumb, so dumb, that he’s apologizing to a doll, that he’s crying.

Eddie wants to bring the bear with him to Afghanistan but he doesn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to the bear, no matter what little comfort it might bring to Eddie.

When his mom gives Christopher a stuffed bear after his birth, Eddie stares at the way Chris hugs it to his chest and wonders what would ever make him tear the toy from Chris’s hands.

Chris finds the stuffed bear when he moves to El Paso. It’s weird, how he wants it to sit on his nightstand, but not as weird as the tight look his abuela gets when she sees it. “Where did you find that?” Chris shrugs. “Behind some books in the closet.” Chris becomes fascinated with the bear. He looks it up online. Valentino. There’s a little red stain over one eye, maybe someone spilled something on it. He sends a picture to Buck. “He kind of reminds me of you.” “Yeah, Superman! He does! How are you doing?????” Chris doesn’t reply.

When Chris is packing up his items to move back to LA, he doesn’t think about it when he throws the bear into his suitcase. He puts it on a shelf when he gets back home. Nothing else has changed about his room; his dad kept it exactly the way he left it, so the bear sticks out. “Where’d you get that?” His dad asks when he sees the bear, his hands are flinching into fists by his side. Chris’s breath picks up. “You can’t be mad at me for taking him. You obviously didn’t want him; you left him behind!” “I’m not mad,” Chris’s dad lies. “Yes, you are. You are!” “Okay! I’m a little mad!” “Why?!”

“Because he was mine!”

Eddie takes a breath. He looks at his son. He loves him so, so, so much. “Because he was mine,” Eddie says, “but I wasn’t … I never felt like I was allowed to have him.” This time, Chris’s question comes out softer, more earnest, “Why?”

It’s not easy to put into words all the ways the world has shaped Eddie into a form he barely recognizes, but he tries. For his son, he’ll always try. At the end, Chris walks over with the bear. He places it in his dad’s hands. “I think you need this more than I do.”

Eddie laughs and thumbs over where his sister spilled cherry koolaid on him the one time he let her play with Bear.

“He kind of looks like Buck, doesn’t he?”

Eddie holds Bear to his chest. He squeezes tightly.

“Yeah. He does.”