#like i like the dude but all his decisions are made with his heart and thats just not a good way to lead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star2fishmeg · 27 days

Text

ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ 'ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s so unfair!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, pretty boy,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was so hot, Alex send me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

small worlds taglist | @bunbunbl0gs

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

#jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #nhl smut #hockey smut #≡jh86 #jh86 #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic

745 notes · View notes

empress-simps · 3 months

Note

Poly!marauders x readers where maybe they are roommates and love the reader and being touchy and caring but the reader just thinks they are affectionate with all their friends?

Thanks for the request darling! I am more than happy to oblige. Thank you for patiently waiting too since it did take a while to publish it (ugh school am I right?) I tweaked it a bit, hope you don’t mindd : ) Really wanted to publish this before my birthday (which is tomorrow) as a little treat to myself and to you guys. I hope you enjoy!

Special Treatment?

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader

CW: None that I could think of?? except for possible typos and grammatical errors. (1.3k words)

You often found asking yourself one-too-many-times if the boys’ affection to you were just purely platonic or romantic.

Maybe you were just being dramatic— giving meaning to meaningless stuff they do for you.

It's probably you, yeah. You and your delusional arse, really. Why would they want you in the mix when the three of them are already dating?

Although— you just can't help but feel special when Remus makes you his famous “Moony toast” as he likes to call it, or when Sirius calls you 'his doll' and slings his arm over your shoulder which results in your stomach doing flips, and let’s not forget how James would flash his mega-watt smile, setting your breakfast down and making sure you know that he's the one who cooked it for you.

With the help of Remus, of course— your flat would turn into ashes if you let James cook alone in the kitchen.

Being roommates with three dudes is certainly uncommon but fun. Telling people about it… well, makes them shoot you questioning looks or are concerned that you’re being held hostage by three big burly men.

You really weren’t sure how it happened— the four of you just fitted together seamlessly, similar to cogs of a well-oiled machine.

It began during the last three months of your 7th year in Hogwarts, you decided to start looking for flats to rent, preferably in close to London. You wanted to live where muggles are, having such keen interest about them and their daily lives, deciding to pursue a muggle career also helped you in your decision.

You tried searching if there's any available flats to rent and how much it’ll cost. However, seeing that you're a broke student, you really couldn't afford any sky-high prices for rent.

It seemed like all hope was lost until you asked one of your friends, Lily, if she knows anyone looking for a flat mate.

You were sure she was an angel sent here on Earth, after a few days she told you that Remus, James, and Sirius have no problems taking you in, seeing that you guys are housemates during their years in Hogwarts.

The rest was history.

They made sure you wouldn’t feel left out. It was how they looked out for you, the way they included you in every plan, every joke, every moment of their lives.

Although, as the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months you start to notice the little things they do.

"Hey doll, have any movies tickled your fancy yet?" Sirius asks, sneaking his arm around your waist, leaning close to your face.

"Erm, no not really... You guys could pick, I'd be fine with anything." You smiled at him, before fleeing to the kitchen to calm your racing heart.

"You're just friends with them, Y/n. I'm sure they do this with Lily and the others..." you let out a mumble, absentmindedly grabbing a glass of water before bumping into someone.

"Whoa, are you okay, darling?" Remus' worried voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he cupped your face before placing the back of his hand on your forehead.

"I'm alright!" You squeaked; Remus' doesn't really look to convinced. "Are you sure, darling? You look rather flushed... I told you to bring your jacket yesterday when you went out. You probably caught a cold." He frowned, you tried to protest but your attempt was futile as he shimmied off his cardigan and made you wear it. "I'll make you some lemon water, alright darling?" James called out from the living room, "We're starting the movie without you guys!"

Remus yelled out, boiling some warm water. "Hold your bloody horses, prongs! I'm making some lemon water." You heard a shuffling of feet nearing you, making you look up.

"Love, don't tell me you're sick." He frowns, and like what Remus did earlier, he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. "I'm not sick." You protested, but it all fell on deaf ears.

Next time you told them you went out, you were practically dressed for winter even though it's only spring.

Those little things made you honestly take a step back and re-asses your situation with them because for merlin's sake, why do they act like your boyfriends when you're just friends with them, right? You couldn't really open it up to Lily because you'd probably sound stupid if this was just normal for them.

Your mind ran with hundreds of what if's and the way Remus' eyes linger on you for a second too long, with an emotion you can't quite decipher doesn't help soothe the thoughts in your mind. The warmth of Sirius' touch, James and oh merlin, when the three of them kissed you on the cheeks during a movie night? You really couldn't live in denial anymore.

You're no detective but the signs are there, clear as day. There's a high chance they're not just being friendly—they care, deeply. And maybe, just maybe, you do too.

Having read enough romance novels, you quickly recognized the pattern, but this isn't fiction. This is real life, and these are your roommates—three guys who have somehow, inexplicably, fallen for the same person. You.

Sitting in loveseat while nursing a cup of tea, you couldn’t help but notice the way the morning light caught in Sirius’s hair, giving him a halo that seemed so at odds with his mischievous smirk. “Morning, doll,” he greeted, his voice a smooth baritone that sent shivers throughout your system. Does this man haven't ever heard of morning voice?

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “Slept well?”

“Like a log,” he said, eyes softening before squeezing himself beside you. “Did you? You were up late reading with Moony.”

You nodded, the feeling the warmth within your chest surfacing because of the memory. Remus usually reads his novel alongside you, it's sort of yours and his thing. Although you sometimes found yourself getting distracted and instead of focusing on the book, you were drawn to the gentle timbre of his voice and the way his hand occasionally brushed yours as he pointed something out on the page he was reading.

And then there was James, who was currently flipping pancakes with a concentration that was both endearing and amusing. He caught your eye and grinned, the same smile that had greeted you every morning since you’d moved in. “These are going to be the best pancakes you’ve ever tasted,” he declared. “Guaranteed to improve your day by at least twenty percent.”

You laughed, the sound mingling with the sizzling of the batter. “I’ll hold you to that.”

A bedroom creaked open, and Remus shuffled out, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Is that breakfast I smell?” he mumbled, heading to the kitchen "Yeah, go help prongsie, moons. It's a miracle he hasn't started a fire yet." Sirius teased, it made Remus more awake and practically ran to supervise James.

After a few moments, the four of you were digging into the half-burnt pancakes that James was proud of, a mishmash of pajamas and bed hair (except for Sirius), and yet it felt right. It felt like family. As you ate, you found yourself observing them, the way they interacted with each other, and with you. There was a harmony; a rhythm that you had become a part of without even realizing it.

It was in the little things: the way Remus passed you the syrup without you having to ask, or the sound of Sirius’ laughter seemed to wrap around you like a warm blanket. And James? Well, he was the glue that held it all together, his energy infectious and his presence a constant source of comfort for all of you.

You realized; it didn’t matter what other people thought. They don't see what you saw, feel what you've felt. They don’t understand that this was more than just a shared living space; it was a shared life. And maybe, just maybe, it was okay to give meaning to the ‘meaningless stuff’ because, to you, it meant everything.

And as you looked around at the three men who had become your world, you knew that this was normal. Your normal. And it was perfect.

#poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

660 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 8 months

Text

Good Terms With The In-Laws

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N and Drew broke up a long time ago, so why does he still go to movie night with her parents every Friday?

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Y/N and Drew broke up six months ago. It was a mutual decision between the pair; they just felt like it wasn’t working out anymore. He is always away at work and this leaves her at home by herself. After the breakup, she moved in with her parents for moral support and because she couldn’t find anywhere else to live yet. It would be hard for her to go back to living by herself after four years of living with Drew. They had been dating since they both graduated from university, so the breakup was a big change in their lives. Yet one thing doesn’t change in their life and that is Drew’s weekly hang out with her father and mother, which becomes more weekly because of the SAG strike. He’ll bring over dinner and watch a movie with her parents every Friday. When they were dating, she used to join the tradition, but the split has made it awkward. Now, she goes over to a friend’s house until he leaves. This week, she has nowhere to go so she’ll just stay locked up in her room. She is watching TV when she gets a notification on her phone.

Your dad isn’t picking up his phone so let your parents know that I am going to be there in about ten minutes with the wings. She rolls her eyes at his text. We broke up six months ago. Why are you still doing this? When is it going to end? She watches as the three dots get replaced by a text. It’s just a dude having dinner and watching a movie with a married couple. That’s not a crime, Y/N. She leaves him without a response and goes back to her show. Around eight minutes later, the doorbell rings. She waits for her parents to answer it, but swears up a storm when she remembers that they went out to get some drinks for tonight.

She opens the door to find Drew. His gaze is on the empty driveway and he turns toward her. “Your parents aren’t home,” he states, stepping in and going to the living room to set the food on the coffee table. She shrugs, “They’ll be back soon. They went to get drinks.” She is stopped from going back to her room by Drew. “We haven’t seen each other in months and that’s all we are going to say to each other,” he questions. She turns to him with furrowed brows, “We broke up a long time ago, Drew. What do you want me to say? I don’t understand why you are still doing movie night with my parents?”

“Because it’s good to be on good terms with your in-laws.”

“Good terms with your in-laws? Drew, did you hit your head? We broke up.”

“I know, but we both know that that isn’t permanent.”

He closes the distance between them so she feels his breath on her face. Her neck cranes to look up at him, “What are you talking about?” “Let’s be honest. You broke up with me and I went along with it because I could see you needed space. But eventually, I was going to make you realize that although my work takes me all over the world, I’m going to do everything in my power to not make you feel alone,” he tells her, taking her hand in his. “Because my heart was made for you, so only you can have it. You take as much time as you need and when you are ready to get back together, I’ll be here waiting for you.” Her parents come back home at that moment, which means she can make her exit back to her room without Drew’s knowledge. Her heart is pounding like a race track. She can’t believe what he just said, but what if he is right?

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey fic #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you

569 notes · View notes

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 months

Text

Hi, I started reading your stories and I love the, could I please request a modern!slightly older!Eddie x neighbour!reader? He can tell she always excited when texting on her phone, one day as he comes home, she comes out all dressed up for a date but later he finds out reader was ghosted and comforts her? Maybe smut? Maybe reader gets bruises/hickeys easily?

Fluff, jealous Eddie. Mdni. 18+blog.

Request by anon 💞

🫶🥰

Eddie always noticed you. You were his next door neighbour, always friendly to him and he enjoyed talking to you. As well as being sweet, you were also funny and had a dry sarcastic wit that he was instantly taken with.

On a sunny day in June, he was returning from his shift as the local mechanic in the auto repair shop in town. As per usual you were sitting outside and basking in the sunshine, however every couple of minutes you would look at your phone and smile dreamily.

Come to think of it, Eddie had noticed that you were always texting and smiling secretly to yourself the last few days. He was curious at what was causing you to be so smiley and giddy.

He stops to chat for a bit and still feels that tug of wonder when you continue to text this unknown person with the biggest grin on your face. It was stupid but it made Eddie pouty, he was used to making you smile like that.

It didn't take very long for him to find out the roof of your giddiness. After work the next day, he stopped by the store and got a six pack of beer and figured he would ask you to join him for a drink.

Only when he got home you were locking up and he almost swallowed his tongue as he saw that you were dressed to the nines, wearing a dress that highlighted every inch of your body.

You smile at Eddie and grow flustered at the stunned look on his face, "You look amazing princess" he manages to say and your expression brightens in delight.

"Thanks, I have a date". Suddenly the images of you texting, the giddiness and almost shy way you would stare at your phone all made sense, the pieces clicked into place as he realised you must have texting the lucky dude or girl.

"His name is Andrew, I met him at work and we've been talking for a few weeks" Eddie listens to this and feels the swell of jealousy stir in his veins. Andrew was one lucky dude.

"Have fun, any funny business happens then you call me, okay?" He knows he's being protective but he likes you and doesn't want anything sinister happening to you.

You nod and kiss his cheek then hurry over to your car, Eddie watches you go, his cheeks burn with the imprint of your lips on his cheek.

...

Sullen Eddie settles down for a quiet night but is surprised when an hour later he hears the screech of your tires. He peers out the window and watches you get out, slam the door and head into your house.

Fuck, the guy must have been a dick. Making a split second decision, he decides to go and check on you. Anger burns in his veins at the thought of Andrew getting you upset.

He gently knocks on your door and you answer it, there's a trace of tears on your cheeks and Eddie fumes. "What did the fucker do?" he growls, you wipe your eyes and gesture for Eddie to come in.

"He didn't even show Eddie, I waited for like twenty minutes and texted him but he completely ghosted me" Not only was this guy an idiot but he was a stupid one at that.

Your tears tug at Eddie's heart and he pulls you into a hug. You snuggle close to him and lay your head on his chest.

"He's an asshole princess. If I ever run into him I'll kick his ass for making you cry" your sobs quieten and you let out an unmistakable giggle.

"If you let me take you on a date then believe me you would have the time of your life sweetheart" Eddie stiffens as he realises what he said, he can't take it back and honestly he doesn't want to take it back.

You smile impishly and the look on your face takes Eddie's breath away. "Then maybe you should take me on that date Munson, if you're so sure or yourself"

Like magnets you move even closer to each other and Eddie kisses you, feels heat rush through his body as you begin to kiss him back.

He kisses you passionately, moves to your neck and leaves love bites on your skin, then he stops and you make a little whimper of annoyance, glare at him. He trails a finger over the little bites that are blooming on your skin.

"Sorry princess but wooing first before the rest of the good stuff" he promises and you brighten at this.

"Alright Munson, colour me intrigued" Eddie makes a wow then to do his best to woo and make you happy.

Maybe he could sneak a few kisses before then though... 🤭

❤️🫶

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #older eddie munson #eddie munson

219 notes · View notes

simp4wom3n · 1 year

Text

The Quiet One Pt III

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: After moving to New York with Tara to escape their past, y/n finds themselves desperate to keep her girlfriend safe, especially when a new killer is on the loose. ~ Word Count: 7.526k ~ Warnings: Scream VI spoilers, graphic descriptions of blood and gore, swearing (I think that's everything)

A/N: Hi!!! part 3 is finally here!! i'm sorry it took so long I have actually been so fkn busy its a lil painful I won't lie. This one also took a while to write so hopefully you guys like it - and yes there will be a pt 4 coming soon. <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

A packed frat party with dizzying lights and deafening music wasn't the typical place you chose to reflect, yet here you were, sitting on an old couch, drink in hand, dressed in a pirate costume with your fellow crewmate nowhere to be found.

Moving to New York was easily one of the better decisions you had ever made. Escaping the small town of Woodsboro that provided you with nothing but nightmares felt like a breath of fresh air. As a matter of fact, the only thing you were glad that Woodsboro gave you was Tara.

You had been dating since your shared 3-day nightmare over 6 months ago, and your relationship grew stronger every day. That was at least until something shifted. Something in the way Tara looked at you had changed. The usual squeal of happiness at the sight of you was replaced with an almost irritated sigh. Your presence becoming more of a burden for the girl than a blessing.

Sure, you were overprotective. How couldn't you be? She was quite literally all that you had left. Sam, Mindy, Chad. They were all there, but none of them knew you like Tara did. None of them loved you like Tara did.

After the two of you were Richie and Amber's 'pin cushions', you ultimately decided you were sick of being the loner that everybody could take advantage of. The small, insignificant girl that everyone laughed at and made fun of. The weak punching bag that gets stabbed and shot on repeat.

Instead of relishing every opportunity to be alone, you now practically hate to be alone, the horror of the attacks leaving deep and permanent wounds. You rarely distanced yourself from Tara. When being with her was impossible, going to the gym with Chad was your next best option.

Although you didn't see the point at first, you quickly realised that the extra muscle would not only help you regain the strength you'd lost due to your extensive wounds, but it would also improve your ability to protect Tara, or more specifically, beat the shit out of anyone who tried to touch her.

Unfortunately, your overbearing need to protect Tara landed you in this position. Painfully reminded of what should be by Mindy and Anika's cuddling less than a few metres away from you, you blankly stare at the array of drunk teens in front of you, singing and swaying to the music whilst probably eyeing up their next hook-up.

"You alright there, y/n?" Anika's sweet voice breaks you out of your drunken haze, your sour mood and distant stare evidently not as concealed as you thought. "Yeah, fine... I'm getting another drink" You chug the rest of your drink, the poorly mixed liquid burning the back of your throat as your face scrunches at the taste, before you push yourself up off the couch, not particularly interested in a drunk heart-to-heart conversation.

Stumbling your way through the crowd, mumbling "excuse me"s and "sorry"s to every person you bump into, you make your way towards the kitchen to steal what was left of the cheap liquor.

Your muffled apologies were cut off when a strong shoulder barged into you, almost knocking you off your feet. Your drunken gaze quickly turns towards the inconsiderate asshole who ran into you, your face scrunched in annoyance until your eyes catch a glimpse of a familiar bandana.

"Tara?" Her clearly intoxicated eyes met yours briefly as she was dragged through the crowds, her arm being pulled by a dude you presumed to be an egotistical frat boy. Every ounce of alcohol left your system as you sobered up instantly, your feet quickly following their trail despite having to shove past a few unhappy partygoers.

"Tara!" you exclaim as you catch up to them on the stairs, where Tara walks in front of the jackass, willingly leading herself into an inevitable death trap. Her head turns to face you, a look of disappointment on her face that you try to brush off. "She's good down here." You sarcastically smile at the boy, grabbing Taras's arm as you gently try to pull her back down the stairs.

"Come on, let's go" "No, y/n... It's fine, I want to" "Wha-" "See y/n... she wants to" The douchebag smirks as he firmly grabs ahold of Tara's other arm, forcibly dragging her up the stairs as she loses her footing. Her grunts of pain cause every last bit of your patience to evaporate as you run up the stairs after her.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" you yell violently, yanking him down the steps by the shirt. His back collides with the wall, forcing him to stumble before regaining his footing and charging towards you. "Get the fuck off of me!" he yells, but you hold your ground. "You want to go motherfucker? Ok." Tara's protests from behind you go unheard as you uppercut him hard in the chin, his head jerking backwards as he falls to the ground in agony, blood spilling from his lips.

"Touch her again, and I'll send you to the hospital next time", You threaten him, your eyes catching a glimpse of Sam appearing out of the crowd, a slight smirk on her lips at the scene in front of her - she loved the new you.

"Y/n?!" Your focus is stolen from your moment of victory as you turn around and are met with a furious Tara. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" She scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head before she carelessly pushed past you, her shoulder bumping into you.

"Dammit"

"Tara! Will you stop?" you called after her as she continued walking quickly away from you, the rest of the group following behind you. Was the punch a little overboard? Maybe, but at the end of the day, that dude had it coming.

"I cannot believe you did that.", she yelled at you, her tone laced with irritation. "That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you!" "So?!". Your jaw dropped as she finally faced you, her face purely showing frustration. No sarcasm, no guilt, nothing. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. The thought of Tara consciously allowing herself to be dragged away by some guy that would undoubtedly take advantage of her, or worse, infuriated you.

"So?! What the fuck do you mean so?!" "Maybe I didn't care because at least I would finally get away from you!... I mean, look, y/n... you're looking out for me, I get that, I appreciate that, but you never leave me alone unless it is physically fucking impossible for you to be there... you have to let me go." Her harsh tone softened the more she spoke, perhaps realising the words that were falling from her mouth as she stared into your tear-ridden eyes.

"Let you go?" you grinned wryly as tears streamed down your cheeks. "How do you expect me to do that, Tara? I love you... You are literally all that I have left. You are all that I care about. I-I moved to fucking New York because of you, like... I-I can't."

Despite Tara's gaze softening at your cries, your heart cracked as you realised that you were hanging onto her by a thread. Uncontrollable sobs began to escape you as your hand attempted to keep them in. A mixture of embarrassment and guilt washed over you as you turned on your heels and ran off towards the apartment you, unfortunately, shared with the gorgeous girl you were running away from.

In times like these, you resented the fact that you shared a bedroom with Tara.

Before you ran away, you thought you saw a flash of guilt in Tara's eyes, a thought which helped somewhat soothe your racing thoughts as you verged on the edge of a breakdown.

She was right. She always was. You never left her alone, that was true, but you couldn't let her go. You just couldn't. It had been months since Dewey was brutally taken from you, and you still have nightmares about it. She knew that. She was the one who used to comfort you when you would wake up in a cold sweat, the pictures of Dewey lying dead on the floor fresh in your mind.

You used to think you had no love to give, but now it seemed you had too much.

The rest of the group had returned to the apartment shortly after you barged down the door with tears streaming down your face. You had taken cover in Sam's room, knowing that Tara would similarly seek the comfort of your shared bedroom once she got home.

When you heard the front door slam shut and the shuffling of footsteps outside the closed bedroom door, you shot to your feet as you checked over yourself in Sam's mirror, hoping to wipe away the remnants of your recent meltdown, the weight of Tara's words still pulling on you.

With one last deep breath, you turned the door handle slowly and softly, a slight creak escaping its worn hinges. When you poked your head around the corner, you noticed your bedroom light was on, and the door was wide open, which you took as a sign of Tara's presence.

Slowly padding softly across the wooden floor into the living room, you spot Mindy sitting on the couch as Chad and Sam move around the kitchen. Mindy's kind eyes land on your dishevelled figure as you sluggishly approach her, falling back into the sofa next to her with a distant look on your face.

"You alright there, matey?". Your brows furrowed slightly at Mindy's odd choice of wording before realising you were still in your pirate costume. You chuckled slightly as you wiped at your eyes, your head nodding subtly as you gave the girl a small smile.

You sat silently for a moment, the sound of cupboards opening and closing echoing from the kitchen as Chad appeared to be searching for something. "Go talk to her.". Your eyes shifted back to the girl sitting next to you, a knowing look on her face as she smiled at you gently. You glanced toward your bedroom, watching Quinn exit the room before Chad entered, closing the door behind him.

Your jaw clenched slightly as your gaze returned to Mindy, a hesitant look on your face. "I don't think that's a good idea." You spoke softly, knowing she was upset because you wouldn't leave her alone, so there was no point. "Oh, come on, you know you want to. Just go. Go, go, go." Mindy shooed you off the couch and towards your room, your eyes landing on the door as if you were about to enter your worst nightmare.

Your hesitancy to enter caused Quinn to beat you to it, opening the door suddenly, mumbling something about her phone. You stood back, waiting for her to leave so you could try and talk to Tara. Or at least that was your plan until you heard Quinrn say something that made your heart sink.

"Did I cockblock you?"

The rest of the conversation from the room didn't help as your eyes were welled with tears. What the fuck was Chad doing with Tara in your bedroom for Quinn to say that. You harshly bit your lip in an attempt to calm yourself, an attempt which failed miserably as Chad exited the room and saw you, his face immediately stricken with guilt.

"Fuck this"

Before he could put together some fake apology, you were already turning around and bolting towards the front door. Grabbing your jumper and keys from the nearby hooks, you slid your shoes on as you shakily undid the many locks keeping you trapped inside this godforsaken apartment.

Ignoring the worried look from Mindy, when you finally got the door open, you practically jumped out of the apartment and slammed the door behind you.

Sobs wracked your body as you ran down the decrepit stairs and out the door onto the dark street. You knew it was prime time for a Ghostface attack, but at this point, you were happy to be the live bait.

Dragging your heavy feet up the winding stairs, your energy has completely depleted after your last hour of wandering through New York's streets. You didn't even have the power to think coherently, your mind completely blank as you scaled the stairs towards your apartment.

After aimlessly staring at your feet as you trek towards your door, you only pick your head up once you reach the top of the staircase. The front door was wide open. An unfamiliar figure stood in the doorway watching the TV whilst what appeared to be your entire friend group watched with them.

Sniffling and wiping away the tear tracks from your cheeks as you stalked towards your door, you entered slowly and rounded the male figure, a person you now recognised as 'the hot guy next door'. You looked at him queryingly before your eyes scanned the rest of the room, everyone looking glaringly concerned.

When your gaze finally lands on the TV, your heart sinks as you read the headline. Another ghostface attack. "What the fuck is going on?" your voice causes everyone's heads to turn towards you, some of them unaware of your presence until now. Your posture shrunk even further as everyone glared at you - some were soft, whilst others were deadly.

"Where were you?" Tara asked, a mixture of anger and concern laced in her tone. You hesitated. You didn't feel like voicing to the whole room how you had walked around aimlessly whilst sobbing and attracting weird and worried stares from random people.

"Just on a walk. Needed some fresh air." Your voice was quiet as you spoke, your eyes never leaving Tara's. She noticed how red and puffy yours were, how tears had stained your cheeks despite your blatant attempt at hiding it.

"Impeccable timing", you heard Chad mutter quietly, probably thinking you wouldn't hear it. Your gaze shifted to him as you looked at him insulted. The fact that he was even insinuating that you could have had something to do with it made your blood boil.

"Pack a bag. We leave in ten." "Sam, wait, Sam!". Sam walked quickly into the kitchen, Tara hot on her tail. You were too focused on the idea that now, because of your sulking, everyone in this room no longer trusts you. Tara might not trust you.

With a blank stare, you drag yourself further into the living room before collapsing on the couch Tara had previously occupied. You instantly brought your knees to your chest and buried your head in them, tears beginning to resurface as it appeared the world hated you more than ever.

Surrounded by Tara's perfume, you tried and failed to wrap your head around the returning nightmare that was brewing. Not only were you losing your grip on your beloved girlfriend, but you were now likely about to face up against another psycho who wanted nothing more than to see your and your friends' bodies dead in the ground.

As Tara and Sam's argument migrated back into the living room whilst Quinn phoned her dad, the sound of Sam's phone ringing echoing through the room caused you to flinch, your body beginning to involuntarily shake.

When she hung up on the caller, you breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, your relief was short-lived, as you noticed Sam's face drop after she talked to Quinn's dad. She hung up the phone with a sorrowful yet determined look on her face, "I have to go to the station", she spoke as she moved to leave the apartment.

Before anyone could stop her, she was out the door, yet your eyes shifted towards Tara's sporadic movements as she searched for her jacket. "I'm going with her", she finally spoke after noticing everyone's questioning eyes.

As she reached the apartment door, she looked over her shoulder at you expectantly, almost anticipating that you would follow her. On any other day, you would, but at that moment, you selfishly decided that you were too hurt to follow after her.

After all, she didn't want your protection. Right?

You missed the look of disappointment on her face as you averted your eyes from her, instead choosing to focus on the TV. Clenching her jaw and nodding subtly, Tara turned back around and ran down the stairs after her sister.

You soon realised that letting her go was one of the worst decisions you had made to date.

They had been attacked. Of course, they had been attacked. The one time you let your emotions get the better of you, Tara almost ended up dead.

You knew the world hated you.

When you had gotten the call from Quinn's dad about the attack, you had never run so fast. You sprinted straight down to the station, desperate to see your girlfriend and make sure she was ok, even if she didn't want to see you.

When detective Bailey finally released them, you sat anxiously in an old and uncomfortable chair at the entrance to the station, your leg bouncing vigorously as your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused your head to whip upwards, your eyes landing on Tara and Sam, visible injuries nowhere to be found on either of them.

You got to your feet quickly, standing impossibly straight as the girls finally reached you. You took a second to scan Tara, double and even triple checking that she was ok. That she wasn't hurt.

You wouldn't forgive yourself if she was.

Releasing a shaky sigh of relief, you softly nodded, whispering, "I'm glad you're ok", before turning on your heels and heading towards the door. Tara's face scrunched slightly at your behaviour, unsure why your usually confident and over-the-top personality was so... dull?

She kept her gaze on you as she followed you out the door, only to be surrounded by a bunch of reporters. Microphones and cameras were shoved in your face, and questions were hurled left and right.

You had to fight the urge to put your arm around Tara's shoulders, your head and heart at war as you still failed to comprehend how Tara felt. Whether she still loved you or not. Whether she would welcome your touch or not. You had no idea.

With the end of the sea of paparazzi finally in sight, you were seconds away from escaping until a familiar voice filled your ears.

"Gale Weathers. Channel 4."

The three of you simultaneously spun around with shock and disgust on your faces. "Do you ladies think you're the reason the Ghostface killer has come to the big apple?". You scoffed at her words, earning a raised brow from the woman.

Sam humourlessly chuckled in disbelief before you watched her swing a punch at Gale. The crowd of press gasped as Gale somehow dodged the hit altogether, a smug smirk making its way onto her face. "Nice try, sweetie, but I've done this dance before."

Your want to wipe that smug smile off her face was satisfyingly fulfilled as Tara punched her straight in the face, knocking her back as another gasp filled the air. You couldn't help but smile as Gale turned around, her mouth agape while holding her cheek.

"Stay away from us.". Regardless of your current problems, you had never felt more in love with Tara as she walked away without another glance in Gale's direction. The smile still lingered on your lips as you moved to follow the girls away from the cameras. To your dissatisfaction, Gale followed.

Listening to Gale try to justify herself for writing about what happened in Woodsboro all those months ago just made you more infuriated. 'Those fuckers can die in anonymity' is what she had said.

Yet look at her now.

When Sam mentioned what Dewey would think, you immediately tensed up, your gaze dropping to your feet as you sucked in a breath. Knowing that any mention of Dewey's name triggered you, Tara's gaze momentarily lingered on you before she returned to the conversation.

You zoned out of the rest of said conversation, only picking your head back up when Sam and Tara started to walk away. You watched as they headed towards a taxi while you began to walk back to the apartment.

"Y/n? Where are you going?" Tara's soft voice caused you to turn back, her eyes questioning you as her brows frowned slightly. "I-I was just gonna walk home... you kn-" "Get in." Tara interjected, earning a surprised look from you. "I-" "Y/n, get in the damn taxi." "Ok."

Just like before, she still had complete control over you. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't say no to her. You watched as the two sisters entered the taxi before you rounded the car and followed on the other side. With the three of you in the back seat and Tara in the dreaded middle seat, avoiding physical contact with Tara was impossible as your shoulders and thighs brushed against each other.

Nothing but the faint hum of the radio filled the backseat as the vehicle drove away from the station. This distance, or lack of it, between you and Tara, was both comfortable and unsettling. You hadn't taken your eyes away from her hand, conveniently situated on her thigh, barely inches from yours.

The need to grasp her hand grew too strong for you to resist, so you gently brushed her pinky finger with yours before proceeding to intertwine your fingers. You mentally sighed at the softness of her delicate hand as soon as it was within your grasp.

Holy shit, you had missed her touch.

With the back of her hand facing upwards, your fingers gently moving against her knuckles, you studied her scar, which had served as a daily reminder of what the two of you had gone through together.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there... I should've -" "It's ok." Your eyes finally met hers as she gave you a warm smile, reassuringly squeezing your hand. "But what if you got hurt?" "I didn't... that's all that matters." Your eyes had begun to water slightly, the guilt of letting her go resurfacing as you looked her dead in the eyes. She gently leaned in and kissed your cheek sweetly before allowing you to rest your head on her shoulder.

Maybe everything was going to be alright after all.

"Ok nerds, listen up."

Mindy's monologue. A staple of the so-called 'franchise' you were tied up in. The whole friend group gathered on the grounds of your college, preparing to hear the numerous rules that undoubtedly come with the new title of this fucked up nightmare you were all living.

"Rule one! Everything is bigger than last time."

Great. Already off to a fantastic start. As Mindy began to explain what that meant, you grew increasingly concerned, not for your own safety, but for Tara's.

"Rule two! Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite."

Even better. Now, It apparently made no difference whether you had gone through this once before or not. To be honest, the idea of a serial killer following the conventions of a movie was still absurd and utterly terrifying to you, knowing full well what kind of fucked up shit happens in horror movies.

"And Rule three, no one is safe."

If your heart wasn't already racing, it was now hammering out of your chest as the gravity of the situation became clear. Tara shifted next to you at Mindy's comments, evidently similarly disturbed by the new rules.

But what frightened you the most was what Mindy said next. "Any of us could go at any time... especially Sam and Tara.". You had never felt so sick. You could feel beads of sweat dripping down the back of your neck as you nervously turned towards your girlfriend, fear overtaking your features.

Her eyes met yours briefly with a matching look of concern as Mindy started listing out the suspects. You had to admit Mindy was really good at this whole monologue thing, naming all the apparent suspects and their motives with ease.

That was until she looked in your direction.

"And finally, y/n.". You looked at her with wide eyes before your head rapidly scanned everyone else to see if you were the only one who didn't expect this. "The jealous girlfriend of the Tara Carpenter... who is also now, apparently, jacked.". You shook your head in denial. There was no way this was happening.

"Mindy, w-what? How come I'm a suspect? I mean, I was there for Woodsboro like you guys were... w-why?" you said, gesturing to the so-called 'core four' completely confused. A sense of betrayal was beginning to rise within you as Mindy continued to look at you with an almost sympathetic smile.

"Never trust the love interest," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "And besides, you have literally nothing to lose." Your mouth fell open. You inhaled sharply to keep your tears at bay, the comment being a ridiculously low blow from someone who typically looked out for you. "No parents, no Dewey. Even before the Woodsboro attack, you had no friends."

"Mindy!?" you heard Tara protest from next to you, clearly upset by her words. You sat in silence for a moment, processing what Mindy had said, and as much as you hated to admit it, she was right.

"No... she's right," you spoke sadly as you nodded your head, "But that's also why it wouldn't be me. I love Tara. I couldn't do anything to hurt her... ever.". You could feel Tara's eyes on you as you stared at Mindy, practically begging her to believe you, not that it mattered, seeing you weren't the killer.

But as far as everyone else was concerned, it very well could be you.

You were still slightly shaken from the group conversation a few hours ago, the realisation that you had nothing to lose playing on your mind as you sat on the couch with Anika. The 'core four' were too busy laughing whilst preparing dinner in the kitchen, whilst you spoke drearily with Anika.

"Have you guys talked about it?" Anika spoke, referring to your fight with Tara the other night. She did her best to comfort and guide you through your suffocating thoughts, your heavy bags under your eyes speaking volumes after another sleepless night. "Not really, no." "Why not?" "I don't know... We haven't really had the time, but I'm also just scared to bring it up."

Despite your new tough(er) exterior, you were still just as soft on the inside as you were before your meek existence got flipped on its head. "Well, I know for a fact that she loves you, and you love her. Your Y/n and Tara, you'll power through." Anika speaks softly, a playful smile playing on her lips as your head bobs gently, letting her words soak in.

"Yeah, well. I sure hope so." You finally move your gaze away from the girl sitting across from you, your tired eyes now landing on the TV screen as the news plays. Just as you begin to relax and enjoy the rest of your night, a new headline flashes across the bottom of the screen, erasing any traces of joy from your face.

'Sam Carpenter Named as Prime Suspect'

"Um, guys?" you shouted from your seat, loud enough to reach the others in the kitchen, whilst leaning forward to grab the remote. Turning the volume up as you hear footsteps enter the room behind you, your face scrunched in confusion as a video of Sam plays whilst the reporter's words make her out to be a psycho.

You risk a glance behind you. Sam's expression was completely blank as the light from the TV flickered on her face. You felt bad for her. You truly did. You struggle to grasp the fact that your friends didn't entirely trust you, and here she was with the entirety of New York being told she was the killer.

You were so preoccupied with the idea that the news dared to make this a story that you didn't notice Tara's eyes shifting to you. Her gaze has been drawn to your worn face. Your ordinarily bright eyes were heavy and unfocused as you stared in bewilderment at the television. She felt terrible about what she said to you a few nights before, and her heart only broke when she discovered how much damage her words had caused.

When Sam hastily turned the TV off and left the room, Tara's eyes left your figure briefly as she watched her sister move to sit solemnly at the dining table. She sighed defeatedly, the effects of Ghostface on the two of you shining brighter than they ever had before. Tara spared you one last worried glance before she followed her sister out of the room.

Chad and Mindy ultimately followed the girls, leaving you and Anika in stunned silence. The air in the room became unusually silent, the old pleasant chat between the two of you suffocated by the apartment's new tension and terror.

You sunk deeper into the couch as you pulled your legs up to your chest, the thick air ultimately releasing slightly as the sound of laughter flowed through the living room from the dining area. Tara's laughter rang in your ears, a sound you had so desperately missed.

You thought you felt her stare on you earlier, but you were too terrified to face it, your conversation with Anika still fresh in your memory. You leant your head against your knees and slowly closed your eyes, the general sound of genuine joy filling your ears as your breathing slowed and your body relaxed for the first time in ages.

You take a moment, revelling in your newfound tranquillity, to think on the emotional rollercoaster you had been sentenced to ride. Tara's love for you had never been questioned, and it wasn't her you didn't trust the night you stormed out. You knew she'd never cheat on you (or so you hoped), but you were unable to avoid what was staring you in the face.

Both at the party and in the comfort of your own home, someone you trusted and some random frat boy had come disturbingly close to finally severing the thread on which you dangled from the end of. You were holding on to Tara with your life, completely and totally unwilling to let go.

You heard the laughter slowly die before a harmony of notifications dinged throughout the apartment. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket as you and Anika exchanged a confused glance. Hesitantly pulling your phone out of your pocket, you blinked in numbed horror as a photo of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface opened on your screen.

With the previously unheard sound of groans and bangs filling the apartment, you and Anika bolt up from the couch as the others run into the room, eyes focused on Quinn's door. Tara runs towards the door, but you instinctively grab her arm and pull her back towards you.

The feeling of her skin on yours makes your heart skip a rapid beat. You attempted to hide how her touch had affected you as you stepped in front of her, happily offering yourself up to essentially be her meat shield.

Despite your scars burning at the thought, you would much rather be the one to get stabbed if it meant Tara would be ok.

The noises of a struggle ceased as you all stood frozen, your eyes locked on the bedroom door. The silence was deafening. Your dry lips parted in silent terror, unsure whether to breathe or to scream. A single drop of sweat slowly crept its way down your forehead, the suspense reaching an all-time high.

"Run."

You recoiled in horror as the door burst open, Quinn's mangled and bloodied body being thrown out. Anika let out a piercing scream as the body collided with her, taking her to the ground with it. You try to ignore the gruesome sight in front of you as you focus on helping Anika up off the floor.

"Y/n!" Your head whipped around at the sound of Tara's distressed scream. "Wait, Y/n! Come on!" You watched in horror as Chad dragged her out the front door, leaving the rest of you to try and fight off the killer that was standing in front of you.

"Shit. Tara!" When you had Anika back on her feet, you instantly tried to follow your girlfriend. If Chad were to have learnt anything from what you had gone through, you would think it would be to not split up. That is the number one rule in legitimately every horror movie.

"Rookie."

You made the fatal mistake of assuming they were foolish enough to allow another person to escape while scrambling towards the door in a rush to avoid the killer's gaze. The others in the room watched in horror as the masked assailant slashed their knife upward, slicing directly through your left eye.

A grotesque scream erupted from your chest as you fell back onto the floor. The left side of your face felt like it erupted in flames, a powerful throbbing, making it impossible for you to think as the world spun around you. With your good eye, you watched as a steady stream of blood poured out of your gaping wound, which spanned from your jaw and through your eyebrow.

The left side of your face was paralysed with pain unlike any you had felt before. You tried to apply pressure to it with your shaky hands, but the moment your cold fingers touched your split flesh, another broken scream escaped your lips as a wave of nausea washed over you.

Mindy and Anika's screams flew straight over your head as you kneeled on the floor, the taste of blood flooding your senses as the pool of blood underneath you grew wider by the second. You didn't notice Sam's arms hauling you up off the floor until her face came into your now-restricted field of vision.

"S-Sam," you sobbed, her eyes widening and her face turning pale as she saw your profusely bleeding wound. She didn't say anything as she carried your broken form into Quinn's blood-splattered room with Mindy and Anika. She let you go the moment you walked into the room, closing and locking the door behind her to keep Ghostface from following you.

The banging on the door shook the entire room as you worked hard to slow your breathing. As you stood up, the adrenaline in your system began to kick in, and the banging at the door ceased as Sam's troubled gaze met yours.

"Y/n! Bathroom door! Hurry!" Sam whispered desperately towards you as she maintained her iron grip on the bedroom door handle. Turning your head too hastily towards the door, your vision blurred from blood loss and genuine blood falling into your eye as you lurched towards it as swiftly as you could.

As you passed through the bathroom, your hands left bloody handprints on the walls, your journey delayed by the disgustingly disfigured body of one of Quinn's many lovers - you could never tell the difference. With tears dripping from one eye and blood from the other, you returned your focus to the open doorway.

As your eyes left the mangled body, the sight of the infamous Ghostface mask made you jump as yet another scream left your lips. Your reflexes were quick as you reached for the door, trying to close it before the killer got in, but in your weakened state, they easily pushed the door back open, knocking you back as you stumbled into Sam.

They took another swing at you, thankfully missing as Sam pulled you away before you lost another eye. The two of you quickly retreated into the bedroom before you successfully slammed the door shut. Mindy joined you in trying to keep the door shut by fiddling with the lock while Ghostface proceeded to kick it down.

The room shook violently as you and Sam pushed a dresser towards the door, hoping it would serve as a better barricade. Finally getting it in front of the door, you and Mindy stood firm as you continued to resist Ghostface's merciless attempts to tear the door down.

You could feel your adrenaline beginning to wear off as the paralysing pain returned to your face. Peering down, you noticed how your blood had stained a large amount of your skin a dark crimson colour. 'That's a lot of blood.'.

Scrunching your face in pain only caused another wave to hit you as you whimpered. "What are we gonna do, f-fuck." You whispered to yourself brokenly, closing your eye as you tried to ignore the fact you were being violently shaken by someone who wanted nothing more than to kill all of you.

With your only good eye shut, you failed to notice as Sam opened the window and pulled a ladder across from her boyfriend's apartment until she yelled, "You guys go first!". Your eye snapped open at her words as you took in what was happening.

You stayed silent as Mindy argued with Sam, eventually leading to Sam crossing the ladder first whilst you continued holding your makeshift barricade. Once Sam had crossed, Mindy looked towards you. "Go, Mindy.", you spoke assertively. She tried to argue with you, but you were having none of it. "Mindy, go! I've got the door. Just get across the fucking ladder!".

Despite your vision being impaired by your own warm blood, you watched with a ghost of a smile as Mindy and Anika exchanged a sweet kiss before Mindy climbed out the window. You suppose that was one positive about everything that was happening. As far as you knew, Tara was safe, and that was all you needed.

The banging at the door grew louder as Mindy cautiously climbed the ladder. Your frail body was being pushed around by the shaky door as you yelled furiously, "Mindy! "Please hurry!" When she finally made it to the other side, you groaned and turned your attention to Anika, who was bleeding out on the end of the bed.

"Anika, go.". Her wet eyes shot up to yours, looking at you as if you were insane. "Go, Anika. Please.". A few extra tears slipped from her eyes at your words, your complacency at being left alone to die hitting her harder than she expected. You gave her one final nod before she started climbing out the window.

Your grip on the door was slipping with each passing second, the constant banging and rattling eventually leading your feet to slip on the pool of blood that had accumulated beneath you - whose blood? Nobody knows. As you plummeted to the floor, the door shattered behind you, your gaze immediately moving to Anika, who was still less than halfway across the ladder.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." you mumbled desperately as you watched Ghostface finally stalk through the doorway with you in his sight. That was at least until he heard Anika's whimpers from outside the window, causing their masked face to follow her cries. Their head tilted menacingly as their path changed, no longer walking towards you but stalking up behind Anika.

You could hear her panicked cries from your place on the floor, and despite your natural relief that you weren't the chosen target, there was no way in hell you were letting them touch Anika.

You scramble to your feet as Ghostface stabs their knife into the window sill, grabbing the back of their robe and pulling them away from the window with every ounce of strength. As you swing your arm at them, missing their head and instead hitting the headboard, they stumble back into the bed with a grunt.

You didn't quite calculate how you would fight them, seeing you were basically blind, but that probably would have been a good idea.

"Dammit," you mutter worriedly as you trip backwards, your bruised knuckles doing no good as Ghostface stands back up and elbows you directly in your fresh, gaping wound. A hoarse scream escapes your throat as you collapse onto the ground in agony.

Your agonising screams could be heard across the ladder, forcing those on the other side to panic even more. When they saw Ghostface reappearing at the window, their shouts and pleading grew louder as they tried to urge Anika to come across.

Waves of pain shot through your entire body as you curled up on the floor, sobbing hysterically as you couldn't move no matter how hard you tried, absolutely paralysed by the pain.

As you tried to lift yourself off the floor, the sound of Anika's screams resonated in your ears, combined with the violent shaking of the ladder. At this stage, you were crying violently, knowing that if you didn't hurry up and get your shit together, Anika would be their next victim.

All because you couldn't handle the pain.

You leapt off the ground in a final fit of rage, lunging at Ghostface to throw them off-balance until they eventually backed away from the ladder.

It wasn't until now that you noticed the lack of Anika's screams.

Your face paled as you briefly looked out the window. Your blurry vision was met with a glaringly empty ladder and a completely distraught Mindy. Your lips began to quiver as your eyes met Mindy's, the tears that fell down her cheeks telling you everything you needed to know.

Your heartbreak quickly turned into pure rage at yourself and Ghostface.

Your breathing grew thin and ragged as you turned back to the tall black figure, your body shaking with rage. You could almost feel their arrogance from where you stood, evidently relishing seeing you distressed.

They ripped their knife from the window sill before tossing it playfully in their hand. You, on the other hand, remained unfazed, solely concerned with the idea that this mother fucker was going to suffer for what he had just done. You rapidly ducked as their knife swung towards your head before smashing your fist into their masked jaw, their shrouded form staggering backwards at the impact.

"You. Fucking. Asshole." You spoke as you continued to throw punches at them, your rage fuelling every last bit of energy you had left. Ghostface appeared to be taken aback by your sudden outburst, at a complete loss as to what to do with their knife remaining useless in their hand as they try to protect themselves from your furious blows.

With one final punch to the face, their body crashed into the wall behind them, as they fell unconscious. With tears falling consistently down your face, you gave the killer one last look as you stood up and backed away towards the window (you never trusted them to actually be unconscious). The others began yelling your name in relief and desperation when they saw you, assuming you were dead after single-handedly defeating the madman.

Their calls broke you out of your rage-filled trance as you sucked in a large breath before looking across the ladder towards them. The pain was beginning to resurface as you felt your knees start to buckle underneath you.

"Y/n! let's go, come on!" Sam called out to you, desperation laced in her voice. You climbed out the window with one last glance at the body before you. As Anika's body came into view, you felt yourself holding back a gag. The sight of her body, combined with your weakened state, almost made you pass out and share a similar fate.

Your gentle whimpers accompanied you as you carefully climbed the shaking ladder, Sam and Mindy's beautiful voices promising you that everything would be OK - you had no option but to trust them. As blood flows from your agonising wound onto the ladder's rungs, you crawl with as much focus as possible.

Closing in on Sam's boyfriend's window, the girls both reach their arms out to you as they grab onto you and pull you into the apartment. The three of you collapse to the ground in a heap, clutching each other tightly as if one of you might slip away if the others let go.

"Tara and Chad are on their way", you heard Sam's boyfriend say as you continued to sob into her shoulder, her hands carefully avoiding your face. You remained in that position as you felt your body begin to go numb as your blood and adrenaline continued seeping from your body.

Feeling your body go weak, Sam pulls your head back gently as she goes to help you lie down. Mindy and Sam gently place you on the floor, lying on your back, your bloodied and distraught face facing the empty ceiling.

"Holy shit, y/n!"

Your girlfriend's distraught voice did not affect you as your single eye started drifting shut slowly. As blackness starts to encroach, you catch a final glimpse of Tara as she appears next to you, her face stricken with worry as her hands hover near your disfigured face.

"Y/n!?"

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega@thenextdawn @zhasmindoesntknow @faunusrubyrose @harleyspunchingbag @yourmamacom@rockwyn @androgynouscloudenemy@padf00ts-l0ver @wol-fica @captainbeat @sophiexoxo-lol @perfectartisanwerewolf

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega imagine #scream 2022 #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #simp4wom3n

1K notes · View notes

aryxchse · 6 months

Note

No cause now I need more. Like I don't know headcannons or something about how they got together and how their parents reacted.

LIKR IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS!SGAHSJSKSN

Something- anything please I am begging😭

percy jackson x daughter of amphitrite! reader headcanons.

a / n : feeding my inner self ship here LMAO and also this is literally headcanons that made up from my ass, so idk if amphitrite would have a cabin, because they didn't make one even for her honor sooo.. yeah

warnings : cursing, fighting, blood mention, injury mention, basically just two waterbenders in love

- it was all camp half blood's fault

- you didn't had a cabin of your own, but they thought you staying in the poseidon cabin was the best decision

- well it was.. until percy got claimed

- you both had to share the same cabin, and he wasn't the best at keeping it clean

- all those years, getting a 10 from the cabin check, you got 5 because of him

- and it made you furious

- but, a nice girl you are, instead of breaking his heart, you warned him

- "next time we get a 5 from the cabin check, i will break your surfboard into pieces 😊"

- "yes ma'am 🫡" no ofc he didn't said that

- but he thought that as he nervously shake his head

- well, he didn't really had a time to clean his cabin, so the promise was forgotton

- and you learned to pick up after his back

- it was a beautiful afternoon when annabeth barged into your cabin

- "percy's in a fight and we can't stop him."

- these are the questions that you should've asked when she said that : what's that have to do with me? what am i even gonna do? why are you coming to me? what the fu-

- but what you did instead : run to percy

- alright, i guess you two have a bond now

- "alright seaweed brain, get your ass back up," you said as you yanked grabbed him by the arm and pushing him aside

- he tried to run to the boy he was beating back again, but you just pushed him by his chest and slowly lead him to your cabin

- "dude what the hell is going on with you?" you asked as you both enter. he was panting, sitting on his bed and holding his head. "percy? i asked you a question."

- "he was saying something shitty about you, and i couldn't just stand there and listen him. okay?" he said, not facing you.

- oh

- ooohhhhhh

- 😏

- "why though?" you sat next to him on the bed, too suprised to even get mad at him

- "you always got my back in cabin check so, i got your back outside, i guess." he simply shrugged

- alright mr in love

- and with that, you both got really close

- this was your breaking point in 'awkward energy'

- surfing competitions where it's just you two racing? check

- married dolphin and shark plushies? check

- going to an aquarium? double check

- the animals were once your enemy back then because of your mother, was your friends now

- same as percy

- and when you both started dating, percy realised how relaxed he was around you

- like when he was little, he would listen to ocean sounds to calm himself down after a stressful day

- and you have the same affect on him

- later he learned that children of amphitrite have that affect on children of poseidon and that's why annabeth bringed you that day

- talking of the parents

- the meeting was the most hilarious thing happened to you both

- because they already knew

- one time. ONE TIME YOU KISSED PERCY UNDERWATER AND THE FUCKING FISH WERE ALREADY EVERYWHERE-

- "ohh lord perseus and princess y/n"

- "ohh they're kissing"

- and suprisingly gossip spreads around ocean VERY FAST

- you both got a call from atlantic or smth to get there fast

- they weren't angry or anything, poseidon loved you and weirdly your mom loved percy

- they were just.. suprised

- "what type of history shit is going on here-"

- "POSEIDON."

- you understand where percy got his humor from now

- alright moving on to real parent SALLY MF JACKSON!!

- you think you being her ex's wife's daughter will make her hate you?

- well yeah, but sally jackson is the definition of angel

- and she doesn't care about your godly side as long as you're making percy happy by just being in his life

- so as you can say, you guys are already besties

- moving on again to u and percy

- underwater kisses duh

- silly blue shirts about fishes

- watching ariel, moana, lost fish nemo and dory and all of the sea shit together

- and recreating the musical scenes

- you having a signature pegasus friend like him

- and him having a dolphin one like you

- you guys just rule the lake atp

- living in the same cabin is the best thing ever happened to percy

- because he get to cuddle you EVERY NIGHT without having to worry about getting caught

- and tyson? basically your children

- seashell jewelry gifts from percy

- always wearing blue together

- also eating blue food

- this fic is really long rn but you both are yue and sokka tbh

- give yue one more chance!!

#and give amphitrite and hera a chance!!#perseus jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy x you #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show

249 notes · View notes

imagionationstation · 9 months

Text

I Got Bored So I Analyzed Mikey And Splinter’s Relationship, As One Does

I love rewatching the 2012series after hearing about how terrible Mikey&Splinter’s relationship is because it always leaves me so confused to the point where I have to reconsider everything the internet says and everything I believe.

What if, for a moment, we see what the episodes have to say.

One thing they make very clear is that Splinter does not see Mikey as any less intelligent than his brothers. Several times during the series, the Sensei does not hesitate to openly agree with his youngest’s statement. He holds him to standards that are equally as high as the one Splinter gives to his brothers.

“How many times have I told you not to skateboard in the lair?”

“None, Sensei.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!”

“No, Michelangelo, you are right.”

“I am?”

“He is?”

“We gotta take him down.”

“Yes, Michelangelo, you do.”

Beyond agreeing with him, Splinter allows his youngest to have his say when he argues with the Sensei. He doesn’t shut him down or talk over him. Even if all of his sons disagree with Mikey, Splinter will hear him out and can even be seen changing his mind.

“There is no monster more dangerous than a lack of compassion.”

“My mistake.”

“We’re doing to him what everyone else does to us! Judging him for his looks!”

“But he was fighting the Kraang, Master Splinter. It’s like you always say! The enemy of my enemy is my bro.”

“That is not exactly what I’ve said…”

“Mm. I see. You’ve made a wise decision, Michelangelo.”

Master Splinter also doesn’t doubt his abilities. He can recognize his son’s strengths and won’t hesitate to put them to good use.

“When he awakens, Michelangelo, you must find a way to befriend him.”

“No problemo.”

The Sensei doesn’t challenge Mikey any harder than he challenges his brothers. Splinter never makes him out to be inferior when he’s teaching him something compared to them.

“Michelangelo. Why did you give up so easily?”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“There is always something you can do. Observe.”

“The key is to unbalance your opponent.”

“But how?”

“However you can. For example…”

While he doesn’t exactly understand how his mind works, he comprehends that his unique way of learning is to be nurtured and molded. He knows that some of his quirks are gifts to be appreciated. He even goes as far as using Mikey’s natural skill as an example of how to fight in order to instruct his brother.

“The nunchaku because… Um, they are perfect for you!”

“I just don’t understand how you can fight without thinking.”

“Observe… You see? Mikey does not think.”

“Thank you~”

“You must find the space between your thoughts and learn to live there. That’s what Michelangelo does.”

Mikey idolizes his sensei, but not quite to Leo’s extent. He takes in all the lessons that resígnate with him to heart, even to the point that he can quote them back to his father and brothers. (Revisit: “But he was fighting the Kraang, Master Splinter. It’s like you always say! The enemy of my enemy is my bro.”) Splinter spends a good amount of the show teaching lessons, such as don’t judge those who are different from you, peace is better than war, and a lack of compassion is the true monster. Mikey is consistently seen prompting these ideals in everything that he does, consciously or unconsciously mimicking his father.

“Raphael! Clearly, April is upset.”

“Yeah, dude, that’s so insensitive.”

“Yeah, that’s all good, but like Master Splinter would say, we must accept the hand that the universe has dealt usssss.”

They recognize cues from one another without anything being said. Reading their tones and expressions with ease, catching things that others in the room don’t notice, at least, not yet.

“You okay, Sensei?”

“Forgive me… My thoughts are… Elsewhere, Michelangelo.”

“Well, yeah. Cause old people never care how they look. Or smell.”

*sus Sensei squint*

*awkward laugh* *whistling*

“My son. I sense there is something you’d like to tell us.”

There are even times when they are in sync. A favorite example would be when Mikey throws down a smoke bomb and Splinter reappears in the same instance. It may be played off as a joke, but this is crack that the show takes very seriously.

“This is serious. I better get Splinter.”

“Um, we don’t really need-”

“Michelangelo said you wanted to see me?”

The two of them don’t have a lot of one-on-one screen time, but I often think that this isn’t because Splinter is outright ignoring his youngest. In fact, this is because, despite not being “as smart” as his brothers, he doesn’t need to give Mikey as much schooling as the rest of them. Leo seeks him out for advice, Raph needs help to mold his temper and impulsive nature, and Donnie needs to learn how calm his anxieties or how to react to social situations.

Mikey vibes with the world and follows his brothers’ leads. His mistakes are theirs and the rules that he follows are based off Sensei’s teaching. He’s smart in his own way, he has the instinct and the skills to fight and defend himself and his brothers, and he doesn’t need Master Splinter looking over his shoulder all the time.

He’s not useless. In some ways, he’s just a daddy’s boy.

Maybe the memory in Requiem wasn’t simply lazy writing.

Maybe, to him, this was an unspoken moment where Splinter acknowledges that and more.

277 notes · View notes

jaelvr · 6 months

Text

oops

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 12. “Ow! What did I do this time?!” + 35. “If anything happens to me, remember that I’ll always love you.”

Pairing : spiderman! Mark x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings : mutual feelings, friends to lovers, idol au, fluff, slightly ooc

Have a great day !!

——————————

"Holy shit dude!" you murmured, eyes widening as you took in the scene, your best friend had just swung through his window. You had been sitting in his room, scribbling away at his desk while you waited for him to get home when he'd swung through the window - no, wait, spiderman had swung through the window. As soon as Spiderman turned, his expression went from confused to shocked and a slight blush spread its way across his cheeks once the reality of the situation set in. His hands shook out of nervousness and slight panic as he thought about every decision he’d made that led him here. He cleared his throat before finally speaking. “um…” he mumbled.

"You're Spiderman?!" you gasped, letting out a nervous laugh as you stood up. “yeah…” He sighed and looked away, then back at you. he crossed his arms and tried to stand up straighter. though he was the one doing the whole superhero shtick, he still lacked confidence when talking to you. “I guess you know now.” His hands fidgeted with his suit’s sleeves as he spoke. "Do the others know? Does Hyuck know?" you rambled, standing in front of him as you looked at his suit. "How does it work?-" You continued, getting excited and not noticing his slightly overwhelmed expression.

“Wait slow down- no, Hyuck doesn’t know. most people don’t. and uh…” Mark took a breath to focus and gather his thoughts. he didn’t think he’d have to really explain any of the superhero business to you. He was really nervous about what you were thinking right now. “uh, how does what work?” He asked, trying to keep up with all the questions you were throwing at him. "Sorry, I'm uh..I'm probably overwhelming you right now." you apologised sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Nah, it’s fine….” he chuckled nervously and fidgeted with his fingers. Mark didn’t get nervous around anyone but he was always nervous around you. “So… do you think I’m weird now?” he wondered, slightly anxious about your reaction.

"Weird? Mark, my best friend is Spiderman! Do you know how cool that is?" you gushed, cheeks a gentle pink and a massive grin on your face. “R-really? you’re fine with it and don’t think I’m some weirdo?” The way he spoke implied that people he knew before would react differently, hence the nervousness. “You’re not gonna think of me differently now? like, you’re still gonna want to hang out with me?” he wondered in disbelief. "Mark, nothing could stop me from hanging out with you." you assured gently, sitting on his bed.

His heart melted. Mark could never truly put into words how much it meant to him to have someone like you in his life. You never thought he was odd, or a weirdo. You liked him for the person that he was inside. The superhero stuff was just a bonus. he stepped forward and sat beside you. “seriously? you mean it? you’re not going to treat me any differently now that you know?” Mark mumbled hesitantly, unsure of your response. "You're still the same Mark Lee, right?" you teased gently, cupping his face. “I mean yeah…” he looked down at your hand touching his face, a tinge of blush crept to his cheeks. after a few more seconds, he looked back up at you. “but I’m a superhero now. Doesn’t that make me cooler or something?”

"You've always been cool to me." you murmured, caressing his cheek. “you’re going to make me cry.” his cheeks were fully flushed and his heart was racing. Mark was more in love with you than usual. If he could, he would’ve kissed you right now. but he was too shy and knew that if he did it now, it would be super cheesy. "You're still gonna come to our movie nights right? And you're not too cool for cuddles?" you teased gently, a small smile on your face as you looked at him and your cheeks heating up. he chuckled. You definitely caught him off guard. “yeah, I'm not gonna just stop hanging out with you because I'm a superhero. and no, I'll never be too cool for cuddles.” he took one of your hands and rubbed his thumb over your wrist, smiling softly.

"… I missed you." you admitted gently, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you too….” he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. His fingers found a way into your hair, running through the strands lovingly. Mark was thankful for this moment, this moment of comfort, but he also wanted more. "promise you'll try and be careful out there?" you muttered, playing with his hand. “I promise I'll be the most careful I can be.” his hand tightened on yours as if to reassure you. Mark was grateful for this conversation. that now, you were fully aware of what he did during his spare time, you were worried for him. and he felt thankful that you cared about his well being. He leaned his head onto yours, pressing his forehead to yours. “If anything happens to me, remember that I’ll always love you.”

A small smile settled on your face, your cheeks heating up and your heart rate speeding up at the unexpected confession of reciprocated feelings. You let out a soft chuckle before gently punching his arm, forehead still against his. “Ow! What did I do this time?!” Mark playfully shoved you back, giving you a teasing glare, though his blush grew in the process. He thought back to a few times throughout the day when he’d caught you staring at him with a soft smile. Mark could’ve sworn you were flirting, but he didn’t know for certain. At that exact moment, he wanted to ask you, but he was too nervous. "Don't joke about stuff like that!" you pouted, sending him a soft smile. "I'm serious, Mark Lee. I can't lose you."

His heart started hammering. there was a chance. a chance that you were serious about all this, all this flirting, all this… the thought of it being true made him weak in the knees. he cleared his throat and spoke while still looking at your lips. ”Okay, but, what if I told you I felt the same way?” Mark answered back, deciding to take the chance. "then I'd tell you to kiss me right now." you responded, lips brushing against his. his breath caught in his throat as your lips brushed against his. All his self-control escaped him and his lips met yours, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you even closer, kissing you back enthusiastically. After a few moments, his breath was heavy and he was practically panting. Mark let go of you and looked away, his cheeks very flushed. He tried to get himself together. “…so, uh…” he started.

He didn't get a chance to speak before he was tugged into another kiss, a smirk plastered on his face as he felt your hands tangle in his hair. Mark's eyes fluttered close once your lips were against his once more. His hands went back to your waist and his arms wrapped around you once again, pulling you into a tight embrace as he kissed you back. His lips moved with yours in tandem, kissing you over and over. Mark's heart beat faster as the seconds passed by, but he couldn't stop because he didn’t want to get off of this high.

This beautiful high.

214 notes · View notes

ofsappho · 2 years

Text

Heartless

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, smut in the next chapter (and the chapters after).

Reader is disabled/chronically ill (and so is the author)

You need health insurance. Ghost is sick of sharing living quarters with the rest of the 141. Soap, your childhood friend, thinks the two of you can fix each other’s problems.

Or, Ghost and you have to convince his command that you didn’t just meet each other and your marriage is totally, completely, 100% legit. Not for any, more practical reasons. And, of course, your married-couple accommodations only have one bed.

Chapter 1:

This will either be the stupidest decision you’ve ever made or the greatest stroke of brilliance you’ve ever had. And there is no in-between.

When Soap ducks his head into the coffee shop, you’re more than a little relieved to see him in one piece, plus or minus a few silvery scars scattered across his face and peeking out of his sleeves, the collar of his jacket.

And the dumbass aviators you bought him as a high school graduation present hang from the dip of his shirt. You know Soap thinks he looks badass, but the placement reminds you more of ‘Patagonia dad who likes hiking’ than it does ‘mysterious hardened special forces dude.’

He’s so built that he has to carefully pick his way between crowded tables, just so he doesn’t knock over someone’s drink or trip into a random stranger’s elbow.

You more or less tackle him into the biggest hug you can. “Soap! You’re not dead!” Ever since he joined his super-duper-top-secret whatever the fuck, you’ve gotten used to the communication dead zones in your years-long friendship. The silence never stops worrying you, though.

Johnny chuckles and practically lifts you off your feet. “Neither are you! Congratulations!” You know he’s relieved to see you as well by the way he ruffles your hair.

You fucking hate it when he does that, which is, of course, why it’s become a tradition every time you see him.

He pisses you off, you piss him off. “Twinning!”

The glare he tosses your way has all the menace of a kitten attacking a curtain. “Fuck does that mean? You know I can’t keep up with your American slang.” You’re a good friend who pre-ordered his ridiculous caramel latte with extra caramel, and Soap sits happily in front of it.

He learned that he enjoyed heart-stoppingly sweet drinks on accident - a case of mistaken identity where you unintentionally grabbed Soap’s macho Americano, and he drank half of your caramel latte in revenge. And here you are, years later, watching him slurp down a milk foam heart.

“Awww, too much for the brain cells you have left?” Teasing him as easy as breathing and a welcome distraction for the anxiety attack-inducing question you must ask.

The general coffee shop ambient noise swells in your ears. An espresso machine malfunctions, almost loud enough to make you jump, and you try to disguise it by sipping your iced tea. No caffeine; you’re nervous enough without it.

“I could have you arrested for that,” Soap quips. Please. As if you’d let him try. One call to his commanding officer about his pre-service shenanigans, and you’d have his ass court-martialed.

“Abuse of the power of the Armed Forces? Very ethical.” You raise an eyebrow and lace your voice with haughtiness, even flicking some hair over your shoulder.

Then you need to pass Johnny a few napkins to mop up the latte dripping from his nose out of laughter. ��I’m glad to see you,” He tells you, and the sober, knowing look in his eyes makes your stomach drop out. He doesn’t miss a thing. He’d probably be dead or fired from his job if he did. “Though I know this isn’t a social call.”

Well. You’re in for it now. “Yeah, unfortunately, it isn’t.” The words taste like dust in your mouth, and the lemony-black tea barely washes it out. Just to give yourself something to do, you pop the plastic lid off and tip a couple of ice cubes into your mouth before chomping down.

“What’s going on?”

How do you summarize the horrifically, brutally stressful whirlwind of the last few weeks without inspiring the annoying, patronizing pity you’ve gotten from literally everyone else you’ve vented to? You’re not a victim to be coddled or a child to be given advice you’ve already thought of, tried, and failed at.

“I’m losing my health insurance at the end of the month” is what you decide on in the end.

He knows exactly what that means for you. For your future. Soap shakes his head ruefully. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve been sick for a while, diagnosed the year after the two of you graduated high school. The kind of sick that is simply a freak accident of nature, causing your body to attack itself over and over until the day you’ll drop dead from complications. It wouldn’t take much; maybe a regular infection burning you alive with a fever your crippled immune system can’t stop, or a benign cut from a kitchen knife that will bleed and bleed until you’re halfway to the coroner’s office.

And then there’s your shitty, damaged, degenerated spine that keeps you in bed for weeks at a time with crippling, numbing pain.

Without health insurance, things won’t look good for your quality of life. And you like your quality of life to be decent. You’d settle for passable.

Really, it sounds worse than it is, and you try to console him. “It’s okay. It was eventually going to happen. I had hoped to have a little more time, though.” You remember the call from the insurance company like it just happened yesterday. You were loading dishes into the dishwasher and listening to Fleetwood Mac on the radio. And some poor customer service representative told you they were increasing your monthly payments beyond what they knew you could afford, so they’d have to drop you.

You watch him open his mouth as if to tell you that you should’ve said something sooner. But he’s been deployed for the past four months. He pauses and resets to something a little more helpful. “How can I help?” That’s something you have liked about Johnny a lot since you were kids. He cares more about what he can do.

Your anxiety permits your lungs to take one big, fortifying inhale. “Well…” Dragging it out will only make this worse, you know, but you really, really, really hate that it’s come to this. “This is fucking embarrassing.” You tried to find a way to pay the premiums; you really did. But you work forty hours a week already and trying to get more shifts, maybe find a new job, do this, do that, appeal, all of that has been futile and draining. “Will you marry me?”

He drops his half-empty cup on the table, forceful enough that some of the coffee spills out. “What?”

Soap’s partially-scandalized shock is not what you hoped for as a reaction. But you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything better.

The worst part of this conversation is over. It can’t get more nerve-wracking. “Marry me. Like. Get legally married. I could get on military benefits, and my meds would be covered.” He doesn’t swing your way, but surely signing some paper and standing before a judge is, like, not the most terrifying thing Soap has ever done. “And- and I know there’s stuff in it for you, too, like a better apartment or whatever. I can cook. Better than you, that’s for sure.” One of your friends had to teach him how not to burn water.

He just sits there in silence. “Please,” You add on softly. Desperately. This is your last-ditch attempt, your Hail Mary.

At last, Soap’s shoulders slump, and you know, from that alone, that he’s gonna say no. Miracles are rarely performed for ordinary people. “I would if I could, but… I’m sort of already married,” He sighs, then winces, waiting for your inevitable unhappy outburst.

…

You blink a few times, brain furiously recalibrating everything you know. John got married, and he didn’t even invite you? Or tell you? You’re supposed to be his friend. That’s so rude, ouch. You would have even gotten him some expensive shit off his gift registry.

A fucking Keurig, for God’s sake. “What? Who?” You demand, more outraged that he would leave you out of his life than you are over him declining your proposal

Underneath that deep, sunburnt tan, you see Soap blush. “Jeremy from final year.”

You’d throw your empty cup at him, but he’d just duck. “I knew you were fucking him! I knew it! You tried to gaslight me and say you weren’t, but I saw the hickies on his neck!” There were only so many times Johnny ducked out of a math classroom covered in sweat, followed shortly by your classmate, before you put the pieces together.

Oh, but the rest of your friends called you a conspiracy theorist and told you to mind your business. Now, who’s laughing?

Soap holds his hands up in the universal ‘don’t shoot’ sign. “He needed health insurance. We’re married on paper. Haven’t seen him in a few years, but I know he’s doing alright.” Naturally, he’s already selflessly committed marriage fraud. You honestly should’ve seen that coming; that’s why you wanted to propose in the first place and figured you’d have a slim chance of success.

“Shit.” Now you’re back to square one. And it’s a shitty square, with walls that close in around you with every passing second.

The regret in his eyes overflows when he sees your slumped shoulders, how you’re picking at your cuticles hard enough to bleed. “‘M sorry. If I wasn’t locked down, you know that I’d do it for you in a heartbeat.” The worst part is that you know he’s being sincere, not just parroting empty platitudes.

Right. Well. That’s it, then.

You rub at your closed eyes, then at the stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Fuck. It’s fine, I know. I will… I’ll figure it out,” You sigh. Less than convincing, but it doesn’t need to be.

There are probably options you just haven’t thought of yet. Or maybe you can work something out with your doctor, where you only get your meds every other month. “I got it covered. Don’t worry about me.” You instantly see Soap rush to shake his head, to tell you that he’s always worried about you. You want to chastise him, tell him that he has plenty of things to be worried about in his own life. “Shush. It’s fine.” But you don’t have the heart to rake him over the coals for it now, so you settle for that.

You should go. You have things to do, things that include crying in your bed with the curtains drawn and urgently refreshing your email to see if anyone's gotten back to you. New jobs, aid organizations for low-income people, any further bad news.

Soap catches your wrist before you can say the appropriate goodbyes and rush out of the cafe. “Look- hold on- let me… let me ask my… friends.” He wrinkles his nose as he says it with an odd, stilted tone. Like ‘friends’ is a replacement for something he can’t say out loud in a civilian setting.

You can put the pieces together. “Is that what you’re calling your coworkers?”

“That’s classified, shut up.” His Scottish accent pops out there stronger than good malt whiskey. Hope is an easily-caught flame and far more difficult to extinguish. When you smile at him, you find it’s not entirely false. “Let me ask around, okay? They’re good guys. You might need to do the heavy lifting with your sparkling personality, but I can try.”

‘Sparkling personality’ is sort of ominous. ‘Don’t give them shit,’ is what he means to say. That’s fine, you’ve worked in customer service before. You can be on your best behavior.

You’re not exactly sure what kind of dude would be willing to marry a stranger, even if that is the kind of dude you want to marry.

But desperate times, desperate measures. “Thank you. Really. It would mean the world and… would probably save my life.” You didn’t mean to get as choked up at the end as you do. No one else has been willing to help you, though, and Soap’s answering hug feels like desperately needed hope reviving itself in your chest.

“I’ve got you. And I hope I can help in the end, even if it’s not what you originally had in mind.”

Soap runs through his team members in his mind as he waits for the gate guard to scan his ID, trying to recall who’s tied down and who isn’t.

Captain’s got a wife, he thinks, and he’s a wee bit too old for you anyway.

It takes a second for the starry-eyed guard to hand him back the card and lift the gate.

You picked a good time to call him up; not only is he in town, menacing the local army base, but so is the rest of the 141—a rarity.

Vargas would certainly charm you, but Soap trusts Alejandro with you about as far as he could throw him.

Out of all the idiots he went to school with, you’re the only idiot who stuck around through the early years of his service, and you pursued your friendship like a hound after a fox even when he couldn’t properly reciprocate.

So John feels some responsibility for looking out for you, as you’ve always looked out for him.

Garrick wouldn’t be a half-bad choice. Dependable, responsible. Friendly, so your sham marriage would at least be enjoyable.

His mind drifts to his own errant mostly-platonic husband as he parks the borrowed car in his numbered space. Jeremy. The last time they spoke was over three years ago? Maybe four. Jeremy had found himself a new boyfriend and called to let him know, asking if Soap wanted a legal divorce. He was moving to some godforsaken corner of America. Florida? Maybe. That place has got too many fuckin’ states for him to remember them all.

They worked it out - they’d stay married, and Jeremy would keep out of his way. No love lost.

Roach could do it for you in a pinch as well. A little quiet, but maybe you’d work out something like him and Jeremy. Staying out of each other’s way.

Soap dismisses Lieutenant Riley without a second thought. On his best day, Ghost is about as inviting and amenable as a particularly hungry great white shark. And even if God himself came down from Heaven and changed Ghost’s heart to be interested, Soap would worry about you.

A lot. Even more than he already does, since the day you sobbed in his arms after school when you were first diagnosed. Since that day he had to help you out of bed because you could neither walk nor miss any more class.

Does he trust Ghost enough to fight alongside him? To have his back when there’s a gun against his head? Absolutely. Does he think Ghost would treat one of his oldest friends properly, befitting of the funny, kind, vibrant person you are? Abso-fuckin’-lutely not.

So that puts Gaz and Roach in his top choices for you and Vargas as a last-tier resort.

Armed forces worldwide, in Scotland and America, are all about efficiency. Eliminating redundancy.

And if that’s the excuse Johnny uses to justify blindsiding his whole team at once, so he doesn’t need to have this conversation three damn times and hear three separate rejections? That’s between him and God.

He herds them like sheep, plucking the Captain from his office, Garrick and Alejandro from conditioning in the gym, disturbing Roach’s book. Ghost appears out of nowhere as if summoned by the disturbance and falls in behind Soap. Not a single damn sound, of course. While that’s useful on deployment, he still has to tamp down on the instinct to jump every time he sees a skull mask hovering out of the corner of his eye in everyday life.

No matter. The lieutenant will likely wander out when the subject matter is revealed. It would raise more red flags if he told Ghost off.

He barely gets Lt. Riley through the pool room door before Captain jumps him. “Sergeant. What’s the trouble?”

That’s fuckin’ rude. “Why’d you assume I’m in trouble?” He indignantly replies. Except… yeah, there was that time he borrowed a humvee he had no permission to touch, and Captain covered for him to Laswell. Shit. “Well, I’m not.” At least, not this time.

Soap opens his mouth to argue this because it’s hardly fair for Cpt. Price to point fingers only to be cut off. “What is it?” At least Price has the decency to file the sharp edges off of his voice this time.

Right. He almost feels guilty getting sidetracked over something so stupid when he’s gathered everyone here for an infinitely more important reason.

Where does he start? How the fuck does he proposition them without sounding absolutely mental? “I… Hear me out.” Instantly, Garrick shakes his head ‘no,’ and Cpt.’s face remains as unmoved as a brick wall. Definitely not how he should have opened. “Wouldn’t be asking if the situation wasn’t desperate.” Soap opens his hands in the vain hope that the gesture will make them listen, at minimum.

You loathed hospitals and doctor’s offices when you first got sick. Now, you see the inside of them so often that it hardly fazes you. Still, Johnny always went along when you asked. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.

The countless memories of holding your hand as some faceless nurse sticks an IV in your elbow is the motivation that steps on the gas. “I have this friend,’ He tells them.

“You have friends?” If Vargas weren’t separated from him by the pool table, he’d reach over and stick an elbow in his side. What is it, official ‘piss off Sgt. MacTavish’ day?

They get in a laugh at his expense. “Shut up, you reprobate.” He puts enough bite in his tone to cut through the ruckus with the keenness of a knife. “I have this friend. Since I was a lad. She’s a good girl, good person. She needs our help.”

Everyone knows what he means by ‘good person,’ and the mere mention of a civilian girl in distress softens Gaz’s scowl and Alejandro’s scorn.

Their Captain nods, now significantly more amenable to this conversation than he was at the beginning. “Help?” Progress is progress, and for the first time, Soap allows himself to think he might be able to persuade someone.

“Yeah, well… you know these fuckin’ Americans. They don’t give a damn if people die like dogs in the streets. She lost her health insurance, and she’s… She’s ill. She’ll be ill for the rest of her life.” That’s something Johnny will never understand about this side of the pond. The NHS was never good, but at least it exists. All that freedom and shit, for what?

“Sorry to hear that. Fucking shame,” Price murmurs.

“I was wondering if any of you might be interested in marrying her. For the fuckin’... benefits. I dunno know what exactly they are, but she mentioned new living quarters for her soldier.” He really ought to have looked this up beforehand and found some other things to sweeten the pot. “I’m already married. Had to turn the poor lass down, and I told her I’d at least ask you lot.”

Their captain gets up and off his ass like the stool’s on fire. “Alright. MacTavish, I’m leaving the room now. I’m going back to my office, and do not disturb me until you’re done,” He orders, mustache practically fuckin’ bristling with urgency. “I didn’t hear or see a thing.” With his parting words finished, Johnny watches the man book it out of the pool room in double time.

While he understands and appreciates the discretion, was that truly necessary? They’ve all done exponentially worse things than this.

His first choice makes a break for it, too. “Sorry, Soap,” Garrick declines. “I’m out. I’m sure she’s a delightful person, though being friends with you doesn’t speak highly of her life choices. But that’s a big ask, and I just don’t know her.” The sergeant taps him on the shoulder as he walks out in a silent show of support.

“‘Course.” With each man who leaves, his worry increases.

What voicemails will await him after he returns from the next mission? That things went horribly wrong, and you’ll be hospitalized for the rest of your life, or maybe even dead?

Whatever it is, there won’t be anything he can do by then. That’s the worst part.

“Yeah, can’t do it either, Sarge. I got a girl already.” Right. There goes Sanderson.

At least Alejandro has the decency to look genuinely sympathetic. “Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

Soap watches him leave and wonders if you’re still awake. It’s not late for him, but who knows? Maybe you keep normal hours now. “Yeah, I will.” You’d prefer to hear the bad news as soon as possible, but he would hate to wake you for it.

But he can’t ignore the ghoul haunting the corner any longer. “What are you still doing here, Lt.? I’ve gotta tell her I can’t help, and I don’t think you’d care to overhear that conversation.” His voice is a little sharper than is nice and proper, overflowing with prickly irritation like too much tea in a cracked cup. Of all the times for Ghost to not mind his fucking business…

“…what she look like?”

“What?”

And Riley’s got the audacity to repeat himself, slower, as if he’s stupid. “What does she look like? Got a picture?”

“Is this a joke?” Simon should stick to shitty quips about goldfish. At least those are tasteful.

The man doesn’t laugh, shake his head, or leave now that he’s successfully rattled Soap. He just stands there, as grave as always. Motherfucker. He means it. “Fuckin’… yeah, hold on,” Soap sighs as he fumbles for his phone.

He’s desperate because you’re desperate. He tells himself that, over and over, as he looks for a half-decent selfie. You’re a big girl, you knew what you were risking when you asked him for help.

Ghost takes his phone in his gloved hand. “Not bad,” He murmurs after a while. “I’ll do it. Marry her.”

A beat passes. Soap lets another one go.

Alright. The grace period is over and done with. “This is a really shitty, serious thing to mess around about. Genuinely. Don’t do that to her or me. This is about her health. Her life.” Johnny likes Lt. Riley. Really, he does. Even under all the freaky mask shit.

But this is mean-spirited. It would almost be out of character. It’s one thing to be careless if his sparring partner walks away with permanent nerve damage. This is fucking cruel if he doesn’t mean it.

Ghost can read minds now. “I mean it.” His chuckle makes Johnny fix his surprised expression into something more stern and imperceptible. “She’s desperate, isn’t she? I’ll do it.” When he walks closer, the changing light makes that skull on his face flash in and out of existence.

“Why?” If he can’t come up with a somewhat satisfactory answer… Soap’s fist can probably reach him fine from here.

And in a rather remarkable show of humanity, he watches Ghost pinch the bridge of his nose through his mask. “Think I like listening to you snore? Or fuckin’ Roach chattering on Discord at four in the morning?” Johnny never knew Ghost was such a little princess about that. Who would’ve thought?

The other man huffs a laugh. “Need my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, you do, the mask’s not doin’ you any favors,” Soap retorts as if on autopilot. That’s only their longest-running tiff. You’ve got your work cut out for you to deal with that ugly mug, he thinks.

“You want me to help her or what?”

Right. Right. “Sorry.” He examines Ghost’s body language, searching for any hint of dishonesty. “If you so badly want out of the shared bunks, how come you haven’t found someone else yet? Or some other way?”

“You think girls are lining up outside my door proposing marriage? You can’t even find me off duty. Now I ain’t gotta find… some other way,” He says before leaning back against the wall, at ease now that his argument’s been made.

“Fair point.” Fair, but fucking dumb. “I’ll tell her. She’ll say yes, I know she will.” Jesus, does he wish he’d been able to persuade Garrick.

Soap considers exactly how much you should know about your intended before this shit goes down. On the one hand, it might be better for you not to know much, other than that he’s found someone relatively trustworthy and willing. On the other hand… interacting with Lt. Riley is something that should only be done after signing a covenant not to sue.

“Whatever you do, don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough already. And I meant it when I said she’s a good person. Too good for either of us.”

Nobody gets through secondary school untouched. Especially not at that prissy international school you met him at, filled with over-privileged rich kids and army brats scraping the bottom of the barrel. Like the two of you.

When you were fourteen, you picked him up by the scruff of his Scottish neck with a smile on your face, then hit the bastard who hit him first. Thick as thieves ever since.

“And if you can’t find it in you to be nice, just… promise you’ll leave her alone.” At least you’re more than capable of making Ghost’s life a living Hell if he fucks with you. He takes comfort in that and a healthy amount of glee at the possibility of watching that play out. He’s got a front-row seat, after all.

Riley shakes his head. “As long as she ain’t a burden, MacTavish, no need to fuss and cluck.”

For a moment, Soap almost pities him.

“Don’t hurt her. Promise me that, right now,” He stresses. Just in case. At least eliciting this agreement might remind Ghost in the future to stay his hand.

The other man sighs. “I won’t,” He says at last. And Soap can tell he means it.

“Get out. I’ll let her know.”

1K notes · View notes

romanshomeonwattpad · 4 months

Text

Girl in New York | 3

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“ _ _ “ = Y/N

next chapter | masterlist | last chapter

sypnosis — Art can’t stand to see another man’s touch on you, so he covers you with his instead in the backseat of his car.

warnings — choking, messy kissing, filthy words, cheating, angst, miscommunication

word count — 2.5k

Your arms were interlinked with your cousin’s. He was spotting some guys he could potentially make bad decisions with, and you were anxious to see—

“Hi, guys!” A voice screeched.

You and Patrick raise your brows, spinning around to find Art and his girlfriend in hand. Your heart had been racing like you smoked ten cigarettes in one sitting. His eyes instantly met yours, but you tore yours away, settling on the bimbo beside him. “I’m Tiffany. We’ve met before.”

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Hey.”

Art had been burning holes into you, all behind his girlfriend’s back. Pat and him threw their arms around each other as Tiffany eyed you down, the four of you going up the steps.

As soon as you reached the top, deafening club music blared in your ears. Flashes of lights in all directions set off as crowds of half naked people danced amongst one another. The air was thick and your breathing became uneven. Tiffany giggled as if she’d never been in a club before, making you almost roll your eyes. “You dance, Tiffany?”

“I did balet when I was nine.” She admitted, making you raise your brows. Pat laughed before whispering in your ear, “Behave.”

You chuckled, raising a brow at her. “Let’s go dance. Leave these losers to do what they want.”

“Ouch,” Pat once again threw his arm around Art’s shoulder. His blonde curls weren’t styled, falling over his eyes. It made him look more charming. You hated the affect he had on you. You realized he still hadn’t said anything to you, but only looked at you with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression.

Tiffany sent you a weirded out look, “I’m good. I don’t think provocative dancing is appropriate in front of other men when I have one.”

You blinked at her, sending a look to Pat before nodding. “You’re so right. Good thing I don’t have one,” you pulled off your green sweater, revealing a black lace crop top. It showed off your waist, feeling eyes from all sides burn into you. “—now if you’ll excuse me.”

Making your way to the dance floor, you grabbed your hair and shook your hips to the music. Arching your back, to make your waist look thinner, your figure began to tune with the music like an instrument. Those five shots of vodka you took on the way to the club were hitting you right about now.

Dopamine soared through your blood. You had been so stressed this week with school work and contemplating how you felt about Art.

Your eyes fluttered shut, goosebumps littering your skin.

A pair of hands slither around your waist. It causes you to jolt, bursting them open again before pushing them off. “C’mon beautiful. I don’t bite,” a middle aged man said in a faux sweet tone. Sickenly sweet. You internally cringed as he reached for you again, the wrinkles in his face deepening as you struggle against him.

He grabs your wrists, “Come over here.”

His tone was authoritative and sharp. You resisted, grunting out, and felt someone shove his figure off yours. Art delivered a kick to the dude’s abdomen before grabbing his collar and punching him right in the jaw. His blonde strands were frazzled and messy. He ground out his jaw as the man’s face scrunched.

“Fuck off, creep.”

Taking in deep breaths, your eyes caught the blood on his knuckles. Tiffany screamed and hugged Patrick, whose face twisted together at the action. Art wiped his nose before storming off out the club, his girlfriend following him out and calling his name.

Your lips shook for a moment—and then you went after him.

By the time you reached the bottom of the steps, it was only Art. His back was leaning against the wall, cigarette hanging off his lips, his white button up now half unbuttoned. His half lidded eyes set on you as you plucked one of your own between your lips.

“Got a light?”

He didn’t respond, nor make a sound, digging into his jeans and pulling out a red one. But his eyes didn’t part from yours. They became smoky as he lit your cig. The orange slowly burnt the tobacco as it burned the back of your throat.

The cold wind contrasted against the heat of the cig. “Thanks.”

It was a beautiful night. So beautiful—for the moment, you forgot about getting groped. Everything shined in your slightly drunken mind. Cara quickly passed by as randoms walked past the both of you on the sidewalk. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you didn’t notice the icy pair of eyes staring at you.

You wondered why he saved you. It was clear before that he didn’t care, but now—you were confused.

“I waited two hours for you on Thursday.”

You knit your brows at his sudden words, meeting his gaze. He was already staring at you.

“What?”

The tip of his nose was pink from the cold, eyes squinting into a glare. “You didn’t show up for our lesson. I waited two hours for you, but when you didn’t show—I left.”

Confusion swirled in your brain.

“I thought your girlfriend told you?”

He frowned, hitting his cigarette. “Told me that you were going to ditch me?”

You rolled your eyes. Jesus—this guy was a smart ass. “No. She told me she would let you know that my dad won’t allow me to come on Wednesdays. I have school on those days,” his brows knit even deeper, blinking quickly at your information.

You flicked the end of the cig, watching ash fall to the ground. “You then texted me that you couldn’t make another time for our lessons and wished me well in life.”

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does. Don’t act like you feel bad now. I always knew you were going to drop me eventually,” you mutter, taking a final hit. You let it fall from your fingertips, stepping on it with your heel, and shrugged your shoulders. “We should’ve stopped them anyways. But I must say, you were very harsh—“

“_ _, I don’t know what messages you’re talking about.”

Your eyes trailed off the ground and back onto his. “Besides….I wanted to apologize about what I said last time. Y’know—about us not being friends.”

Your breath hitched, pulling out another cigarette. “Another one?” He questioned, but lit it regardless for you. You hummed.

The cigarette wouldn’t light. “Shit,” you curse beneath your breath, backing into an alleyway with him. There was less wind back here. A spark finally emitted from the gas. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

He looked around the alley, scratching the back of his neck. “She left. Said this place was too sketchy for her,” he muttered, putting out his cigarette as well. “She was pretty mad that I punched that dude. She like—hates violence.”

“I see.”

Drips sounded from random places. Footsteps from around the corner were heard nearby.

You leaned against the wall, not wearing a coat, so your hard nipples began to poke through your thin shirt. Puffing out your chest a bit, earning some confidence with the alcohol, you decide it’s time to prove his girl a lesson. His eyes landed on your breasts, bottom lip instantly getting caught between his teeth.

His hair was slightly damp the moisture in the club. His hooded eyes filled with desire. It was a bit breathtaking how good he looked. It began to ache how turned on you were. You wanted to tug on those strands so badly.

“Art,” you spoke softly, looking over at him. As usual, his eyes were already trained on yours. Standing on your feet, you stood before him, face inches apart from his. You could smell his faint cologne and the scent of mint on his lips. “I like spending time with you. Is that weird?”

His jaw clenched. “Back up, _ _.”

Voice calm and tone, you decided to push his buttons a little. You always teased him. But he sounded particularly stern.

A smirk pulled onto your glossed lips, “Make me.”

“I said back up,” he sneered, growing close to you. You tripped and fell on the floor. You gasped as your palms land on the ground, looking up at him with rounded eyes. His hair covered his eyes like a madman, something flipping in them, and then he was on the ground with you. Dropping to his knees, grabbing your face, and smashing your lips onto his. Like you were his only source of food and he was a starved predator.

It was like craving a sweet your mother wouldn’t let you have. The taste melting on your tongue was unforgettable. In this case, it was his lips. Soft and plush, moving against yours in a rhythm that was addicting. His hands scrambled to cup your breasts, leading you to push your chest against them. His hands grabbed your waist, pulled you off the ground, and slammed you against the brick wall.

His long, skilled fingers tore your top down in half. Your eyes widened, “My sh—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, grabbing your jaw and kissing you once again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, fingers desperately running through his hair as his large hands tightened their grip on your flesh. He was so rough with you—aggressively reaching back up to your tits, beneath the fabric of your top, and squeezing your entire breast with his one palm.

It felt like a pleasurable, warm electric current shocked you in your core every time he stroked the sensitive flesh. The situation was so morally wrong, and people would most likely call you two horrible people, but you didn’t care. You had a craving…

…and you needed to satiate it.

“I can’t fucking concentrate with you that close to me—“ he grunted against your lips, his hands grabbing your bare tits and grinding his hips against yours. His jeans deliciously rubbed against your pussy, which was covered in a thin pair of panties. It was a total mess.

“Get the fuck off me,” he sneered, pushing you off him. His lips were slightly swollen, from just a few seconds of kissing. Both of you breathed heavily as you felt something catch in your throat. His eyes narrowed at you, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?”

You blinked, still putting together what just happened. He kissed you. Art kissed you.

“You kissed me. This isn’t my fault.”

“I hate how you make me feel. You’re like a parasite for fucks sake—“

Rolling your eyes, you held together the torn ends of your shit. “I can’t do this shit anymore. Later.”

This dude couldn’t make up his mind. And quite frankly—your patience had struck thin.

Without a second glance, and feeling like you just got cockblocked, your heels clicked as you left the alleyway. It had just so happened to begin raining, much to your luck. Perhaps there was a bus stop or something nearby.

The winter night was unforgivable. You shook in the piercing cold, completely drenched and freezing. No one was out right now. All cars had most likely pulled over due to the storm. Lightning caused you to release a shriek, the purple electricity momentarily sizzling in the cloudy night sky.

After you crossed a few crosswalks, a beige Honda pulls up beside you with hazards. You grew a bit suspicious, but when you spotted it was a familiar blonde, you didn’t know whether to keep walking or flip him off. The window rolls down as Art squints his eyes through the rain, “Get in! You’ll get sick or some shit.”

You rolled your eyes, ignored him, and kept on walking down the concrete. Art groaned before putting honking his horn. Your eyes widened, since this neighborhood was particularly scary, and shushed him. “Stop that. It’s late—!”

“Get in the car,” he repeated, and you sent him a glare. He smile was boyish. “Or I’ll continue to honk.”

Oh fuck you, Art Donaldson.

Silently you got into his car, mentally cursing him out. You slammed the car door shut and instantly got hit with the smell of clean leather. You didn’t know they made Hondas with leather. Huh.

There was a keychain of a tennis racket that hung from his mirror. It jingled as he put the car in drive and shutting off his hazards. You swallowed thickly, his arm bulging as he steered the wheel with a locked jaw. “Where are we—“

“Shut up.”

Your eyes bulged. Heat blossomed in your cheeks as anger boiled within your blood. “Excuse me,” you say up in your seat, but the side of your head hit the window as he made a sharp turn on purpose. A brief pain ached your temple, and you shot him a glare. “Stop this fucking car, Art. I’m not playing with you right now.”

“I’m already here,” the car parked randomly, causing the car to break erratically. His eyes flew to yours as his hands shifted the gear into park. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, _ _. It’s exhausting.”

You swallow deeply. “I have to go.”

“You should…but now you’re in here with me,” his tone was low. Your eyes stared at the windshield, making out silhouettes of trees in the distance. Raindrops rolled down the thick glass as it pattered against the car. “It’s impossible to be a gentleman around you, _ _.”

His words sunk into you. Your mouth went dry, noticing how vulnerable and longing he looked. His hair was damp from the rain, sticking to the skin of his forehead—baby blue eyes hooded and high on lust. They flickered to your lips, “Your taste is addicting. And I need more….”

You leapt off your seat this time to grab his face and connect your lips once again. He inhaled sharply, hands landing on your hips. You crawled into his lap, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A moan escaped you, vibrating against him, causing him to then suck on the same area.

Everywhere was steaming hot.

He desperately took off the remaining bit of your shirt you were still holding together. Your tits were revealed to him, and his lips desperately began to suck on one. Tongue swirling around the bud made your eyes squeeze shut, grinding your soaked pussy against his knee. His breath hitched as you begin to palm him through the fabric of his pants, his lips moving to press kisses against your neck.

“Fucking dreamed about this,” he groaned, watching you cry out as his teeth pierce the flesh of your nipple. Something flashed in his eyes at the sound—grabbing your throat with his hand and looking you dead in the eyes.

“Get in the fucking backseat now.”

#smut #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #donaldson #tashi donaldson #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig challengers #challengers smut #challengers fic #patrick zweig smut #mike faist fic #mike faist fanfic #mike faist smut #mike faist

116 notes · View notes

blvel4goon · 9 months

Text

Peter Parker x Top male reader

This is my first ever work so please..forgive me if its bad!!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: NSFW,minors and f!readers dni!

TW: blowjobs,jerking off?? And its really short,Idk what the fuck

In the heart of New York City, the cold air enveloped New York city as Peter made his way through the familiar streets where he played as a child with his best friend M/N who he had a crush on..and a strong desire to fuck him...The weight of his textbooks in his backpack only reminded him of the study session that he agreed on.

Navigating the dimly lit stairwell of M/N's apartment building, Peter approched his best friend's door with a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy...he didn't want anything to go wrong..and he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself infront of M/N. The thruth is that he had a crush on his friend for a really long time,but was too scared to talk about it with him.As he reached the final steps,the worn sole of his shoe caught on and uneven edge,causig him to trip and fall a couple of steps down. The door swung open, reaveling M/N who got scared of the loud noise and decided to check what was that about..

"Gosh..you scared me Parker,you good?" M/N helped him get up of the stairs and help him into his apartment.

"Yeah,yeah, just a little..stumble on the stair. No big deal"

Peter,sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled awkwardly.

"Spider-Man stumbling on stairs? That's a headline i never thought i'd see."..Peter's face got ever reder if thats even possible.

,,W-well,all superheroes have their c-clumsy moments..right?''

M/N,still laughing: "Totally.Come on in, Spidey. Wathc out for the floor or you might trip over nothing again" Parker,with a shy smmile: "Noted..i'll try to stick to swinging from buildings next time"

After a focused study session where peter couldn't concentrate,only thinking about his friend and how badly he wanted him in this moment. M/N closed the textbook with a decisive thud. He suggested to go to his room with a warm smile that Peter could melt from. M/N lead Parker away from the living room towards the sanctuary of his room.

As they continued chatting about everything and nothing, Peter found himself stealing glances at M/N when he thought the other wasn't looking. He marveled at the curve of his friend's smile and thr way his muscles flexed everytime he moved, he felt himself getting more and more turn on by his best friend. M/N,raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk:"Hey,dude, you've been staring at me a lot tonight. What's going on? You nervous or something?"

Peter stammering as always: "N-nervous? No,no,not at all. Just lost in the thoughts. Thinking about you know..s-scoence stuff?"

M/N moved closer teasingly: "Science stuff,huh? You sure it's not more like..Me stuff?" Peter tried to help himself from this embarrassing situation: "W-what? No! I mean..yes! Youre my b-best friend,but its just..nothing don't worry!" He could feel his face getting reder and a bulge forming in his pjama pants but quickly covered himself with a blanket.

"Okay, seriously Pete! You can tell me anything" M/N grabbed him by his thighs..sending a shiver up to his aching member.

Peter tried not to make any sounds, trying not to alarm his best friend of anything. "A-alright,fine..it's just..i've been thinking about you a lot lately..about us..h-how close we are,and maybe it's just me overthinking,b-but.."

"but what?" M/N smirked, hearing his best friend like that really turned him on,all frustered and whimpery. He got closer to Peter..he sat between peters legs..slightly spreeding them apart as he saw the bulge in Parkers pants.

Peter's eyes widen open,he felt the touch of M/N's hands on his toned body..traveling up to the waistband of his pants:"w-what..are you d-"

His sentence was cut short by his own moan as M/N took his cock into his hand..long and slow strokes followed by Peters whimpers and heavy breathing.

"I like you too Parker,and i can see..that you like me too" M/N looked down at his bestfriend's cock..throbbing in the palm of his hand as he teased the head. Peter could only moan and gasp for air as M/N toyed with his sensitive member.

"i c-can't..please M/N.." His bestfriend only smirked..his lips met Peters in a hungry and passionate kiss. "You like it spidey?When i play with it like that?" M/N teased, kissing Peter's neck while stroking his cock faster.

"f-fuck..yes,yes i love it please-" Parker started moving his hips, trying to get more friction.

M/N suddenly went down on Peter..licking the slit with his tongue before taking his cock down his throat..it made him gag a little but he wanted to listen to these moans.

"a-AAH-..M/N..fuck!" Parker moaned loudly..his legs shaking as his bestfriend bobbed his head up and down on his member..his fingers found their way into M/N's hair..gripping them softly. M/N's skilled tongue teased Peters shaft..making him moan ever more,he could feel his orgams building up as he thrusted his hips into M/N's throat.

"f-fuck- ahh..im g-gonna cuuum!" Peter's body shuddered as he felt M/N's moans aroud this cock. He pulled Peter's member out of his mouth..and started stroking it again.."f-fuck! Pete,you made me tear up..i like it" He smirked as he teased Pete's dick some more before he came on M/N's face..legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head. "Ahh- O-h my god..t-too much!" Parker cried out as his swollen cock twitched in M/N's hand..

"Good job Peter..but were not done yet..."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #andrew garfield x male reader #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker smut #spiderman smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield smut #the amazing spider man #marvel #marvel x male reader

395 notes · View notes

i-fucking-hate-ppl · 8 months

Note

Sup mah dude! I've just finished binge reading your HH hcs and I freaking love them! ✨ If you're still taking requests, may I get how getting married with our demon boi Alastor would be like? From what lead him to deciding he was gonna marry our reader, how he proposes, what's the marriage gonna be like, etc., etc. And if you can, maybe include how our other main characters would react? Thank you for blessing us ❤️✌️

Wassup! I hope you enjoy this fluffy bundle of fluff!

Alastor decided he was going to marry you the moment he came to term with his feelings. He hasn't even thought about courting anyone since, well he was alive! Even then it was mostly to please his dear mother!

He can't recall a time he's ever felt this way about anyone before, and if he was ever going to marry someone he knew it'd be you.

Of course he's a gentlemen though, he won't start with that. No no no, it simply won't do.

He'll test it out first. Make sure you two are actually compatible. It'll be a few years before he starts asking subtle hints about what you like it rings, like certain cuts or perhaps gold vs silver, ring size.

To be safe you don't know, he'll buy you a ring for you birthday to throw you off.

And once he's done browsing and has found the most perfect, stunning ring he'll propose.

He'll make sure it's your anniversary to once again throw you off, and take you out to the best restaurant. He'll make sure to plan quite a few activities, and at the end he'll take you for a walk. Of somewhere private and most importantly quiet with the most beautiful view you could possibly find in hell.

He'll find the perfect opportunity to step back, while you're distracted by the site seeing to kneel and just wait patiently for you to turn around.

And the moment you say yes he's up and slipping that ring on your finger with a peck to your forehead.

Charlie was flabbergasted. She didn't think Alastor would ever, in a million years, propose and get married. Although that didn't stop her excitement. She's quick to congratulate you two and squeeze you both in a big old hug!

Vaggie really couldn't care less, she was shocked but just doesn't care as much. Giving a smile congratulations and a smile. She does wonder if you have magical, voodoo love spells or something though..

Angel Dust most certainly said something inappropriate and is now trying to fight off a pissy Alastor during all the congrats.

Sir Pentious is just "Really? That's who you want to marry? For the rest of your life that's who you want to be stuck with? I'm not judging.. but I'll be praying for you dear!"

Husk gives no fucks, he tried warning you and you ignored him. It'll be your own bad decision he already made his. No congrats either.

Nifty is jittery and beyond excited. Talking and asking questions a mile per minute. Climbing all over you while she does. She also can't believe Alastor will be married, what is your secret to a bad boy's heart! Tell. Her.

The wedding is most certainly in cannibal town, it's the place close to Alastor's heart. It reminds him so much of his era in life, honestly can't imagine the wedding taking place anywhere else.

He would prefer if the wedding was more traditional, such as you wearing a white dress/tux. But if you would prefer a dress/tux of a different color he will be willing to bend since he wants you to be just as happy as he will be.

He'll also want it to be very, very small. Just a few people.

He will try to do most of the work so you don't have to worry about anything.

Rosie will most certainly be the wedding officiant, she got certified just for him! She didn't expect an Ace in the hole such as Alastor to ever get married and is beyond excited to do this for him!

Zestial is his best man, and the rest of his best "men" are Husk (who was most certainly forced to be there) and Nifty.

He didn't care who you chose as your best, as long as it wasn't Lucifer.

He'll most certainly go for a red and black theme and hope you agree.

The flowers would be deep red roses with black lilies, with a small touch of pink roses just to brighten it a bit.

Cake would most certainly be yellow, with black frosting and deep red frosting roses on it, decorated beautifully.

He'd pretty much make sure the whole wedding was perfect and beautiful. Just for you.

Zestial will be walking you down if your Father isn't in hell. He doesn't want you to walk alone down the aisle!

His vows would be

"You know dear, you are very special to me. There isn't a single soul in heaven or hell that could possibly make me feel the way I do for you. You're one in a million! A random, wild chance that I will never take for granted! The first and only one that could ever warm my heart! I promise that I will always take care of you and protect you until the very end! A promise that will never be broken, forever and always my darling."

He'll make sure no one can see the sealing kiss, but he most certainly seals that shit. You are his now, always.

Zestial will also act as your father for the first dance and give you away to Alastor after as well, if your Father isn't present. Just to keep things traditional and make you happy.

Of course the music is played from a radio and of course it's mostly Jazz.

After it's all said and done and you're home, Alastor might feel the very rare want to have sex. But if not he'll hold you close and read to you from one of your favorite books without his radio static. He'll have tea and snacks on the side table for you to enjoy as you listen to him speak. If you doze off he'll change you into some pajamas and lay down you down in bed before getting ready and laying with you and holding you close.

Then it will be your turn to plan the honeymoon, he will let you have free reign to decided where you'd like to go and what you would like to do and only give input if you ask for it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fluff #alastor x reader

269 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 2 years

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Strangers in the Night

Plot: Joel and Y/n try their hardest to ignore and avoid their past while waiting on the cover of night to leave the QZ.

Warnings: M for violence, gore, language, allusions to sex, alcohol, unwanted advances (16+)

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Okay, let me just say, did not expect such a big reaction to this little 2.2k fic I thought up randomly. You guys wanted a series, so here’s a series. It’ll be 16+ from here so please specify your age in your bio if you’d like to be tagged. I’m really excited to write this one, hope y’all enjoy it! It's gonna be a wild frickin' ride...

——————————

May 9th, 2002, Austin Texas

It was unseasonably warm for spring in Austin. Summer was making an early entrance and driving everyone indoors. The bars were packed each night, but especially on the weekends. Something about the heat always inspired people to drink more.

The Miller brothers were seated at a table in the far corner of Dane’s, each nursing a Budweiser. Despite it being a Saturday, they’d worked overtime on a garage apartment conversion. It was in Joel’s neighborhood and he needed the money. Jobs hadn’t been ripe for picking lately, in going the extra mile with the clients he did have, he could bank on a few referrals.

“We’re runnin’ short on the 2x4s,” Joel told his brother, “And it wouldn’t hurt to-“

“Dude,” Tommy made a slicing motion with his hand, “You’re off the clock. Switch off for a while.”

“I’m just trying to get ahead,” Joel replied.

Tommy smiled, lounging in his chair, “Look, you’ve got two modes: work mode and dad mode. And guess what? You never come out of either. It’s a Friday night, you’ve got a sitter, why not just try being a single, not-offensively unattractive, guy?”

Joel’s eyebrows were permanently furrowed, especially around conversations like this. Tommy meant well, but he’d been trying to get Joel to find something outside of work and his daughter for years. It wasn’t happening.

“So you’re sayin’ I should focus less on keeping a roof over my daughter’s head and makin’ sure she’s happy?” Joel asked, leaning back in his chair, “I get that right?”

Tommy chuckled and shook his head, “I’m just saying…you’re gettin’ more and more like an old man the longer you’re by yourself. Wouldn’t hurt to find someone that makes you happy.”

It was easy to ignore Tommy’s ramblings, but Joel couldn’t deny there was some truth to what he was saying. After Sarah’s mom up and left them, he kept his heart guarded from the world. Sarah and Tommy were the only ones he had the space to love. No, not the space. He had all the capacity in the world to hold someone else close to his soul, he was just too afraid of getting hurt again.

A few feet away at the bar, Y/n twirled her wine glass in her hand. Navigating a new city and a new job was taking it out of her. There had been no catalyst in her decision to move to Austin. She wasn’t running from a bad relationship nor did she need space from her family, she’d just wanted a change. So far, aside from the random heat wave, she was enjoying herself. The people were friendly, the neighborhood was quiet…she could see herself eventually calling the place home.

As she enjoyed her own company, a muscly man approached the seat next to her. He didn’t even do her the courtesy of asking if it was taken.

He flashed a pearly smile at Y/n, “Havin’ a good night?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, not looking up from her glass.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” the man continued, “You new to town?”

Y/n politely smiled, wishing he’d taken the hint. “Sure.”

“Findin’ your way around alright,” he put his elbows on the bar, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere, “Or are you thinkin’ you need a tour guide? Someone to show you around? Help make you feel a little more comfortable?”

Y/n was fighting the urge not to laugh, she’d seen dogs in heat more subtle than this guy. “I’m doing fine on my own, thanks,” she replied, her will to smile fading with each second he stayed.

“I don’t know,” the guy dragged his fingers up and down the condensation on his beer bottle, “You seem a little lost to me, darlin’. I got a hog outside, we could head out…night scene’s pretty wild here.”

Y/n took another sip of her wine, “Not really a wild kind of gal.”

The man’s lingering stare was beginning to make Y/n’s skin crawl. It was like he was staring straight through her clothes. He leaned in to her, his arm grazing hers, as if the close proximity was imperative to what he was about to say.

“I got this theory that inside every woman,” he lowered his voice, “There’s a wild girl just waitin’ to come out. She just needs the right cowboy,” he paused, a smile spreading across his lips, “To let her loose.”

Concealing her annoyance, Y/n looked down at her glass bashfully. She peeked back up out of her eyelashes, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answered.

“Jacob,” she repeated sweetly, leaning in closer to him, “Going around trying to prove how big your dick is ain’t gonna make any woman want to touch it.”

Jacob pulled back a little, shocked at both the comment and how easily being foul mouthed came to this woman. Y/n scrunched her nose and gave a sugary smile before moving to get up from her stool.

Jacob grabbed her shoulder, not prepared to lose the battle. “Hang on there, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me,” Y/n was quick to say.

“I don’t think you quite understand what I’m offerin’ you here…”

“Let,” Y/n gritted her teeth, raising her voice slightly, “Go of me.”

Jacob began to close the space between their faces, “What’re you gonna do if I ain’t ready to say goodbye to ya yet?”

“Hey.”

Y/n turned to the two men who had approached while she was fending Jacob off. The one with the mustache swung his fist and landed a shiner on Jacob’s nose. The whole bar gasped as he stumbled backwards, clutching his now bleeding face. The mystery man placed an arm in front of Y/n, making himself the barrier between Jacob’s advances and her safety.

Once Jacob caught his footing, revealing just how tipsy he was, he clumsily stalked back towards them. The second man stepped forward and effortlessly threw a punch to Jacob’s abdomen, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. The other patrons actually clapped and cheered at the knockout.

The man shielding Y/n and his friend grabbed Jacob’s arms and pulled him to his knees. Dane, the owner, came out from around the counter and marched towards the door. The men dragged Jacob through the bar, taking no care to his hands and feet as they knocked into chairs and tables. With Dane holding the door open, they threw him out, earning another round of cheers from the bar.

Y/n watched it all with a hand over her mouth. The whole thing had left her more anxious than she cared to admit.

Her two saviors made their way through the room, earning pats on the back from most of the patrons.

“Are you okay?” The man with the mustache asked when they reached her.

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, trying to hide how her hands was shaking, “Are you?”

“Not the worst we’ve seen,” the clean shaven guy smiled, flexing his bruised hand, “But I think you’re gonna have to take a shower to get that creep’s touch off ya.”

Y/n chortled, the feeling of his fingers digging into her skin hadn’t left yet. “I’m really sorry you had to step in,” she said earnestly, “I’m not great with following through on my smack talk.”

“Nah, you were holding your own,” the cheerier of the two men laughed.

“Hey, can I buy you guys a round?” Y/n asked, “It’s the least I can do.”

“There’s no need,” the quieter guy shook his head.

“No, I want to,” Y/n insisted, looking between the two of them.

The one who had done most of the talking so far was the first to relent. “Fine, but we’re spotting your next glass. Just to try and restore the ever-deteriorating reputation of men.”

Y/n laughed heartily for the first time of the night. She liked them.

“Hey, Dane,” the talkative man flagged down the bartender and turned to Y/n, “What’re you drinking?”

Y/n held up her dwindling glass of rosé.

“Another rosé for the rosebud,” the man finished, winking at Y/n in a way that felt more playful than flirtatious, “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Y/n,” she took his extended hand and shook it before turning to the other man.

“Joel,” he pressed his palm to hers.

Y/n smiled, her eyes lingering on the man as they shook hands. There was a peace to him that she already knew she liked.

Y/n ended up at Tommy and Joel’s table, each of them sipping a victory drink and talking up a storm. It was one of the easiest conversations any of them had ever had.

“So you just picked up one day and,” Tommy made a swooping gesture, “Came to Austin?”

Y/n shrugged, “Just needed a change.”

Tommy whistled, “That’s brave.”

“I mean, it’s Austin,” Y/n chuckled, “It’s not New York,” she took a sip of the free rosé, “What about you two?”

“Nah, we’ve been here forever,” Joel answered, holding his beer to his lips.

Tommy raised his bottle to his brother, “Can’t even get this fucker to take a vacation somewhere.”

“Workaholic or homebody?” Y/n asked.

Joel was inhaling to answer when Tommy spoke up, “Both.”

“Nothin’ wrong with working hard or staying home,” Joel replied, throwing back a swig.

“Nah,” Tommy replied, smirking, “Only when you do it.”

Joel glared out the sides of his eyes at his brother. Y/n laughed against the rim of her glass.

“Well,” Tommy leaned against the table, “If you ever need a tour guide, we’re at your disposal. We’ll show you the real grimy hole in the wall places. Best food or beer in the city are always in the places you’d least expect it.”

Contrary to Jacob’s thinly veiled advances, Y/n took Tommy and Joel for exactly how they presented themselves. They were funny, they were gentlemanly, and they were the first people in Austin she’d met who she felt truly comfortable around.

Joel, who was naturally more quiet than his brother, had never felt more lost for words. He was trying to keep himself in check considering the happenstance of their meeting, but all he wanted to do was look at Y/n. When she laughed, something inside his stomach twisted. When their eyes met, his chest tightened. There was something about being around this girl that felt very, very different than anyone else.

“Well,” Y/n checked her watch, catching the late hour, “I’ve got the morning shift tomorrow and I can’t be too hungover. Thank you both for the company and the wine,” she smiled at Joel, “It was a big improvement on how the night started.”

“Yeah, we’d better go too,” Joel announced, rising to his feet with Tommy, “Gotta get a head start tomorrow before the storm moves in.”

Tommy gestured to his big brother, smiling at Y/n, “What’d I tell you?”

“I gotta side with your brother here,” Y/n smiled, scrunching her face a little, “Everyone needs a break. That’s kinda what weekends are for”

“See?” Tommy said, “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Joel was on the verge of busting out in to a grin. “Not my problem if you two are lazy,” he shot back.

Y/n and Tommy each gaped with laughter. Joel smiled, he’d wanted to hear her laugh one more time before they parted.

“Well, you two have restored the name of ‘men’ quite admirably,” Y/n grabbed her purse, “Thank you for what you did, really. If you hadn’t stepped in, tonight would have ended much worse.”

Tommy shook his head, “Don’t mention it. Just learn how to throw a punch,” he slapped his hand against Joel’s shoulder, “And I think we’ll both sleep better at night.”

“I’ll get on that,” Y/n chuckled. She wasn’t sure if it was the kinship she felt or the rosé had simply relaxed her, but she reached over to Tommy and gave him a one-armed hug.

“See ya around, Rosebud,” Tommy said, keeping his hand respectfully high up on her shoulders.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, pulling back to look at Joel. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, only that she wanted to memorize his face before she left. “Goodnight,” she said with a small smile.

Joel tried to ignore how his heart was thudding in his chest. “‘Night,” he replied.

His eyes followed her all the way to the door, till she stepped out into the steamy evening air. He wasn’t sure why he had to urge to follow her.

“You,” Tommy gripped Joel’s shoulder a little tighter, “Are fucked.”

Joel rolled his eyes at his little brother’s laughter, “The hell’re you talking about?”

Tommy fell back down in his chair, a hand resting on his chest, “You were fuckin’ smitten with her.”

“‘Smitten?’” Joel cringed, taking his seat and his beer, “What’re you, 14?”

“Fine, hot for, taken with, enamored, mesmerized,” Tommy chuckled, “Whatever you wanna call it…you liked her.”

Joel shrugged and took another drink, “‘Course I liked her. You liked her too.”

“Not like you,” Tommy shook his head, still grinning, “I think she liked you too.”

Pushing down the way his stomach jumped when Tommy said that, he glanced over at the door again. He looked back to the table, checking to see if she’d left anything. Maybe she’d have to come back. What would he do if she did? Would he ask for her number? Or was that too forward? He didn’t want anything he did to remind her at all of the asshat they’d tossed out-

“She didn’t leave anything, dude.”

Tommy’s voice brought Joel out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at Y/n’s empty seat. There was no reason for her to come back.

“You’re fucked,” Tommy brought the conversation full circle, patting his brother’s shoulder and taking a drink.

Joel hid his disappointment, just like his infatuation; well, but not well enough. He looked down at his bottle, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not gonna see her again.”

Tommy shrugged, “Austin ain’t that big.”

Outside, Y/n was making the three minute walk down the street to her apartment complex. Her mind was no longer focused on the douche whose name she was already forgetting, all she could think of was how Joel smiled like he had a secret. How his laughter was reserved only for when he found something hilarious. How whether he was sitting beside his brother or punching out a handsy creep, he was completely relaxed. How his brown eyes were so warm, one gaze into them had given her goosebumps…

Y/n shook her head at herself, completely thrown for a loop. One encounter with one guy and she felt like there was some invisible string tugging harder with every inch of distance she put between herself and the bar. The chances of bumping into Tommy and Joel again in a city as big as Austin were slim. It was a reality she had to face. It was just one of those meetings that left you feeing like you’d experienced true magic. She was saddened at the thought of never sitting across from Joel again.

Into the night, with a total distance of seven minutes unbeknownst between them, Joel and Y/n each retired and prepared for their respective early mornings. Joel paid the neighbor who’d watched Sarah, Y/n called and checked in on her sister, who’d just had a baby. Joel kissed his daughter goodnight, Y/n finished up a load of laundry. They each changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and turned out the lights. It was then, in the sweet space between sleep and consciousness that they let their minds drift back to each other….

—————————

2023, Boston

Of course it was raining. Rain made everything easier.

Joel, Tess, Y/n and Ellie trudged through the streets of what was once downtown Boston. Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s back at all times, untrusting of both the people around them and the ones they were traveling with.

Even with the utter chaos they were in the middle of, Y/n’s mind was overtaken by the holes being burned into the back of her head. Joel’s stare was unfaltering. She wanted to turn around and scream at him, but that would garner the attention they were trying so hard not to attract. That was fine, she had more than enough anger and more than enough time to let him feel it.

Joel, whose every move was made with vigilante like precision, was struggling to keep his thoughts in order. The past was so easy to put behind you when you never had to look at it. Faced with the person who knew it all, had seen it all…the second he’d laid eyes on Y/n, it had all come flooding back. He had to get himself in check. Y/n’s unfiltered hatred was helping him there.

They made it to Joel and Tess’ apartment without any trouble, the four of them filing down the narrow hallway. Y/n pulled as far away from Joel as possible while they waited for Tess to unlock the door, which wasn’t very far. Once it was open, Joel impatiently waved for Ellie to enter, saving the same glare for Y/n. Ellie entered apprehensively, while Y/n knew enough to know that they were Joel and Tess’ leverage. Without them, they couldn’t get their battery. They were safe, for the time being.

“Give us a minute, all right?” Tess stated more than asked, heading back out to the hall.

“What the fu-“ Ellie started, the door silenced the last two letters.

Y/n put a finger to her lips, standing beside the door and listening to the other side of the door. Tess and Joel were discussing which route to take, something that infuriated her. There was only one child in their party, she refused to let Joel make her anything other than an equal.

She threw down her backpack and threw the door open. “If you two are planing on excluding me from the planning side of things, let me know now so I can strangle you both,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“You wanna tell us what we’re really doing with this kid?” Tess fired back.

“Not particularly,” Yn replied.

“Then you don’t get a voice here,” Tess looked to Joel, “We leave after dark. Stay with them.”

Joel took a step forward as his partner walked off, “Wait, why do I have to — Tess! Tess!”

Tess turned the corner of the hall without ever breaking stride.

Joel sighed loudly, eventually looking over to Y/n.

“She’s lovely,” Y/n snarked, earning a signature Miller scowl.

Joel nodded towards the door and Y/n slipped back inside, he kept an overly safe distance between them. Y/n unzipped her backpack and grabbed her first aid kit, sitting down at Joel’s table to tend to her bullet wound. Joel shrugged off his pack and threw himself on the couch. Ellie was splitting the distance between them, holding a large book in her hands.

“So,” the girl started, “Who’s Bill and Frank?”

Joel looked up confused, as if he couldn’t imagine how she could have possibly heard anything from the other side of the door.

“Oh, come on, Tool Time,” Y/n chortled, as she opened the bottle of disinfectant, “This whole place is paper thin.”

“The radio’s a smuggling code, right?” Ellie asked, “60s song, they don’t have anything new. 70s, they got new stuff. What’s 80’s?”

Joel got off the couch and ripped the book out of Ellie’s hands, throwing it to the side. He glanced over at Y/n, who was struggling to keep her grunts quiet as she cleaned her wound. A twinge of pain ran through his chest as she scrunched up her face, trying to keep her breaths steady. His fingers automatically twitched to help her, but it wouldn’t actually help anyone. Instead, he fought his instincts walked back to the couch and laid down.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“Killin’ time,” Joel said, his drawl particularly noticeable.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” his eyes were already closed, just like the conversation.

Y/n began to use a q-tip to spread antiseptic cream over the wound, the cooling sensation dulling the pain.

Ellie took back the book and walked past Joel, “Your watch is broken.”

Four little words froze Y/n, hunched over the table with her supplies. She didn’t have to look to know that Joel’s eyes were open again. It was the second time today that they’d been perfectly in sync. The first was pulling their guns on one another and, to be honest, Y/n would have preferred to stare down the barrel of his pistol. Bullets were simple and easy to dodge, memories were more cunning and hurt significantly more.

Y/n finished dressing her wound, zipping the kit back up and throwing it in her backpack. She laid her jacket out to dry on the back of the chair and finally took a good look at her surroundings. She couldn’t have chosen a place more opposite to Joel’s 3-bed 3-bath in Austin. The floors creaked, the walls were stained, and the ceilings were uncomfortably low. Home was a fluid concept in the world they lived in, and the kind Y/n was thinking of was lost entirely.

“He’s fun,” Ellie grunted from her seat at the window.

Y/n scoffed, “You have no idea.”

If they’d be using the cover of night to travel, Y/n knew Joel had the right idea to sleep now. She pulled out a sweater from her backpack, bunched it up and set it on the ground across from the couch. Without any blankets, she made the call that a nearby rug would be the next best thing. She shook it out and placed it below the sweater.

“Try and get some sleep,” Y/n instructed Ellie, “You’re gonna need it.”

Ellie simply hummed and continued paging through the book. Y/n slipped under the dirty rug and sighed, she’d slept in worse places for much longer…

She took the moment of peace to finally take a good look at Joel. His eyebrows still furrowed as he slept, as if he was in a constant state of disapproval with the world. The rest of his face was softer, a strange contrast, but so very him. His chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. It was hard for Y/n not to remember how it felt to lay with her ear against his heart, lifting and lowering with him…

The QZ was small, and stories got around. Y/n had known for a while that Joel was in Boston. She’d also heard the stories of the things he’d done, the people he’d killed, and just how far he’d go to guarantee his survival. Despite not owing him anything, Y/n had refused to believe them. She adamantly denied the possibility that she could have ever loved a man capable of such hideous acts. The Cordecyps had changed them all in different ways, but she had to believe that Joel was still Joel…

————————————

“Hey.”

A mumble and a boot kick to the shoulder had Y/n startling awake. She rolled over to see Ellie, still sitting by the window with the book in her lap.

“How do you know him?”

Y/n squinted and sat up, her joints cracking as she stretched her limbs. The sky outside was pitch black, clearly she’d needed more sleep than she thought.

“He’s an…” she began to say, the complexity of the situation hitting her all over again. There was only one answer to give that wouldn’t invite any more questions. “I was friends with his brother a long time ago.”

Ellie’s seemed to accept it, “Where’re you from?”

“Texas.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “You lived in Texas?”

“Just for a little while,” Y/n replied, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes,

Ellie looked down at her hands and then out the window, “I’ve never been out that far.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about what it might be like to grow up never having known what the world used to be like. “You’re not missing much, kid,” she lied. She’d have gone back to Austin in a heartbeat, if it was at all possible.

“What’s ‘rosebud?’”

Y/n’s body went cold, as if she’d just been plunged into ice water, memories slamming into her like waves. A glass of rosé and belly laughter, a backyard game of football, soft lips whispering sweet nothings against her ear…

She looked over at Ellie calmly, “What?”

The girl nodded towards Joel, who was still peacefully sleeping. “He kept mumbling the word ‘rosebud,’” she replied, “Thought maybe it was a code word or something.”

It did serve as a codeword, containing secrets, laughter, and all the love that had once existed in Y/n’s world. Now the mere utterance cut her worse than any blade could.

“If it is,” Y/n got to her feet, not wanting to be anywhere near the word, “I don’t know what it means.”

Joel woke then, startling without any real physicality. He stared up at the ceiling, dazed from his dreams. No, nightmares. That’s what they were.

“You mumble in your sleep,” Ellie said, announcing her presence, “Something about ‘rosebud.’”

If that didn’t wake him up, nothing could. His eyes flitted across the room, looking for the woman who owned every inch of the word. When Joel couldn’t find her, he pushed up on one arm and found her sitting at his kitchen table with her back turned to him.

In his subconscious, he’d seen her as she used to be. Her eyes full of light, her smile like pure sunshine, laughter pouring out of her with a freedom so few people allowed themselves. He’d felt her soft skin against his, felt her lips pressed to his jawline, right between his neck and his ear. He’d known her for the first time in twenty years, only to wake up and find her ghost.

Joel swung his legs over the couch and rose, his knees and back aching. Getting older in a post-apocalyptic world felt extra cruel. He ventured over to the table, ready to test the waters and see just how bad of a time he was in for.

Y/n sighed in annoyance as Joel took the chair next to her. She needed distance she wasn’t going to get, from him and all that he reminded her of.

They sat in the most awkward silence either of them had ever known.

Joel was the first to break it, “You get some sleep?”

Y/n glared out the corner of her eyes at him, the first words he spoke to her after their confrontation and that was the first thing he said?

Joel’s chest tightened at her poisoned stare, he wasn’t going to get an answer. “Wound okay?”

“This whole thing’ll go a lot easier if you stop pretending to give a shit about me,” Y/n said quietly, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the volume, “We both know you don’t.”

The walls weren’t coming down. Joel knew that. He didn’t want them down. But after seeing her, full of energy and joy, he had to check and see if there was any bit of that woman left. His eyes scanned her skin, so many scars and scrapes where there had once been a smooth surface. Her hair was dry, streaks of oil laced like highlights through the strands. Her nails were chipped and caked with dirt underneath. But most noticeably, there were two prominent frown lines across her cheeks. That let Joel know that the woman he’d once loved was absolutely gone.

“What happened to Tommy?” Y/n asked. She couldn’t help herself, but she kept her tone frosty.

“Sent a message three weeks back,” Joel answered, his fist fidgeting against the table, “Haven’t heard anything.”

Y/n didn’t want to take any strolls with Joel down memory lane, but Tommy was…Tommy. She couldn’t deny that she still cared about him deeply. “Do you know where he is?”

“Wyoming,” Joel answered, looking past her eyes at the wall. He didn’t think he could handle speaking about his brother to her, of all people.

“Oh,” she said, “So you’re completely crazy now.”

That earned her a hardened gaze, as if Joel had anything else for her.

“I’ve never been on the other side of the Wall,” Ellie spoke up, “Look how dark it is.”

Y/n got up first, smoothing her tank top back down and leaning against the wall near the door. Joel followed, retaking his seat on the couch. They both pondered the same thing separately: how much life Ellie had missed out on just by being born in the wrong decade.

“You guys go out there a lot?” Ellie asked Joel.

“I guess,” he answered.

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year,” Joel quickly replied, he wasn’t enjoying all the questions, “What’s it matter?”

“But you know where to go,” Ellie clarified, looking too much like a kid, “So we’re gonna be okay.”

It was a fair question, and Joel couldn’t fault her for being scared. Fear was all she’d ever known.

“Yeah,” he answered, significantly softer than his last one.

Y/n’s eyes grazed the window, spotting the plastic butterfly that clung to the glass. After all these years, Joel had managed to keep it. It took all the self-discipline she had not to let her tears fall.

“So what’s the deal with you anyway,” Joel asked Ellie, “You some kind of bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?”

Both Ellie and Y/n knowingly smirked to themselves. “Something like that,” Ellie replied, “Oh, the radio came on while you were sleeping.”

“What?” Joel snapped to attention, leaning forward, “What was the song?

“He kept sayin’ like, “wake me up before you go-go?” Ellie answered, making Y/n and Joel feel much much older.

Joel knew what that meant, and it was nothing good. “Shit,” he whispered to himself.

Ellie’s smirk spread across her face, “Gotcha. 80’s means trouble. Code broken.”

Joel got to his feet, having used his patience up earlier in the day. “Listen-“

Y/n was between him and Ellie in a flash, sticking out a hand towards Joel. She was off limits, even for a light scolding. Luckily, the door opened up before anything could be said. Tess had returned.

“The spot under Lancaster looks good,” she reported, turning to Ellie after, “You got a jacket in your pack?”

“Yeah,” Ellie responded.

“Okay, get it. It’s time to go.”

Y/n stuffed her sweater back in backpack and went to retrieve her now-dry jacket. It had been a long time since she’d gone outside of the QZ, she couldn’t decide whether she was terrified or happy to step outside the fence.

Joel on the other hand felt like he couldn’t move. Between the fear over his brother’s safety, being close to Y/n once again and the daunting task ahead of them, he wanted to pause it all for a moment. Tess throwing his jacket at him was a good reminder that he didn’t get to take minutes.

As Y/n went to the window to check Ellie, her eye caught the butterfly in the window again. Much like ‘Rosebud,’ there was another name that she never said. She could practically see it weaved into the fine details of the creature, the bright blue against the dark black. When Joel’s back was turned. Y/n pulled the cling off the window and shoved it in her backpack. If they were going to do this, she needed to feel strong enough to do it. She’d give it back to Joel and face his wrath when the deed was done.

The four of them made it out and into the underground tunnels, landing in a lesser frequented area of the QZ. Joel climbed out first and scanned their surroundings, helping to pull Ellie out after. Y/n came through next, though Joel knew better than the extend his hand to her, and finally, Tess.

“Holy shit,” Ellie remarked, spinning around to take it all in, “I’m actually outside.”

Not half a second later, a helicopter made its round over them, searchlights shining off it. Tess pulled Ellie in and crouched behind a large piece of debris.

“Okay, we’re gonna take the left edge around the buffer zone,” Tess explained, “You stay close and you follow my lead.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ellie nodded in understanding, glancing over to Y/n as if to get approval. Y/n nodded back, placing momentary trust that Tess would protect the girl.

“Same goes for you,” Joel said from beside her, his voice low.

Y/n glared over her shoulder, “I really don’t think you want me where you can’t see me.”

“Let’s go,” Tess ordered.

The four of them crawled under an abandoned school bus with Joel bringing up the rear. Walking while crouched was hard, but they managed their best and paused behind a car when a FEDRA patrol vehicle passed by. Once it was clear, they made their way through a rusted, metal pipe, stopping when the chopper passed over them again. Y/n caught a peek at Ellie’s face as the light shone on them, she looked terrified. Through her own nerves, Y/n reached over and took Ellie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Joel watched the whole thing, if he wanted a glimpse of the woman he’d once known, he’d gotten it. Her heart was still there.

Their team hurried out of the pipe, rushing to hide behind another big piece of debris. A storm was starting, the lightning acting as temporary lighting for their path. Joel was leading the way when their presence was detected.

“Hey,” a FEDRA soldier shouted, “Hey! Don’t, don’t, don’t move.”

Joel hurriedly looked around for more, pushing Ellie behind him. He held his hands up in surrender, along with Y/n, Ellie and Tess. If they wanted to get out of this, they needed to play along.

The FEDRA soldier opened the visor of his helmet, getting a look at Joel. “You gotta be shittin’ me…”

“Okay, let’s talk this out,” Joel said calmly.

“Turn around,” the soldier ignored him.

“Hold on-“

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” the soldier yelled, “Get on your fuckin’ knees!”

Joel wasn’t giving up, “Now, hold on-“

“What did I fuckin’ tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home,” he pointed to the ground, “Get on your knees!”

Y/n knew if he fought any harder, he was going to get them all killed. Taking matters into her own hands, she dropped. “Ellie,” she said calmly, “Get down.”

“Just get on your knees,” Tess said to Joel, “Just get on your knees.”

Joel listened and kneeled between Ellie and Tess, turning his back to the soldier. Ellie finally followed Yn’s directions and got down next to Y/n.

“Listen, you let us do this run,” Tess bargained, “We’ll split the cards with you.”

The soldier wasn’t having it, “Oh, will you?”

Y/n’s breaths quickened, knowing their chances of escape were slim. There had to be something to do. If she gave herself up, would he let Tess and Joel leave with Ellie? She didn’t particularly feel like dying, but Ellie was too important to compromise. They could get her the rest of the way.

“Hands on your head, eyes forward,” the soldier instructed. It was the eyes forward bit that bothered Joel the most. They wanted to control what they couldn’t even see.

“Hands on your head,” the soldier screamed, startling them all into doing it. He came up behind Tess, holding a device to her neck. Checking to see if they were infected.

Y/n’s heart stopped in her chest. Shit.

“Really, man?” Tess complained.

The soldier was undeterred, “Yep, we’re doin’ this by the book.”

Ellie nudged Y/n with her boot, signaling she knew what was coming. Y/n wasn’t sure how to offer her any assurance that they’d be okay.

“Unauthorized exit,” the soldier reported, “They’ll hang you for that.”

“Fine,” Joel tried again, “Everythin’ off this run and half off of all the pills.”

Their voices faded in Y/n’s ears. If she could move quick enough, she could spin around and shoot the soldier before he knew what was happening. It would give Tess and Joel a few seconds to get away.

Before Y/n could make a decision, Ellie stole her move and stabbed the soldier in the leg.

“Ellie!” Y/n and Tess cried in unison.

The soldier was momentarily dazed, stumbling backwards and trying to figure out where the injury was. Y/n took the opportunity to shove Ellie behind her. Joel did the same, jumping to his feet and standing in front of Y/n. It was pure instinct.

“Get out of the fuckin’ way,” the soldier yelled, aiming his gun past the adults.

Joel could talk his way out of a lot, but this looked grim. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“We can fix this,” he tried, holding up his hands as a barrier between them and the soldier.

The soldier was done listening to their pathetic attempts. “Move.”

Joel didn’t budge.

“Move.”

Y/n had been on the recieving end of a lot of guns, held by people who thought that God had abandoned the post-apocalyptic warland and it was their job to fill His seat. But the military regulated weaponry, the uniform, the expressionless face that wouldn’t fill with guilt the moment its body pulled the trigger.

It transported her back twenty years.

And she knew Joel was there with her.

He surged forward, letting out a gutteral cry as he tackled the soldier to the ground. He climbed atop him, pinning him, and began to throw one merciless punch after the other. The crunching of bone and squishing of flesh formed an awful, perfect, rhythm.

While Ellie watched and felt something awaken within her, Y/n felt something die. She watched the man she’d known in her past life as loving and tender become a necessary monster. People thought mourning was only for those who left the earth, but there were plenty of dead souls still breathing. If there was any debate as to whether or not her version of Joel Miller was truly gone, the proof was now and forever burned into Y/n’s mind. Someone else now inhabited in his body.

When the job was done, Joel sat heaving over the man’s body, looking down at his bloody and bruised fist. It was the closest he could ever come to avenging her. When he looked up, his eyes first fell on Ellie, who didn’t seem to mind the violence at all. It seemed she actually liked it.

Y/n’s eyes told a different story.

A well-timed lightning strike lit her up, and Joel saw tears pooling below her y/e/c pupils. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety mixing with terror. Joel knew exactly what she was thinking about him and for a singular second, he felt guilt. He felt guilt for causing her pain, for forcing her to see him as anything other than the man she’d known.

It passed as quick as it came. It had to.

Tess grabbed the dropped scanner and read the bright red screen. Y/n hurried back to the present pulled Ellie by her jacket away from Tess.

“No, no,” Ellie yelled, “No, I’m not sick!”

“Joel,” Tess called, beginning to panic.

“She’s not sick,” Y/n backed Ellie up, “She’s clean!”

“Joel,” Tess yelled again, putting space between Y/n and her.

Ellie pulled her jacket sleeve up to reveal her arm, “Look! Look! This is three weeks old! Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look a day old to you?”

Tess examined the bite site, it looked more like a bad scar than an infectious wound.

“You would have fuckin’ killed me!” Ellie said in horror.

“I should fucking kill you,” Tess bit back, looking up at Y/n, “What the hell’s Marlene trying to pull?!”

“It’s true,” Y/n said, keeping one hand over her pistol in case Tess didn’t listen, “She’s clean.”

She looked past Tess’ shoulder and over to Joel, who was still watching her. It was a long shot to get him of all people to listen to her, but now, she was happy to bank on their history in hopes that he’d believe her.

“I swear it,” Y/n held a hand up, her eyes digging into Joel’s, begging for him to not raise his gun.

Joel stopped short at Y/n’s vulnerability, he was shaken in every direction just from the last thirty seconds. He felt his will to argue with her slipping away.

“They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run,” Ellie stated, she wasn’t wrong. They could argue elsewhere and keep their lives.

“Joel, we gotta move,” Tess called, interrupting the stare-off between Y/n and him, “We gotta move, Joel.”

Ellie and Tess were already making their way to the fence, but Y/n and Joel stayed a second longer. Neither one had much credibility with the other, not after the last time they’d been together. But at the moment, Joel had two choices. He could either die at FEDRA’s hands, or he could follow the woman he’d once trusted most in the world and believe her one more time.

He chose the latter, though he was far from believing.

Joel picked up the soldier’s rifle and gestured for Y/n to move, the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, who were already slipping through a hole in the chained fence. Y/n pushed through it, coming to stand on the other side of the QZ’s limits and pausing for Joel. She knew he trusted her as far as he could throw her and she wasn’t totally confidant in turning her back to him. She waited till he came through and the two of them ran after Tess and Ellie, into the night and into the unknown…

————————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking (for anyone whose tag isn’t working, change your settings to ‘show up in search results’)

Joel Miller Taglist: @xsnak-3x @xmoonknightlyx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #twenty years later

2K notes · View notes