Jacksepticeye Imagines

Always There

Word count: 1708

For Echo_Star_ !

You technically had your first kiss in second grade, though you don't really count it. You don't even properly remember if you actually kissed him on the lips. You were seven years old, and the boy had very light blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. You weren't really good friends with him; you don't even know him that well. Nonetheless, you still had some kind of childish crush on him.

It was picture day, you could remember that much. At recess, you met him by one of the okay structures. It was him who kissed you on the cheek first. You returned the gesture. Still, you can't remember if you gave him a little peck on the lips. Oh well, it really didn't matter much to you anyway.

You got your first real crush in sixth grade. He was tall, smart, handsome (in your eyes), and hilarious. He had a crush on your friend, however, and you quickly got used to being happy for your friends in a relationship, even if it was your crush they were dating. This happened now often than you would think. You were a hopeless romantic, falling head-over-heels for many friends over the years. It didn't hurt, though, at least not often. You were genuinely happy to see your friends and your crushes happy in relationships, and it didn't bother you to see them together.

In seventh grade, Seán moved to your school. He sat beside you in first period, and you quickly became friends. He decided to sit near you in the other two classes you shared. On of those classes was science, where there were assigned tables. Seán couldn't sit next to you, but his table was right behind yours. Your crush at the time, a friend from last year named Brody, was your table partner. You didn't tell Seán about any of your crushes unless he figured out for himself, because who wants a twelve-year-old girl going on about boys she thinks are cute or funny? Maybe some of your girl friends wouldn't mind, but you spared Seán from that with the preconceived idea that boys didn't want to hear about "girly" things.

So Seán, who soon earned the nickname Jack, sat behind you and Brody. Brody was what most people would call a flirt, though you weren't sure if it was intentional flirting or if he was just naturally touchy. None of your other guy friends were so affectionate. Jack was the only other boy you even hugged. Brody would randomly lean on you, hug you, sit on your lap, sit between your legs on the ground, sometimes even lay his head in your lap. It drove you crazy because you knew he didn't like you that way. In fact, he dated a few of your friends, but it was never you.

One day, you were particularly upset about this fact, and you wondered if you would just forver be alone. The teacher was saying something about partner work and you should have listened, but you couldn't if you tried. In your peripheral vision, you could see Brody face you, about to ask to work together.

"Hey (Y/N)," called a voice from behind you. You turned around to see Jack with a smile forming on his lips. He raised his eyebrows as a way of asking if you wanted to be his partner. You almost audibly sighed in relief and agreed, thankful to not have to work with Brody with all these feelings inside you.

When you moved to Jack's table, your chairs unbelievably close together, you leaned on his shoulder for a moment. He knew this was your silent 'thank you.' It was incredible how much you understood each other from the few months you'd been friends. You could tell he was a keeper.

In eighth grade, Jack watched you make googly eyes at Spencer. Your friendship with Spencer went back for years, yet you felt closer to Jack within the past year. Even so, you still had a crush on Spencer. Near the middle of the year, he even started sneaking an arm around you or slipping his hand into yours (pda was against school policy). However, when you gained the courage to ask if he wanted to be your boyfriend, he said he wanted to wait until high school. This was understandable until he started dating your friend near the end of the year.

Somehow, you did actually end up dating Spencer in November of your freshman year. At fifteen years old, all you really did was hold hands, hug, and kiss cheeks. He'd walk you to every class he could, which was what Jack usually did. Jack still walked you to the few classes Spencer was too far away from to do so himself. It only took a few weeks for the relationship to feel. . . weird. You felt distant, like being with him was almost an obligation at this point. He would say he loves you, and you'd have to say it back because what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn't? One day, he went to kiss you good bye and you could see he was aiming for your lips. You panicked and took a step back. He gave you a weird look but tried again. This time you held his shoulders at arm length. Reaching for your hips, he asked what was wrong, didn't you love him? It was too much all at once and you walked away, nearly running to your next class.

Tears we're building up in your eyes as you entered the drama room. Jack was one of the only other people in there.e you retreated to your seat beside him. He was about to start rambling about something, you could tell, but he stopped when he saw your face. He protectively wrapped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. He asked what was up, what he could do to help, if you wanted him to make up an excuse for you to leave, if you needed to go to the nurse. Before the teacher or the rest of the class arrived, he led you to the hallway and out of some doors. Through your tears, you asked him what the hell he was doing. He said he was taking you to get some coffee at the nearby McDonalds. It was the last class if the day anyway, and you could afford to miss it just once.

He always knew how to cheer you up. Even one evening your junior year when you were bawling to him over the phone about failing a test and about how you needed high grades so you could get scholarships. He was at your apartment where you lived with your Aunt in less than ten minutes, on the fire escape knocking on your window.  You let him in and he hugged you, promising everything would be alright. He reminded you that you could take the retest. You nodded into his chest.

It was then, as Jack told you he really didn't mind that you were getting his shirt wet, that you realized you loved him. Your heart swelled when he told you to change into some pajamas, and that he would find a movie to watch. You returned from the bathroom and he was cross-legged on your bed. You sat beside him and saw that he was on Netflix. He showed you the movie for approval. It was your favorite movie, and he knew that. You nodded and both got under the covers. You cuddled up to him as he held the phone sideways on his stomach, turning the volume up just loud enough to be heard. It didn't take you long to fall asleep, and the sky was much darker when you woke up. Jack was sitting up, cursing himself for falling asleep.

"I should go home," he said, running a hand through his hair.

You turned on your phone and glanced at the time. "Jack, it's past midnight. You can't walk home this late." He sighed, knowing you were right. You pulled back the duvet to invite him back in, and he crawled under. He made an alarm on his phone for early in the morning, the turned back towards you. You couldn't help but snuggle up to Jack in your cold room, earning a soft chuckle from him.

The next time you woke up was around six in the morning. Jack untangled himself from you to turn it off. "I have to go," he mumbled with a hoarse voice. You absolutely loved the raspiness.

You held onto him tighter, whining that he was warm and that you would be cold. You saw his expression change when you said that you needed him. A blush rose to his cheeks and you scrambled to sit up, rambling about how you didn't mean it that way, but it was too late.

Jack smiled warmly as he sat down, facing you with his hand resting on the other side of your legs. He was close to your face, but not close enough. When his eyes flicked down to your lips, you let your hands glide up to his neck and rest on either side of his face. You parted your lips and he leaned forward, gently pressing his soft lips to yours. He pulled back, his hands resting on your sides. He pulled you into a warm hug and pressed a kiss just below your ear before standing up again.

"I'll see you at school," he grinned.

"Yeah," you responded in a daze, but with a little smile on your face.

He paused in the middle of climbing out your window. He crossed the room again and grabbed his phone, sliding it into his pocket. His hands gently grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer for one more kiss.  This time, your lips moved with each others slowly. He pulled back again with a sigh.

"I'll be back to walk you to school, normal time," he said, standing up straight again. But he leaned back down and kissed you one last time. "God, I will never get tired of kissing you."