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motorsportbarbie13 · 1 day ago

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The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding

In which you and Max tie the knot.

Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List

After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didn’t want to wait until the next summer break to get married.

Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail.

It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadn’t missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble.

“What if we just eloped?” He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows you’d do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesn’t suit you at all.

You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. “What?”

Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. “You heard me. What if we just said ‘fuck this’ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? That’s a thing?”

Not for the first time in your relationship, you’re stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s fucking with you or not. “You’d…you’d want that?”

Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. “Baby,” He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. “Baby, I’d marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I don’t care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I don’t care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.”

Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Max’s forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it’s true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I don’t care.”

He’d do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. “I just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.”

You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what you’re feeling. “I love our lives and know we’re privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something that’s just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?”

An idea forms in Max’s head then. “What if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?”

You nod, “Have is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?”

Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. It’s a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Max’s hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he can’t get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours.

Ever since getting engaged, you’d hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but you’d been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day.

“Where would we go? And when?” The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you.

Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days.

“We could do it this winter? There’s always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. We’d see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.”

You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this.

yourpersonalinsta posted

129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!

December, 2025

The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day.

Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you hand’t done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldn’t help but continually breathe a sigh of relief.

The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you.

Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didn’t want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didn’t want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule you’d been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes you’d go weeks between seeing each other too.

No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want you around. It was because he didn’t want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment.

In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you weren’t taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick.

You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You weren’t sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering.

All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. “Hi baby.” He whispers, voice rough with sleep.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him.

As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. “You looked deep in thought. Everything okay?” He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek.

“Hmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.”

Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villa’s lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed.

“You still feeling okay about tomorrow?”

Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action.

“I am…unless you’re not?” It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Max’s face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what you’d do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow.

Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that you’ve been living in since you got here. “Lifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.”

Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didn’t really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldn’t always control it.

“I know.” You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly.

“Anxiety?” It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. “Do you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and I’m a goner. There isn’t a single second thought in my mind, love.”

“I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. “I’m sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know it can’t be easy.”

You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you weren’t good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had?

Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didn’t see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life.

“I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits, brows raised, until you nod. “I will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, you’re mine and I’m yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.”

Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“Oh, sweet girl it’s not you that’s lucky.” Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. “I’m the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.”

There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him you’d cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked.

Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Max’s approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.

It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadn’t asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready.

You’re just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when there’s a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. He’s got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesn’t look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two.

“Lifeje, where are -” Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought he’d been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with it’s plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. “Christ.” He whispers, unable to move from the spot he’s rooted to.

You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. “Do I look okay?”

Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa.

“I am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way I’m remembering anything while I look at you.” He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. ”

And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that he’s bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that he’s bought you.

“What’s in the bag?” You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever.

He seems to remember that there’s something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. “I know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.”

You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. It’s a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box.

When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. It’s the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought you’d never have anywhere to wear it.

“Max.” You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Max’s own eager look. “It’s…it’s so pretty I don’t have the words. You spoil me.”

“And I’m going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?”

You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on.

“Now, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?”

Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that it’s just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect.

Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know he’s going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, he’s as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are.

He couldn’t have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak he’s so happy.

The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but it’s fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. “When Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought I’d like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong I’d been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that you’ve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.” Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek.

Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. You’re endlessly glad you both had written your vows so you’d be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach.

“I promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,” He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. “Whatever you need, you’ll have. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words can’t accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.”

The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know it’s now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment.

“I stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like you’d known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think we’re criminally insane for doing this. But it’s nearly impossible to put into words what you’ve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know it’s beyond cliche but you’ve altered who I am at my very core. I’ve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.” You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize.

“I promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that you’re on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and you’re mine. I’m so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.”

A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond you’ve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you.

Rings are exchanged and before you’re able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as you’re told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling.

“I love you so much, wife.” Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife.

maxverstappen1 posted

1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god

tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff

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ham1lton · 9 hours ago

Note

hi hehe it’s me again with another singer yn headcanon. she releases bed chem and lewis is in public the first time he hears it (he knows it’s abt him) and when he hears “come right on me, i mean camaraderie” he’s like 😧🫣🫨🙂‍↕️😌

- 🐰

JUNO!

pairings: lewis hamilton x popstar!yn

summary: writing songs about your alleged situationship with an f1 legend is one thing. watching the internet connect the dots and expose your soft launch in real time? that’s a whole other story.

warnings: very vague mentions of sex. if you can listen to the song, this’ll be okay.

author’s note: i kinda just did my own thing with it bunny anon i’m sorry :((

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by sza, lewishamilton and 2,139,909 others.

yourinstagram: my newest album short n sweet is out this weekend. including my #1 single espresso!!! (still pinching myself) and my collab with thee sza. love her sm. please go check it out. maybe give it a stream. i would like that.

tagged // sza

view all comments

user2: fav song??

-> yourinstagram: that’s like asking me to choose a favourite child :( i can’t do that. (it depends on the week and my mood).

sza: i love u :(

-> yourinstagram: LOVE U MORE 🩷🩷🩷

user1: YASSSSS!!!! WE WON!!!!

lewishamilton: so proud of you. you worked so hard for this.

-> user3: fav song future mr yn? 😊

-> lewishamilton: i’m a little partial to bed chem. can’t wait for you all to hear the album. it’s incredible.

-> user18: purr thank you current mr yn <3

user4: crying throwing up shaking i’m so ready for this

-> user5: real i’m already in shambles and it’s not even out yet

user6: yn x sza is actually the collab of the century idc. my mozart and beethoven.

user7: espresso is my religion and yn is my prophet

user8: she really said short n sweet just like me 🥹🫶

-> user9: we love a self-aware queen

user10: if short n sweet doesn’t heal my seasonal depression i’m suing

georgerussell63: loved espresso!!! such a hit 😃 excited for the album!!

user11: yn pls drop the sza collab early i’m begging on my knees

-> user12: same but make it the live version of espresso too i need both for survival

oscarpiastri: need a signed copy when it comes out for my gf and my sisters and my mum 😅

user13: yn dropping albums like this is her villain origin story and i’m here for it

billieeilish: ready to stream 🤩

user14: espresso literally changed my brain chemistry so i’m ready for the rest

user16: yn you don’t understand i have a midterm this week why would you do this to me

-> user17: yn said no academics just vibes

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

r/YNYLN

Discussion Thread: “Soft Launch or Just a Coincidence? yn’s Espresso and Bed Chem Have Fans Losing It”

view all comments

u/caffeinatedqueen: “say you can’t sleep, baby, i know / that’s that me espresso” … lewis is DEFINITELY the sleepless baby here. no one can convince me otherwise.

u/oversizedandobsessed: honestly, this whole album is just yn is just dragging this man through the mud of infatuation, and he’s happily letting her do it.

u/softlaunchdetective: the way she says “too bad your ex don’t do it for ya, walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya” like ??? is this shade at one of lewis’ exes??? 👀

u/nintendoswitchitup: “move it up, down, left, right, oh / switch it up like nintendo” … idk if it’s just me but this sounds like an inside joke. lewis definitely spilled to her about playing mario kart that one time or something, and she ran with it.

u/spillthepollen: LEWIS LITERALLY HAVING A PROD CREDIT ????

u/espressoenthusiast: can we talk about how lewis called bed chem his fave and now he’s out here reposting espresso lyrics on his story?? like sir, do you want us to know that you down bad???

u/ynsbathrobe: lewis flying across time zones just to have yn calling him “sleepless” is sending me. they are not even trying to hide it anymore.

u/girlnamedcamaraderie: okay but the real tea: did she write this while they were “just friends” or after things escalated 👀 bc espresso feels like early-days crush and bed chem feels like… post-crush lmao.

u/carbonfiberqueen: the way “holy shit, is it that sweet? i guess so” is the cockiest line ever, and lewis was out here blushing on that Monaco dinner date. yn KNOWS she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

u/ynluvr69: not my queen begging him not to embarrass her. like yes he’s thee lewis hamilton but he’s also just a man 😭

u/racecarroman: the album rollout being this obvious is killing me. yn drops espresso, juno and bed chem, lewis goes “yeah this is my fave”, and now they’re gonna post a joint vacation pic in a week. mark my words.

u/manifestoversized: the taste music video is so hot im so serious i want her.

u/proofitsscientific: she gave us the words “say you can’t sleep, baby, i know” and then turned around and said “are you free next week?” … yn, we are all begging for mercy.

u/bedchemmessy: at this point, just let lewis confirm he’s the sleepless baby. he’s BEEN soft-launching yn through his spotify likes anyway.

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liked by ynsgirlfriend, bedchemstan and 2,837,993 others

ham1ltonshaderoom: i think we have an idea of the cute boy with the white jacket and thick accent is. singer songwriter yn yln released her newest album ‘short n sweet’ to both critical and commercial success the past weekend with five songs slotting themselves in the top ten. she also set twitter alight with the loudest soft launch of her alleged relationship with f1 legend lewis hamilton according to eagle-eyed fans. what do we think about the album and the couple ham1ltons?

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user1: yn writing bed chem and espresso about lewis is honestly too much for me. this is their pr team’s magnum opus.

user2: idk why people are surprised. we BEEN knew when she was randomly at that Monaco GP last year “just for vibes” 💀

user4: not y’all hyping them up like yn didn’t expose their entire situationship in bed chem… miss girl is wild for “arrive at the same time”

user3: idc about the relationship but short n sweet ATE and left no crumbs. five top ten hits? she’s THAT girl.

-> user25: cause juno, taste, espresso, bed chem and please please please??? she’s crazy!!

user5: the only thing louder than this “soft launch” is lewis’ exhaust pipes and yn’s lyricism.

user8: yn really said “i will not post him but i WILL write about what we’re doing at 3 a.m.” and i respect it

user9: “thick accent” got me crying bc we KNOW it’s lewis but yn made it sound like she pulled a victorian love interest 😭

user7: not a fan tbh… lewis is too much of a legend for this oversharing energy. like, does everything need to be in a song?

-> user10: girl it’s called being a songwriter… he knew what he signed up for.

user13: yn’s fans are delulu. they’re literally never gonna post each other publicly and y’all are gonna be analyzing vibes forever 💀

-> user11: LMFAOOOO

-> user12: feel like the dummy you are yet?

user14: short n sweet is a whole love letter to lewis and i’m here for it. she’s in her main character era, and he’s just happy to be here.

-> user26: she wants his baby 😭 like writing a whole song about a breeding kink is insane… #needthat

user15: lewis reposting espresso lyrics like “that’s that me espresso” was the confirmation i needed. boy, we KNOW it’s about you.

user16: the album is fire but yn’s “soft launch” strategy has me cackling. just post a selfie together and call it a day!!!

user17: imagine lewis on the pit wall like “yeah i’m the sleepless baby yn’s talking about” 😭😭

user18: i’m not saying lewis dating yn is a marketing strategy but it’s giving world domination vibes and i fear i love it.

-> user19: PR relationship or not, if yn pulls up at another GP this season, i’m throwing hands.

-> user19: CAUSE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE 😓

user20: yn u did your thing with this album!!!

user21: i just KNOW lewis is on her close friends story hyping her up with “🔥🔥🔥” emojis and we’ll never see it.

user22: yn soft launched a relationship and a top-tier album simultaneously. queen of multitasking.

user23: lewis is too old for this tbh. my guy should be manifesting a championship, not blowing out his pop star gf’s back.

user24: yn and lewis got me believing in love again. bed chem is my anthem. i’m free next week if they’re hiring a third.

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liked by lewishamilton, bestie1 and 3,738,929 others.

yourinstagram: i’m working late cause i’m a singerrrr 😁

comments switched off.

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

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hees-mine · 2 days ago

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Birthday girl - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.

Genre: 18+, stepcest.

Word count: 2k+

“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.

“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.

“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.

“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.

She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.

She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.

“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms and resting against the kitchen counter.

You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.

He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.

His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.

You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.

Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.

“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.

Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.

His wife always had a way of making things about her just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.

When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.

He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.

Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.

At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.

How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?

You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.

Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.

It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.

Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.

Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.

He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.

He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.

You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.

“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.

“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.

“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in…

Read full story on my Patreon!

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#lee heesung smut #heeseung angst #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen heeseung

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hellobykittys · 3 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”

Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.

“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”

“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.

“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”

Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”

“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.

Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.

“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.’ ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”

“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.

“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.

Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.

“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”

The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”

“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”

“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”

Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”

Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.

“Y/N.”

The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.

“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”

“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”

“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”

Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.

“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.

Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.

“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”

“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”

Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”

“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”

“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”

Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.

“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.

“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.

“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”

“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.

“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”

Charles laughed, incredulous.

“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”

“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”

Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.

“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.

“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.

Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I hate you guys.”

“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”

Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.

“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”

With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.

The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.

When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.

“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.

“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.

Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.

“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.

“And you? What do you think of all this?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.

“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.

“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”

“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.

“I think I can follow that.”

Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.

“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”

“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.

“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”

Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.

“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.

Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.

When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.

“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”

Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.

“Charles?” she called, without turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”

Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.

“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”

“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”

Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”

Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.

“So, about those rules…”

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.

“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.

“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”

“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.

“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.

“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”

She let out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”

“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.

“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”

Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.

“It’s a start.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.

“One more thing, Charles.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”

He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.

“That’s asking too much.”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.

Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.

Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.

Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.

Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”

On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic

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lee-laurent · 2 days ago

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Romeo and Juliet - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack falls for the new owner of the Devils' daughter

content: reverse of a slowburn (they move really fast)

wc: 14k

notes: requested!! i'm sorry this took sooooo long! school is kicking my ass :(( but i really liked writing this! i rewrote it like twelve times until i finally found an angle i liked and i hope you guys enjoy it too! keep on sending in requests :))

Remi Bouchard stood awkwardly behind her dad, arms crossed and weight shifting from one foot to the other, as he talked to his new team, droning on and on about his expectations. She'd heard this speech before--different team, same lines. Discipline. Effort. Respect. Her dad always delivered it like he was audtioning for a role in a sports movie, with the same rehearsed authority and clipped tone.

Behind his back, she rolled her eyes. This time, though, she wasn't sitting in the bleachers or tucked away in the family section. No, this time, he'd insisted she stand behind him, a silent reminder to everyone in the room that he was not only their new coach, but also her father. Like she needed that.

Her gaze drifted lazily across the room. Players filled the chairs, leaning back like they'd heard their fair share of speeches too. A few were older, veterans whose faces she vaguely recognized from highlight reels. The rest were younger--fresh-faced rookies and players just hitting their stride.

Her eyes landed on a guy near the back, sitting with one ankle propped on his knee. His light brown hair was messy in a way that looked accidental but wasn't, and a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he whispered something to the guy beside him. Whatever it was must've been funny, because the other guy was fighting to keep a straight face.

Interesting.

Remi tilted her head, letting her gaze linger a second longer than she should have. She'd always been good at reading people--better than her dad, anyway--and something about him stood out. He didn't look nervous or overly respectful like some of the others. He looked... comfortable. Like he knew exactly who he was and didn't feel the need to apologize for it.

Her dad's voice snapped her back to reality.

"And remember, gentlemen, this season isn't just about talent--it's about discipline. Off the ice as well as on. That's what wins cups."

She fought the urge to groan. Discipline was her dad's favourite word, and he'd wielded it like a weapon her entire life. No late nights. No parties. No distractions. Her curfew in high school had been earlier than the local diner closed. Even now, at 19, he still acted like he needed his permission to make a decision.

But that was the thing about being 19. She didn't need anyone's permission--not anymore.

When her dad finally wrapped up his speech, he turned to her with a rare, tight-lipped smile. "Remi, why don't you introduce yourself?"

Her stomach twisted. She'd spent most of her life being introduced as "Phil Bouchard's daughter," and it didn't look like that was changing anytime soon. Still, she managed a polite smile, the one she'd perfected after years of playing nice for her dad's sake.

"Hi," she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "I'm Remi. My dad's the coach--obviously. But don't let him fool you; he's not that scary."

There was a ripple of polite laughter, but her eyes were fixed on the guy in the back. His lopsided grin had widened into a full-on smirk now, and for the first time, she felt her own smile shift into a real one.

The players were filing out, some offering polite nods to her dad as they passed. Remi stayed in the corner, checking her phone out of habit, when a voice grabbed her attention.

"So, Coach's not that scary?"

She looked up to find the guy from earlier standing a few feet away, hands shoved in the pocket of his Devils branded sweatpants, the same smirk on his face. Up close, he was even more annoyingly attractive.

"Not unless you cross him," she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"Good to know." He extended a hand. "Jack Hughes."

"Remi Bouchard," she replied, shaking it. His grip was confident and lingered long enough to make her heart skip.

"I figured," Jack said. "Your dad's been saying 'my daughter' every five minutes."

She laughed despite herself. "Yeah, he's good at that."

"Is he good at coaching too, or should I be worried?"

Remi hesitated for a beat, then leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low enough to make him lean in too. "Let's just say... don't expect to sleep in."

Jack's laugh was genuine, bright, and made her stomach flutter.

"Noted," he stood up straight. "Guess I'll see you around, Bouchard."

And with that, he was gone, leaving her standing there, slightly breathless and entirely annoyed at how much she'd enjoyed that.

The locker room emptied quickly after that. Remi stayed put, scrolling aimlessly through her phone as her dad exchanged a few last words with his assistant coaches. She didn't need to look up to know he was shooting her occasional glances, making sure she wasn't doing anything embarrassing.

When the other coaches finally left the room, her dad turned to her, his expression shifting into something softer, but no less authoritative.

"Thanks for sticking around today, kid," he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Didn't really have a choice, did I?" she replied, her tone just sharp enough to sting.

Phil frowned, his grip tightening slightly before he let go. "I just want you to understand what's at stake here. This team is a fresh start for me--and for us. I'm counting on you to make a good impression. That means no antics, Remi. No sneaking around, no hanging out with the players, no late nights."

Her jaw tightened. The rules. Always the rules. No matter where they moved or how many teams he coached, her dad never let up. She was 19 years old, a legal adult, and he still talked to her like she was a teenager that couldn't be trusted.

"Got it," she said flatly, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Are we done?"

Phil's frown deepened, but he nodded. "Go home. I'll meet you there after meetings."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heart pounding with anger. The hallway leading out of the arena was dimly lit, her footsteps echoing loudly in the empty space. Her dad's words replayed in her mind, each one sharpening her resentment like a knife.

No antics. No hanging out with players.

The absurdity of it made her laugh under her breath. Like she couldn't handle herself. Like she wasn't already smarter, sharper, and more aware of the world than he gave her credit for.

The truth was, she'd been good for too long. For years, she'd followed his rules, played the perfect daughter, sat quietly by the sidelines of his career. And what had it gotten her? A suffocating shadow she couldn't escape.

She paused at the edge of the parking lot, looking back at the arena. Most of the players were gone by now, but a few stragglers were still lingering by their cars. Her eyes scanned the lot until they landed on him. Jack Hughes.

He was leaning against the driver's side door of his car, his stupid smirk still on his face. His posture was relaxed, lazy, like he had all the time in the world.

He's exactly the kind of guy Dad would hate me hanging out with.

The thought struck her with startling clarity. Jack wasn't just charming and attractive--he was off-limits. A walking, talking rebellion waiting to happen. And the best part? Her dad had basically handed her the idea on a silver platter.

She could hear the protests in his voice already. Stay away from him, Remi. You're going to embarrass me. You don't know what you're doing.

A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. Maybe she didn't know exactly what she was doing yet, but she knew enough. She wasn't going to sit around and let her dad dictate her life any longer. If he wanted her to stay away from Jack Hughes, well, that was exactly who she'd be spending her time with.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her attention. Her best friend, Talia, was texting her.

Talia: how's hockey prison? are you surviving?

Remi smirked, fingers flying across the screen.

Remi: barely. but i've got a plannnn. stay tuned

She glanced at Jack again. This wasn't just about pissing off her dad--it was about proving, to herself and to him, that she was in control of her own life. And Jack Hughes? He was going to help her do exactly that.

She walked over to him, smoothing down her hair and tugging at the hem of her jacket, wanting to look like she wasn't psyching herself up to do this.

Jack didn't notice her approach until she was a few feet away. He glanced up, his face shifting to surprise, then to a lazy grin that had her weak in the knees.

"Didn't think I'd see you again tonight," he said.

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Figured I'd say hi before you forgot about me."

"Not a chance. Coach's daughter isn't exactly forgettable."

Her laugh came easily, and she stepped closer, leaning against the car beside him. "Well, that's reassuring. So, what's the team's golden boy still doing here? Everyone else has cleared the fuck out."

Jack tilted his head. "Golden boy? That's a stretch."

"Come on," she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. "Don't play humble with me. I saw you back there, all comfortable and confident. You're not like the others."

"Is that a good thing?" he smirked.

"That depends. Do you live up to the hype?"

Jack chuckled, the sound warm and low. "Guess you'll have to stick around and find out."

For a split second, her resolve wavered. It would be so easy to fall into this, to let herself believe this wasn't just a game she was playing. But she couldn't afford that--not now. She had a point to prove, and he was the perfect way to do it.

"So," she said, smoothly changing the subject, "is this how you always spend your Friday nights? Hanging out in parking lots and scrolling through Instagram?"

Jack leaned back, crossing his arms. "Only when I'm waiting for someone interesting to show up."

"Oh?" she arched a brow. "And did they?"

"Yeah," he held her gaze. "They did."

The flutter in her chest was stronger this time, and she quickly buried it beneath a playful grin. "Well, I hate to disappoint, but I'm not that interesting."

"Not buying it," he shook his head. "I've got a feeling you're full of surprises."

"Maybe you'll find out."

Jack pushed off his car, standing just a little closer than before. "Guess I'll have to stick around, then," he teased.

Remi glanced up at him, her heart pounding. This is working. She didn't need to push too hard--just enough to keep him hooked, to let him think this was real. It almost felt real. And that was the dangerous part.

"Well," she stepped back just far enough to break the moment, "don't let me keep you here all night."

Jack hesitated, then pulled his car keys from his pocket. "Alright, Bouchard. But don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, her voice light and breezy as she turned and walked away.

When she reached her car, her phone buzzed with another text from Talia.

Talia: details. now.

Remi: step 1: complete. he's hooked

As she hit send, she glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Jack's car pulling out of the lot. This was just the beginning.

Remi leaned against the railing of the bleachers in the practice rink, her legs crossed casually as she scrolled through Instagram to see what her friends back in Toronto were up to. The team was midway through drills, her dad barking instructions from the bench, his voice echoing through the room.

But when she was looking up, her attention wasn't on her dad. It was on him.

Jack was mid-drill, skating backward as he tracked a pass, his stick carrying the puck across the ice. He made it look so easy--like he was born to do this. The precision in his movements was almost hypnotic.

When the whistle blew, signaling a break, Jack skated toward the bench for water. He looked upward--just for a second--and locked eyes with her. Remi played it cool, offering him a small wave and a teasing smirk.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a grin that was equal parts amused and intrigued. He didn't break their eye contact as he lifted the water bottle, taking a long sip like he was trying to show off to her in the oddest way.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. Subtlety clearly wasn't his strong suit.

As the players began to scatter for the next drill, Jack skated over to the boards near where she stood. Leaning his forearms casually on top of the plastic, he tilted his head up at her.

"Didn't realize this practice was open to spectators," he teased.

"It's not," she replied, moving down a couple rows. "I'm special."

"Special, huh?" He smirked. "Is that why you're standing up there, judging my every move?"

"Who says I was judging?" she shot back. "Maybe I was admiring."

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "Careful, Bouchard. Keep talking like that and I'll start thinking you're here just to see me."

She grinned, "Maybe I am."

The whistle blew again, cutting through their moment. Jack glanced back at the ice, where the rest of the team was already setting up for the next drill.

"Duty calls," he said, skating backward to keep his eyes on her. "But don't go anywhere. I'll be looking for you when we're done."

"I'll think about it," she sassed, turning to leave.

The smell of sweat hit her as the players filtered into the locker room, chatting as they pulled off their gear. Remi stood near the wall, pretending not to notice the attention her presence was drawing.

Jack was one of the last to come off the ice, his jersey slung over one jersey and his sweat damp with sweat. When he spotted her, his pace slowed, his grin widening as he veered her way.

"You know," he said, stopping just a little to close, "if you keep showing up like this, people are going to start talking."

"Talking about what?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes.

"About how the coach's daughter has a thing for the team's centre," he replied, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Remi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "Who says I don't?"

Jack blinked, his confidence faltering for a fraction of a second before he let out a soft laugh. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"Am I?" she deliberately took a step closer.

"Definitely," his voice dropped even lower.

Before he could say more, the sound of her dad's voice calling her name echoed down the hall. Jack immediately straightened, stepping back like a kid caught his hand in the cookie jar.

"Don't worry," she whispered, brushing past him. "I won't tell."

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder just in time to catch the look on his face--amusement and exasperation. It sent a thrill racing through her, and for the first time, she realized how much she was enjoying this.

Remi wandered through the small crowd, her dad occupied with his assistant coaches on the other side of the lounge. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Jack, who was standing by the snack table with a few teammates.

When their eyes met, his face lit up, and he excused himself, weaving through the crowd to meet her halfway.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and warm. "You didn't come down to congratulate me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she teased, crossing her arms. "Do you require special acknowledgment for doing your job?"

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "I thought you might be impressed."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "I guess you were okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, placing a hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded. "Tough crowd."

"Don't worry," she said, her smile turning mischievous. "I'll be sure to send you a participation ribbon."

Jack leaned in slightly, his grin becoming more genuine. "How about dinner instead?"

His tone, his expression--there was nothing calculated about it. He was just... sincere. And that made her next move feel all the more like a game.

"Maybe," she took a step back. "If you're lucky."

She walked away, leaving Jack standing there, shaking his head with a smile that said he was already hooked.

Remi laughed softly as she collapsed onto Jack's couch, kicking off her sneakers and tucking her legs under herself. His apartment was a reflection of him--casual, but inviting, with a lingering smell of cologne that was distinctly Jack.

She'd finally taken him up on his dinner offer and it had been the most fun she'd had in a long time.

"You're way too good at losing track of time," Jack said, joining her with two beers in hand. He offered her one, his knee brushing against hers as he settled beside her.

"Time's a construct," she quipped, taking the bottle, glad he had already removed the cap. She leaned back, letting her head rest against the cushion. "And I was having fun."

Jack gave her a crooked smile. "Fun, huh? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, don't fish for compliments," she teased, knocking his shoulder with hers. "You're more than fun. You're..." She pretended to think, her smile widening as his expression grew mock-serious. "Moderately entertaining."

Jack rolled his eyes, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "Moderately entertaining? Guess I'll have to up my game."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his hand sliding along her jaw as his lips found hers. The kiss was warm and confident, tasting of beer and italian food, deepening quickly as he tilted her head back. Remi melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he pressed closer, his weight shifting to pin her against the couch.

The outside world melted away, leaving only the heat of his hands as they pulled her shirt up and the intoxicating way he kissed her--like she was the only thing that mattered. His hands roamed over her waist, her thighs, pulling her against him with a hunger that made her heart beat faster. They quickly stripped down to their underwear, shifting to lay on the couch.

She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "I'm gonna ruin you, Hughes."

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against hers. "Pretty sure it's the other way around."

Remi reached into the pocket of her discarded jeans, pulling out a case containing a neatly rolled blunt. She held it up between them, her lip pulled between her teeth. "Wanna test that theory?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, but propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she lit the blunt with practiced ease. She took a slow drag, blowing the smoke out in a lazy swirl before handing it to him.

"D'you always carry these around?" he asked, taking it from her and mimicking her movements.

"Only when I'm feeling inspired," she replied, slipping out from under him and onto the floor, patting the space beside her. "Come on. The couch is overrated."

Jack joined her, body sprawling out beside hers as they passed the blunt back and forth. The room filled with the soft haze of smoke, and the tension that had been simmering between them shifted into something more intimate.

"What's your biggest secret?" she asked suddenly, her head turned to look at him.

Jack exhaled a puff of smoke, his brows furrowing as he thought. "Biggest secret? Probably that I suck at cooking."

Remi laughed, elbowing his side. "Come on, Hughes. You can do better than that."

"Alright... I hate how much I care about what people think of me. On the ice, off the ice. It's exhausting sometimes."

Remi blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice. She handed him the blunt, her tone gentler. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing just fine."

Jack smiled, taking a drag. "Your turn. Biggest secret."

"I don't think I've ever really been myself," she admitted. "Not around my dad, not around anyone. It's like... I'm always trying to be what people expect."

Jack reached over, his fingers brushing hers. "You're pretty damn great as you are."

The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache, and for the first time, she wondered if she'd underestimated him.

Jack hovered nervously by the back door, his hoodie pulled low over his head, scanning the dark backyard like they were in a spy movie. "I still think this is a terrible idea."

"That's because you're boring," Remi whispered back, pulling her house key from her pocket. The lock clicked softly, and she pushed the door wide with a grin. "See? Easy."

Jack stepped inside hesitantly, wincing when the hinges creaked. "If he catches me--"

"He won't," she cut, turning to grab his hand. Her fingers were warm, steady, and the quick squeeze she gave his palm sent a shiver up his arm. "He's been passed out for hours. I'd know--I checked."

"That's reassuring," he muttered, letting her pull him forward.

The house was dark and still, the only sound the faint hum of the refridgerator in the kitchen. Jack couldn't help but glance around as they moved through the house, his grip on her hand tightening every time the floorboards creaked under their weight.

"This is ridiculous," he hissed when they reached the staircase. "Your dad's not just anyone, Remi. He's my coach. My fucking boss."

She paused mid-step, turning to look at him with a smirk that made his pulse quicken. "And yet you're the one who keeps following me."

He opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut when she tugged on his hand again, pulling him up the stairs. His heart hammered as they passed the closed door to what he could only assume was her dad's bedroom, the faint sound of snoring filtering through the wood.

When they finally reached her bedroom, Remi pushed him inside, locking the door behind them. Jack leaned back against it, exhaling hard as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're gonna get me benched."

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer until her body was pressed against his. "You're too good. He'd never bench you."

"You sure about that?" he mumbled, his voice dropping as his hands slid instinctively to her hips.

"Positive," she replied, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. "Besides, you'll be worth it."

His breath caught, her confidence making him forget how bad of an idea this was. She was dangerous, magnetic, and impossible to resist.

"God, you're reckless," his voice was rough as he leaned down to kiss her.

Her reply was lost against his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hoodie as they stumbled toward the bed.

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their heavy breathing. Remi lay sprawled across the sheets, her bare skin still warm from Jack's touch. His arm was draped lazily across her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her ribs as he stared up at the ceiling.

"You okay?" he asked almost hesitantly.

She turned her head to look at him, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Better than okay."

Jack laughed under his breath, pulling her closer. "Good. 'Cause I don't think I'll survive your dad murdering me."

She shook her head, leaning up to press a kiss to the faint red marks she'd left along his collarbone. "Relax. He doesn't need to know."

But as her hand slid across his chest, his fingers gently caught her wrist. His gaze turned serious, searching hers. "You're sure about this? About us?"

For a split second, she hesitated. The way he looked at her--like she was something precious, something worth risking everything for--made her chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to. But she pushed the thought aside, flashing him a toothy grin. "I'm sure."

Jack smiled, leaning down to kiss her again, and the warmth of his hand on her waist made her forget everything else.

Remi slipped into the kitchen the next morning, a slight ache in her muscles and a satisifed smirk on her lips. She was pouring a cup of coffee when her dad walked in, his expression already tense.

"Morning," she said lightly, leaning against the counter.

Phil frowned, eyes narrowing as he studied her. "What's on your neck?"

She instinctively lifted a hand to cover the faint bruise Jack had left just above her collarbone. "Nothing," she lied, turning to grab her mug.

"Don't 'nothing' me," he snapped, stepping closer. "That's a hickey. Who were you with?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," she said, her tone sharper than she intended.

Phil's jaw clenched, his frustration spilling over. "It is my fucking business, Remi. I know boys. Most of them are players who don't care about anything but themselves. I'm not letting you ruin your life for some--"

"I'm not ruining anything!" she snapped, slamming her mug onto the counter, coffee sloshing over the side. "God, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore! You can't control who I spend my time with."

The parking lot was empty except for a few scattered cars. Jack leaned against the driver's side door of his car, his hockey bag tossed in the backseat.

"You waiting for me again?" Remi asked, stopping a few feet away.

"Maybe. Can you blame me?"

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edge of his jacket. "Not really."

The space between them disappeared as he pulled her in, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was hungry, insistent. Her hands slid up his chest, tangling in the collar of his coat as she pressed herself against him.

Jack groaned softly, his hands gripping her waist as he slid his tongue into her mouth. The cool night air was forgotten, replaced by the warmth of her body and the breathy sounds she made against his mouth.

But the sound of footsteps nearby made them both freeze. Jack pulled back, his heart hammering as he glanced over his shoulder. A security guard was walking along the far side of the lot, his flashlight swinging lazily across the pavement.

"Shit," Jack whispered, running a hand through his tangled hair. "We need to be more careful."

Remi smirked. "Scared, Hughesy?"

He shook his head, exhaling a shaky laugh. "No, just trying not to get caught."

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "Where's the fun in that?"

Jack adjusted the collar of his jacket as he led Remi down the familiar hallway to his apartment. He'd suggested they grab dinner at his place after practice--a casual way for her to meet someone close to him. Remi had agreed, though the idea of meeting Luke like this had left a gnawing pit in her stomach.

"Relax," Jack said, glancing back at her as they stopped outside the door. "Luke's chill. He'll be excited to meet you."

"Oh, I'm sure," Remi replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your teammate-slash-brother who's seen me sulking around the rink for weeks? I bet he'll have no questions."

Jack smirked, unlocking the door. "You're overthinking it."

The door swung open, revealing Luke in a Devils hoodie and sweats, his hair damp like he'd just showered. His eyes flickered between Jack and Remi, surprise flashing across his face before he smiled.

"Hey. You actually did bring someone."

"Funny," Jack said, clapping his brother on the shoulder as he walked past. "Remi, this is Luke. Luke, Remi."

Remi extended a hand. "Nice to finally meet you outside of the rink."

Luke shook her hand. "You too. I, uh, I've seen you around a lot. Heard even more."

"Good things, I hope," she replied, shooting Jack a pointed look.

"All good," Luke said quickly, though his smile was tight. She could tell he was connecting the dots in his head.

Remi Bouchard. Coach's daughter. And now... whatever she was to Jack.

They moved into the living room, Jack dropping onto the couch and gesturing for Remi to join him. Luke disappeared into the kitchen, returning with beers. He handed one to Jack and set one on the table in front of Remi.

"So, how'd this happen?" he asked, sitting in the chair opposite them. His tone was casual, but his were sharp, darting between the two of them.

"What, you think I can't pull someone like her?" Jack teased.

"I didn't say that," Luke said quickly. "Just... isn't it... complicated?"

Remi stiffened slightly, but Jack just laughed, taking a swig of his beer. "Not as complicated as you'd think."

Luke's expression didn't change, and the weight of it made Remi shift uncomfortably. She could tell he wanted to ask more--probably about her dad, about how much he knew--but he held back, choosing to make small talk instead.

The evening passed with relative ease, though there was a tension lingering below the surface. Luke was polite, funny, but Remi couldn't shake the feeling that he was analyzing her every word. When they finally left, she let out a sigh she hadn't even realized she was holding.

On the car ride back to her place, Jack was unusually quiet, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. Remi glanced at him, the city lights casting soft shadows across his face.

"You okay?" she asked., s

He nodded. "Yeah. Just... I'm glad you properly met Luke."

"Why?" she asked, her voice light, though the question felt heavier than she intended.

Jack's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Because I really like you. And if this... if we're gonna be something, I want the people I care about to know you."

Guilt prickled at the edges of her thoughts. She forced a smile, reaching over to rest her hand on his thigh. "You're sweet, Hughes. You know that?"

He laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing as he placed a hand over hers. "Don't let it get around. Gotta protect my image."

Her smile didn't waver, but her stomach churned. She wasn't sure if it was guilt, the thrill of rebellion, or something else entirely. All she knew was that Jack Hughes was nothing like she'd expected--and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Jack sat in his stall, sipping water as he wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. Across the room, Nico and Luke were talking about dinner plans, their voices blending into background noise.

The sound of Phil's sharp whistle cut through the chatter, snapping everyone to attention. Jack tensed, his eyes flickering to the entry where Phil stood, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"Alright, listen up," Phil began, his voice carrying the kind of authority that demanded silence. "I've been watching you guys these past few weeks, and while I'm mostly happy with what I've seen on the ice, I need to remind you all of something."

The room was silent, every pair of eyes fixed on the coach. Jack shifted uncomfortably, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine.

"This team has one goal: to win," Phil continued, pacing slowly in front of the group. "And that means focus. Discipline. No distractions--on the ice or off."

Jack's stomach twisted. Phil's tone was calm, measured, but the words hit like a warning shot. He couldn't help but glance toward Nico, who raised an eyebrow in silent confusion.

"I've been in this game a long time," Phil said, stopping to look directly at the group. "I know what happens when players lose sight of what's important. You think one bad decision won't cost you? Think again. Whether it's partying too much, chasing the wrong kind of attention, or getting involved with the wrong people--it will catch up with you."

Jack swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep a neutral expression. He told himself that Phil didn't know anything, that the speech was just a coincidence. But the way his coach's eyes swept over the room, lingering on him longer than anyone else, made his chest tight.

"That's all," Phil said finally. "Think about what kind of player you want to be--and act like it. See you tomorrow."

The room remained silent as Phil walked out, the door swinging shut behind him. It wasn't until he was gone that the players began to murmur, exchanging confused glances.

"What the hell was that about?" Dawson muttered, leaning toward Jack.

"No idea," he replied quickly. He stood up, grabbing his bag. "I'll catch you later."

As he left the locker room, Jack couldn't shake the feeling that Phil's warning had been aimed directly at him.

Remi stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully brushing her hair into place when she heard her dad's voice call her name from the hallway. She sighed, setting the brush down as she turned to face the door.

"Yeah?" she called back, already bracing herself for whatever lecture was coming.

Phil appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression as story as she'd expected. His eyes flickered briefly to her neck, where the faint shadow of a hickey still lingered despite her best efforts to cover it with makeup.

"Who's the guy?" he asked bluntly, his tone clipped.

Remi's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral, crossing her arms to mirrow his stance. "What guy?"

"Don't play games with me, Remi," Phil snapped, stepping further into the room. "I'm not blind. You've been sneaking around, coming home late, and you've got another..." He gestured vaguely toward her neck. "You think I don't know what's going on?"

Remi arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a defiant smirk. "Maybe you don't."

Phil's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I don't have time for this, Remi. You're my daughter, and I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?" she shot back. "Living my life? Making my own decisions? God forbid I do anything you don't approve of."

"This isn't about approval!" he barked. "It's about respect--for yourself and for this family. You're running around with some guy who clearly doesn't care about you--"

"How would you know?" Remi interuppted, stepping closer. Her eyes flashed with anger. "You don't even know who he is."

Phil's face darkened. "And I don't want to know! Whoever he is, he's not worth it. Guys like that only think about themselves."

Remi laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "Wow, Dad. You're so sure you're right about everything, aren't you? Maybe the problem isn't who I'm seeing. Maybe the problem is you."

Phil stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"You don't get it, do you?" he said finally, his voice lower but no less tense. "This isn't just about you. The choices you make reflect on me--and on this team. I won't let you ruin what we've worked for."

Remi's anger gave away to something colder. "You mean what you've worked for. God forbid I do anything for myself."

Without waiting for a reply, she pushed past him, her steps echoing down the hall as she headed for her room. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it as her heart pounded in her chest.

Her dad didn't know. He couldn't know. But the weight of his words still lingered, settling like a stone in her stomach.

The room was quiet, Jack lay sprawled across the bed, his body still covered in a sheen of sweat. The sheets were a tangled mess beneath him, and the scent of sex and Remi's perfume lingered in the air.

Remi had slipped into the bathroom a few minutes ago, the sound of running water muffled by the door. Jack stared at the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips as he replayed the way she looked down at him--wild and unguarded, like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

His reverie was interrupted by the sharp buzz of her phone on the nighstand. It vibrated again, and again, lighting up the screen with notifications.

Jack hesitated, glancing toward the bathroom door. Don't man. Just leave it.

But the buzzing didn't stop, and before he could talk himself out of it, he reached over, turning the phone toward him. The messages were from a group labeled "Bad Bitches Only," the preview showing snippets of texts that made his brow furrow.

Talia: did you see him tonight?

Carmen: yeah, she's got him wrapped around her finger

Talia: rem is a mastermind. her dad's gonna lose it when he finds out

The words hit Jack like a slap to the face. He knew he shouldn't--but his curiosity was like an itch he couldn't ignore.

His thumb hovered over the screen, and then he guessed. Her passcode was simple--her birthday. His pulse quickened when the phone unlocked, revealing the full thread.

Talia: how's it feel to be breaking all daddy's rules?

Remi: better than i thought. he has noooo idea

Carmen: does jack know you're just using him or does he actually think you're like into him?

Remi: oh, he thinks it's real. poor guy's falling HARD

Talia: and when phil finds out?

Remi: that's the best part. let him stew

His chest felt like it had caved in, the air sucked from the room. The words blurred, but their meaning was crystal clear.

The bathroom door opened, and Remi walked out, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair framing her face. She stopped short when she saw him sitting up on the bed, her phone clutched in his hand.

"What are you doing with my phone?" she asked, her tone sharp, but there was a flicker of something else--panic--in her eyes.

Jack stood, his grip on the device tightening as he turned to face her. "What the hell is this, Remi?" His voice was low, dangerously quiet.

"What are you talking about?"

"This," he snapped, holding up the phone. "This whole... game you're playing. Using me to get back at your dad? To prove some point? Is that what all this was?"

Her eyes widened, and she stepped forward, hands raised. "Jack, it's not like that--"

"Don't," he interrupted, his voice cracking. "Don't even try to lie. I read the messages."

Remi's mouth opened, then closed like a fish, her face pale. "You shouldn't have done that," her voice trembled.

Jack let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "That's what you're worried about? That I invaded your privacy? Jesus Christ, Remi. I thought you actually cared about me."

"I do!" she blurted out. "Jack, I--"

"Don't," he cut her off again, backing away. "You don't get to say that. Not after this."

She reached for him, but he jerked his arm away. "Jack, please. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" he snapped, his eyes blazing. "How you pretended to give a shit about me? How every kiss, every touch, was part of some sick plan to piss off your dad? Do you even know what you've done? How I--" His voice broke, and he turned away, running a hand through his hair.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice thick with desperation. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Bullshit," he spat, spinning to face her. "That's all this was. Hurting me, hurting him. None of it was real, was it?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The truth was written all over her face.

Jack exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. He tossed the phone onto the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on with shaking hands. "You know what? You're just like him."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"You manipulate people to get what you want," he said, his voice hollow. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Remi flinched like he'd slapped her, her eyes glassy. "That's not fair."

Jack's jaw clenched, but he didn't reply. He grabbed his keys and headed for the door, his steps heavy with anger and heartbreak.

"Jack, wait!" she called, her voice breaking. "Please, just--"

The door slammed behind him, cutting her off. The sound echoed through the silence, leaving Remi standing in the middle of her room, her chest heaving as tears spilled down her cheeks.

For the first time, the weight of what she'd done hit her with full force. She sank onto the bed, staring at her phone like it was a bomb that had just gone off.

The silence in the room was deafening. Remi sat on the edge of her bed, her legs curled up to her chest as she stared at her phone lying on the crumpled sheets. The screen was dark, but the words Jack had read were burned into her mind. Her chest felt hollow, her breath shallow as her thoughts raced, tears spilling from her eyes.

I thought you actually cared about me.

His voice haunted her, raw and broken, the weight of his anger hitting her like a punch to the gut. She wrapped her arms around herself, the sting of his words cutting deeper and deeper. For someone who'd always prided herself on control, on being untouchable, she felt exposed--like every carefully constructed wall she'd built had come crashing down in an instant.

Her phone buzzed on the bed beside her, and she grabbed it, hoping--praying--it was Jack. But it was just a text from Talia.

Talia: what happened? you okay??

Remi's fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. Instead, she set the phone down again, her gaze drifting to the messy sheets, the imprint of where Jack had been laying not even half an hour before. She reached out, her fingers brushing the fabric, and a fresh wave of regret crashed over her.

None of it was real, was it?

The question hung in her mind, heavy and suffocating. And for the first time, she realized the answer wasn't as simple as she'd thought. At first, she'd convinced herself it was all part of the plan--a way to rebel, to defy her dad in the most calculated way possible. But somewhere along the line, something had shifted.

Her favourite moments with Jack began playing in her mind, uninvited.

They'd sprawled on the floor of his apartment, the faint haze of smoke curling in the air between them. Jack had been tracing patterns on the rug with his finger, his voice soft as he opened up about his fears--about letting people down, about never living up to expectations.

"You know," he'd said, glancing at her with a shy smile, "I don't think I've ever been this honest with anyone before."

Her chest had tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. "Maybe that's because you don't let people in."

He'd laughed, shaking his head. "And yet, here I am. Letting you in."

At the time, she'd brushed it off, teasing him about being sappy. But now the memory hit her differently, the weight of his trust making her throat feel raw.

Jack had taken her to a quiet overlook just outside the city, the twinkling lights stretching out before them like a sea of stars. He'd sat beside her on the hood of his car, their shoulders touching as they took in the scene in front of them.

"This is where I go when I need to clear my head," he'd said, his voice low. "Figured you might like it."

She'd turned to look at him, surprised by his soft expression. "Why'd you bring me here?"

He'd shrugged, but his eyes had been earnest. "Because you're different. You get me."

Then, she'd smiled, but now the memory felt bittersweet. You're different. His words had meant something then--something she'd ignored.

She'd always loved the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room. Whether they were stealing kisses in a quiet corner, or sharing laughs over takeout, his gaze had been steady, warm, and full of something she hadn't wanted to name.

But now, as she replayed those moments, she realized what it was. He'd looked at her like he loved her.

And the truth hit her like a freight train: She'd fallen for him, too.

She sucked in a shaky breath, pressing her palms to her eyes as tears spilled over. How had she let it get this far? How had she been so blind? The very thing she'd been trying to avoid--caring too much, being vulnerable--had happened anyway. And now she'd lost him.

The regret sat on her chest, suffocating her. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it with trembling hands, and opened her messages.

jack, i'm so sorry. please, let me explain

She stared at the screen, the cursor blinking accusingly. She hit send, her heart pounding, and followed it with another.

i never meant to hurt you. you mean more to me than you know

The texts went unanswered. She tried again, dialing his number. It rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail.

"Jack," she said, her voice cracking as she struggled to hold back tears. "Please. Just... call me back. I know I screwed up, but I need you to know that I--" She stopped, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. "I care about you. I care about you so much, and I-- I'm sorry. I'll explain everything. Just... please."

She ended the call, staring at the screen like it might magically light up with a reply. But nothing came.

The days passed into agonizing silence. Jack didn't respond to her texts or her voicemails, and each unanswered message felt like another nail in the coffin.

She barely slept, barely ate, her mind consumed with guilt and the aching emptiness he'd left behind. Her friends' attempts to cheer her up fell flat, and even her usual rebellious streak lost its spark.

She felt truly alone.

Jack didn't feel like himself. Not on the ice, not in the locker room, not even at home.

The hurt and anger churned inside him like a storm he couldn't shake. He'd barely slept since the night at Remi's, and when he did, he woke up angry all over again. Her words, her actions, her texts--they played on a loop in his mind, taunting him.

You don't care about anyone but yourself.

His own voice echoed in his head, laced with the same bitterness that had been clawing at him ever since he stormed out of her room. He hated that he'd said it. But more than that, he hated that she'd made him feel that way.

The buzzer sounded, snapping him back to the present. He was at practice, the familiar hum of the arena doing little to calm the chaos in his mind. Jack skated hard, pushing himself past the point of exhaustion, but the frustration remained, clawing at him like a weight he couldn't shake.

During a drill, he lost the puck to Nico, who darted past him with ease. Normally, Jack would've shrugged it off, but today it felt like salt in the wound. He slammed his stick against the boards, muttering a curse loud enough for Nico to glance back in confusion.

"You good, man?" Nico skated closer.

Jack waved him off, not trusting himself to answer. The rest of practice passed in a blur of misplaced passes and uncharacteristic mistakes. He felt every set of eyes on him, but he didn't care.

By the time the puck dropped for their next game, Jack's head was still far from clear. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

He started the game strong, channeling his frustration into speed and aggression. But as the minutes ticked by, his emotions got the better of him.

A harmless shove from an opposing player turned into a cross-check, earning him two minutes in the box.

When he returned to the ice, it happened again--a poorly timed hit that left his teammates scrambling to recover. This time, the refs weren't as forgiving.

"Two for boarding!" the ref barked, gesturing him off the ice.

Jack skated to the penalty box, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Luke caught his eye from the bench, his expression confused and concerned.

The final straw came in the third period. An opponent chirped him during a faceoff, something innocuous, but it set Jack off. Before he knew it, he was swinging, his gloves hitting the ice as he grabbed the guy by his jersey.

The refs blew the whistle, chaos breaking out around them. Jack barely felt the punches before they were pulling him away, ejecting him from the game.

He sat alone in the locker room, his head in his hands. His knuckles throbbed, his chest heaving as he replayed the fight in his mind.

The door swung open, and Luke stepped in, his skates still on, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What the hell was that, Jack?" Luke demanded, dropping onto the bench across from him.

"Not now, Luke," Jack muttered, not looking up.

"No, now," Luke snapped, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "What's going on with you? You're acting like a complete idiot out there. First penalities, now getting tossed from a game? You're better than this."

Jack's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

"Talk to me, Jack. Is it about Remi?"

The mention of her name felt like another insult to injury. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Stay out of it, Luke."

"Jack--"

"I said stay out of it!" Jack barked, slamming his fist against the bench. The sound echoed through the room, but Luke didn't flinch.

"I'll take that as a yes," Luke said quietly. "What happened?"

Jack stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. "Nothing. Just drop it."

"You're full of shit," Luke shot back, standing now too. "You haven't been yourself for like a week now. You're angry all the time, you're screwing up on the ice, and you can't even look me in the eye."

"Luke--"

"And you know what else?" the youngest Hughes interrupted. "I haven't seen her around the rink lately. She used to be here all the time, hanging out, waiting for you. But now? Nothing. So either you tell me what's going on, or I'm going to have to go Phil and tell him about whatever the hell's been going on between you two."

Jack froze. "You wouldn't."

"Try," Luke said, crossing his arms. "I'm not gonna let you self-destruct over some girl. So tell me the truth."

Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of Luke's words settle over him. Finally, he sank back onto the bench, his head in his hands.

"She was using me," he said quietly, his voice strained. "It was all some stupid plan to piss off Phil. I was just a pawn."

"Jack..."

"I thought she cared about me," Jack continued, his voice breaking. "But it was all fake. Every kiss, every--" He stopped, shaking his head. "God, I'm so fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid," Luke said firmly, getting up to sit beside him. "You just... cared about the wrong person."

Jack laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Well, it doesn't matter now."

Luke placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You don't have to deal with this alone, you know. Whatever happens, I've got your back."

Jack nodded, though the ache in his chest remained.

Every word that Remi texted Jack felt inadequate, like she was trying to patch up a sinking ship with duct tape. She knew she'd screwed up--more than screwed up. She'd hurt someone who didn't deserve it, someone who'd been nothing but good to her.

Her dad was downstairs on the phone, talking loudly about hockey. Probably complaining about something that had happened at the game that night. She hated hearing him talk about hockey even more now--it just made her think of Jack.

She opened her phone, scrolling through Instagram for any content that could help distract her. But it was useless, the Devils account was the first one that came up. It was a picture of the guys hugging after the win. She clicked on the comments and her heart stopped.

Jack had been ejected from the game. She had to find the clip. She turned to Twitter, scrolling until she found it. She watched as he started a pointless fight, throwing his gloves to the ice. The refs blew the whistle and a beyond pissed Jack was escorted off the ice.

"Damn it, Jack," she whispered, wiping the single tear that had fallen onto her phone screen.

"Remi, you have to stop," Talia said through the phone, sitting criss-cross on her bed.

"I can't," Remi replied, pacing her room. "I can't just leave it like this. He--he means too much to me."

"Does he, though?" Talia raised a brow. "Because last time I checked, this was all about pissing your dad off."

Remi stopped, turning to glare at her friend through the screen. "That's how it started. It's not what it is now."

"Really?" Talia challenged, crossing her arms. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're just upset because you got caught."

"That's not true," Remi snapped, her voice rising. "You don't understand. He's--" She stopped, pulling at the roots of her hair. "I care about him, Talia. I--"

"You what?" Talia interrupted, her eyes wide.

Remi hesitated. The words felt too big, too raw, but they were there, clawing their way out.

"I love him," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Talia just blinked, her mouth falling open.

"I didn't mean to," Remi continued, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "But I do. And now he hates me, and it's all my fault."

"Ugh, girl. I wish I could give you the biggest hug... but you really screwed this up, huh?"

"Yeah. Big time."

She stood outside the apartment door, her hands trembling as she knocked. She'd rehearsed what she was going to say with Talia at least a dozen times, but now, standing there, her chest felt tight and her mind went blank.

It had been two weeks since she'd seen Jack, and the silence had been unbearable. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to talk to him, even if it meant facing his anger head-on.

The door opened after a few moments, and Luke appeared, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to immediate hostility when he saw her.

"Hell no," Luke said, his tone flat and unwavering. "He doesn't want to see you."

"Luke, please," Remi begged. "I just need five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"No," Luke said firmly, stepping back like he intended to close the door in her face. "You've done enough. Go home, Remi."

"What's going on?" Jack's voice came from inside the apartment, faint but growing louder as he approached.

"It's nobody," Luke called back, throwing a glare in the girl's direction. "They've got the wrong place."

Remi's heart sank, but before she could say anything, Jack appeared behind his brother, his brow furrowing as he looked past Luke.

The moment their eyes met, Jack's face hardened, his jaw clenching. "You've got be fucking kidding me," he muttered, stepping past Luke to block the doorway.

"Jack," Remi said, her voice trembling. "Please. Just let me explain. I need to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about," Jack replied coldly, crossing his arms. "You made it pretty clear how you feel."

"Jack, come on," Luke interjected, his tone softer but still protective. "You don't have to do this."

Jack held up a hand to silence his brother, his eyes never leaving Remi's. "What could you possibly have to say that I'd want to hear?"

She swallowed hard, shrinking under the weight of his anger. "I know I hurt you," she said quietly. "I know I screwed up. But I need you to hear me out. Please."

Jack stared at her for what felt like hours, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stepped back, his voice sharp as he turned to Luke. "It's fine. I've got this."

Luke hesitated, his face screwing up as he looked between the two of them. "I'll be in my room," he said finally, walking off but not before shooting Remi one more death stare.

Jack stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound impossibly loud in the heavy silence that followed.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a posture that screamed frustration. "You've got five minutes," he said curtly.

Remi took a deep breath, searching her head to find the right words. "I don't even know where to start," she admitted, her voice shaking.

Jack let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "That's a great sign."

"Jack, please," she said. "I know I don't deserve it, but you have to know that I never meant for things to end up like this."

He raised an eyebrow, his anger simmering just below the surface. "Oh, so you accidentally used me to piss off your dad? Is that what you're saying?"

Remi winced. "That's how it started. But it's not what it became. I swear to you, Jack, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Didn't mean to?" he repeated. "Do you even hear yourself? You played me, Remi. You lied to me, over and over again. And for what? To prove a point?"

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You're right. I lied. I was selfish. I was awful. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about my dad and started being about you."

Jack scoffed, turning away from her. "Yeah? And when exactly did that happen? Before or after you told your friends I was just a pawn?"

"I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know when it happened. But it did, Jack. I care about you. I--" She stopped, her throat closing up. "I love you."

Jack froze, his back still turned to her. The silence that followed was deafening, and Remi's chest heaved as she took deep breaths to calm herself.

"You don't get to say that," Jack said finally, his voice low and filled with pain. He turned to face her, his eyes now also glossy. "You don't get to use me, break me, then tell me you love me like it makes it all okay."

Remi took a shaky step forward, her hands clasped like she was begging. "I know it doesn't fix anything," she said. "But it's the truth. I love you, Jack. And I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

He stared at her, his jaw ticking as he tried to process her words. Finally, he let out a long sigh.

"I can't do this right now."

Remi's heart sank, but she nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Jack turned away again, walking toward the hallway without another word. She stod there for a moment, her chest heaving with sobs, before letting herself out.

She'd said what she needed to say, but the bottomless pit in her stomach told her that it wasn't enough.

Remi felt like she was at a school dance with the glittering lights, clinking glasses, and people huddled in groups. Players mingled with donors and fans, their tuxedos adding to the air of sosphistication surrounding the event. Remi stood near the edge of the room, her strapless black dress hugging her figure perfectly. She'd only come because her dad had insisted--demanded, really--after their most recent fight.

"Try not to embarrass me for once," he said, his words like a harsh slap.

So, there she was, a forced smile on her face, a flute of champagne in her hand. She didn't bother hiding her trips to the bar. No one noticed, and even if they did, they wouldn't dare say anything to Phil Bouchard's daughter.

The alcohol warmed her from the inside out, dulling the sharpness of her dad's disapproval. But even with the champagne flowing, she couldn't stop her gaze from darting across the room, searching for him.

She spotted Jack near the far corner, his dark suit fitting him perfectly, his tie slightly loosened as he laughed at something Nico said. Her chest tightened at the sight of him, her fingers gripping the stem of her glass.

She should leave him alone. But the pull was magnetic.

Jack noticed her before she reached him, his smile fading as their eyes met. His posture stiffened, but he didn't move, watching as she approached.

"Hey," she said softly, stopping a few feet away.

"Hey," he replied, his voice guarded.

"What are you drinking?" she gestured to his glass.

"Does it matter?" He looked down at the whiskey in his hand.

Remi winced at the edge in his tone but pressed on. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, well," he said, looking at her champagne flute, "I work for the team. I didn't know you'd be here."

She swallowed hard, her confidence faltering under his cool demeanor. But then she noticed the slight flush on his cheeks, the faint glassiness in his eyes. He wasn't completely sober either.

"I miss you," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Jack's grip on his glass visibly tightened. "Don't."

"I mean it," she insisted. "Jack, I--"

"I'm serious, Remi," he interrupted. "You don't get to prance over here, say you miss me, and expect everything to be okay."

Her chest ached, but the alcohol flowing through her veins made her bold. "I don't expect everything to be okay," she said. "I just--I needed to see you."

Jack sighed. "You think a few words are gonna fix what you did? We've already had this conversation. You think I'm just gonna forget--"

"I love you."

He stared at her, his lips pursed, letting her words hang in the air.

"Say something," she whispered.

Jack shook his head. "You're impossible."

And then he looked around to make sure nobody was watching... and he kissed her.

Their kiss was fiery, weeks of unresolved tension compressed into a single moment. Jack's hands gripped her waist, pulling her tight against him as she squeezed his forearms.

"Come with me," he mumbled against her lips, his voice rough.

The stumbled down a hallway, their steps hurried and uneven. Jack pushed open the door to the bathroom, pulling her inside before locking it behind them.

"Jack," she breathed, her back hitting the counter as his lips found her neck.

"Shut up," he muttered, hands roaming her body as he tried to make up for lost time.

Her dress slipped down her body, his pants hitting the floor as their kisses grew more frantic. All the hurt, all the anger, dissolved into urgency, their bodies together as if they'd been starved of each other.

Remi woke up in her room, her head pounding from the champagne. She sat up, memories of the night flooding back in vivid detail. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of her bathroom rendezvous with Jack. She reached for her phone, and there was already a text waiting for her.

Jack: We need to talk. Call me when you're up

He'd never been one for small talk, and the tone of his text felt heavy, deliberate.

Her fingers hovered over the call button. He answered after two rings.

"Hey."

"About last night--"

"We need to have a serious conversation," he cut her off.

"Oh, um, okay."

"Is your dad home this afternoon? I'll come by later." Before she could even respond, the line went dead.

Whatever Jack had to say, she knew it wasn't going to be easy.

Remi sat on the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. Jack had said he'd come by, and now every passing second felt like an eternity. Her mind raced with what he might say. As soon as there was a knock at the door, she bolted up, straightening her shirt as she walked to the door.

Jack was standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats, his expression serious. He walked past her into the living room, standing near the coffee table, his posture tense.

"About last night... I'm sorry if--"

"Don't," Jack held up his hand. "Don't start with sorry. I've heard that before."

Remi flinched, but she nodded. "Okay. Then... what do you want to say?"

"Last night... it happened so fast. And I don't regret it. But we can't just go back to how things were."

"I don't want that either. I want to fix this. Fix us."

Jack's eyes flashed with hope, but he kept his tone firm. "If we're going to do this, things have to change, Remi. You have to change."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do. This isn't just about what happened. It's about everything. The games, the rebellion, the lying. You can't keep doing things just to piss off your dad or to prove a point."

Remi opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going. "Do you even know what that did to me? Knowing I was just some pawn in whatever battle you're fighting with him?"

"That's not what you are to me. Not anymore."

"Then prove it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean show me that you're serious. Show me that this isn't another game for you. Because I can't go through this again, Remi. I can't keep wondering if I'm enough or if you're just going to throw me under the bus when it's convenient."

Her chest ached at the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he was letting her see. "I'll do whatever it takes, Jack. I swear."

"Then start with being honest. Not just with me, but with your dad. Stop sneaking around, stop playing these games. If you want this to work, it has to be real--all of it."

The idea of facing her dad, of owning up to everything, sent a jolt of fear through her. But as she stared at the man she loved, the weight of his words sank in. If she didn't do this--if she didn't prove she was serious--she'd lose him for good.

"Okay... I'll tell him."

"And no more lies," he added. "No more excuses. If I'm in this, I need to know that you are too."

"I am. Jack, I am."

"Then we'll see."

Remi nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. "I'll prove it to you. I promise."

For the first time since he'd walked in, Jack smiled. "You better."

As he turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at her. "One step at a time, Remi. We'll figure it out."

Phil sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in hand as he scrolled through his tablet, his posture rigid as ever. Remi stood in the doorway, her palms clammy as she steeled herself. Her nerves felt like they were on fire, her hands shaking.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"Dad."

"What is it, Remi?"

She took a deep breath, gripping the back of a chair for support. "I need to tell you something. And I need you to actually listen to me."

He frowned, setting down his tablet. "Go on."

"I'm seeing someone. And before you say anything, I know you're going to be mad, but--"

"Who?" Phil interrupted.

She hesitated, but there was no point in lying. "Jack."

Phil gripped his mug so tightly that Remi thought it might crack from the pressure. "Jack who?"

"You know who."

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You're joking."

"I'm not!" she stood up straight. "I love him."

"Love him? You've lost your goddamn mind, Remi. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I haven't done anything wrong," she retorted. "I'm not a kid, Dad. You don't get to control who I have feelings for."

"This isn't about control," he began to pace the kitchen. "This is about respect--something you clearly don't have for me or my job."

"This has nothing to do with your job!" she threw her hands up.

"It has everything to do with my job!" Phil barked, slamming his hand down on the table. "I trusted Jack. I treated him like a professional, and he goes behind my back to... to--"

"To care about your daughter? Yeah, real betrayal there."

Phil pointed a finger at her, his voice deadly calm now. "This ends today. You're done seeing him."

"You can't stop me," she said defiantly, though her voice wavered.

"Watch me. You're banned from games, practices, and anything to do with this team. And Jack--he's going to learn what happens when you cross a line."

Her stomach dropped. "You can't punish him for this," she panicked.

"Like hell I can't! If he wants to act like an amateur, he can work twice as hard to prove he still deserves his spot."

Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You're being unfair."

"I'm being a father. And you're too young to understand what that means."

"I'm not a child," she whispered.

"Then stop acting like one."

True to his word, Phil enforced his ban swiftly. The next morning, security at the rink had a list with her name on it, and when she tried to text Jack about meeting him after practice, he replied curtly.

Jack: Can't

Remi: why not? :(

Jack: Your dad's got us running drills nonstop. I'm wiped

Remi: i'm sorry, j. this is all my fault

The three little bubbles appeared, then disappeared. No reply came.

Remi felt trapped, helpless. Her dad's wrath was affecting not just, but Jack as well. And that hurt almost as much as not being able to see him.

Jack stood on the ice, his legs burning as Phil barked orders from the bench. It was their third round of line rushes, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to finish.

"Move faster, Hughes!" Phil yelled. "You think you're tired? You think the other team's gonna care? Again!"

Jack bit down hard on his tongue, forcing his body to keep moving. He could feel his teammates' eyes on him, some confused, others sympathetic. But none of them dared to ask what was happening.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" Luke asked, collapsing onto the bench next to his brother.

Jack shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Why's Phil riding you harder than anyone else? What's going on?"

Jack didn't answer, staring at his shaking hands.

"It's about her, isn't it?"

Jack still didn't speak.

"Jack, I get it. You really like her. She's stunning and super sweet. But this thing with her and Phil? It's a disaster waiting to happen."

"You think I don't know that?" Jack snapped, finally looking up at him. "You think I'm not already dealing with it?"

Luke held up his hands in surrender. "Alright. Just... don't let him break you over her, okay?"

Silence.

Phil had always been a disciplinarian, but lately, his need to control his daughter felt suffocating. She felt it in the way he scrutinized her every move, every conversation.

The final straw came one evening when he caught her lingering outside the rink after practice, talking to Luke.

"Hand it over," he demanded when they arrived home, his hand outstretched.

Remi frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Your phone. I'm not an idiot, Remi. You think I don't know you're still talking to him? You're done. Give it to me."

"Dad, this is ridiculous--"

"Now!"

Reluctantly, she handed him her phone, her stomach sinking as he walked away with it.

Deprived of her usual means of communication, Remi turned to one of the few people who could help her: Luke.

It started with a simple note slipped into his car window, written hastily on a scrap of notebook paper.

Luke,

Please get this to Jack. I need him to know I'm not ghosting him.

Luke, initially hesitant, agreed after some convincing from Jack, who pleaded with his younger brother to help them stay in touch.

From then on, he became their unofficial carrier pigeon.

He delivered folded notes in his hockey bag. He passed them off casually after practice, muttering "You dropped this" to avoid suspicion. Once, he even hid a letter in a water bottle, smuggling it onto the bench during a game.

The notes became their lifeline, filled with promises, apologies, and small updates:

Remi, I miss you. Today was brutal. Your dad's riding me harder than ever, but thinking about your little notes makes it bearable.

Jack, I miss you too. I wish I could be there to make things easier. This is such bullshit.

One evening, Phil barged into Remi's room unannounced, his expression stormy. "Why've you been talking to Luke?"

She barely had time to react before he noticed the small stack of papers peeking out from beneath her pillow.

"What's this?" he snatched them before she could stop him.

"Dad, don't--"

But it was too late. His face turned bright red as he read the letters, steam practically coming from his ears.

"Unbelievable! You've been sneaking around still! And using one of my other players to do it? Do you have any idea how fucking stupid this is?"

"It's not stupid! I care about him."

He held up one of the letters. "You care about him? Enough to sleep with him, apparently."

Her face flushed, her heart pounding.

"You didn't think I'd find out? I continue to give Jack a shot because I thought he had potential. That he's professional. Turns out, he's just as reckless as you are!"

The next practice was brutal. Jack knew something was wrong the moment he stepped onto the ice. Phil barely looked at him, but his commands were clipped, his critiques harsher than ever.

When the starting lineup was announced, Jack's name was glaringly absent.

"Coach," he said after practice, jogging to catch up with Phil in the hallway. "What's going on? Why am I not playing?"

Phil turned to him, his expression cold. "Disciplinary reasons," he said like it was the simplest thing ever.

"I... I haven't done anything wrong."

"Oh, haven't you? I trusted you, Jack. You're an alternate captain. I'm here to help you, and this is how you repay me? By crosing every line I've set?"

"With all due respect, sir, my personal life doesn't affect my performance on the ice."

"It does when it distracts you and causes chaos within the team. You're lucky I haven't gone to the GM."

That night, Remi was lying in her bed, when a faint tapping sound drew her attention. She frowned, pulling off her warm covers and walking to the window.

Jack was standing in the backyard, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Remi!" he hissed.

Her heart leapt to her throat, and she quickly opened the window. "What are you doing here?"

"Let me in," he said, gesturing toward the tree by her window.

She hesitated for a second before nodding. Jack climbed up with surprising ease, swinging himself onto the ledge before stepping into her room.

He was breathless, his hair a mess. "Your dad's lost his fucking mind. He's cutting my ice time, and he's blaming me for everything."

"Jack, I'm so sorry--"

"I don't care about me," his eyes searched hers. "I care about us. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Rem. He's making my life a living hell."

"We'll figure it out. I promise."

"Remi! Is there someone in there?"

She froze, the voice coming from the other side of her bedroom door, heavy with suspicion.

"Remi?" he asked again. "What's going on in there?"

"Under the bed," she whispered urgently, shoving him toward the narrow space.

"Seriously?" he hissed, his voice incredulous.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked, already grabbing the edge of the duvet to shield the gap.

Jack didn't argue any further, dropping to his knees and sliding under the bed just as her doorknob jiggled.

The door creaked open, and her dad did a quick sweep of the room. "What's going on in here? Is everything okay?"

"Nothing," her voice was too quick, too high-pitched. "Why are you even in here?"

"I... I thought I heard voices."

"From the TV," she nodded to her laptop on her bed, where Netflix played quietly. She gestured toward it dramatically. "See? I couldn't sleep, so I turned something on."

Phil pulled her into a hug, smoothing down her messy bed hair. "You've been sneaking around, Remi. If you're hiding something--"

She pulled away. "I'm not. I'm trying to relax. You can't just barge in every time you get paranoid."

"Keep it down," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And don't test me, kid. You're already on thin, thin ice."

The moment his footsteps retreated back down the hallway, she bent down to lift the duvet.

"Jack," she whispered. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, sliding out from under the bed. His face was flushed and his hair even messier than before. "That was fun."

She giggled. "Sorry, babe."

"You're good under pressure, I'll give you that."

"Not bad yourself," she scrunched up her face as he pressed a kiss to her nose.

"So..."

"What do we do next? Run away? Get me a burner phone and live off the grid?"

Jack laughed despite himself. "I don't know. I just... I'm not gonna lose you, Rem."

"You won't. I love you, Jack."

"I love you more."

"We've got this."

"I hope you're right."

Another fight with Phil had left Remi rattled, and she'd stormed out of the house to clear her head. A walk through the neigbourhood usually helped, but the slippery sidewalk--coated with frost--proved to be dangerous when walking as fast as she was.

Her foot slipped from under her as she turned the corner, her arms flailing as she tried to keep her balance. Instead, she went down hard, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her as she hit the pavement.

"Shit," she hissed, clutching her leg. The sharp, stabbing pain told her something was wrong, and she felt like puking at the sight of her already swelling ankle.

She fumbled for her phone, but of course, it wasn't there. Her dad still had it, leaving her with no way to call for help.

The sound of a car engine approaching made her look up, and relief flooded her when she recognized Jack's car pulling to a stop.

"Remi?" his face screwed up as he cut the engine.

"Jack," she gasped, tears falling as he crouched beside her.

"What happened?" he asked, examining her ankle.

"I slipped. I think it's sprained? I'm... I'm not really sure."

Jack didn't hesitate. He slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her effortlessly. "I've got you, baby."

He stayed by her side the entire time, his hand never leaving hers as they waited for a doctor in the ER. He helped fill out paperwork, fetched water when she needed it, and even cracked a few horrible jokes to distract her from the pain.

When the doctor confirmed it was a pretty bad sprain, Jack insisted on picking up her medication and made sure she had crutches before they left. By the time they got back to her house, night had fallen. He helped her inside, careful with every step as he guided her to the couch.

"You don't have to say," she mumbled sleepily, though she didn't mean it.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied firmly, adjusting the ice pack on her foot.

Their peace was broken by the door slamming shut. Phil's heavy footsteps entered the living room, his face scrunched up as soon as he saw Jack sitting there.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Remi winced, trying to push herself up straighter. "Dad, I--"

"You have some nerve," Phil snapped, his glare fixed on Jack. "I told you to stay away from her."

Jack stood, hands clenched at his sides. "She was hurt. She needed help."

"And that gave you the right to defy me? You've disrespected me and the team time and time again, Hughes."

"Dad, stop! He didn't do anything wrong! I fell, and he was there. If it wasn't for Jack, I'd probably still be sitting on the sidewalk."

Phil's gaze flickered to her, his face softening slightly, before he turned back to Jack. "You're off the team. Effective immediately."

"Dad, no!"

"Wait. You can bench me, cut my ice time, try to kick me off the team... but that's not going to change how I feel about her."

Phil narrowed his eyes, but Jack didn't falter.

"I care about her. More than anything. And I know you hate this, but I'm not going to walk away just because it's inconvenient for you. I love her too much for that."

Phil sighed, running a hand over his face. "You're not going anywhere tonight."

Jack blinked, caught completely off guard. "Sir?"

"She's injured," he said gruffly. "Someone has to keep an eye on her. You're already here--might as well make yourself useful."

"Dad--"

"I'm not saying I approve," he held up a hand. "But... maybe I've been a bit too harsh."

Jack's days became a balancing act. Mornings were for practices, where he pushed himself harder than ever, determined to prove to Phil--and himself--that he could handle the demands of both his hockey career and his personal life. Evenings were for Remi, where he'd show up at the house with groceries, helping her navigate her life on crutches.

Phi, ever watchful, made his presence known whenever Jack was around.

"Door stays open," he'd said the second night Jack came to help. He leaned against the doorframe, looking between the two young adults. "And no funny business."

"Yes sir," Jack replied, biting back a smile as he helped Remi prop up her injured leg on a pillow.

"And I meant it. No going into the bathroom together, no sneaking around, no--"

"Dad, we get it," Remi rolled her eyes. "We're not thirteen."

Phil shot her a look, but didn't say anything more.

Jack leaned in with a grin. "Well, that went better than expected."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Don't get too comfortable. He's probably listening right now."

Jack chuckled but kept his hands firmly on the heating pad he was adjusting on her ankle.

Phil observed them quietly for the next week or so. One evening, he sat in the living room, pretending to read a book while Jack and Remi played cards at the kitchen table. He glanced up occasionally, watching as they laughed and teased each other, the room filled with an ease he hadn't seen in his daughter in... years.

"Jack," she giggled. "You're terrible at this game."

"I'm letting you win because you're injured," Jack shot back with a smirk.

"Oh please," she scoffed, re-shuffling the deck. "You're just bad."

Phil watched as Jack leaned in, whispering something that made Remi burst into laughter, her cheeks glowing.

It hit him then--how much Jack truly scared for her. The way he looked at her, like she was the most important thing in the room. The way he balanced his career and her injury without a single complaint. The way Remi never stopped smiling around him.

He sighed, setting down his book. "Jack," he called, drawing their attention.

"Yes, sir?"

Phil cleared his throat, the words getting stuck halfway. "You... you've been good to her."

Jack's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't make me regret saying that."

His acceptance just grew from there, marked by small moments of trust and understanding. Though he kept his rules in place--like the open door policy and no PDA--he began to soften, joining them for dinner occasionally or offering Jack advice after games.

One day, after a particularly good win, Phil even clapped Jack on the back, a rare gesture of approval. "You played well out there," he said, his tone almost warm.

Jack grinned. "Thanks, Coach."

And while it wasn't a happily-ever-after, it was a start.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine

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xinganhao · 1 day ago

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✏️ sociology major!junhui x reader.

your roommate junhui has a habit of using his major on you ✶ part of my svt university milestone event

⤿ friendship, fluff, and they were roommates!!!, an academic paper for the hc. more content under the cut. ♡⸝⸝ prompt from @ore-pheus!

The Sociology of Love, Julia Carter Annotations by Wen Junhui

Love is interesting sociologically for so many reasons... It is a word that is used prolifically to mean so much, which means it is incredibly difficult to define and study. Love is interesting because it is everywhere and has a significant impact on our culture, society and lives, and yet we can know relatively little about what it actually means. Love is not something we can ‘know’- we have to investigate how it is represented socially and culturally. (Carter, 2015)

ANNOTATION: Carter positions love as an all-encompassing yet unknowable emotion. At the risk of sounding cocky, I don't think that love is particularly difficult to understand or find. This is simply because of recognition.

I recognize love. It's in the care and consideration of my parents. It's in the brotherhood of my friendships. It's in my roommate, who tolerates my incessant questions, who lets me get away with almost everything, whose fondness for me is sometimes more than what I deserve.

Love is everywhere. Carter is correct in that regard. It's simply a matter of seeing it, of calling it as it is, of spelling it out. Otherwise, we might spend the rest of our lives trying to justify our cowardice behind the guise of love as a 'mystery'.

So why does love have such power? Whether a private emotion, organising institution, normative expression, commodity, societal glue or legitimating ideology, love is clearly an important concept to understand and interrogate in modern society. (Carter, 2015)

ANNOTATION: Sociologically, the word 'power' is thrown around too lightly. Carter's implication that love is equivalent to power can be dangerous, because I am of the firm belief that it's not the emotion that wields the power; it's the person.

Love, on its own, is just an intense feeling of deep affection. The question then because: What do people in love do? Some shy away from it. Some run. I've found myself taking it day by day. Love has me learning. Love has me listening. Whether I act on it or not is indicative of my own power, and not the power the emotion may/may not have over me.

There's discussion to be made about how love can render one 'powerless', but it all falls on the individual. We are only as good as the loves that we act on.

There was, however, evidence from my research to support the normative notion that love should be romantic, once-occurring and lifelong... suggesting that ‘real’ love should only be experienced once and this should not come to an end. (Carter, 2015)

ANNOTATION: Once again, I find myself unable to agree with Carter's findings. Love as a lifelong feeling or commitment is understandable, but the notion of it being 'once-occurring' is significantly flawed on two counts. First, there is the manner of which it discounts romantic relationships and how they shape how we are. To love and lose someone does not mean you loved them any less or, in this case, did not love them at all to begin with. It is a disservice to downplay our own emotions just to subscribe to the credo of a 'one true love'.

Alternatively: I find myself falling in love with the same person over, and over, and over again. I have fallen in love with them on our walks home. I have fallen in love with them first thing in the morning, when they're bleary-eyed and can barely finish brushing their teeth. I have fallen in love with them even when there was distance between us— on long breaks, where they're the person I think of during the first snow of the year.

And so Carter is only half-right. Love is romantic. Love can be lifelong. But it has not happened to me only once.

... love has become a quiet, private project for couples in a society that worships coupledom and romance. (Carter, 2015)

ANNOTATION: While I have spent majority of this paper arguing against Carter's sociological view of love, I find myself wholly agreeing with her at least on this point. I'm often described as an outgoing and loud individual. For the most part, I thought that should I ever encounter romance, I would view it the same way.

But I've found love in the quiet moments. Bowls of breakfast cereal. Midnight trips to the convenience store. A shitty Netflix romcom playing in the background as the two of us cram essays.

If this love is only ever mine, ours— if no one else is ever made privy to our shared affection and all the rituals that come with it— then so be it. It will be enough for me. This will be more than enough for me.

#junhui x reader #jun x reader #jun smau #junhui smau #jun imagines #junhui imagines #jun fluff #junhui fluff #── ᵎᵎ ✦ milestone event: svt uni #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt smau #seventeen smau #[ OH. OH THIS BEAT ME UP ]#[ 'any plans of coming home TO ME' and i blacked out ]#[ i miss junhui so bad. bring him back to me please pelase please ]

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livingsurreal · 2 days ago

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More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it. He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

#emmrich #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #emmrich meta post #meta post #character study #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #da #datv #dav

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lupinqs · 2 days ago

Text

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ━━ Future In Our Hands

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.3K

☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (fingering—p giving, morning sex)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: well… that’s it. my first baby all grown up. i actually cannot believe it’s over yall, genuinely. i love all of you so much, i love dani so much, i love dani and paige so much—like how’re we supposed to say goodbye…. anyways thank you all for your support on this fic, take me to church will always, always have a special place in my heart. ALSO! i’m planing to write an epilogue, so i want you guys to send in some ideas of what you might wanna see in that!! i love you all so much, onto the next 🫡

JUST LIKE DANI thought they’d be, things are different now—but also so much better. After leaving her father’s house, she stayed with the Bueckers for a few weeks. They were kind, welcoming, and unwaveringly supportive, but Dani knew it couldn’t last forever. Paige’s family has their own lives, and—no matter how much they told her she wasn’t—Dani didn’t want to intrude. So when her Aunt Julia offered her a place, Dani accepted, moving into her aunt’s modest apartment just outside the city.

It’s been over a month now, and things are good—really good. Julia and Dani have grown close, almost like they’re making up for lost time. Dani feels lighter in this space, unburdened by judgment or fear. And then there’s Grey, Julia’s son. The baby has taken to Dani in a way that’s mutual and immediate; his face lights up every time she walks into the room, and Dani finds herself softening in his presence in ways she never thought possible. For the first time in years, she feels like she belongs somewhere.

The alarm on Dani’s phone blares, slicing through the comfortable silence of her new bedroom. She groans, reaching blindly to shut it off, and Paige groans along with her. Dani’s hand finds the phone, and she presses the button with more force than necessary, silencing the obnoxious buzz. The room goes quiet again, but it doesn’t last long.

Behind her, Paige stirs, nuzzling closer until her face is buried against Dani’s neck. Her arms tighten around Dani’s waist, one hand slipping beneath the hem of Dani’s sweatshirt to rest warm and solid against her bare stomach.

Dani lets out a breath, feeling Paige’s slow, steady breathing against her skin. “We gotta get up,” she murmurs, though the words lack any real urgency.

Paige responds by shaking her head, her voice muffled. “Noooo. Just a few more minutes.”

Dani huffs out a quiet laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting despite herself. “P…”

But before she can say more, Paige groans dramatically and shifts her weight, rolling fully on top of Dani. She’s warm, all long limbs and lazy strength, her hands sliding up Dani’s sides as she tucks her face against Dani’s neck again. Her lips brush against the sensitive skin there, leaving soft, barely-there kisses that make Dani’s heart stumble in her chest.

Dani sighs, her hands coming up to rest on Paige’s hips. “Paige, we’re graduating in a couple hours.”

Paige makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh, finally lifting her head to look down at Dani. Her hair is a mess, her eyes half-lidded with sleep, but she’s smiling in that lopsided way that always makes Dani’s stomach flip.

“What time is it?” Paige asks, her voice scratchy and low.

“9:30,” Dani says, trying to keep her tone firm.

Paige scoffs. “We ain’t gotta be there ‘til 11:30. We got time.”

Before Dani can respond, Paige leans down, her lips brushing against Dani’s in a kiss that’s soft and lingering at first. Dani melts into it instinctively, her hands sliding up Paige’s back, but it doesn’t stay soft for long.

The kiss deepens, shedding its softness in favor of something needier, hungrier. Dani feels Paige’s weight pressing down on her, grounding her in the moment, the exhaustion they’d both been clinging to dissipating like mist under the heat building between them. Paige tilts her head to angle the kiss just right, her lips sliding against Dani’s with purpose. There’s nothing rushed about it, but there’s an urgency to the way Paige grips Dani’s waist, her fingers splaying against bare skin like she’s memorizing the shape of her.

And then Paige shifts her hips just so, grinding down in a way that steals the breath from Dani’s lungs. Dani gasps against Paige’s lips, her fingers digging into Paige’s shoulders, and she feels rather than hears the soft hum of satisfaction Paige makes in response.

It’s just enough to spark something deep inside her, enough for her body to react instinctively. Dani’s hips buck up to meet Paige’s, the friction making her head spin, and before she knows it, her arms are around Paige’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer. Paige adjusts, settling fully between Dani’s legs, her weight a warm and steady pressure that has Dani’s pulse thrumming wildly.

The hand Paige had been using to grip Dani’s waist slides up, her palm skimming the curve of Dani’s side and brushing just under the swell of her chest. It’s light, barely there, but it sends a shiver coursing through Dani all the same. Paige feels it—of course she does—and her lips curl into a smirk against Dani’s mouth before she dips her head to trail kisses along Dani’s jaw, her breath hot against sensitive skin.

“P…” Dani breathes, her voice shaky.

Paige doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. Her lips press against the spot just below Dani’s ear, lingering long enough to make Dani squirm beneath her. “Hmm?” Paige hums, her tone teasing, almost lazy, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to Dani.

“Paige,” Dani tries again, her hands sliding up to bury themselves in Paige’s messy blonde hair. She tugs lightly, just enough to make Paige lift her head and meet her gaze. Paige’s eyes are heavy-lidded, her pupils blown wide, and the sight sends another jolt of heat through Dani.

“We’re—” Dani swallows hard, trying to focus, but it’s almost impossible with Paige looking at her like that, with Paige’s hand still skimming her side, her hips still pressed so perfectly against Dani’s. “We’re gonna be late,” she manages, though it comes out far weaker than she intended.

Paige grins, the kind of grin that’s all mischief and affection rolled into one. “We got time,” she says, her voice low and certain. And then she’s insistently reconnecting their mouths, lips sliding together perfectly, teeth clashing just slightly. Dani’s eyes flutter shut as she continues kissing the blonde, feeling Paige’s hands begin to trail downward. They slide along Dani’s stomach, tracing slow circles on her skin, almost teasing. It makes Dani squirm a little until Paige’s fingers brush along the waistband of the pair of Paige’s basketball shorts Dani wore to bed.

Without Paige even asking anything, Dani’s nodding against her, hips shifting. They’re on a time crunch, so if they’re gonna do this, they gotta do it fast. Paige grins against Dani’s lips—probably at her eagerness—before sliding her fingers under the shorts and Dani’s panties in one go.

Dani gasps just slightly as Paige’s fingers reach for her clit, the blonde humming against her lips as she begins to circle the bud. Paige’s mouth disconnects from Dani’s, her lips skimming over her jawline and along her neck. “Mmm,” she hums against Dani’s ear. “So wet, Dan.”

Dani feels her cheeks heat at the words, heat flushing through her face down to her core. She whimpers a little at Paige’s slow circling of her clit, bucking her hips enough to let her know she needs more. Paige understands immediately, and then two of her fingers are sliding inside Dani, the slickness of her making the motion almost effortless. The sound that follows is, indeed, sinful—the obscene wet noises filling the otherwise quiet room, making Dani’s stomach tighten with a renewed wave of arousal.

Paige groans a little, pulling back from Dani’s neck. She grabs at the brunette’s shorts with her free hand, pushing them down so she can see her fingers working, eyes locking onto her digits moving in and out of Dani’s cunt and the way Dani’s body arches up into her. Dani watches Paige watch, catching the blonde bite her lip, eyes almost glazing over as her fingers slide inside Dani.

It makes Dani whimper, her hips instinctively pushing back against Paige’s fingers. “Mmph… please…” she mumbles, not really sure what she’s begging for, but the need in her tone seems to spur Paige on.

Paige responds immediately, thrusting her fingers deeper, curling them just enough to hit that spongy spot inside Dani that makes her gasp loudly. Dani feels Paige’s free hand move back up her body, under her sweatshirt to squeeze at her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. Paige’s lips find Dani’s neck again, too, biting down lightly before sucking a mark into her skin.

Dani cries out a little at the sensation, her body trembling as the pleasure begins to overwhelm her. “God, P,” she moans, voice ragged.

She feels Paige grin against her neck once more, her fingers moving faster now, her thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles back on her clit. “Like that?” Paige whispers, breath hot against Dani’s skin.

Dani just nods, her breath hitching as she struggles to respond. “Yeah,” she finally manages to gasp out, her hips moving in time with Paige’s fingers. “Just like that.”

Dani bites down onto her lip hard, probably enough to draw blood, keeping herself in check because she has absolutely no interest in her aunt hearing her moan Paige’s name. Paige’s fingers are just relentless as they thrust in and out, the wet sounds between them growing louder and more obscene with every second. Dani feels Paige moan against her neck and that, along with the curling of Paige’s fingers, has Dani’s brows furrowing together, eyes scrunching closed, her whole body tightening.

“’M close,” Dani whimpers breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper as her nails dig into Paige’s back.

Dani feels Paige’s fingers press even harder at her words, scissoring inside her, angling them just right. “Come on, Dan,” Paige encourages. “Wanna feel it.”

That‘a all it seems to take. With a muffled moan, Dani’s body goes taut, her muscles contracting around Paige’s fingers as she cums hard, her hips bucking as waves of pleasure crash over her. Paige holds her tightly, her fingers slowing just enough to guide Dani through her orgasm, her lips still pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“Fuck,” Dani gasps, her body finally going limp as she collapses back against the mattress, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.

Paige smirks down at her, slipping her fingers out. Paige presses a gentle kiss to Dani’s jaw, then her lips, then her nose, then the spot between her eyebrows before pulling back so she’s eye-to-eye with the girl. “Now it’s time to get up,” she says, cheesing.

Dani rolls her eyes, slapping at Paige’s arm lightly. “Shut up.”

THE FINAL APPLAUSE feels like it echoes forever, reverberating around the crowded football field. Dani sits there in the plastic chair, the edges of the graduation gown stiff against her arms, her cap threatening to slip off her head. She doesn’t move. Around her, classmates are already standing, hugging, and tossing their caps into the air, but Dani feels rooted in place.

It’s over.

Her childhood—whatever was left of it—has officially ended.

That’s the only thought looping in her head. The years she spent on cramped bleachers, in loud cafeterias, on basketball courts that smelled like old wood and sweat—all of it is behind her now. Her chest feels heavy with something she can’t quite name. Relief? Sadness? Fear? She shakes it off and stands, taking a deep breath that doesn’t fill her lungs the way she wants it to.

When the crowd begins to disperse, she finally spots Paige a few rows over, standing tall and blonde and unmistakable in her blue gown. Thaliah is next to her, smirking as she bats Paige’s hands away from the crooked cap on her head. Dani weaves through the sea of gowns, her own steps feeling distant and mechanical. But when she reaches them, her grin comes naturally.

“Look at us,” Thaliah says, throwing her arms around both Dani and Paige, drawing them into a three-person hug. Her grin is wide. “All grown up!”

Dani chuckles, pulling back just enough to breathe. “Finally free,” she agrees, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Thaliah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, free to do what? Work? Be an adult? Ugh.”

Dani doesn’t answer because her eyes are drawn to Paige, who’s blinking quickly, her lashes wet. Dani’s smile softens as she takes in the way Paige’s lower lip wobbles just slightly before she sucks it between her teeth.

“Aww, babe,” Dani says, her voice teasing but fond. She steps closer, brushing her thumb under Paige’s eye to catch a tear before it can fall.

“I’m not crying,” Paige says immediately, sniffing and straightening her shoulders like she can will the emotion away.

“You’re totally crying,” Thaliah chimes in, her grin wicked. “Somebody get a camera!”

Paige narrows her eyes. “I ain’t crying!”

“You are,” Dani teases, her hand lingering against Paige’s cheek before letting it fall back to her side.

“Shut up,” Paige mutters, but the corner of her mouth betrays her with a twitch of a smile.

The three of them laugh then, the kind of laughter that feels bigger than the moment. It’s a release, a shared acknowledgment of everything they’ve been through together and everything that’s ahead of them. Dani lets it wash over her, lets herself feel the warmth of it as they shuffle out into the packed hallway.

The noise is overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera flashes and the occasional squeal from someone who’s just spotted their family. Dani’s chest tightens briefly, but she shakes it off. This is supposed to be a happy day. She forces herself to focus on the here and now.

“Alright, I’m off,” Thaliah announces, clapping them both on the shoulder. “If I don’t get to my mom soon, she’s gonna start yelling my full name in front of everyone, and we can’t have that.” She gives the pair one last grin before disappearing through the crowd.

Paige stays close as they navigate through the throng of people, her hand brushing Dani’s back as they walk. Dani can feel the slight tremor in Paige’s energy, the kind that only comes when Paige is overwhelmed, but she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she nudges Paige gently with her elbow, and Paige gives her a grateful smile.

They find Paige’s family first. Her mom is the first person Dani notices, standing near the bleachers with a wide smile and arms open. Lauren, Ryan, and Drew are bouncing on their toes, waving furiously when they spot Paige. Bob is chatting animatedly with Paige’s grandparents, and her aunt is juggling a camera and a gift bag with tissue paper spilling out the top.

“Paige!” Lauren squeals, launching herself at her older sister the second she’s within reach. Paige laughs, catching her and spinning her around before setting her down. Ryan and Drew both aren’t far behind, wrapping their arms around Paige’s waist and clinging like a little koalas.

Dani watches it all unfold, a small smile tugging at her lips. It’s a lot, seeing all of them there, so many people who love Paige and want to celebrate her. A small pang settles in her chest, but she pushes it aside quickly.

She doesn’t have to look far for her own family. Julia is standing just a few feet away, holding baby Grey on her hip, her smile soft and full of pride. Dani’s grandparents are beside her, their expressions warm and welcoming. It’s quieter, simpler, but no less meaningful.

Julia’s arms are open before Dani even realizes she’s moving, and she steps into the hug, letting herself sink into the familiarity of it. “I’m so proud of you, Dani,” Julia whispers into her ear, her voice thick with emotion.

The words hit harder than Dani expects, her throat tightening as she blinks rapidly, willing herself not to cry. She pulls back after a moment, forcing a smile as she meets Julia’s gaze. “Thanks,” she says, her voice a little hoarse.

Grey babbles something unintelligible, reaching for Dani with chubby hands, and she can’t help but laugh as she takes him into her arms. “Hey, buddy,” she murmurs, bouncing him slightly. He giggles, his tiny hands grabbing at the tassel on her cap.

Her grandparents step forward next, wrapping her in hugs that smell like lavender and old books, murmuring their congratulations with quiet pride. Dani’s smile feels a little steadier now, a little more natural.

It’s not perfect. It’s not what she used to imagine this day would look like. There’s an emptiness where her parents should be, a hollow ache she tries not to focus on. But looking at Julia’s warm smile, Grey’s wide eyes, and her grandparents’ unwavering support, she decides it’s enough.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Dani turns to find Bob, Paige’s dad, leaning in for a hug. His grin is kind and effortless, the kind that makes Dani feel seen, like she belongs. She melts into the embrace, letting him clap her on the back as she smiles against his shoulder.

“Look at you!” he exclaims as they pull back. “High school graduate. You’ve done good, Dan.”

Her grin widens. Bob’s probably the closest thing she has to a dad these days, and she’s grateful for how steady he’s always been, how he’s never made her feel out of place. “Thanks, Bob.”

Before she can say more, Amy swoops in, wrapping Dani in a tight hug that smells like fresh laundry and perfume. “Aw, Dani, all grown up!” Amy squeals, pulling back to hold Dani by the shoulders and give her a good once-over. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Dani laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Please don’t cry, Amy. Paige’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Amy laughs, her hands squeezing Dani’s shoulders briefly before she lets go. “No promises.”

Dani makes her way down the line, crouching slightly to hug Paige’s little siblings. Lauren and Ryan and Drew all beam at her, their arms wrapping around her tightly. Drew leans into her side, his small voice eager as he says, “You’re coming to the cookout after, right?”

“Of course,” Dani says, ruffling his hair before pulling Lauren in for a quick squeeze. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

When she stands, she feels a hand slide into hers, warm and familiar. Paige is there, her blue eyes soft as she looks at Dani, squeezing her hand gently. “Okay,” Amy says suddenly, clapping her hands together like she’s directing a photoshoot. “I need pictures!”

Paige groans, loud and exaggerated, her head tilting back like this is the most torturous request in the world. “Mom, come on—”

“No complaints!” Amy cuts her off, already holding up her phone. “This is a big day! Paige, Dani, come on.”

Paige rolls her eyes but grins as she tugs Dani closer by the hand. Dani follows easily, letting Paige guide her until they’re standing shoulder to shoulder. Paige’s arm wraps around her waist, her hand resting lightly on Dani’s hip, and Dani lets her own hand settle comfortably against Paige’s back. They tilt their heads together instinctively, their smiles wide and natural as the first flash goes off.

One photo turns into three, then four, and Dani quickly loses track of how many cameras are aimed at them. Both of Paige’s parents are taking pictures, as are their grandparents, Julia, and Paige’s aunt. It feels like every angle is covered, and Dani doesn’t even know where to look at this point.

“Oh, wait, wait!” Julia exclaims suddenly, waving her free hand while balancing Grey on her hip. “Take one showing the caps!”

Dani and Paige both blink at her, confused for a moment before they realize what she means. “Oh!” Paige says, reaching up to tug her cap off. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dani does the same, pulling her cap off and holding it in her hands. When she glances over at Paige, she can’t help but laugh. “Ooh, cap head,” she teases, nodding toward Paige’s hair, which is flattened awkwardly where the cap had been.

Paige narrows her eyes at her, a mock glare that doesn’t last long. “Fix it.”

“Please,” Dani corrects, smirking as she leans in to do just that—fix the mess. Her fingers comb through the strands of blonde until Paige’s hair looks normal again. Paige huffs but doesn’t pull away, her lips twitching upward in the smallest smile.

When Dani’s satisfied, she steps back, only to feel Paige’s hand brushing against her own hair. “Hang on,” Paige mutters, her fingers quick and sure as they smooth out Dani’s own cap-induced disaster.

Once they’ve both deemed each other photo-ready, they angle their caps toward the cameras, holding them up so the bedazzled designs are clearly visible. UConn logos sparkle under the sun, the rhinestones they painstakingly glued on last night catching every flash.

“Go Huskies!” Amy cheers from behind the phone, her voice bright with pride as the camera clicks again.

Dani feels her grin stretch impossibly wider. In that moment, she forgets about the ache in her chest, the absence of her parents, the uncertainty of the future. All she feels is this—Paige’s arm warm around her waist, their friends and family laughing and cheering, and the glimmer of the UConn logos they’ll carry with them into the next chapter of their lives.

THE NIGHT feels heavy in the best way—cool air brushing against Paige’s skin, her hoodie soft against her arms, and the low hum of cicadas filling the spaces between quiet laughter. It’s dark now, the kind of dark that stretches across the park like a blanket, broken only by the dim glow of the streetlamp by the parking lot and the stars above. The four of them—Paige, Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen—are settled into their usual spots at the park they’ve claimed since what feels like forever. The basketball court has cracks they know like the backs of their hands, the picnic table has their initials carved into the wood, and everything about it feels like home.

Paige leans against the basketball hoop, dribbling lazily as Jalen sets up for a halfhearted shot. He misses—terribly—and Paige laughs, grabbing the rebound and tossing the ball back to him. “Bro,” she teases, “you might need to rethink that NBA dream.”

Jalen points at her, mock offended. “You laugh now, but when I’m in the league, you’re not getting courtside tickets.”

“Good,” Paige fires back with a grin. “I’ll be too busy winning nattys at UConn anyway.”

The words feel easy, automatic, but they carry a weight she’s only just starting to realize. UConn. Storrs. It’s been this abstract, glittering thing for so long, but now it’s real—a fresh start, a new chapter. Summer sessions start in just a couple weeks. Basketball in the basketball capital of the world. And Dani. Dani will be there too.

She glances toward the picnic table, where Dani’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Thaliah, both of them half-focused on Thaliah’s phone. Milkshakes sit abandoned on the table, sweating in the humid air, and Dani’s curled hair falls into her face as she leans closer to the screen. Paige watches her for a moment, her grin softening into something quieter.

“Aye,” Jalen says, nudging Paige with his elbow and smirking a little. “You good?”

“Hm?” Paige blinks, startled out of her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good.” She spins the basketball once, catching it easily. “Just thinking about how much better I am than you.”

Jalen groans. “Aight, thin ice, Bueckers.”

Paige laughs, tossing the ball his way before walking toward the table, her curiosity piqued by whatever has Dani and Thaliah so engrossed. She hops up onto the bench beside Dani, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “What’s so fascinating?”

Thaliah glances up briefly, holding her phone out so Paige can see. “My roommate at UCLA,” she says, scrolling through an Instagram profile of a girl with tanned skin and lots of beach photos. “She’s already from Cali, so.”

“Hmm,” Paige hums, tilting her head as she studies the photos. “She seems chill.”

“I think so too,” Dani agrees.

Thaliah nods. “Yeah, she’s nice. We’ve been texting. She’s into film, which gives us somethin’ in common, and she’s already invited me to a festival this fall. I think we’re gonna get along.”

Paige nods at the words before watching Dani groan dramatically, leaning her head against Thaliah’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe you’re gonna be in sunny LA while I’m stuck in Storrs with this creature.” She gestures lazily in Paige’s direction without looking up.

“Aye!” Paige exclaims, feigning offense. She ruffles Dani’s curls lightly, earning an indignant squawk. “Watch that mouth.”

Dani swats at Paige’s hand but grins, leaning back in her seat, humming, “Mhm.”

Paige smirks. “It’ll be fun, you know it.”

“Debatable,” Dani shoots back, but there’s a warmth in her tone that makes Paige’s chest feel strangely tight.

Jalen finally joins them, the basketball tucked under one arm. He stands behind them, leaning over to try and get a glimpse. “What’re we looking at?”

“My future roomie,” Thaliah says, holding up her phone again.

Jalen squints at the screen, then nods approvingly. “Damn. She fine.”

Dani bursts out laughing, nearly spilling her milkshake as Thaliah groans and mutters something about boys being predictable. Paige just shakes her head, leaning back on the bench and letting the easy rhythm of their banter wash over her. It’s moments like this, she thinks, that she’s going to miss most.

But then Dani’s hand brushes against hers, her fingers curling briefly around Paige’s, and she thinks maybe she doesn’t have to miss it. Not really. Not when Dani’s right here, and when tomorrow, and every day after, will start with both of them heading toward the same place. Together.

Jalen’s phone buzzes on the bench, the screen lighting up with a notification. Paige notices it before he does and glances over, catching the slight furrow in his brow as he picks it up and reads the message. “Ah, man,” he says, standing and shoving the phone into his pocket. “My mom’s tellin’ me to get home. Graduation tomorrow and all.”

Thaliah stretches, groaning a little as she stands. “Guess I’m out too, then. He’s my ride.”

Paige frowns, tilting her head at them. “Wow, ditching us already?”

Thaliah smirks as she grabs her jacket. “Hey, not all of us can be completely irresponsible. Some of us have families that enforce things like curfews and sleep schedules.”

“Lame,” Paige teases, but she stands to hug Jalen, patting him on the back. “Congrats ahead of time, though. Have fun tomorrow.”

Jalen grins, hugging her back.

Thaliah waves as they head toward the parking lot, leaving Paige and Dani alone on the weathered wooden bench. The night feels quieter now, though not uncomfortable—just different. The cicadas hum in the trees, and the faint smell of grass and pavement lingers in the air. Paige lets herself enjoy the moment for a second, her gaze drifting over to Dani.

Dani sits quietly, staring out at the court, her expression unreadable. It’s the kind of stillness Dani falls into sometimes, where Paige knows she’s in her head about something but won’t say what.

Paige stands, grabbing the basketball from beside her and turning it over in her hands. The weight of it feels familiar and grounding. “Play with me?”

Dani turns to look at her, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Play with me,” Paige repeats, her tone lighter, teasing. She bounces the ball once against the ground for emphasis.

Dani snorts. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” Paige grins, holding the ball against her hip.

“Uh-uh,” Dani protests, shaking her head. “We both know how that’ll end.”

“And?” Paige arches a brow.

Dani doesn’t move, her expression skeptical. Paige rolls her eyes, stepping closer and grabbing Dani’s hand, tugging her to her feet. Dani resists for about half a second before giving in with an exasperated sigh.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Dani mutters.

“Yep.” Paige leads her toward the court, the basketball bouncing lightly in her other hand.

Once they’re on the court, Paige dribbles a couple of times before passing the ball to Dani. “1v1,” she says, her voice challenging.

Dani catches the ball awkwardly, holding it for a moment as she stares at Paige. “This is stupid,” she says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth now. “We both know who’s gonna win.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Paige replies, dropping into a defensive stance. “C’mon. Play.”

With a small shake of her head, Dani starts to dribble—slowly, clumsily. The ball bounces unevenly against the pavement, and Paige bites back a laugh. She gives Dani a few seconds before darting in to steal the ball.

Dani yelps and pulls the ball to her chest, her arms wrapping protectively around it like it’s a lifeline.

“That is illegal!” Paige exclaims, standing in front of her with her hands on her hips.

“Then quit tryna take it from me!” Dani fires back, her voice half-laughing, half-exasperated as she shifts away from Paige.

Paige grins, circling around Dani like a shark. “Aight, fine. If you wanna be like that, we can be like that.”

Before Dani can respond, Paige lunges, trying to pry the ball free. When that doesn’t work, her fingers find their way to Dani’s ribs, tickling mercilessly.

Dani shrieks, laughter spilling out of her uncontrollably. “Paige! Stop!” she yells, twisting and turning to escape, but Paige keeps going, grinning against her ear.

“This… is… definitely… a… foul!” Dani manages between gasps, her laughter growing louder as her grip on the ball falters.

“Don’t care,” Paige replies, her voice smug as she tickles harder. Dani’s back presses into Paige’s chest as she struggles, her legs wobbling beneath her.

Paige spins the brunette around, her fingers relentless against Dani’s ribs, tickling so hard that Dani’s squealing, “Paige!” nearly collapsing under the weight of her laughter.

Finally, Paige relents, stepping back as the basketball slips from Dani’s grasp and rolls across the court. Dani leans against Paige, panting and giggling, her forehead pressing lightly into Paige’s chest.

“I hate you,” Dani mutters breathlessly, swatting weakly at Paige’s hoodie.

Paige just grins, her hands settling on Dani’s hips. “Nah, you don’t.”

Dani pulls back slightly, glaring up at her with an exaggerated pout. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Paige replies, her voice softer now, teasing but with an edge of sincerity. Paige’s grin widens, her hand sliding upward to cup Dani’s jaw. Her thumb brushes lightly against Dani’s cheek as she leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “C’mon, Dan, you don’t hate me.”

Dani rolls her eyes, relenting. Paige thinks she hears her breath catch. “No, I don’t.”

And then Paige tilts her head, her lips brushing against Dani’s, soft at first, as if feeling the rhythm of the moment. But then, the hesitation fades. Paige presses forward, coaxing Dani’s lips to part, and with a quiet, deep inhale, her tongue slips into Dani’s mouth.

Paige feels Dani’s mouth opening slightly more, a sigh escaping her lips. She shifts closer, hands sliding down from Paige’s chest to her sides, pulling them tighter together, the warmth of her body mingling with Paige’s. Their tongues tangle, teeth clashing slightly.

Paige’s hand on Dani’s hip trails downward, fingers slipping, finding purchase on the curve of her ass. She squeezes lightly, feeling the taut muscle beneath her fingertips, and that small movement has Dani grinning against her lips, the playful smirk against Paige’s mouth making Paige’s stomach flip.

Paige lets out a soft laugh through the kiss, a breathless sound, but she doesn’t pull away. She deepens the kiss instead, her fingers pressing a little harder, pulling Dani closer still. It’s like a slow burn, the way their bodies are melting together, hot and heavy but not frantic.

Paige takes her time. She lets her lips linger, firm but careful, savoring the way Dani responds. There’s a heat between them, an energy that buzzes under Paige’s skin, but she reins it in, keeps it simmering just beneath the surface. This moment isn’t about rushing forward—it’s about Dani, about the way she fits so perfectly in Paige’s hands, the way her lips feel impossibly soft and warm, the way she melts into the kiss.

Dani shifts slightly, her hands sliding up from Paige’s chest to loop around her neck. It pulls Paige down further, and she lets it happen, leaning into the touch, into Dani. The kiss slows for a beat, their lips brushing more gently now, like the initial spark has given way to something softer, something steadier.

Paige pulls back just an inch, her forehead resting against Dani’s. She opens her eyes slowly, and the sight of Dani—her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes half-lidded and searching—nearly takes her breath away.

“Dan,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and a little unsteady.

Dani blinks up at her, her fingers still playing lightly with the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. The way she looks at Paige—like she’s seeing her for the first time and yet has always known her—says everything.

Paige feels her phone buzz against her skin, the vibration pulling her reluctantly out of the moment, out of Dani’s warmth. She lets out a soft breath of frustration, but she’s still not ready to fully pull away. Her hand stays on Dani’s ass, fingers tracing the curve of her hip in a way that keeps their bodies pressed together.

She pulls the phone from her pocket with a sigh, glancing at the screen, but the feeling of Dani still so close, so tangible, is enough to make her hold on just a moment longer. It’s a message from her dad asking if she and Dani want to come back and watch a movie with Drew, Ryan, and Lauren.

She shifts the phone to face Dani, letting her read it for herself. The light from the screen illuminates their faces, casting soft shadows across Dani’s features. For a second, Paige just looks at her, at the way Dani’s brow furrows slightly in thought as she processes the message, and then the way her lips curve into that familiar smile that always does something to Paige’s chest.

“You wanna?” Paige asks quietly, her voice soft but steady, letting Dani know she’s willing to go along with whatever she decides.

Dani looks at the message and then up at Paige, smiling just a little—like the smallest of secrets are being shared. She nods, and that small gesture makes Paige’s heart skip just a little.

“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s something in her tone that makes Paige’s chest tighten with affection. “Let’s go.”

Paige smiles back, the warmth spreading in her chest, and presses one last kiss to the corner of Dani’s mouth. It’s soft, lingering for a second longer than it probably should, but Paige can’t help it. She can’t help but savor the taste of Dani, the way her lips feel like home. It’s like everything before this—before the arguing, before the space between them, before all the pain—has led to this.

This moment. This kiss. And everything that comes after it.

When she pulls back just a fraction, still feeling the heat of Dani’s skin under her hands, Paige wraps her arm around Dani’s waist and guides them back toward the picnic table. Her fingers graze the soft curve of Dani’s waist, a quiet gesture of possession, of love, of a future they haven’t yet fully realized but are starting to piece together.

They collect their milkshakes, Paige grabbing both cups, offering Dani her Oreo one, who takes it with a grateful, quiet smile, and they walk side by side, their shoulders brushing with every step. They don’t say much, the silence between them comfortable, an unspoken understanding that fills the space where words aren’t needed. There’s no pressure, no rush, just the steady rhythm of their footsteps as they head back.

Side by side, they walk back to Paige’s house, their bodies pressed close enough that the warmth between them is constant, never faltering. Neither of them speaks much, but the air between them feels thick with the weight of it all—the unspoken words, the shared memories, the connection that neither of them can deny anymore. They walk in sync, like they’ve always been meant to, and Paige finds that she doesn’t need words to fill the space.

The familiar sights of their neighborhood pass by, the houses and the trees, the sound of their feet on the pavement, the occasional rustle of wind through the leaves. They pass Dani’s dad’s house, and neither of them looks at it. Paige’s mind briefly flickers to that house, to the past, to the pain that had lingered there for so long, but it’s all behind them now. That part of their lives is a closed door, and neither of them needs to open it again.

They reach the front door of Paige’s house, and Paige can’t help but glance at Dani as she opens it. The door opens with a soft creak, and for a brief moment, Paige holds the door open with one hand while she rests her forehead against Dani’s. It’s a simple thing, but there’s something about it, something about the way Dani’s body fits against hers, something about the softness of her skin under Paige’s touch that makes it all feel like it’s meant to be.

And in that moment, Paige knows, without a doubt, that everything before this was just the beginning. Because this—this is their forever.

Then, Lauren calls for them both from inside, telling their names. Dani grins up at Paige, murmuring, “C’mon,” pulling her inside.

And as they step inside the house, with their hands still intertwined, the door closes softly behind them, sealing shut their childhoods, their high school days, and all the ups and downs that surrounded them. The future’s wide open, and Paige and Dani are ready to take that step into it.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #take me to church #hopkins p fic #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers series #wlw #lgbtq #wcbb x reader

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v1sexual · 19 hours ago

Text

that’s a wrap 🎬 ; vi (arcane)

a behind the senes arcane modern au ! (bcs wtf was that ending)

note : this fic (like all of my other ones) are a bit (a lot actually) self indulgent. this will also be in a third person’s point of view because i’m trying to get used (and get better) writing in a 3rd person’s pov. this is also lowkey a vi x reader *sighs*, i just love my gf so bad ya’ll.

p.s. the character names are also their names in ‘real life’ (because i said so).

cw : spoilers for arcane act 3, swearing,

unedited & not proofread

ever since she got her dream role as one of the leading cast in arcane, she started filming bits and pieces of how the show came to life (with the consent of everyone involved of course). since the filming of season 1 up to season 2 act three, (name) has compiled an hour worth of uncut behind the scenes content that she and the cast planned on releasing during the opening premiere for the last act of arcane.

“you ready shortcake?” (name)’s girlfriend called out, just as she finished putting a thin sheet of lipgloss on her lips. “almost done violet,” she called out, putting her shoes one.

(name) took one last look at herself in the full body mirror, admiring her hard work. she wore a dark red dress paired with sheer black elbow length gloves, and black platform heels with red accents (that violet gifted you a couple months ago).

after shoving her phone inside a red clutch, (name)’s bedroom door opened. violet stood in front of her. she wore a two-piece suit with a dark red button-up blouse tucked inside her pants, the first couple of buttons of the blouse were undone, and her hair (at least the ones on the side of her head that wasn’t shaved) was in a messy slick back.

“absolutely gorgeous,” vi whispered under her breath. she walked towards (name), she placed her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before leaning down to kiss her. “flatterer,” (name) giggled as she pressed a finger against vi’s lips, preventing vi from kissing her.

vi nipped at her girlfriend’s gloved finger, “i speak the truth, and nothing but the truth.” she whispered.

(name) hummed, smiling lovingly as her girlfriend. “thank you baby, you look amazing yourself. hot even.”

a loud noise came from (name) and vi’s phone, interrupting their moment.

“we need to go violet, it’s almost time for the premiere.” (name) exclaimed excitedly, breaking away from her girlfriend. she held onto vi’s arm and practically dragged her outside.

“i don’t get a kiss before we go?” vi pouted, (name) rolled her eyes before pressing a quick peck on vi’s lips then proceeded to get inside the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car. vi sighed, shaking her head before she went inside the driver seat and thinking how she’d make you pay later for not giving her a proper kiss.

ꕀ

let’s just say that everyone was bawling after premiering the last three episodes of arcane. (name) sat in between vi and her sister powder (whose head was resting against ekko’s shoulder) practically vibrating with excitement as the producers went on stage to thank everyone, especially the fans, for coming to the premiere.

it was almost time to present the special behind the scenes video (name) made. everyone knew of the special little project but no one has really seen it, not the director, the producers, or even her loving girlfriend. soon enough, she was called on stage for a little speech and to present the video.

“hi everyone,” she started, voice shaking a bit. “first of all i would like to thank you for coming to tonight’s premiere. it’s been an honor to work with you for the past couple of years. as you all know, i’ve been compiling tons of little snippets of us ever since the production of arcane has started. all in all, i’ve collected an hour’s worth of behind the scenes content. since i didn’t want to keep all of us in here for another hour or so i’ve edited the video and out came the 10 minute behind the scenes compilation that i’m about to play. but don’t worry, i’ve already uploaded the original uncut version to the shared online album for everyone to view.”

a series of murmurs and giggles filled the audience as (name) gave herself a second to pause. “anyways,” you cleared your throat. “without further ado, i present, arcane : behind all the heartbreak and drama, enjoy!”

when (name) sat down next to her girlfriend, the video started rolling.

ꕀ

scene one.

the camera unfocused and focused as a young looking (name) had her face up to close to it’s lens. she had a cheeky smile on her face.

“hi guys! it’s (name) and today is the first day of filming arcane!” she then proceeded to flip the camera and did a little trailer tour. she the went outside where she introduced everyone in the cast as well as the director and producers.

scene two.

the video cuts to what seems to be the scene where the battle between silco and vander happened. (name) shows the audience the set, some of the special effects, and had the actresses for young vi and powder do a little question and answer for her.

“hey girls!” she called out. the two children ran towards her, giddy smiles on their faces. it was right after filming the scene of vi and powder’s falling out, when vi called powder a jinx.

“how does the nose feel?” (name) asked, gingerly touching child powder’s nose that hade fake blood dripping from it. the child shrugged, replying “i’ve had worse. she punches like a little girl.” which made the tween who played young vi roll her eyes.

“that’s a bunch of bull! she cried actual tears, like real tears! she totally wasn’t acting”

(name) sighed and left the two children to playfully argue before the camera cuts to vander and silco. the two men were taking a nap on the side of the set, both had their arms crossed and head leaning against the wall. “they truly are brother,” she spoke into the camera.

the scene cuts again, this time (name) was with the kids who played mylo and claggor.

“as you can see i am not dead,” mylo shouted at the camera, a cheeky grin on his face. while claggor imitates mylo’s death scene, his hand clutching where the steel bar pierces mylo’s skin before dramatically falling to the ground and laughing his ass off.

scene three.

(name)’s camera was propped up against a mirror, she was currently in the hair and make-up booth with jayce, viktor, and mel. she held her mic against her, “so my dearest mel, how does it feel to have everyone wish they were jayce during that one scene?” (name) wiggled her eyebrows as mel began laughing uncontrollably.

“all i can say is i’d rather have the beautiful zaunite enforcer rather than the golden boy,” mel said jokingly into the mic, referring to (name)’s character in the show. making everyone in the dressing room laugh.

the scene then cuts to what seems to be (name) reading people’s tweets regarding the show to the rest of the cast.

“jayce this one’s directed to you,” (name) said in between laughs. “i hate hate hate jayce talis. imagine being in the lap of a literal goddess but all you is cry and whine about your historic twink bag fumble.”

jayce was dumbfounded as everyone doubled up in laughter. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” he shouted. poor boy looked so confused, he looked like he had stroke trying to understand what historic twink bag fumble meant.

“this last one is for vik,” (name) started as the laughter died down (jayce still consfused in the background, asking vi what ‘historic twink bag fumble’ meant). “one of the fans said, ‘can i lick-“ almost immediately (name) started laughing.

“they said ‘can i lick viktor’s hextechticles.’” almost immediately everyone started laughing again, the sounds of boisterous laughter filled the room.

viktor’s cheeks tinted pink, he gripped his stomach as he laughed. “i have no idea how to respond to that.” he wheezed into the mic.

scene four.

“good morning everyone!” (name) exclaimed, waving at the camera. “we have my fave girl with us. the one, the only, caitlyn!”

the blue haired girl grinned, “but i’m not your favorite-“ she said in a teasing tone before got she cut off.

“you are my favorite girl,” (name) huffed, a visible blush paints her cheek as caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully.

she then proceeded to do a quick set tour, showing the audience how it really looked like without any cgi and all that jazz. the scene ends with (name) and caitlyn yapping about routines or rituals that helped them get in the mood to play their characters.

scene five.

this clip was taken during the filming of season two. (name) smiled at camera, her fingers on her lips in a shushing expression then pans the camera behind her. she was in one of the dressing rooms, and in the corner was sevika, powder (dressed up as jinx), and isha, who were sound asleep.

“look at this cute little dysfunctional family,” (name) whispered. sevika had powder leaning on her shoulder as isha was sprawled on her lap.

scene six.

“don’t fret ya’ll she’s alive!” (name) shouted at the camera, holding isha out like a sacrificial lamb. the camera seemed like it was held by someone significantly taller than her, the angle looking a bit funny as she held isha up.

the child laughed, (name) then propped the kid on her hip. powder then walked in-frame, she took isha from (name)’s hold and helped the kid up on her shoulders. “SHE’S ALIVEEEE!” powder shouted before running around the set, her hands supporting the kid’s weight.

“i swear if she dropped the kid-“ a voice from behind the camera mumbled.

“they’re gonna be fine vi,” (name) laughed. “let them be.”

scene seven.

during this scene, instead of the usual (name) who filmed most (if not all) the videos, it was cait and powder who held the camera. a cheeky grin etched on their lips. the camera then flipped to show their surroundings.

lo and behold, it was vi. she was cocooned in a thick blanket snoring away without a care in the world. cait then proceeded to walk towards her. once close enough, she held the camera at an angle to show (name) who was tucked between vi’s legs, her head resting against vi’s chest with the blanket almost covering her whole body.

“aren’t they the cutest,” cait snickered.

“can’t beat the dating allegations now,” powder replied with a snort.

scene eight.

“i’m actually bawling,” (name) whispered into the camera before adjusting it to show the rest of the set. the others are currently in the middle of filming a scene for act 3, she zoomed the camera to powder and ekko. they were dancing as the song ‘ma meilleure ennemie’ played in the background.

mylo and claggor’s hushed voices joined (name)’s as she continued to film, then suddenly the camera was yanked away and mylo’s face entered the frame.

“for anyone wondering, they’re actually dating in real life.” mylo whispered, claggor then appeared next to him with an unamused expression. “that was supposed to be a secret! they’re not out in the public yet.” he scolded.

“well, you can tell by the chemistry and tension between them. doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. have you seen the dating rumours?”

(name)’s sigh was visibly heard before snatching the camera. “if by then ekko and power hasn’t come out as a couple yet i’ll just cut this part out.” she murmured.

scene nine.

“what is everyone’s fave song from the series?” (name) said, reading aloud the question written in a piece of paper.

“that’s a tough one,” ambessa said.

“probably to ashes and blood,” sevika exclaimed, then nods of agreement and murmurs filled the room.

“mine’s a no brainer,” heimerdinger piped. “my favorite song is spin the wheel, sung by yours truly.” everyone laughed, a couple people agreed as others began playfully teasing heimerdinger.

(name) smiled at her friends before looking at the camera. “my favorite has to be our love or ma meillure ennemie.”

“enemy by imagine dragons!”

everyone then proceeded to sing the song, goofily making sound effects and lowering their voices.

scene ten.

(name) panned the camera up, she zoomed in on vi and powder as they acted one of the most heartbreaking scenes in act 3. vi’s gauntlet clutched powder’s hand as the blue haired girl dangled, vander, who was dressed in the pre-cgi warwick costume, held her, the wires supporting their weights.

tears streamed down vi’s face as she looked down at her sister, she opened her mouth to deliver her line but nothing came out.

“crap, i forgot the line. wait.” she called out, smiling sheepishly.

the director sighed, “cut! let’s roll that again.”

powder laughed and shakes her head. “you fucking idiot.”

“cut it out you two,” vander scolded, his deep voice menacing yet playful.

“yeah, yeah.” vi replied, then held a thumbs up to signal that she was ready.

(name)’s laughs can be heard from behind the camera, she then flipped it to show her face. “you guys are about to hate every single thing about this scene i just know it.” caitlyn appeared next to her, she nursed a cup of coffee and smiled at the camera.

“be sure to keep your eyes open though,” was all caitlyn said before winking and walking away.

ꕀ

pictures taken from the set began to appear in a slideshow as the video ended. almost everyone was in shambles, especially the fans who were invited to come to the premiere. a round of applause echoed across the room as the producers step onto the stage again for the closing remarks.

the event ended a couple hours later than expected. the cast mingled, had a late dinner and a couple of drinks. everyone was enjoying themselves and having fun one last time before they went their separate ways.

“sad to think how i won’t be seeing everyone everyday now,” (name) whispered sadly as she and vi sat in one corner of the room. “i sure will miss everyone.”

vi draped an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders, she leaned down until her face was adjacent to (name)’s. “not us though.” vi smiled teasingly.

“won’t you get tired of me though?” (name) asked, her hands cupped vi’s cheeks. her girlfriend snorted, acting as if she had just told a funny joke. “not by a long shot cupcake.”

the two leaned forward, their noses touching, lips only centimetres apart. just as about their lips met, cait’s voice startled them.

“i’m gonna have to borrow my best girl for a second vi,” she teased. “you can have (name) all to yourself later but for now we need to dance.”

the next thing (name) knew she was being dragged to dance floor by caitlyn, loud music blasting as her friend swayed. she looked back at vi who shrugged at her, a smile playing on her lips. (name) smiled before blowing her girlfriend a kiss. soon enough everybody joined them on the dance floor. ekko, powder, and isha danced in a circle, sevika who was reluctantly dragged by mel, jayce and viktor who gawked at heimerdinger (who was absolutely smashing the dance floor by the way), and then there was mylo who was talking to the dj as claggor did his best in becoming wingman of the year. some stayed seated and chose to drink, like silco, vander, and ambessa, who watched the others danced.

soon enough, the night finally ended. a couple people who were sober chaperoned those who were drunk, some opted to stay in nearby hotels. after saying their goodbyes, vi and (name) drove back to their shared apartment.

“that was fun,” (name) yawned as she plopped down on the couch, vi knelt in front of her started taking off her girlfriend’s shoes.

“tired?” she asked, rubbing the soles of (name)’s sore feet making the smaller girl groan. she responded with a soft ‘yes’, before closing her eyes. the sensation of vi’s lips making it’s way up her thigh startled her, her eyes fluttered open as she looked down.

vi smiled pressing another kiss on her girlfriend’s thigh before hiking them up and resting them on her shoulders. (name)’s dress pooled at her upper thigh, exposing her soft skin. “you sure?” vi whispered.

“mmm,” (name) hummed. “maybe not too tired.” she answered, making her girlfriend chuckle.

“good,” vi murmured against (name)’s skin. “because you’re in for a long night shortcake.”

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