#brainstorming helped A TON | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fushitoru · 4 months ago

Text

chapter 1: the debutante a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

a/n tired of keeping this in the vault lol so I’ll just post it even if my perfectionist tendencies are screaming at me. thank you so much to @/sinn-clair for beta reading and lexi (@/ayyy-pee) for helping me brainstorm 💗

next. the aftermath

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader,

Another season comes as the ton descends to London yet again from the countryside. Young ladies and their mamas flock to the modiste in an effort to fluff their feathers to find a match.

The Itadoris are by far one of the most prolific families in the upper echelons of society. The sight of all the children at once⸺Miss Itadori, Lord Choso Itadori, and Mister Yuji Itadori⸺is enough to catch the attention of mamas and young suitors alike. Miss Itadori, making her debut this season, has much to be desired. The debutante is a meek and demure girl, but with many talents indeed. The oldest, Lord Itadori, has a quiet countenance that has ladies and mamas on their toes, counting the days until he finally joins the marriage market. Mister Yuji Itadori is quite the opposite; his physical prowess on horseback riding has had quite a few ladies swooning after.

Furthermore, the heir to the Duke of Gojo is a most interesting character. Although he has not deigned to find a wife during any season yet, This Author has heard whispers that he will be looking for a bride during this one.

Lady Mei Mei can certainly be expected to be on the prowl, waiting to sink her teeth into the wealthiest….

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

“Seriously?” Choso scrunched his nose in displeasure. “Why would ladies want someone who’s quiet? I use it to convey my displeasure, not to be charming.”

On the other hand, the other brother relaxed on the opposite couch, proud. “I knew I looked good on horseback,” Yuji remarked smugly. “You and my dear sister are clearly jealous of how appealing my muscles look while I’m grabbing the reins.”

“Those ladies clearly hadn’t seen you drop yourself in dung when you were younger. Or the face you make when you are so oddly concentrated. As if you just stepped into a chamber pot.”

Before Yuji could come up with a snide remark to his older brother, the two heard an incessant pacing leading up to the doors of the drawing room they sat in. The door slammed opened to reveal their mother⸺Lady Itadori⸺with a hand to her face in clear distress.

Choso and Yuji exchanged glances before Choso calmly set down the single-page newspaper he was reading. “What is the matter, mother?”

Lady Itadori moaned and sat down on a chair raggedly. “Your sister is the matter. I fear the queen will have reviewed every person in London before your sister leaves her room.”

Before Choso could get a word in, Yuji suddenly stood up. “This is a serious matter, mother. After all, she should be punctual to her debut. I will go fetch her.”

“Wait, Yuji!” Choso and Lady Itadori followed Yuji to the grand staircase of the Itadori manor. Hurriedly, they reached the foot of the stairs to see Yuji tilting his head back to take a deep breath.

“SISTER!” Yuji had his palms up to his face, as if to amplify his already booming scream. “YOU! MUST! MAKE! HASTE!” After the quite of bit noise he'd made, he cleared his throat, looking to the side to see his dumbfounded mother and brother, and shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to the job.”

Then, the brothers and their mother look up to see a peek of white and a “Miss, be careful with the hem!” You, at the top of the staircase, grab the front of your ivory dress, with your maids helping you with the train, as you start stepping down the staircase with an irritated frown. “Must you always be such a nuisance, brother?” Traversing down the stairs until your family members were visible, all you saw were dumbfounded and tense expressions. After enduring hours of painting your face and dealing with your maid Nobara’s fussing over your coiffure, you wished for a more fond reaction. Annoyed, you stomped your way past them to the exit, where the carriage was waiting for you four.

“Dear!” your mother exclaimed, rushing to your side and taking your hand as you reached the door. Her eyes, filled with concern, met yours as she nervously asked, “How are you feeling? I know this is a momentous day for you, but remember, you’ve always excelled in your lessons. It’s only natural that you’ll win the queen’s approval, dear.”

“Yes, Mother, of course,” you sighed. “It is just such a hectic day.”

“But you shall dazzle them.” Choso comes behind you, patting your back gently in his reassuring, elderly brother ways. With a proud smile, he says, “The gentlemen are not prepared for your entrance this season.”

“Indeed! They will be none the wiser to your snark, sister.” You see Yuji coming up on your other side, offering his elbow. You tentatively take it, eyeing him sourly as he continues, “I am simply elated that Mama’s attention will be on you, rather me.”

You reach to smack him on the head, eliciting an "Ow!" from Yuji just as your mother approaches next to him, frowning. "Of course, Yuji. But it won’t be long before I have to chase after you for your tutor’s complaints about your lack of proficiency⸺"

Yuji interjects hastily. "Well! Would you look at the time? The Queen is waiting!"

"I'm surprised the gossip pamphlet didn't mention how much of a rake you are," Lord Geto mused, taking a sip of brandy. At his right, Duke Nanami was stoic as always, focusing on the tastes the gin was bringing to his mouth rather than the two older men beside him.

"I'm severely offended you would even imply such a thing," Mister Satoru Gojo put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. Rather than a gin in his hand, Satoru preferred drinking water lest his mouth spilled something even more notorious than his signature calculative icy blue eyes.

He continued. "Honestly, I don't understand this whole Whistledown business. Some might even say the ton holds her words more in regards than the Holy Bible!"

"You're diverting the matter at hand, Gojo," Nanami took his tired eyes off of his drink to look at Satoru. "As the heir and first son, have your parents not urged you to cease your foolishness? There is a limit to the rakish behavior one can exhibit in your position.”

"Yes," Satoru sighed, "They have. That's precisely why I'm looking for a bride."

There was a silence in which Satoru looked up from his glass to see Kento and Suguru’s mouths agape. "What?"

Suguru leaned closer to Satoru, as if to inspect his countenance unsure if he was jesting or not. "So, is it actually true? You're going to get tied down?"

Nanami wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Must you say it like that? Marriage isn't imprisonment, you know."

Gojo sighed. "Nanami, Nanami. It's clear that one year that separates us in age has also left a gap in experience." Nanami felt a vein pop as Satoru irritatedly continued in his know-it-all voice. "Marriage is an end. The dead end, in fact. It is when you are abroad in Paris, basking in all the fine entertainment and wooing ladies until you realize you are out of funds. Out of money. Marriage is coming home not to go out and drink, but to a wife that has endless needs of you and children that will have frustrating phases of life. An end to pleasure and an end of all jest."

Kento and Suguru exchanged a glance before Suguru asked, "So why are you looking for a wife?"

Satoru looked dejectedly at them, crossing his arms. "My parents insisted. Said they would freeze my funds and kick me out if I didn't get serious about my future." He continued on his desperate rambling, leaning back in his chair. "I don't understand. Must I have a wife to "get serious" in life? I’m serious about all the fucking mergers and dubious finances my father invests in! Look how well I managed his bets!"

"You know, Satoru, your outlook on marriage is awfully pessimistic," Suguru put down his glass to lean back as well, crossing his arms in seriousness. "Don't you wish for a love match?"

"That sounds ridiculous. Love matches are just a passing fancy young ladies have when reading their ridiculous romance novels."

"Well, of course you think that." Kento deadpanned. "No respectable lady in their right mind would fall for you and your attitude."

"Nanami, you wound me."

Suguru glanced at Satoru with concern. "My dear friend, you are making this harder for yourself than it ought to be."

Satoru groaned. "I came here for jest, not to receive words of so-called wisdom. I assure you both, all is well." He looked at both of his friends. "I do not need to be assured. I simply am looking for a woman fine enough to be my wife to appease my parents and their concerns of continuing on the line and handling the dukedom but for a woman so reserved that she'd respect my wishes and isn't so miserable. Or needy." Satoru shrugged. "I would believe these to be respectable requirements for a wife."

Suguru looked at him with mild displeasure. "It sounds like you are looking for a horse to ride, not a woman you would spend the rest of your life with."

Standing up, Satoru moved behind Kento and Suguru to give them a hearty slap on the back. "Trust me, my dear, dear friends. I will find what I am looking for and drink myself silly for the rest of my life!"

"You don't drink." Kento sighed.

"Never mind, you! Sir, more drinks!" Satoru grinned. "Here's to the bachelor life!"

The three men raised their glasses for the toast. Yet, only one of them contained thin water.

You restlessly arranged the feathers in your coiffure and adjusted the fabric essentially squeezing the breath out of your lungs to accentuate your bust. The palace waiting room was stuffy as ever as debutantes and their mamas fluttered across the room in an effort to catch the smallest of flaws on their person.

Before the Queen did, that is.

"Your feathers are fine, dear. Take deep breaths for me." Your mother raised her hands, prompting you to take a breath in and out as her hands lowered.

You gave her your practiced smile and curtsy to which your mother laid a hand on the small of your back in both approval and reassurance. With the other, she grabbed your own and rubbed comforting circles in the junction of your index finger and your thumb. "You have always excelled in your lessons, my dear. I could not be prouder of the woman you are becoming." She sniffed, and you smiled in appreciation. "The Queen will love you, I am sure of it."

You laughed. "Mama, that is what all these ladies think."

“But none of these ladies have poured in the determination you have, my dear.” Your mother holds your head gently by the cheeks. “Your character and proficiency⸺I am sure the Queen will see the promising young lady that I am proud to call my daughter.”

You felt a lump in your throat. While you appreciated your mother’s words, you could not help but think of the significance of this day. You almost felt dizzy thinking about messing up in front of the Queen; if you didn't find a suitable match as a result, what would become of you?

Suddenly, there was some fanfare from the main room. "Now, presenting Miss Itadori and the Right Honourable Lady Itadori." Your heart jumped out of your throat as you heard the call for you and your mother to walk up.

"Let's go, my dear." With a fond kiss to your temple, your mother led you by the hand to the center of the tall and ornate doors that opened to reveal the Queen and her audience. You couldn't help but notice that your mother's hand held a reassuring, yet tight vice.

When the doors opened, your vision blurred. Your heartbeat got faster, and all you could register was the stares. What felt like a million pairs of eyes blinking upon you, scanning your coiffure, garments, and carefully painted face. While the gossiping widows and mamas whispered amongst themselves, some gentlemen scanned you up and down in clear assessment of your constitution. A distinct smell of tobacco and vanilla wafted through the air, and you took an imperceptible breath in as you steeled yourself before putting your practiced, signature smile.

A memory from your childhood flashed before you.

"She is excelling in her studies," your tutor had said, discussing your performance with your mother in the drawing room. You, sitting beside them, had fidgeted nervously with your small hands clasped in your lap, sitting as straight as you could manage.

"What must she do to improve?" your mother inquired, her eyes sharp with concern.

"Madame," your tutor had said, turning his gaze towards you with a knowing look. "Your daughter is quite nearly flawless. She is of my most exceptional students; her obedience and composure are unparalleled, even at such a tender age." He then fixed his eyes back on your mother with an authoritative intensity. "But there is one element that will truly distinguish her as a diamond."

Your mother had leaned forward, abandoning her tea in anticipation. "What is it?"

"Her smile."

As you flash your smile to the room, you could feel the people in the room going silent. Your smile was what helped you focus and keep your eyes on the prize: impressing the queen. Smiling in the most innocent and demure way you could possibly muster, you straighten your posture as you advance towards the queen, your eyes serene and your expression a masterful display of delicate charm.

The stares of the ton were on your back, but all you focused on was the harmony of your countenance. Chin up, you reminded yourself. Everyone in this room is my prey, and I am the predator.

When you and your mother reached the foot of the Queen's throne, you dipped into the deepest curtsy you had to offer, keeping your eyes on the ground as you minimized your smile to a more polite and respectful one. You stayed there for as long as the Queen was silent.

Then, a rustling of fabric as the room silently gasped. The Queen was stepping towards you, and you felt a gloved hand take your chin. Not daring to breathe or rise from your genuflection by even an inch, you forced your body to stay in position as your face was raised to look at the Queen’s.

Her booming, yet regal, voice echoed throughout the room. “You, my dear. Perfect.” She then addressed the room. “I have found my diamond!”

The declaration sent a wave of murmurs through the gathered crowd. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you as you slowly rose from your curtsy, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes instinctively sought your mother’s, who looked at you with pride and a hint of warning.

“Keep smiling, my dear,” she whispers into your ear. “They are staring now, more than ever.”

Your mother was right, upon reflection. There were eyes observing you far more diligently than they had before. In particular, a pair of icy and brilliant blue ones.

“Choso, not today.” Your mother sighed. “I am not ignorant of your overprotective tendencies, especially towards your younger sister and brother.”

Choso was fully frowning in displeasure, arms crossed as he observed your mother, Yuji, and yourself board the carriage. “Mother. Sister is the diamond of the season. The men will be after her like hungry vultures!”

“Well, vultures have a tendency to eat freshly decayed carrion. When you get rid of those dark circles and don’t look like dead meat, you can join us.”

Choso protested further, stopping the doorman from closing the carriage door. “But, Mother⸺”

“Yuji, close the door. Your brother will join us when learns to get sleep and not work on those ledgers overnight.” As per your mother’s instructions, Yuji closes the door on him. As the carriage rolls out of your manor and into the London streets, you blow a mocking kiss to your brother, who is now brewing at the doorstep.

“Phew! Good riddance,” Your mother fanned herself. “I need this night with you, alone. God knows how many suitors will be warded off with that horrid glare of his.”

You laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the carriage. “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for a bit of peace.”

You and your mother were wrong; your brother should have been there.

Upon your arrival, you were followed by stares, whispers, and men. Bachelors appeared in droves, eager to engage in conversation, each drawn by your newly anointed title as the diamond of the season. After paying your respects to the Queen, you found yourself swept into a whirlwind of attention, each dance and conversation a testament to the allure your status had brought.

As you navigated the crowd with practiced grace, Yuji, ever the observant and cheeky sibling, leaned in close to you and murmured, “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. They’re practically circling like hawks. Do you think we’ll need to hire a guard just to keep them at bay?”

You gave him a wry smile, barely concealing your exasperation. “Oh, Yuji, you’re so dramatic. They’re just eager to make their introductions.”

Yuji snickered and nodded towards a particularly earnest-looking gentleman who seemed to be making a concerted effort to catch your attention. “Well, if this is what the season looks like, I might have to prepare myself for a front-row seat to a parade of besotted suitors. Just don’t let them all think you’re here to catch them; we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.”

Your mother, overhearing Yuji’s jest, gave a light laugh and shook her head. “Oh, Yuji, you and your theatrics. Just make sure you’re ready to fend off any advances that come your way.”

“What?” You’ve never seen Yuji’s smile drop so fast. As if on cue, there were mamas and maidens closer to Yuji’s age that were approaching, as if a pack, and he looked at you in panic. “Are they coming towards us? Sister, you’ve got to⸺”

“Mister Itadori,” It appeared it was too late. A pack of young ladies were right next to you, fluttering their fans and lashes and giggling. “Whistledown has praised you quite well in this last issue.”

Help, Yuji mouthed, but you merely winked in response. The young ladies had effectively formed a barrier around you, offering a temporary reprieve from the throng of eager suitors. Sensing an opportunity, you decided to seize the moment and discreetly made your way towards the punch table.

The cool, refreshing scent of the punch greeted you as you approached, offering a welcome contrast to the bustling, heated atmosphere of the ballroom. You filled a glass with the fruity, aromatic beverage and took a moment to savor the brief solitude.As soon as you took a deep breath in, savoring your newfound freedom, you felt a presence next to you at the punch table. “Miss Itadori.”

Upon turning, you were met with the infallible smirk of Naoya Zen’in. You had indeed heard⸺and read, in Whistledown⸺that his family adopted nontraditional ways of determining the winner of the family inheritance and leadership. While Lord Zen’in wasn’t guaranteed to be the heir, he definitely was one of the top contenders. You assessed him further, taking in his arrogant demeanor as he reached down to give you a kiss on your hand. Rather wet, you thought in disgust.

But you hid it well, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Mister Zen’in! I am flattered to be acquainted with you today. How do you find today’s ball?”

“Rather well, of course.” He reached to scoop some punch for himself. “I enjoy meeting all the young ladies and dancing with them, of course. Ever in search of my perfect bride.”

You forced an artificial giggle. “Of course. I’m sure all the ladies that have talked to you have been charmed, as am I.”

He swelled, exactly you expected, as you stroked his ego. “But none of these ladies are as valuable as you, my diamond.” To your displeasure, he took a step closer to you, discreetly tracing his finger from your upper arm to where your dance card resided. “May I have your next dance? I have been perfecting my dance skill to the point all my brothers are envious of my prowess!” He barked out a laugh. “In fact, I beat them in horse riding years ago, and…”

While Naoya kept talking, you merely fluttered your fan over your face in mock interest. You were really starting to mourn your short-founded freedom, wanting a respite from the self obsessed young man. For some reason, you could smell the same distinctive perfume of expensive tobacco and painfully sweet vanilla you had smelled in your presentation, like a warning. Realizing you were drifting off into space with the heady fragrance, you made sure to tune into his ramblings once more.

For some reason⸺that you were growing to find uncomfortable⸺he still had his hand on your dance card. You felt the previously faint aroma growing stronger by the second. “Of course, I am soon to be the heir of the Zen’in name⸺”

A flamboyant and mischievous laugh cut through the air. “Naoya, you amuse me.” To your alarm, a young man steps to the right of you. From what you can see on the side of his face, his head sports brilliant white hair and his eyes are focused on the bachelor in front of you, who is now displeased and openly glaring at the man beside you.

“Gojo, I⸺”

“Funny that you talk about the Zen’in inheritance, Naoya.” The man⸺Gojo⸺scratched his chin in faux puzzlement while cockily smiling. “Last time I checked, Naobito was discussing handing it over to Megumi over pall-mall!”

Naoya was clearly growing more and more distressed. “Father wouldn’t dare to hand that child with a whore of a mother⸺”

Gojo clicked his tongue, outwardly showing a nonchalant smile, but you could noticeably see his eyes darken. “That’s no way to talk in front of a lady, Naoya, and certainly not of a mother. Besides, Mister Zen’in, didn’t Megumi save your family from the edge of poverty?”

Naoya’s nostrils flared. Clearly at the end of his wit, he did a small bow towards you as he swiftly exited your proximity. You blinked, partially processing the conversation that happened as well as the fact that you were now alone with this Gojo. Turning, you prepared your signature smile, the act you had been presenting for countless of young bachelors today. However, what made you stop in your tracks was his eyes.

Even the pure Englishmen you had met in London didn’t possess eyes like his. They were intense and vividly blue, flashing with judgment and calculation. His face, though strikingly pretty and slightly more feminine than others, seemed carefully constructed to mask his true thoughts. His white lashes contrasted sharply with his hair as he blinked.

And then it hit you. This was the heir of the Gojo dukedom, Satoru Gojo. Known as a capital R Rake for reasons unknown to you (Nobara just insisted he was), you could see elegance and arrogance exuding off of him, yet another noble with an ego as big as his wallet. You recall, then, what Whistledown had wrote about him⸺that he has never shown interest in marriage before today.

It was only after he blinked once more that you realized he was waiting for some response to an introuction you didn't catch. In a panicked flurry, you curtsied and said, “My apologies, Mister Gojo. I fear I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Miss Itadori, pleased to meet you.”

Gojo’s smile widened, his blue eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible amusement. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Itadori.” He returned your curtsy with an elegant nod, his voice smooth and teasing. “I must say, you handle yourself with admirable grace amidst such a tumultuous crowd, my diamond.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gojo,” you replied, attempting to regain your composure as you took a sip of your punch. “I do try my best to navigate these social minefields.”

He chuckled softly, the sound light and charming. “Indeed. Though it seems you’ve had quite the evening already, judging by your rapid responses to Lord Zen’in’s advances.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to draw a hint of a smile on your lips. “It appears you’ve been observing closely. Are you always so keenly aware of your surroundings, Mister Gojo?”

“Only when I find the scene particularly entertaining,” he said, his gaze shifting to watch the guests around the ballroom. “And tonight, the spectacle is quite extraordinary. I must admit, you are a refreshing change from the usual parade of predictable manners.”

“Predictable?” you asked, your curiosity somewhat piqued. “Do you find most of the guests here lacking in originality?”

“Perhaps not lacking, but certainly not as intriguing,” he replied with a playful grin. “Take, for instance, Mister Zen’in. A man of considerable ambition, no doubt, but with a flair for the dramatic that grows tiresome rather quickly.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he certainly has a penchant for self-promotion. But then, one could argue that every gentleman here has his own brand of theatrics.”

“True,” Gojo said, tilting his head slightly. “But what I find most fascinating is how you’ve managed to stand out amidst this display of pomp and circumstance. It’s not every day one encounters someone who seems so effortlessly poised, even in the face of such overt competition.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Gojo,” you said with a light laugh. “But I assure you, my composure is a carefully cultivated skill, not merely a natural state.”

“Ah, then I must commend your efforts,” Gojo said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a rare talent to maintain such grace under pressure. If I may be so bold, might I request the honor of a dance with you this evening? I promise to provide a diversion from the usual pretenses.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential benefits of engaging further with this intriguing man against the immediate demands of the evening. Finally, you offered him a meek smile. "Of course. I shall be delighted to dance this waltz with you."

Pleased, he guided you to the center of the ballroom, your hand elegantly placed in his. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph as you noticed Lady Mei Mei’s envious glances and the heated stares from other young ladies.

Gojo positioned his hand on your waist as you both assumed the proper stance for the dance. “So, how are you enjoying your night? I trust you’re finding pleasure amidst the horde of suitors the Queen has so graciously provided.”

You smiled demurely, carefully maneuvering around him. “Well, my lord, I am very grateful to the Queen for her blessing this season.” You took a delicate step, noting Gojo’s amused smile. “However, it is quite tiring to meet so many people. Repeating my preferences for the countryside or the city can become rather exhausting.”

Gojo’s smile widened as he guided you through a graceful turn. “And which do you prefer?”

“I would argue that the city is preferable when I feel lonely,” you said, gliding with him. “Yet the countryside is ideal for moments of solitude and reflection. Naturally, it also serves as a lovely setting for fond memories with a future husband.”

“What do you enjoy doing in nature?”.

“Embroidering or practicing the pianoforte,” you replied, making sure to display a wistful smile. “There is something particularly enchanting about playing the piano with the door open, letting nature's melody blend with the music.”

“Do you have any other talents or skills?” Gojo inquired as you both continued your dance.

“Yes,” you said, “I am fond of reading and immersing myself in literature. I also have a passion for the arts and languages.”

“Which languages do you speak?” he asked, guiding you through a series of intricate steps.

“I am well-versed in the classics⸺Latin and Greek. I’ve also picked up some French and Spanish, when I was yearning to follow my older brother through Europe for years.”

“What about literature? What do you enjoy reading?” Gojo pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your smile grew slightly strained as you felt the conversation veer towards an uncomfortable territory. You felt as if the duke was interviewing you for review of your admission into an academic institution rather than holding conversation. “I enjoy Byron, sir,” you said carefully.

Gojo hummed in approval. “And here I was, thinking all ladies were engrossed in Whistledown.”

“Ah, well,” you feigned a sigh, your smile tight. “Gossip has its charm for a lady, sometimes.”

“For men, too, I must admit,” Gojo said, tilting his head towards his group of friends. “But I must confess, it is rather unpleasant when the gossip circulates that I am a rake.”

That's because they're true, you whore. "I guess it's up to the smarter individuals in society to discern the truth from the slander."

Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he guided you through the final steps of the dance. “Indeed, it seems wisdom and discernment are valuable traits in navigating the labyrinth of society’s gossip.”

You nodded. “Quite so. It is the discerning few who see beyond the surface and recognize the true character of a person.”

As the music swelled to its concluding notes, Gojo drew you closer, his gaze fixed on you with a calculative expression. “And what is it that you seek to convey through your own character, Miss Itadori? In a world full of pretense, what do you wish to be known for?”

You maintained your practiced smile. "Mister Gojo, in a world where appearances often speak louder than words, I find it best to embody grace and humility. I hope to be seen as a gentle and devoted companion, one who supports and uplifts those around her.”

Gojo’s smile only sharpened, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of somehow being calculated, observed, even hunted as he offered, “A noble aspiration. It is refreshing to encounter someone who values authenticity amidst the artifice.”

As the final strains of the waltz came to an end, Gojo escorted you back to your starting position. He bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Itadori. It has been an evening of unexpected delights.”

You curtsied in return, your eyes meeting his with a demure and sincere expression. “The pleasure was mine, my lord. I am honored to have had this opportunity.”

With a final, charming smile, Gojo stepped back, giving you a nod. “Until we meet again, Miss Itadori. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

After Gojo had taken his leave, you found yourself once again surrounded by a steady stream of suitors eager to engage you in conversation. You indulged a few with polite discourse, your smile unwavering as you navigated the well-trodden paths of societal pleasantries. Despite your best efforts, fatigue began to set in, and you soon reached your limit.

Deciding to take a brief respite, you excused yourself with practiced grace. You made your way discreetly to the veranda, seeking solace and a breath of fresh air away from the relentless din of the ballroom. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the revelry faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers.

With your mind fresh and clear from the suffocating revelry, you couldn't help but reflect back on the night. With the Queen deeming you as the diamond of the season, you knew your mother and Choso had been appeased. Of course, tomorrow was going to be a long morning; judging by the sheer number of young men approaching you today, you knew many of them would be visiting your drawing room to converse with you and gain the approval of your brother.

There were some suitors that stood out. Lord Ino seemed to take genuine interest in what you had to say, but Mister Fushiguro had both interest and quiet respect that you couldn't help but think was ideal for a marriage. After all, you just wanted a peaceful life after securing yourself and your family. While brief, you had conversed a bit with both Duke Nanami and Lord Geto, but it had been interrupted by some of their friends inviting them onto the terrace. You were sure Naoya wouldn't bother showing his face tomorrow.

That left him. Blue eyes. You couldn't help but think you had heard about him somewhere.

Gojo.

Even though you couldn't recall much other than his rakish tendencies, the future title of Duke was certainly attractive and respectable. He wasn't so bad; with dashing looks, you couldn't help but simply think that a pretty face wouldn't be bad to look at for all those years. You snickered to yourself at your sheer display of vanity in your thoughts.

If you had to think of the most vain reasons to justify your suitors, Mister Gojo would definitely top your list of the most handsome of men. With a sturdy and healthy build, you could notice the years of dedication he must put in to maintain his athleticism. Perhaps archery, you thought. Those shoulders were definitely wide for days. Or maybe horse riding. He definitely seemed to fill in his pants with his thighs.

However, it was impossible to ignore his mischievous nature. You couldn't imagine a man such as the future Duke showing any outward display of affection, and all your interactions⸺from him outwitting Naoya, to interviewing you under the pretense of dancing⸺have always had him either besting or calculating the other converser. He definitely had a superiority complex, you rolled your eyes. Clearly, your display of the simple and stupid maiden pleased him. You wondered if he treated all the other ladies with the same level of disrespect and evaluation.

Deciding you were too far into the gardens, you turned the opposite direction to join the revelry once more in fear of attracting strange rumors about your presence in the gardens late at night. As soon as you got closer and closer to the ballroom, you heard voices.

"Ah, but there is the diamond, of course."

You perked up, interested in knowing who was talking about you. The voices seemed to be coming from the entrance between the terrace and the ballroom. "Of course, I understand why the Queen has deemed her so." Crouching, you aimed to discreetly hide behind a large trimmed bush in such a manner that if someone were to be passing by, you wouldn’t appear suspicious.

Another voice chimed in. “She is beautiful. Not in the salacious way Lady Mei Mei is, but in a more authentic and innocent way.”

“I fear the ladies nowadays are salacious⸺hungry for suitors with money and power⸺so it only makes sense that the ladies appear that way. But the diamond; she is different.”

A slap, as if someone was affectionately patted on the back for attention. “Yes, yes. But let the man of the night give us his assessment. After all, he is the one who is here tonight with us, finding a wife, when no one who had ever talked to him would ever think he would be doing such a thing.”

“Well, of course. It wouldn’t take a fool to know that marriage is basically imprisonment.” You could discern the speaker’s wry tone. “The goal here is to appease my parents, and my ticket to that is the diamond.”

“Well, get on with it,” a voice pressed, rather impatiently. “What’s your assessment?”

“A bit simpleminded.” Some feeling struck your lungs, as you recognized that it was Gojo’s voice that was speaking. You swallowed, your heart pounding as you waited for more harsh words to torrent upon you. “Has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. She’s perfectly fine for a wife. I shall begin courting her and will soon propose⸺"

You didn’t hear the rest because you soon found yourself dashing in the opposite direction, towards an alternate entrance to the ballroom. You couldn’t bear to hear any of the more degrading and embarrassing things Gojo had to say about you as you slowed your pace to a fast walk.

With the main entrance to the ballroom in sight, you thought about the other gentlemen⸺if you could even call them that⸺that must be present, conversing with Gojo. How widespread are these assessments of you? Do all gentlemen think you stupid? However, your thoughts are interrupted when you bump into someone, rather hard.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, putting a hand to your bosom as you try to catch your breath. You see Duke Nanami’s face in close proximity, as he furrows his brow in light worry. You’re clutching your forearms as you are heaving, trying to get oriented. “Yes,” you heave. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Nanami clearly didn’t accept your assurance as he helped you stand to your full height. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No, no, I assure you; I am quite alri⸺”

“Sister! There you are!” Yuji comes up from behind Nanami, and both of you turn to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you! The punch here is terrible, some of the mamas here are horribly intoxicated. Do you know Mei Mei’s mother just admit⸺” he cuts himself off as he observes Nanami, who’s still touching your arms, with wide eyes. “Di⸺Did I interrupt something?”

“NO, you didn’t.” You burst out, not wanting yet another man leaving with an unfavorable expression of you tonight. You and Nanami both take a step back to distance yourselves, and he clears his throat.

“Good night, Miss Itadori. Mister Itadori.” He gives you both curt bows as he makes his way past to his carriage.

Yuji blinks. “Oookay. Anyways. Mei Mei’s mother just barfed on top of Naoya as she was buttering him up. I must admit, Mei Mei and Naoya make a formidable match in being intolera⸺”

You could feel yourself filtering Yuji out as you thought about the gentlemen’s gossip from earlier. While you weren’t exactly surprised that Gojo appraised you as a pawn, you couldn’t help but be a little offended that he could talk behind your back. Who’s to predict the other naive ladies that would be subject to his callous and calculative behavior?

There was only one conclusion to be drawn that you swear to remember for the rest of the season: Gojo was not a man of honor, and you were not going to be one of his victims.

next. the aftermath

general masterlist | series masterlist

TAGLIST (join it by commenting under this post!):

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur

@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx

@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

2K notes · View notes

junkissed · 5 months ago

Text

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain.

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand.

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore.

"well…” jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.”

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin.

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body.

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily.

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair.

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh.

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob.

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again.

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in the replies

2K notes · View notes

windvexer · 5 months ago

Text

Theme and Action: a tarot method for brainstorming plots, setting, and characters

I find a lot of story brainstorming spreads to be clunky and rigid, so I did a little experimenting and came up with a method I like a lot. I haven't done a ton of testing yet but I thought I'd share what I have.

Basically, it's a two card draw from a deck split into majors and minors. Each draw always has one major card (theme) and one minor card (action).

When you have a question, like:

What are some ideas for the next scene?

Why would that character behave that way?

What's the defining characteristic of this vampire clan?

What do the people in this society fear most?

Why is this scene dragging?

What does this character need to feel more real?

You would draw one major card and one minor card!

Themes and Action; what it's about vs how it manifests

We could call these cards a bunch of different things depending on exactly how the question is framed, but Themes and Action are good enough.

Basically, the major arcana card gives subtext or context, and the minor arcana card provides specific incidents. Like this!:

"In my vampire setting, what is the most important thing in vampire culture?"

Theme: Death

Action: 10/Pentacles

Interpretation: (Theme) The most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) This has resulted in cultural rituals where death is treated as a sacred adoption or initiation into a new family/estate.

(I really drew this test spread and it really was death lol)

We can swap out the Action card to see a different outcome:

Theme: Death

Action: 5/Swords

Interpretation: (Theme) the most important thing in vampire culture is the process of dying and the equalizer of death itself. (Action) the horror of death and loss has never been overcome in this society, and it must be dealt with as an individual - because vampires process the pain of their own deaths by taking it out on each other.

Here's a different example. In an urban fantasy book where a witch solves ghost mysteries, pacing is dragging and we need our next scene to be exciting. But despite a foot chase after a suspected ghost poacher, the scene doesn't feel fast paced or exciting. The question is, "how do we spice this up?"

Theme: Hermit

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) instead of a crowded street, the character will be isolated and without normal support. (Action) she'll be trapped in a closed space with the story's main villain, who most closely connects with the King of Cups

Another swap, this time switching out the theme card:

Theme: Empress

Action: King of Cups

Interpretation: (Theme) the scene feels boring because it's action without development. Show the main character's personal development and give her a 'level up' moment. (Action) have the ghost poacher lead her to a premature showdown with the main villain, whom she faces bravely for the first time.

This is already long so I'm not going to go on and on with examples but so far I've found this method to be pretty versatile.

Try interpreting Theme and Action as literally as you can within the context of the story!

If you're writing a story about a flower princess who sleeps on a dewdrop in the mystical Gnarlwood Forest, the Sun card will mean one thing.

If you're writing a story about vampires, the Sun card probably means something very different.

Major arcanas can be literary themes, like the moon representing deceit within society, but they can also be literal; in a werewolf story, the Moon card might represent the celestial body that controls the lives of certain people.

The most important thing for me is to avoid interpreting the cards in a general self-help sense.

The cheerful villagers of prosperous Splitsky Castle are waiting for you to invent a festival so a mysterious stranger can come to town and get the plot going.

The question is, "what kind of festival gives me the right setup to pull off the plot point I want?"

The theme card is the Magician, so ideas for the festival could be:

A festival honoring magic users (if they exist in your setting)

A festival honoring the resourcefulness of the villagers

A festival of stage magic and trickery

The action card is the 6/Cups.

Probably, the festival is not about healing your inner child with Jungian shadow work. More contextual ideas might include:

A festival where children are chosen to be trained in magic

A festival celebrating teaching the next generation important skills

A festival meant to delight and entertain children with stage magic

Developing related factions or foils

Draw a major arcana card to identify a certain Theme, maybe along the lines of:

What do they hold to be sacred?

What do they not care about, or hate?

What is their most cherished virtue?

What is the defining feature of leadership?

When they sing about home, what is in their songs?

This theme will be the same for both entities.

Draw different minor arcana cards to show how each entity expresses that theme.

Conversely, work in the opposite direction: keep the minor arcana card for both entities, and swap out the theme card.

Finding Action cards when you know the Theme

Holding the deck so that it's facing you, thumb through the cards until you find the major arcana card that describes your theme. The most recent minor arcana card that was on top of it, even if separated by other majors, is the action card.

Reversals

I tend to read both cards as upright and reversed, and just apply whatever meanings are most relevant. In my experiments using reversals ended up being too finicky and specific, and limited my creativity.

Complex Concepts and Plots

For a complex reading, like plotting an entire novel or building an entire character, I have found more utility in doing many pair readings rather than doing one large spread with many pairs.

My tests so far have suggested that the most creative freedom is found in asking specific questions, like "what is this character's driving motivation," and "what is her quirky hobby," and "what makes her put up with her annoying best friend," rather than trying to build a giant spread that includes all of these things at once.

As a caveat, in plot spreads, I will sometimes put pairs down without returning them to the deck, and then connect Theme/Action pairs with single action cards to suggest events that connect the dots.

#tarot #tarot spreads #character spread #plot spread #setting spread #writing spread

264 notes · View notes

devsgames · 8 months ago

Text

HOT GAMEDEVS DON'T GATEKEEP

Inspired by this post by @midwinterhunt, here's a compilation of all the game dev resources I have come across, most of which I use fairly frequently. Most of these are free, some are paid but fairly cheap. Feel free to add your own resources. ✌️

Important reminder: When using basically any works or programs someone else created in your games, make sure you thoroughly understand the licenses and terms it has been shared with. If you don't know what the terms are, reach out to the resource and ask. Don't be lazy about this; it's not only dishonest but it can come back to bite you.

Engines

Unity - Best suited for mobile and multi-platform.

Unreal - Tailored for shooters and high-fidelity experiences.

PICO-8 - Virtual console for simple games

Godot - Open source and free!

GameMaker - Good for 2D games

Bitsy - Great little engine for making simple games and experiences

Construct - Never used but have heard nice things

Scratch - If you've never coded before, this is the best place to start. Great for young devs and those who want to get their feet wet.

Adventure Game Studio - Best suited for adventure games

RPG Maker - Best suited for top-down classic JRPG style games

Twine - Text-centric games like Interactive Fiction

Assets

OpenGameArt - Many assets, various licenses, and plenty of CC0 content.

Unity Store - For Unity only. Some free.

Unreal Store - For Unreal only. Some free.

Godot Asset Library

Jean Moreno's Toon Effects - Some of the best effects available on the Unity store. Unity only but I've used them in basically every project.

Steamworks.net C# Wrapper For Unity - Unity only C# wrapper for integrating Steam compatibility to your game

Itch.io - Plenty of free art assets and game dev resources

Kenney - Kenney makes tons of open-source assets for devs to use.

Art

Mixamo - Generates rigs for your humanoid models and lets you apply a library of free humanoid animations to them. Super helpful for prototyping. Adobe.

Blender - Free, open source and fully featured 3D program.

XNormal - Free offline normal map generator

Normal Map Online - Free online normal map generator

Crocotile - Cheap tool for building 3D models from sprite sheets

MagicaVoxel - Free voxel modelling tool

Piskel - Free online sprite drawing tool

Aesprite - Paid sprite drawing tool

TurboSquid - Not always great quality, but can be good source of free placeholders.

Textures.com - Limited texture downloads per day but free for personal use.

Pexels - Free stock photo resource. Most are free for commercial use. Check licenses.

Clipstudio - Good for illustration or graphic design. One time payment.

GIMP - Image editing program a-la Photoshop. Free.

Audio

Audacity - Free and fully-featured DAW/audio editor.

sfx.me - Free 8-bit synth-style sound effect generator for games.

CastingCallClub - Easy forum to find amateur voice talent for your project (p.s.: you should pay them).

FreeSound.org - Free sounds, searchable by license. A go-to for my audio needs.

Incompetech - Royalty-free music by Kevin McLeod.

Scott Buckley Music - Royalty free with conditions. Generally more on the cinematic side of things but very good stuff!

SoundCloud - 'Search -> By Track -> Filter: Use Commercially' leads to songs posted with allowance of commercial use. Always reach out to the artist to understand their terms and confirm that it's okay to use with your project.

Project Planning

Keymailer - Handy for mailing keys to influencers (don't expect a lot of traction unless you're paying for some of the features though).

Trello - Kanban board. Great for organizing tasks, managing bugs, etc. Free.

Notion - Private text and wiki page editor. Good for project organization, note taking, and fleshing out ideas. Free.

Obsidian - Alternative to Notion, with similar features.

Miro - Free whiteboard for organizing thoughts, images, brainstorming, etc.

Wave - Free Bookkeeping site. Great for keeping finances organized.

#gamedev #game development #game dev #indie games #indie game #gamedevelopment #indiegames #indiedev #indie dev #game developer #resources #blog

341 notes · View notes

allthornsnopetals · 6 months ago

Text

Prologue: Stain the Parchment E. Bridgerton

Description: Flora Deluca -Lady da silva- is the pen pow and beloved author of Eloise Bridgerton. With her travels around the world, Flora finally travels to Mayfair London, in the hopes to inquire inspiration for yet another successful story, one in London, away from France and Italy with the aid of her pen pow. Unknowingly enbarking her romance mini-series.

:Master list:

"Miss Flora, you have received a few more letters from your readers, a lot more." Said Claudia, lowering a stack of folded and sealed papers, all written from the same sender.

Eloise Bridgerton: A new and quite fond reader of Miss Flora Deluca's novels, poems and volumes. She always wrote but Flora only ever read her letters, too busy to answer all her fan mail, especially Miss Eloise, who writes so often, she simply could not read them all.

But tonight is different, it's stale, cold and without excitement. Once left in peace, she began to sift through each written text, enjoying the character of the writer. She found amusement in every letter, all with a different perspective on love, marriage and romance. To simply put it, Miss Eloise is anti-love, which is ironic given, the reminder that Flora's genre is predominantly romantic.

But Eloise doesn't seem to mind, enjoying star-cross lovers, unrequited love, right person wrong time and general adventure. Adventures throughout France and Italy, Flora's mother lands. The more she read the more interested she became, intrigued in the young lady, who seems to have a gift for literature. Ideas racked her mind, ones of adventure, travels and new stories.

Without a second thought, Flora began to write to Miss Eloise of London.

Dear Miss Eloise Bridgerton,

I find your mind fascinating, intriguing and fresh. I like your take on the topic of romance and the rights for women. I do hope you put it to good use, for a woman like yourself has skill and potential. I am to travel to Mayfair London in four months, before the debutante season of marriage, for my father is to inherit his family estate there, and I am to start a new life in the Ton. By your letters, you seem to be a local, someone to show me around and help me to settle in.

I do hope to see you, perhaps get some ideas for a new story.

Yours truly,

Lady da Silva

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Eloise, you have a letter from... Italy?" Violet turns the letter in her hand, holding it out to her daughter with great confusion.

Eloise cracks her gaze from her book, eyeing the parchment, snatching and ripping it open. "From Italy? From whom?" Hyacinth inquires, trying to see the letter.

Eloise scowls. "From no one, mind your own. It is not your business." Said Eloise, shooing her little sister away with Benedict slumping himself beside her, also very excited.

"Is it from Lady da Silva?" He questions in a hushed voice, wetting his lips.

The two share a love for the author and artist, who illustrates her own books and covers. Both, sending letters frequently, but only one receiving a reply.

With a gasp, Eloise clarifies their suspicions, her grin far too wide for a typical letter. "She likes my mind, she thinks it's rather fascinating," She gloats with a smirk. "And she's moving to London!" She screams, jumping for joy with Benedict, like fools, sharing an embrace.

"I am to write to her right away!" She runs up the main stairway, leaving her family in silent confusion.

Dear Lady da Silva,

I am greatly honored to receive word from you and to be given the opportunity to aid you in your next book. I have plenty of ideas, adventures, character personality and genres. How about a heroine? A woman hero, who embarks on a quest, an adventure.

I cannot wait to finally meet you, to brainstorm with you, to work with you! Your novels are legendary here, in the Ton, enjoyed by all— yes, even by men. Genevieve Delacroix, the modiste introduced me to your books— surprisingly we mingle a lot, discussing your books over tea and fittings. She too, is quite the literature, she adores your poems, always quoting those of affection, frequently, must I add.

She would love to meet you. Oh, and my brother, Benedict, who found himself looped into our little book club— if you can call it that— and writes to you as well, but it seems you have only replied to my letters, which I thank you greatly, truly. You bruised his heart for only replying to me, forcing him to quote your latest publish: Irony is of the Heart. Your best work, if it means, he too, is quoting your work.

I can't wait to see you,

Eloise Bridgerton

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Time flew by rather quickly, sending letters, the two made a connection, forging a friendship by letter, staining their parchments, their minds occupied with the other. The two became pen pows, rather quickly, their letters becoming more intimate and personal, Flora was beginning to think she were already with her.

Sooner than she thought, she were in Mayfair London, unpacking her chambers, decorating and finding new furniture for her study. Once sat for the night, she wrote to Eloise, informing her of her arrival and her need for new garments. Marking a time to meet and unknowingly a new beginning.

167 notes · View notes

sugarandspisces-writes · 8 months ago

Text

Kiss It Better Pt. I

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa engages in a game of kickball with her students and takes a nasty tumble. With the help of her colleagues, she makes her way to you, the school nurse.

Word Count: 4.6k

CW/TW: Mentions of hospitals and injuries

Although Melissa was a seasoned teacher, sometimes it was challenging to get into the swing of things after a nice vacation. While she was used to instructing two classes, the job still came with its fair share of tough days. The holiday break was much needed, considering it gave her time to recuperate from the first semester.

Originally, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere, and was fully content with spending two weeks at home with her feet kicked up. That was until she heard you complaining about the brutal winter weather. You weren't native to the north, and though you'd lived there for some time, you hadn't adjusted to the seasonal changes.

The more you mentioned it, the more she realized the feeling was mutual. She decided it wouldn't hurt to ring in the New Year differently, so the two of you brainstormed destinations and settled on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Florida. She had a guy who could get her discounted plane tickets and a hotel room for little to nothing. Before she knew it, she was getting sunkissed on Palm Beach. She’d be making a ton of ziti to return the favor, but the bottomless margaritas and adrenaline-filled nights at the casino were more than worth it.

It was now a week later and with her mind still on island time, she hoped for a relaxed first day back. The class was rowdy when they arrived, but that was to be expected. They were excited to be with each other after a couple of weeks away, but luckily they could themselves down without much of her guidance. So far the day was going well, and she was teaching her last morning lesson before recess.

The class was reading silently, making it the perfect time to catch up on some emails. Most of them were from parents, but she had one from Ava with the schedule of upcoming meetings for the remainder of the year. The first one was tomorrow morning meaning she had to wake up extra early.

She rolled her eyes, and the expression only intensified as she skimmed through the rest of the message. According to the principal, breakfast would be provided. However, the last time Ava promised to provide food, the “breakfast” in question was fun-sized boxes of cereal from the cafeteria. She would definitely need her extra-large Stanley Tucci mug to get through tomorrow morning.

She had one last email to read and was delighted to see your name attached to it. The message was marked as a priority, declaring the content to be urgent. It was a reminder for all teachers, asking them to collect and return the forms the students received before the break. As the school nurse, part of your job was ensuring that the kids had updated health records on file.

As for Melissa's class, just about everyone remembered to have their guardians fill out your forms, and she planned to give them to you later today. That prompted her to text you so she could see what your schedule looked like.

M: Hey, I’ll bring those forms to you during my planning period

↪ You sure? I don't mind stopping by your class later

You knew someone was bound to forget to deliver the forms, so you’d have to snag them at the end of the day.

M: I’ll bring them, hon. One less trip you’ll have to make.

Truthfully, the redhead wanted an excuse to see you, and her planning period conveniently took place when your day came to a lull.

↪ Thanks! You’re amazing!!

Melissa’s lips curled upward at your compliment.

M: I might sit with you for a few when I come down. Is that okay?

She was considerate of your job, and no matter how much she wanted to see you during the day, she never wanted to interfere with your work.

↪ Of course that’s okay. You’re always welcome. Just let me know when you’re headed down

For the most part, your relationship was under wraps. Everyone who needed to know was informed, and everyone else was left to assume. And assume they did, because your affinity for each other was a hot topic around the school. Abbott loved to talk, but Melissa had eyes and ears all over–literally.

She’d become acquaintances with a couple members of the camera crew, and their knowledge combined with Barb’s allowed her to obtain information from virtually every square inch of the building. Just about everything that was said made its way back to the source. However, it didn’t bother either of you. If anything, it was amusing, and you found fun in keeping everyone guessing.

Engaged in her reverie, Melissa didn't notice the child standing directly beside her until the small voice spoke. “Ms. Schemmenti.”

Startled by their presence, she nearly jumped out of her seat. A hand clutched at her chest causing the young girl to laugh. “Jeez, Mya!”

“Sorry.” She motioned toward the clock on the opposite side of the room. “Isn't it time for recess?

Melissa looked to where her student was pointing and saw it was 11:20 AM. Crap. They were supposed to be gone five minutes ago. She thanked the girl for telling her, then stood up to alert everyone else.

"Alright, my little eagles, it’s time for recess! We’re a little late because I got distracted, but you guys aren’t surprised, right?” A unison of “no” echoed around the room. “That was a rhetorical question, but thank you for the enthusiastic responses.”

She answered queries about the meaning of ‘rhetorical’, while everyone got their coats on. It was considerably cold, but not cold enough for the school to cancel outside activities. Melissa didn’t mind since this was her kid’s way of getting their energy out and she always made sure everyone had enough clothing on to protect them from the chill.

Once everyone was ready, they walked down the hall in formation. Melissa’s class was large, and while it could be hard to wrangle them all, they did a pretty good job at keeping each other in check.

“I can’t believe we lost a whole 5 minutes,” Daniel whined from the back of the line. It was quiet, but Melissa still heard, so she slowed her steps to meet him once he strolled by.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” When he didn’t respond she spoke again. “How about this? I’ll do a class vote, and then youse can decide what I owe you.”

Even though the boy accepted her apology, he still hung his head low. Melissa squeezed his shoulder for good measure, then let him free as they approached the doors that led outside.

“Melissa!” Janine shouted, waving the redhead over to her. “I was looking for you guys. What happened?”

“Hey, kid. I was reading emails and lost track of time.” Melissa explained as she walked over to the second grade teacher.

“I had a lot of those too! Did you see Ava sent that one email, like, three times? It was so weird,” she laughed and Melissa agreed. “I bet your kids were sad about being late, huh?”

“You shoulda seen their faces when I told them they lost some time,” Melissa shared. “I might as well have told them Santa wasn’t real.”

Janine stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, knowing the exact look Melissa was referring to. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still getting used to the flow of things too. The first day back is always a little rocky for me.”

“I’m usually okay, but I don’t know what happened today.” Melissa shrugged, looking off into the distance (Except she knew exactly what happened, and it was you).

“Well, they seem pretty happy now that they’re out here, so that’s good,” Janine noted.

“Yeah, but I’m sure I’ll be making it up to them for the next few weeks.” Melissa sighed and Janine nodded in agreement, knowing how relentless kids could be.

“Oh, one of your students is coming over here. I spoke too soon, it looks like he has a bone to pick with you.” She nudged the woman in her side.

Melissa narrowed her eyes before turning toward the student. “Hey, Daniel. What’s up?”

“Can you please play with us?” The little boy asked politely.

She looked across the playground and saw a group of students eyeing her expectantly. She couldn’t deny that it tugged at her heartstrings to see them so eager. However, playing with them wasn’t exactly on the agenda today.

“Oh, I don’t know, hon. There isn't much time left, and I’m sure you don’t want me slowing your game down.”

“Please, we really want you to play. And you said you’d make it up to us, remember?” He reminded her.

This wasn’t her ideal way of making it up, but when Melissa looked down at the boy’s big, hopeful eyes, she couldn’t say no. She looked toward Janine and of course, she was looking at her with just as much expectation as the kids. The next thing Melissa knew, she was involved in a lively kickball game.

“Ms. Schemmenti, Ivy’s cheating!” Tyler yelled as soon as Melissa stepped up to the makeshift base. “I caught the ball, so that means she’s out!”

“I’m not cheating! The ball slipped out of your hands, so I’m still in the game!” Ivy yelled back at him.

“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!” He teased. “You’re out!”

Melissa knew that it wouldn’t be an elementary school game if there wasn’t a little drama, but she had to hold her laughter back as she listened to their banter. “Okay, that’s enough, guys. Now, Tyler, tell me what happened again.”

“Ivy kicked the ball and I caught it, so that means she’s out.” He explained to her.

Instead of handling the situation herself, she decided to play the mediator. “Okay, How many people saw Tyler catch the ball?” Almost everyone raised their hand, so she turned to the girl to give her a sad smile. “Sorry, hon. You gotta follow the rules.”

“No fair!” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and began to stomp away.

Before she got far, Melissa gave the child a proposition. “Hey, how about I let you run the bases for me? That way you can stay in the game.” Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the running mood, and due to the cold, her joints were stiff. She also didn’t want the child to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. This way, everyone got what they wanted.

“Deal!” Her mood instantly changed, and Melissa received a wide grin and a high five.

“All right, Ivy’s gonna run for me.” She announced to the group.

“I think that’s against the rules.” Someone piped up from behind her.

“Well, I’ve got a bad knee, so I ain’t running anywhere.” The teacher emphasized her point by wagging her index finger from side to side.

“Well, Ms. Schemmenti, you did say we have to follow the rules.” Ivy recited the woman's recent words.

Melissa closed her eyes and released a sigh at the girl's remark, now regretting using that exact phrase. “Alright, Alright.” The teacher relented. As much as she wanted to disagree with the girl, she was right, and it would be unfair to go against her word. “I’ll run, but go easy on me.”

“Okay, everyone get into position!” Tyler yelled, alerting his classmates that the game was about to start. He rolled the ball down to the teacher, and the woman gave her best kick without using her full power. They were undoubtedly faster than her, but she was certainly stronger, and everyone needed a fair shot.

She then ran to first base and was pleased with herself at how quickly she got there. She hadn’t played a game like this in a while, so it was gratifying to see that she still could. The confidence boost allowed her to make it past the next two bases. Tyler hurled the ball in an attempt to get her out, and she dodged it.

Melissa soon realized that was a mistake once she tripped. The heel of her boot got caught on an uneven patch of grass and she failed to regain balance. Her ankle rolled inward and she collapsed with a thud. A series of gasps filled the air, and within seconds she was surrounded by concerned children. They were too scared to touch her, but that didn’t stop them from getting help.

“Teacher down! Teacher down!” A shrill voice shouted at the top of their lungs.

While Melissa was thankful for the effort, she was unhappy about the attention she now received. Embarrassment was an emotion she rarely felt, but today it was warranted. Listening to her students' frantic chatter gave her something to focus on other than the blush burning her face.

“Okay, let’s back up! Give Ms. Schemmenti some space, please!” Janine's voice of reason rang through all the chatter.

The kids inched away, but only far enough so Janine could have access. It was clear they were protective of their teacher, as they wouldn't take their eyes away for a second in case something were to happen.

Janine held her hand over her mouth as she kneeled in front of the woman. “Oh my God, Melissa! What happened? Are you okay? Can you get up?”

Once the crowd dissipated some, the woman felt she could move freely. She sat up, dusted her hands off, then brushed the debris from her clothes.

“M’fine,” she muttered in response to Janine’s frantic questioning.

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.” Janine noted her flushed cheeks and she could only imagine how she felt. Being that she’d embarrassed herself countless times, she had an idea, though she’d never been in this exact situation.

Melissa smoothed her hair back into place, ignoring the sympathetic look on the younger woman’s face. The expression made her want to crawl into a hole and never return. “Thank you for that riveting statement.”

She reached out for Janine’s hand, a silent invitation for her assistance, and felt herself being tugged into an upright position. She hadn't felt it at first, but once she planted her right foot on the ground, a searing pain shot through it. Reflexively, her arm slung across the shorter woman’s shoulder to keep herself steady. She hissed, then hung her head low in an attempt to conceal the pain on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Anxiety laced the junior teacher’s voice, but Melissa just ignored her, unable to simultaneously be in pain and answer questions. She took another step, thinking she could walk it off, but she was sorely mistaken. A groan slipped from her mouth and the sound shocked her as much as it did Janine.

The latter's steps halted, almost causing the injured woman to topple over. “Okay, you’re obviously hurt. I think you should go see Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, the redhead straightened her posture. There was no way in hell she would go to your office and interrupt your day for something minor like this. She wasn't bleeding or dying, so she wouldn't have you fussing over her when you had students to care for. “I'll be okay. I just need to make it to my classroom.”

Janine bit the inside of her cheek, a telltale sign that her worry was increasing. “I don’t know, Melissa. I think you should let them take a look at it.”

She tried to stand on her own to prove a point, but she simply couldn’t do it. The pain only grew with her efforts, and tears began to prick at her eyes. “Just let me sit down for a bit, okay? I’ll go see Y/N after lunch if it still hurts.”

Janine settled for the compromise and recruited a teacher to watch their kids while she got Melissa inside. It was a challenging effort, but miraculously, they made it back safely. They received a few strange looks from other staff members, but Janine warded their concerns away with a smile. Once they arrived, she helped Melissa get settled at her desk.

“Don’t worry about your class, I’ll bring them back,” Janine assured her. “Do you need anything while I’m here? I could get Barbara if she’s–”

Melissa immediately shook her head. The very last thing she needed was for Barb to find out. “That's okay.”

Janine gave a wary look in return, as she wasn’t expecting her coworker to deny that offer. “Are you sure?”

She huffed, sick of the questions, and took a beat before answering. “Just bring my kids back, please. That’s all I need right now.”

She wasn’t in any position to argue with that, so she accepted the task. “Okay, I’ll have them back in no time.”

“Thanks, pipsqueak,” Melissa said, causing the woman to take on a disgruntled look. Though she wasn't happy about the circumstances, she switched her tone to show her true appreciation. “Really, Janine, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, happy that she could complete a good deed for the day.

Moments later, Melissa was reunited with her rambunctious class. They came pouring in, not even bothering to take their coats off as they filled the empty space around her desk. Despite the considerable change in climate, they were too invested in her situation to care.

“We heard you fell.”

“Are the second graders in trouble?”

“Did you break your leg?!”

“Are you going to the hospital?”

“Who’s gonna take us to lunch?”

She broke her silence to address the last comment. “Really, Elijah? That’s what’s on your mind?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. S, but I’m starving.” He rubbed his belly in broad strokes.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna get to lunch on time.” While that was great news, it only answered one of their burning questions. They continued to stare her down and she caved at the sincerity. “I know I probably scared some of you, but I’m okay. My leg is not broken, and no, I will not be going to the hospital. Most importantly, no one is in trouble, capisce?”

When she received answers of understanding, she moved on to the next order of business. “Now, let me see who’s gonna walk youse to lunch.”

“Ms. Teagues can take us, or Mrs. Howard!” A student announced excitedly, waving in the direction of the door where both teachers were standing. However, Melissa was so focused on consoling her class and making sure they got fed, that she didn’t notice their presence.

She tried to roll toward the class phone, but it was on the opposite side of the desk. The feat was too large, so she grabbed her cell instead. She scrolled to Janine’s contact, internally swearing that this would be the last favor she asked of her. “Mrs. Howard might be busy, hon, so I think Ms. Teagues is our best bet.”

Elijah grabbed the woman’s attention again. “No, she's not. Mrs. Howard is right there.” He nodded toward the outskirts of the crowd.

Barbara’s deep eyes shone with concern as they met Melissa’s, but the redhead could only scrunch her face in confusion. What the hell? she thought, but it all made sense once she saw Janine sporting a guilt-ridden expression.

Her lips thinned into a smile as she tried to keep her composure. “Ms. Teagues, do you mind taking them to lunch? I’d appreciate it so much.”

Janine knew what that look meant, so she was quick to speak. “Not at all! Come on guys, grab your lunches if you brought one today.” Once everyone was ready, they made a swift exit because she didn't want to face Melissa’s wrath.

As the last footsteps trickled out, quiet fell over the teachers. Barbara’s eyes never left her best friend, inspecting her from head to toe, watching as Melissa twiddled her thumbs. It irked Barb that she wasn’t paying the slightest attention and she would not tolerate being blatantly ignored. “Melissa Schemmenti! Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

Melissa proceeded to avoid eye contact. She picked up a pen along with a stack of papers as if she were about to grade them. Her petulance sent Barb over the edge. If she didn’t want to tell her, that was fine, but she was tired of this little game.

“You know, I was trying to give you a chance to tell me yourself, but it seems you would rather act like a child.” The woman smirked, knowing her next words would get a reaction. “Janine already told me what happened.”

“I told her to keep her mouth shut!” Melissa curled her hands into fists and banged them against the wood. “I’m gonna kill that girl!”

“Not with one working ankle, you won’t,” Barbara quipped.

“I'll find someone to do it for me.” She shot back, not in the mood for jokes.

Barbara just rolled her eyes, disregarding her friend's dramatic nature. “So what’s your plan? Are you going to roll around in this chair all day?”

“Just leave it alone, will you?” Melissa was getting tired of the third degree from everyone. If she wanted to sit in her room all day, why did it matter to them? It was her injury, not theirs.

“I will not leave it alone! Not until you go see Y/N.”

She looked the older woman directly in her eyes for the first time today. “I’m not goin’, Barb.”

“You will, or I’ll tell them to come to you. Better yet, I'll drag you to an urgent care.” Barbara crossed her arms and gave Melissa a daring look.

“Oh, now you’re out of your mind,” Melissa scoffed. Even though they were in her classroom, if she could get up and walk away, she’d leave Barb right there with her delusions.

The woman gasped audibly at the insinuation that she was crazy. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me out of my mind.”

“You sure? 'Cause that sounds pretty insane to me.” She twisted her pen in a circle near her head, showcasing how absurd the idea sounded.

“No, Melissa, what's insane is you sitting here with an injury, making no attempts to seek medical attention, when there's a perfectly capable nurse in the building!” Her hands moved fervently as she spoke, the pearls around her neck rattling from the action. “Since you won't go on your own, I’ll get someone to take you.” With that, she marched out of the room, having had enough of her obstinacy.

“Barb, don’t you dare!” She yelled, but there was no use as the woman was halfway down the hall due to the speed she was walking.

She groaned in frustration, not faring well with having one working foot. The dull ache was a constant reminder of what occurred, and though she knew it was in her best interest to see you, she wasn't in enough pain to seek your help. But leave it to her colleagues to put their noses into her business.

She reached for her purse and rifled through it before pulling out a compact mirror. If she was going to be seen in this state, she wanted to make sure she looked presentable. As she met her reflection, she frowned. Her hair was out of place, her eyelashes were wonky, and there were a few spots where her makeup had smudged. She fixed what she could, applying lip gloss to finish her look. As she ran a brush through her strands, footsteps approached her room.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She threw her head back as Gregory came through her door. “Why are you here?”

Gregory almost looked as confused as her, and as he prepared to speak, Barb cut him off.

“To escort you to Y/N's office.” She smiled kindly, directing her pearly whites in Gregory's direction.

Melissa side-eyed the man, adding a mean mug to show her dismay. “But Barb, I don't need—”

“Ah, ah, no buts." She held a hand up to silence her. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go teach, but I expect you to have your injuries mended when you return.” She didn't walk away until she received final confirmation from Gregory.

“Oh, yeah, I'll make sure of it,” he promised. Though he was content with minding his business, he'd only agreed to this because Barb wouldn't take no for an answer.

Melissa sighed as the man moved to stand behind her, in preparation to wheel her out. She turned around so he could understand the grave meaning behind her words. “Just take me there. Don't ask any questions and don't tell anyone what you saw.”

“Oh, I already know how you roll.” After receiving another dirty look from the redhead, he noticed his poor choice of words. He tucked his lips into his mouth, then bowed his head before saying, “I'm sorry.”

You didn’t expect the first day back to be so crazy, but it had been jam-packed with injuries. Nose bleeds, headaches, fevers, stomach aches, you name it. You didn’t mind though because it made the day go faster. You had one more student to tend to before your break, so you decided to clean your office before their arrival. You disinfected the cots and countertops, as well as your little waiting area, and then you took inventory of your supplies and stocked up on whatever you’d need for the last half of the day.

“Hey, nurse Y/N!” Melissa’s student, Daniel, waved excitedly as he entered your office. He gave you a quick hug before retreating to his original spot.

“Hey, buddy! How was your break?” You loved hearing about what the kids did during their time off. He told you about the trip he took to visit family in New York, and how he got to spend the holidays with his grandmother who he hadn’t seen since he was a baby. He also mentioned all the good food he ate and the presents he received. “That’s awesome! It sounds like you had a great time.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great. What did you do?” The curious boy asked.

“I went to Florida,” you said casually, hoping to get a reaction out of him. When he gasped in shock, you flashed a grin in his direction.

“No way! That’s so much cooler than New York.” Daniel was infatuated with Florida, on the account of Disney World, and he made it known that he would save every penny ever given to him in hopes of being able to afford a ticket to the attraction.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t go see Mickey Mouse without you.” You knew the question was on the tip of his tongue. “But it was a pretty cool trip.”

“Ms. Schemmenti went to Florida too!” He informed you, still looking at you with stars in his eyes.

You smiled as he told you the bits and pieces that Melissa shared with his class, minus the details of her gambling adventures. However, you weren’t sure she left out 100% of the details, because Daniel recalled her saying that she would incorporate some new card games into their math lessons to “teach them some new strategies”. Leave it to Melissa to teach her students how to outsmart each other.

“It sounds like she had a lot of fun!” You exclaimed, taking in the events as if you weren’t there to experience them firsthand. Her students were ridiculously smart, so you were ready for him to catch on to the similarities in your story, but he didn’t.

You busied yourself with preparing his medication so he could make his way to the cafeteria. Daniel had cystic fibrosis, so he took pancreatic enzymes to aid his absorption of nutrients. He took them before every meal and snack, so he was a frequent flyer in your office. “Alright, dude, I got your pills ready. You just need to get some water.” He gladly accepted the paper cup from your hand and walked toward the water fountain.

You looked around the room as he took his meds, and the absence of another child caught your attention. Normally, Melissa utilized the buddy system to ensure that her students made it to their destination safely. “Did you walk here by yourself?”

“No, Ms. Teagues walked us to lunch today.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in pure confusion. “Why was Ms. Teagues taking you to lunch?”

“Ms. Schemmenti hurt herself so she couldn't take us,” he explained.

Hearing Melissa’s name in the same breath as the word ‘hurt’ made your heart rate pick up, but you kept a poker face. “Really? How’d that happen?”

A guilty expression crossed his face, and he released a deep breath before speaking. “Well, we were playing kickball during recess and she fell. It was kind of scary, but then she got up and everything was okay. At least I think she’s okay.”

“What makes you say that?” You tried to get as much information as you could before the bell rang, signaling that it was time for the younger kids’ lunch.

“She told us she wasn’t in pain, but I don’t think that’s true.”

You hadn’t assessed the woman yet, but you agreed with his statement because you knew how Melissa was. She worked hard to keep up her tough persona, but even the students could see past it sometimes. “You guys really roughed her up out there, huh?”

The boy shrugged sheepishly. “We didn’t mean for her to get hurt. She’s one of our favorite teachers, and we just wanted to have some fun.”

You could see he truly felt bad, so you attempted to cheer him up. “It was very nice of you guys to include her. I’m sure she appreciated that.” You smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, okay?”

He nodded, and with that, the bell rang. You walked him to the exit and sent him on his way, but now without a hug goodbye. “Have a good lunch. I’ll see you later for a snack.”

Once he made it down the hallway, you focused on the sight directly to your left: Melissa sitting in her desk chair with Gregory at her side, standing against the wall, as if he were her bodyguard (though that would be a pointless duty because everyone knew Melissa didn’t need a guard).

You motioned them into your office so they'd be out of the crossfire of hungry kids. The pair looked at you with blank faces, and you stared at them with your hands on your hips. “Well, what do we have here?”

A/N: Hey, how are ya? It’s been a while and I’ve missed writing immensely. I'm a little nervous about posting again, but I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! P.S. Special thanks to everyone who voted on the poll <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #sugarᥫ᭡writes

244 notes · View notes

atomicpowered · 7 months ago

Text

Last night my bestie of besties launched another kickstarter! (If you remember me talking about those gorgeous fullmetal tattoo like pins a... god, I guess it's a while ago now. This is the same bestie.) She doesn't have a tumblr so I am taking the liberty, (It's my pleasure really, I benefit too.) of slinging it here in front of you guys!

It's really ambitious, and I'm not gonna go super into it because she already has some nice copy to read on the site itself, but we have over 50, yes, Fifty, Five Zero, designs up for funding. And my specific blorbos wont get done unless we get them funds. This, of course, wont do!

I don't have to worry too much as of posting this it already is funded for the initial tier in only about an hour and a half of being live, but again, fifty designs.

I've helped a lot with the project both from a support angle and brainstorming! And when it comes time for the fulfillment portion of the exchange I will be seated in those trenches. Each design comes with floriography attached, and we both put a ton of thought into each choice! If you have a FMA character you like I am pretty damn sure they're gonna be here.

Please take a look, or at the very least share it around! Oh! Also if you backed the previous kickstarter I mentioned, you get COLOR VARIENTS! AND! If you back this one in the first 48 hours you get BLACK HAYATE! A must if you like the military crew, cute dogs, or are a completionist. For completion sake he's a must for any collection, so stop on down!

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fmabrotherhood #edward elric #alphonse elric #winry rockbell #trisha elric #van hohenheim #I am not tagging all fifty I am gonna just tag who's out right now. and then when other people come out I'll tag them specifically #I really want this project to do well #its giving me the confidence of getting my kickstarter stuff off the ground too #Lord help me I thought this didn't save so I wrote the whole post out again and there it was in my drafts kill me!!!

192 notes · View notes

nanawritesit · 9 months ago

Text

Trent Lane Boyfriend Headcanons! (SFW + NSFW under the cut)

(i just finished daria and have major Trent brain rot… but there’s like no content for him so i guess i have to write it myself :p)

SFW:

He writes songs about you all the time (they don’t always make sense but you still appreciate them)

Probably shows his love through physical touch or acts of service because he’s too broke to buy you gifts or take you anywhere nice 💀

He always has an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your waist, or is at least linking pinkies with you. If you’re next to him, he’s touching you in some way

And if you ever need help with chores or a project, he offers to do it for you or help you finish it (which is saying a lot because he’s usually lazy af)

Always gives you his jacket when it’s cold without you even having to ask him :)

Loves to lay his head on your chest and fall asleep after late night gigs… you struggle to roll him off of you in the morning because he sleeps like a log 😭

Calls you his “muse” occasionally

But he mostly calls you a cuter version of your name (like how he calls Jane “Janey,”) or just a simple “Babe” or “Hon”

Most of your dates are at the bars Mystik Spiral is playing at

You’ll hang out there for a while and get pizza afterwards, then probably smoke 🍃 in the tank

He asks your opinion on song lyrics, and you’ll help him brainstorm rhymes

The man is nocturnal so you have a ton of late night phone calls

You’re basically his sugar mama because again, he’s broke and unemployed

You have to reassure him that it doesn’t bother you all the time, in fact he’s *almost* considered getting a job just for you because he loves you that much 💞

(you can call him a deadbeat all you want. i would have no problem supporting my sweet baby girl 😤)

He also gets insecure sometimes that you’ll leave him for someone more educated or successful… you’ll have to explain to him that you don’t care about that stuff and that you love him regardless of it

His idea of a perfect day is just laying in bed with you all day long… he’s big on cuddles, either laying his head on your chest or nuzzling up into your neck :)

Although he also enjoys spooning you, or having you lay on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair (He’s the best cuddler ever, try to change my mind)

Also loves going to the music store with you, and any other shops you enjoy going to

If you like piercings, you’ll go on piercing dates together :)

If you’re nervous, he’ll hold your hand and talk you through it 💞

Keeping him company while he gets his tattoos

He likes to see what you buy for yourself so he can save up his money to buy you something nice for your birthday or anniversary 🥺

LOVES when you sleep in his t shirts ❤️ He thinks you look so hot

He doesn’t strike me as someone who has a specific type, he just likes whoever he gives with. You could be alternative like him or have the total opposite aesthetic, he just likes you for who you are 🥰

Desperately trying to get him to take care of himself by getting a better sleep schedule and maybe eating a piece of fruit every now and again 💀

Watching Sick Sad World with Jane and Daria

The two of them look up to you because you’re one of the few people they think are cool, they mostly ask you for advice on relationships, school, and resolving their disputes

Jane asking you to help her dye her hair after Daria ruined it 😀

You always encourage her and compliment her paintings, she sees you as a really cool older sister (except not actually because all of her relatives besides Trent are insane)

You try to help them out around the house with cooking and cleaning and buying groceries since their parents are never home

The other guys in the band tease him so hard because he talks about you constantly and always gets so happy when you call :)

Jesse was actually the one who set you guys up, and it makes him so happy to see you together

He keeps a picture of you on the dashboard of the tank just to make him smile whenever he sees it 💞

NSFW: (18+/ MDNI)

Lazy morning sex (even though it’s at like 4 pm) because it’s the best way to wake him up ;)

Having sex in the tank right before a show because he’s convinced he plays better after he fucks you

He’s a switch for sure, mostly because he doesn’t always have the energy to be on top

Really likes long make out sessions where you’re straddling his lap and he can run his hands all along your body

Looooves watching you ride him

But he also enjoys pinning you down and dominating you 👀

The cold metal of his rings against your skin drives you wild, especially when he’s fingering you

Will give you hickeys in the most obvious places because he thinks they look hot

Conversely, he loves it when you leave scratches down his back like you’re marking him as your territory

Listen, this man knows how to EAT 😤 (you’re probably the most nutritious thing he eats tbh)

He loves overstimulating you by making you cum on his tongue and then fucking you immediately after

But he also loves it when you return the favor… he can’t think of any better sight than you on your knees going down on him 😭

He knows that his voice turns you on and uses it against you to turn you on in public (which leads to the two of you running out to the tank for a quickie)

He’s really good at talking you through it 😫

Not super loud during sex, but he does grunt and swear a lot

And when he gets close to finishing he starts letting out some airy moans, mostly saying your name over and over

He’s not *super* freaky but he certainly knows how to show you a good time ;)

#trent lane #trent lane imagines #trent lane x reader #trent lane fanfic #trent lane scenarios #trent lane headcanons #daria mtv #daria imagines #daria fanfics #daria x reader #daria character imagines #daria scenarios #daria headcanons

200 notes · View notes

pinkanonwrites · 8 months ago

Note

you know another good one i havent seen mentioned yet? dumbification. just getting to turn your brain alllllllllll the way off sounds so, so nice, especially when its during/after some good good overstim. any bots you think would be into it, be it giving and/or receiving?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Okay this is a trope I really enjoy. It also goes hand-in-hand with hypnosis, and if you're into hypno @archie-sunshine has a TON of good art you need to check out. Okay, let's get into my thoughts!

For receiving, there are a LOT of bots who really deserve the opportunity to turn their brains off once in a while. But for the ones that really, really enjoy it? Swerve for SURE, Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, Brainstorm, and Misfire.

As for giving, Shockwave, Soundwave, and Prowl immediately come to mind as bots who would get off on having that level of control over their partner. If you were really stressed Drift would enjoy helping you unwind by fragging you stupid, as well as Rung.

Bots that like both giving and receiving include Rodimus (of course), First Aid, Jazz, and ROTB Mirage.

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #valveplug #tf headcanons #pink chat #anon #maccadam #nsft

127 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 7 months ago

Text

Plastic Hearts – Part 24

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, weed, smut, fluff, angst, more heartbreak

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Can't believe this is the second to last part. Our boy has come far 🥲🤍 If you look closely, you catch a couple of throwbacks. Also, tons of funny moments ahead with some severe stabbing of the heart on the side (last time, tho – I promise 🤞)

<< 23 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

24. Don't Dream It's Over

“Smoke that bong! Smoke that bong! Smoke that bong…”

Y/N hears the girls chanting and giggling as she hops into the common room of the motel on her crutches. She laughs a little as she finds the women in a circle, strewn all over the four couches as they pass a bong back and forth between them. The air is filled with smoke and reeks of reefer – a typical Friday night at the Dusty Spur.

“I thought this was a team meeting about finale ideas,” she teases with a slightly scolding eyebrow and finds a seat on the dingy carpet next to Jo, leaning her crutches against the couch and clumsily lowering herself to the floor with a grunt.

“We are. We just needed a little help with the brainstorming,” Ruby assures innocently and holds the bong out to her with a daring smirk. “Pipe down, Captain!”

Y/N snorts in amusement, shaking her head. “Guys, no. I don’t do drugs.”

“C’mon, last chance. You’re gonna be a cool kid and finally smoke with us or not?” Ruby’s grin widens as she seductively wiggles her eyebrows with a demonic glint.

Y/N sighs, sending her a raised look that’s a bit playful in nature and less chiding than it usually would’ve been. “That feels like peer pressure,” she notes but then smiles coyly. Honestly, after the night she’s had, she could use a little fun and forgetting. “But alright. Gimme that bong.”

Some of the girls holler and cheer as Ruby passes her the bong and even lights it for her while she takes a deep inhale. Jesus fucking Christ, the cloud of smoke blows straight to her head, her throat scratching with a cough. She already feels lighter as if she’s floating through the fabric of the universe.

“You’re a natural. Never been fucking prouder,” Ruby says with a dirty grin and hands the bong to Alex next. Honestly, that girl might have escaped straight from hell.

Jo snorts as she looks at Y/N’s widely blown pupils before her eyes land on the blue and green bruises that decorate her neck and clavicle. “You’ve got something there,” the blonde deadpans, gesturing with an arched brow to Y/N’s throat.

Flustered, Y/N swiftly pulls the collar of her jeans jacket higher, trying to hide the evidence on her skin. “Probably just fell weird or something…”

“Fell in what? A pit full of leeches?”

Y/N bashfully ignores Jo’s teasing and clears her throat. “Sorry I’m late. Those crutches really slow me down.”

But Jo throws her a knowing look. “You’re late ‘cause you’re boning Dean. Own it.”

“What, no…” Y/N scoffs. It’s probably her worst performance to date.

“You haven’t slept here in four weeks. Everyone knows,” Jo says bluntly, watching her friend’s cheeks redden with embarrassment and a trace of panic.

“They do?”

Jo then looks to the group, speaking louder. “Guys? Who here knows about Y/N and Dean?”

Several hands raise without a twitch of surprise on their faces. In fact, they even seem bored by the news.

“Duh,” Ruby says to drive the point home.

“Wait, Dean?” Charlie seems bewildered for a moment before she sighs and pulls out a $50 bill, handing it to a victoriously grinning Ruby. “Dammit.”

“Thank you,” party girl says happily and pockets the money before a few other girls hand her money as well. “Pay up, bitches!”

Y/N’s brow furrows in suspicion and some offense. “Were you guys betting on me?”

“No,” Missouri sings in nonchalance. “We were betting on who you were doing it with. Some of us thought it was Benny, some Dean.”

Y/N gasps as she watches Billie pull out her money as well. “You too?”

Billie shrugs unapologetically. “For the record, I thought your slutty ass was doin’ both of ‘em. Donna even thought you were doing them at the same time.”

You gape at the blonde in shock. “Donna!”

“A girl can dream,” is all Donna says with a twitch of her shoulders.

“I knew it was Dean,” Meg tells you. “I could smell his cologne on you. You also smelled like dick and sex.”

“Unbelievable,” Y/N mutters under her breath, feeling quite speechless. Another part of her feels relieved, though. No one seems to be mad at her. In fact, the girls all seem to digest the news quite well.

There’s suddenly an odd feeling festering in her heart, and her mind wanders back to Dean and the dance, wondering what he’s doing right now. But she fights the part of her that urges her to go back and be in his arms again. Has he been trying to tell her what she thinks he has? Was he about to say–

“You okay?” Jo’s voice hauls her back into the present moment.

“Fine,” Y/N says quietly, shrugging it off. Her eyes then search for Ruby. “Can I have that bong back please?”

Ruby smirks all too happily. “Of course. Look at you!”

As Y/N takes another hit to blast her sorrows into a cloud of reefer, Bela storms upset into the commons. The girls look at her worriedly as she plops down on the couch next to Cassie and pouts.

“I’m getting deported. Your government told me to leave the country in thirty days. I don’t want to go back to England and my awful parents,” Bela groans with a miserable look and crosses her arms as she sinks further into the couch cushions. “What am I going to do?”

“You could marry an American,” Donna suggests half-jokingly.

“Who?” Bela asks wryly with a roll of her eyes and throws her arms into the air. “You think it’s that easy to get a man to marry you?”

Y/N’s eyes widen, the weed hitting her fully. It feels a little like she’s floating outside of her body. “Oooh! Chucky!”

Jo lifts a brow at her suggestion. “Her pathetic stalker fanboy?”

“No! Fuck no!” Ruby huffs, vividly shaking her head. “I mean, perfect solution and no, I don’t have a better idea, but fucking no! The guy is a weird loser.”

“Yes! Marry the weird stalker loser and then divorce him once you’ve got your green card,” Y/N proposes, her red eyes only growing wider. She then gasps as if a giant lightbulb went on in her hazy brain. “Oh my God! Our final show! Season 1, it’s time for a wedding!”

“Not the worst idea,” Billie agrees and glances at Bela, who purses her lips in thought. She doesn’t seem convinced yet, though.

“Cambridge, heartbroken after she discovers Mick is a mannequin after all, finds true love in the arms of her number one fan, Chuck Shurley,” Y/N pitches excitedly, while Jo stifles a laugh next to her, hiding half her face in her blouse. “We’ll pull out all the stops, and you guys get married in the ring! You’re Chucky’s bride! You can finally ride in on a horse!”

Bela sways her head pensively from left to right. “Loving the idea a little more…” She giggles in nervous excitement. “I’ve always wanted a horse. You think Dean will go for it?”

“I’ll make him!” Y/N promises eagerly. Jo’s lips part for a moment, wanting to say something, but then she closes her mouth again.

Ruby raises a brow and deadpans, “How you’re gonna do that? Blow him?”

Y/N almost laughs hysterically. “Yes! This is our finale, you guys! I’m so fucking high! I’m overflowing with genius ideas! Now, I know why Dean does this all the time. Can I have more?”

Jo snorts a laugh, greatly amused. She shakes her head. “Oh no, you’re cut off…”

Even Ruby nods in agreement for once.

Y/N’s been MIA for two days when Dean strolls back into the gym on Monday morning after a really shitty weekend. Claire left with Lisa, but at least he managed to convince her to let his daughter visit during summer vacations and some holidays. He insisted on Halloween, which didn’t receive any protest from Lisa, and promised Claire they’d watch tons of slasher movies together. And when his kid left with tears in her eyes, he might have cried a little, too. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.

Y/N, on the other hand, hasn’t called once or even sent a damn smoke signal, so neither has he. She hasn’t slept over for the first time in goddamn weeks, leaving him cold turkey. So, Dean drank till he passed out on the bed and forgot that her side was depressingly empty while Phil Collins’ A Groovy Kind of Love played on repeat. It was a fucking new low for him in terms of musical taste. He didn’t do drugs, though, and was real proud of himself, considering all the emotional turmoil he’s currently going through.

His skin tingles, nerves sizzling with every step closer to the bleachers. His heart jumps out of his chest with excitement as soon as his green eyes spy Y/N in the ring with Billie and Donna. She looks absolutely stunning. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe before he shakes it off and finds a seat next to Jo, who’s already been impatiently waiting for him.

“We know what you’re thinking, ‘How can she wrestle with a cast?’” Billie throws out rhetorically, all of it feeling eerily like a high school presentation. What’s next? A fucking diorama? Dean knows they’re trying to help Y/N, but he’s already anticipating a bit of a disastrous train wreck.

“I’m the novelty act!” Y/N announces and tries to sell it with a proud grin. God, she’s so fucking cute, and it’s hot all the same. He loves when she gets all nerdy and desperate. It feels a little like a throwback to the time he met her.

“Yes, people love watching someone beat the odds. It’s an underdog story,” Donna adds. Honestly, Dean feels slightly like he accidentally switched on the home shopping channel, expecting them to sell him some broken crap shortly that he doesn’t need and will then rot in a closet somewhere in his house.

“Alright. Take it away. Let’s get this over with,” Dean tells them with a small sigh, ready to placate his not-girlfriend, who actually might not even be his not-girlfriend anymore. She’s his not-not-girlfriend.

The girls then start, and Jesus fuck, it’s not good. Dean can hardly believe they have even worked on this for weeks, but he knows they did. Y/N’s told him as much. He then notices how Jo sinks lower in her seat, her brow creasing and twitching, jaw clenching and lips pressing into a thin line.

“Oh my God, it’s all so slow and weird,” the blonde whispers only loud enough so he can hear. He usually doesn’t agree with her, but…

“Yeah, that’s why I tell her to just lie there whenever we… Never mind.” The green-eyed director clears his throat when Joanna sends him a chiding glare.

But truthfully, having sex with Y/N in a cast has been a bit of a challenge. He mostly just pushes her into a position and makes her do a little role-play without moving around too much. Fuck, he can’t believe he won’t get to nail her in all her moving glory once that cast comes off. It feels a little like a cosmic joke. Yes, you can finally have her but only with broken parts. Dean can hear God laughing upstairs.

“Anyways, she really wants to wrestle,” the director explains sympathetically, keeping one eye on the atrociously dreadful match in the ring for show. Sometimes, he smiles through his pain, too, and nods politely. The three seem to buy it so far. Maybe he should become an actor. “And the girls really want her to be in the ring, too…”

Jo groans under her breath and rolls her eyes quickly, not longer than a blink. She does her fake Miss America smile at her colleagues every once in a while. It’s not as good as Dean’s, though. “You’re weak,” she hisses snappily. “Y/N’s gonna be fine. She deserves the truth.”

Well, by that logic, Dean should also tell her he loves her, and that’s just a ridiculous idea.

“We can’t deliver a match like this. We’ve got network executives coming,” Joanna reminds him and makes a little more sense now. Dammit. Her eyes flicker to the ongoing match with a shudder. “Dean, make it be over, please.”

Dean takes one more look, too, and sees Y/N clumsily tumble to the mat in slow-motion. “Yeah, alright!” Dean jumps up from his chair and raises his voice, taking a few steps closer to the ring. “I’m sorry, ladies, but it’s not… It’s just not working,” he says apologetically and sees Y/N’s face fall.

Oh God, he used to enjoy seeing that face once, all sad and disappointed, but now he just wants to hug her and tell her he’s here for her. Kiss it better. Maybe run her a bubble bath. Just make her happy, you know?

What the fuck happened to him?

“It’s about to pick up steam, I swear!” Donna exclaims, all panicked. At least, Y/N has found great and very loyal friends.

“What if I rip my cast off and land one last move?” Y/N presents her next idea with a dramatic hand gesture and an elevator-pitch smile. It’s like a villainous salesperson trying to sell snake oil. Ah, there it is – the desperate twinkle in her eyes is back.

It’s like walking down memory lane today.

Of course, Y/N would break every idiotic bone in her body to be in this stupid, stupid, stupid show one last time. But don’t worry, Dean’s not going to let her do that. He’s not as insane as you think he is.

“Yeah, let’s not do that.” He shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Y/N blinks at him with puppy dog eyes and a fucking pout as she hops to the railing and leans on the ropes in her tiny leotard. “I might never wrestle again. I don’t wanna go out like this. Guys, please.” More pouting and begging. Where the fuck is he? Hell?! “Dean?”

The director glances back over his shoulder at Jo, close to whimpering. His eyebrows draw together, however, when the blonde mouths, “Weak.”

She shoots a small glare at Dean and clears her throat, looking at Y/N. “If we have a good enough show and get another network to sign us, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tumble around the ring again,” Jo argues with a convincing smile. She’s so wise all of a sudden. Dean wishes he would get that much clarity from a single line of coke. Since the accident, she seems like a whole other person.

Well, a smidge different.

Y/N seems to accept that bit of wisdom as well, although she lowers her head with a sniffle. Dean even recognizes a few tears brimming in her eyes as she nods defeatedly.

Internally, he sighs. That used to make him happy, too. Back then, when he cut her during auditions and she looked like he was destroying all her hopes and dreams. Back when she hated him so much and that hatred lit up her eyes, stoking the glowing embers of fire inside them. But now, he doesn’t see that hatred and recognizes something else.

That something makes him smile. His heart flutters. She loves him too, doesn’t she? She might never say it, but he can feel it without words.

Dean then rubs his palms together, an idea hitting him. He knows his Alma, after all. She wants to be needed, so he’ll need her. “Alright, how about you’re with me, huh? Co-directing!”

Her face lights up like the brightest spotlight beam. He's this close to hanging her over the ring and save some money on electricity. “Really?”

Dean purses his lips, hiding his smile underneath it. She’s so fucking cute. “Yeah, I mean, you’re gonna do it anyway, so let’s just make it official, alright?”

“Okay, imagine I’m the bride,” Dean says as he swoops through the ropes into the ring.

“Alright, picturing you in a white dress,” Y/N closes her eyes and teases, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her pink lips as she leans on her crutches.

The two of them had been working on the final episode for the last day, Y/N filling him in on her vision of a wrestling wedding. Then, Dean got to work and tried his hardest to make the magic happen. One good thing about co-directing with Y/N is that he can call as many meetings as he wants to under the pretense of the show.

The young actress still hasn’t stopped by his house yet or slept over, but at least he gets to spend the days with her. He actually loves the idea of a wedding. People surely are into that kind of shit – the love shit. And what’s a finale without some satisfying romance?

Dean scolds her with a look, playfully warning her. “Could we take this directors’ meeting seriously, please?”

Y/N hides her grin and gives him a nod. God, he’d love to spank her defiant ass right now.

“Okay, so, I’m the bride, standing right here underneath this beautiful arch in the middle of the ring, being all nervous…” Dean hears her snort a giggle before she stifles it when he sends her another admonishing little glare. The prop department (aka some of the girls) has built an obnoxiously pink balloon arch. “Alright, zoom in, and then bridesmaids are coming out one by one, sliding into the ring.”

“Bela will be riding in on a white horse, by the way,” Y/N declares more than she asks permission. “We’ll make it look like a unicorn.”

Dean curls his lips. “Is that negotiable?”

She firmly shakes her head. “No.”

Y/N’s not usually this confident or disagreeable, so he knows she has most likely conjured up a character role inside her head. Dean probably could tear it apart and make her cave if he really tried, but he doesn’t care enough about a fucking horse to do so. Guess he’s gotta make someone rent a horse somewhere and bring it to the gym.

Benny.

“Okay, I’ll allow it. Keep the horse,” Dean agrees, smirking like the devil on the inside. “So, who’s gonna give the bride away?”

“Why do we need someone to give her away?” Y/N shrugs. “Kinda sexist. She’s not a possession.”

“C’mon, you’re a pastor’s daughter. This is weddings 101.” Dean shakes his head in incredulity. You’d think a woman knows something like that.

Y/N snorts in amusement. “You would know, Mr. Divorced Twice.”

“Ha ha.” Dean narrows his eyes with a warning look. “I thought you girls fantasized about this shit your whole life.”

“Not me. That’s a gross generalization,” Y/N says and holds herself up by the ropes as she slides her crutches into the ring and follows them shortly after. Dean waits patiently till she’s back on her feet and sticks, standing next to him underneath the balloon arch. “I think we need a platform and some stairs leading up with an aisle through the bleachers.”

“Yes!” Dean agrees eagerly as they play off ideas and plan a fucking wedding of all things. He never would've thought they'd do it this soon. However, brainstorming with his Alma has always been his favorite part. Y/N’s still and forever will be his goddamn muse. “A platform, so everyone can get a good look at what true love looks like.”

His heart twinges as he looks at her and the way she smiles and gnaws on her bottom lip, swaying on her crutches. When has she gotten so close to him? He can smell her deliciously seductive perfume and feel her inviting and irresistible warmth. She’s so goddamn close that he could kiss her right now if he really wanted to. And fuck, does he want to.

The director subtly clears his throat, continuing, “Alright, next is, you know, vows… declarations of love… how they can’t live without one another.” His forest-green eyes find hers. He swallows thickly and takes a step closer. His heart skips a beat, and he can tell hers did, too. She sucks in a breath. “You know, fiction,” he adds and grins wryly. Y/N tilts her head, throwing him a look that says she doesn’t buy into his cynicism. Probably for the best since it’s all bullshit, anyways. “And then…”

“They kiss?” Y/N beguilingly smiles up at him, her eyes flashing to his lips. This time, it’s her who steps closer, her body only inches away from his at this point.

A soft smile forms on his freckled face. He dips his head, his fingers reaching underneath her chin and lifting her lips to his. They brush against each other for a few palpitating heartbeats before she parts her mouth and lets him slip inside. His massive hands roam from her cheeks to her neck and down her sides and waist and back up again. Her crutches fall to the mat by her sides as she locks her arms around him and seeks support on his body instead.

He kisses a path along her jawline and back to her ear, his teeth scraping her lobe. His hands hold her close by her waist and dent the taut flesh there. “Little risky, isn’t it? Since when are you okay with gym PDA?” he teases, his gravelly voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N chuckles softly and seeks his lips again, kissing him once, twice before she looks into his eyes, the tips of their noses touching. “They kinda already know.”

Amused, baffled, and most of all happy, Dean arches a brow. “Really?”

His heart melts onto the fucking butterflies in his belly till they’re screeching. Maybe he doesn’t need a wrecking ball and a bulldozer to conquer her heart by force. Maybe all it takes to win her over is just a billion tiny baby steps and a plethora of patience. The only problem with that is that Dean can hear the clock ticking away his precious time. There are only two days left till the final show and an impending goodbye.

Y/N nods without a sliver of panic. “Yeah, it sorta came out during our finale meeting. I took drugs.”

Dean blinks in sheer amazement. “I’m sorry, what? You were fun for once, and I missed it?” he teases, earning him a playful slap of his arm.

“Yeah, I smoked a bong and got high,” Y/N tells him with a clandestine grin like she’s sharing a secret only meant for his ears alone.

The green-eyed director snorts, however. “A bong? Reefer? Sweetheart, that barely counts as a drug.”

Y/N gasps, bewildered. “Sure it does! It’s illegal, Dean.”

“You’re such a nerd.” He grins down at her and cups her cheeks, pulling her back to his lips. His mouth wanders down to the column of her throat and the fading bruise there, sucking a new one into her skin. He’s so busy he doesn’t even hear the gym door open.

“Hey boss, might wanna focus that Hoover vacuum somewhere else. Like her clit,” Ruby hollers, laughing loudly as she passes the ring with a few other girls on their way to the changing rooms.

Y/N snorts into his chest, laughing as well. She tries to curb it, but her whole body is shaking in his arms. For weeks, Dean wanted the girls to finally know about them, so he could kiss her whenever and wherever he wanted to. He should’ve known that wish would come with a steep price.

The director heaves a sigh and caresses her cheekbone. “Wanna continue this meeting in my office?”

“Fuck,” Dean groans, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. He slows his thrusts a little, trying to rein himself in before he blows his entire load. He adjusts her legs around his waist and pulls her a few inches closer to the edge of his desk with a bruising grip on her hips.

“You need to hurry up. The show starts in ten minutes,” Y/N reminds him, giggling softly.

Hungrily, he claims her lips and kisses her breathless. “You need to come first.”

Y/N shakes her head before it falls back with a moan when his lips trail a wet path down her throat. “I already came four times. I’m tapped out.”

“Nah, I don’t buy it. I’m not stopping till you wet my dick again, sweetheart,” he threatens with a playful smirk. “So, if you want us to be punctual…”

Dean’s hand dives between them and pushes her leotard further out of the way till his fingers reach her clit properly. Although she’s not performing tonight, he still made her dress up in full hair, make-up, and costume. One, so he could fuck her exactly like this. And two, he still has a surprise in store for her that will surely get him his cock sucked later tonight.

He pushes deeply back inside her, slow and steady strokes of his cock that match the circles on her sensitive flesh. Y/N’s whimpers grow louder, her pussy grips him tighter, and her nails dig deeper into his shoulders.

“Oh shit, Dean! Fuck, that’s it…”

Y/N’s last orgasm is violent as she screams. He can tell it even hurt a little by the sheer force her cunt squeezes his dick. It’s not the small, regular pulses that happen with the first few. This climax feels more like an epileptic spasm, almost causing her to pass out as tears sting her eyes.

Dean can’t restrain himself any longer and spills into her throbbing pussy with a primal cry. When she’s steady enough, his hands let go of her hips and brush her cheeks, pressing kisses to her panting and pink lips.

He rests his sweaty forehead against hers and smiles crookedly. “Last night… You wanna come over to my place after the show? Have dinner with me, enjoy a few drinks?”

“Sounds good,” Y/N agrees and kisses him softly.

As soon as he slips out of her, the young actress then eagerly puts on her headphones and makes herself comfortable in his chair by the monitors, Dean taking a stand behind her. He honestly can’t help the proud grin on his face as he watches her. She’s come so fucking far.

“It’s a full house today. I think we’ve made something that people really love,” Y/N notes with a smile curving her features. It’s almost melancholic in nature. They both know it’s make or break tonight.

“Good. It’ll look great for the suits,” Dean says and leans his palms on the backrest of her chair, looking over her head at the screens.

“Crowley’s here, too.”

The green-eyed director groans slightly at that. “Maybe he came to apologize for being a spineless dickhead. Still can’t believe he left you alone in that hotel room. Probably should’ve bashed his car, too…” he grumbles.

Y/N’s brow raises as she finds his eyes over her shoulder. “Who’s car did you bash?”

“Uh…” Shit. “Dickbreath’s,” he confesses.

Y/N’s face softens. “Really? Why?”

Dean only throws her a look that says, ‘You know fucking why.’

“For me?”

“Yeah. Of course for you,” Dean tells her and pecks her crown affectionately. She smiles gratefully up at him, her eyes watery. He rolls his at her sentimentality, albeit his heart bawls in his ribcage out of sheer happiness. “Get to work. Don’t fuck this up.”

Y/N only snorts at his feigned sternness, not taking him seriously in the slightest. “Alright, boss.”

The music then starts with the classic Wedding March as the first bridesmaids slide into the ring in matching pink and gold leotards. Joanna’s character is, of course, the maid of honor and comes in last before Bela slowly rides down the aisle on a white horse with a pink glitter cone on its head.

“That horse better not shit in here,” Dean mutters and crosses his arms with a sternly knit brow.

“Oh, it’s definitely going to,” Y/N says with an amused chuckle.

Guess Dean will have to find some poor soul to clean all that shit up after the taping.

Benny.

“Where did you guys get that wedding dress from?” Dean asks curiously as he eyes the pompous and puffy princess puke with disdain.

“Oh, it’s Jo’s old one. We agreed to burn it in a dumpster in the parking lot after,” Y/N quips, laughing.

“So, you guys are really friends again?” Dean suspiciously quirks a brow. He hasn’t seen or heard anything to the contrary, but with these two you never know.

“Yeah, better than ever, actually.” Y/N smiles brightly. “She even offered to drive me to my audition in San Diego three days ago.”

“Hey! I was supposed to do that!”

The actress only shrugs. “You were busy.”

Dean purses his lips, his head bobbing. “So? How did it go?”

“Good, I think. They didn’t hate me straightaway. They even smiled. That’s-, uhm, that’s good, right?” With an insecure lip bite, she glances up at him.

Dean twitches his shoulders and gifts her a small smile of encouragement. “Yeah, maybe.”

He’d love to tell her she would surely land that role and hype her up like the best cheerleader in the country, but truth is, he doesn’t want to see her get crushed by the cruel machinery of Hollywood again. There are some things he can’t know nor control. Y/N’s career is one of those things. He wants to protect her heart, and in a way, he’s shielding her from too much disappointment.

“Yeah, I mean, I know I’m not gonna get it, so it’s fine,” she says as casually as possible and gulps, focusing back on the monitors in front of her. But Dean knows it’s a lie. She really seems to want it.

“What’s the part, anyway? You never told me.” Dean smiles interestedly. It feels a little surreal that, come tomorrow, she won’t walk through the doors of this gym anymore and work for him.

“Oh, uh, they’re doing a reimagining of fairytales. It’s pretty cool. I auditioned for Cinderella,” she tells him with bright excitement before trying to rein herself in again.

Admittedly, it sounds like the perfect fit. Evil step-sisters torturing her? She certainly has some experience in that department. Fucking great. Now, Dean’s got to muzzle his own excitement. He believes she might honestly get that stupid role.

“I object!”

Y/N and Dean stop the chitchatting and turn their strayed attention back to the sudden commotion in the ring. All they see is Bela standing with her fanboy underneath the balloon arch. Rufus is dressed in a priest costume and officiating, but then there’s also Cas, who swoops between the engaged couple and pulls Bela to the side.

“Garth, tighten up on this,” Y/N orders one of the camera operators as Dean puts his own headphones on, listening in.

There’s some vivid back and forth before Bela announces she won’t be marrying stalker fanboy Chucky, after all. She’s marrying Cas, instead.

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Love is fake, just like wrestling!” Chuck screams before the bridesmaids tackle him and throw him out of the ring. The crowd then does the rest and boos the guy out of the gym.

“Granted, this is some amazing television,” Dean notes but then shakes his head, furrowing his brow. “But what the fuck is Cas doing?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N snorts a laugh, amused, her eyes transfixed by the show below. “But Bela’s about to marry a millionaire without a prenup.”

Dean groans. “Oh Cas, you fucking idiot…”

As soon as the vows are exchanged, chaos ensues. The rules for tonight’s battle royal are: Whoever wins the bride’s bouquet, wins the plastic crown. It was Y/N’s idea.

“Y/N, stop humming Dammit Janet,” Dean warns her as soon as he hears the familiar melody again. She’s been doing it this whole week.

The girls then fall out of the ring one by one until only three remain: Joanna, Donna, and Meg.

“Hey, Benny, I want a close-up of Donna’s face as soon as she wins the crown,” Y/N commands into her microphone.

Dean laughs a little, his grin widening. “Oh, Donna’s not winning the crown.”

Her eyes dart to him, brow questioningly creasing. “Is Jo keeping it?”

Dean doesn’t answer her directly. Instead, he grabs her crutches. “Take your headphones off. That fuck before was enough warm-up, right? Ah, never mind. You'll be fine...” He quickly helps her to her feet as she keeps blinking at him in utter confusion. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Dean leads her outside the office and shows her to a zip line with a pulley, leading straight down to the ring. “Alright, don’t do some fancy shit and hurt yourself. Don’t make me regret this. Just catapult in with your foot out, okay? They all know you’re coming, so crown's yours.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything, but her lips begin to quiver before the first sob follows, a few tears escaping her eyes. She then hops over to him and slings her arms around his neck, crying softly into his chest.

“Okay, alright… Don’t fucking cry. You’re gonna be on TV. Get it together,” he reminds her firmly but can’t help the smile that flickers alive on his face. He rubs her back, hugging her briefly before he lets her go again.

But Y/N only stretches her neck and captures his lips in a passionate kiss. She steals his air right out of his lungs, her wet cheeks brushing his skin and beard. As she withdraws, her eyes find his, shimmering with words she can’t say out loud, although, for a heartbeat, Dean thinks she might. But she pecks his lips instead, her hands grabbing hold of the pulley.

Dean helps her onto the wooden railing and, upon her determined nod, gives her a little push. Cast first, she flies into the ring, the girls tumbling to the ground and rolling underneath the ropes like pins in a bowling alley.

Triumphantly, Y/N grabs the bouquet and takes a few victory laps around the ring before Rufus places the glittering plastic crown on her head. And while she jokes around and does her bit in full Russian persona, her grateful eyes never truly leave the director.

She flashes him a smile, and Dean knows then that he can’t keep it in any longer. It’s all or nothing, make or break tonight.

“This is the best night ever,” Y/N sighs and snuggles herself deeper into his arms, her head lying on his chest as they sit on the loveseat on Dean’s backyard porch and enjoy the quiet chirping of cicadas and splashing of sprinklers on the suburban grass.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees with helter-skelter heartbeats. His fingers grasp her a little tighter as he rests his chin on her crown and inhales her scent, trying to memorize it in case he won’t get to smell it ever again.

It feels like they’re an old married couple, cuddling on the porch under blankets. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they’d been doing this for thirty years. And as Y/N pointed out, he’s already been married twice, so at this point in his life, he truly knows when something feels real and unique. When something needs to be cherished and protected. None of his previous marriages have felt anything like this.

“You think the meeting with the network executives tomorrow will go well?” Y/N asks, glancing up at him as he thoughtfully nurses his beer.

“Maybe, we’ll see,” he sighs and pecks the top of her head. “You girls still planning on going on that insane camping trip tomorrow?”

Y/N giggles. “It’s not insane! It’s supposed to be relaxing. Just us and nature. It’s our last hurrah if you will.”

“You know what else is relaxing? A spa,” Dean retorts. “You guys are no campers. One or more of you is gonna be eaten by a mountain lion or a coyote come Monday.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Y/N laughs. “How can you still underestimate us after all this time?”

Dean only chuckles in amusement. “Sure you don’t want me to book you something in Palms Springs?”

“No,” Y/N insists, laughing. “I’m actually looking forward to this. I even got a trail map. I wanna go hiking.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a sound decision, considering you’re on crutches.” Dean snorts, rubbing his temples. At least a rattlesnake won’t be able to bite through the damn cast on her leg.

“A small hike,” Y/N adjusts her answer. She then twists her head back and cups one cheek, bringing his lips to hers. As she pulls back, she bites her lower lip, a smirk visible underneath. “I think I’m ready for dessert now.”

Dean smiles gently but stops her hand from crawling down his jeans. Fuck, he should get a medal for this. “Hold on a second, okay?”

“Is everything okay? You always want sex.” She looks the same amount baffled as she does worried – like he just ran into the middle of the 101 completely naked after escaping Betty Ford.

“Yeah, no, I-, uh, I just wanna talk for a second, alright?” Dean swallows harshly but is by far not courageous enough to look at her yet. His hand covers hers, drawing small circles with his thumb on the back of it. It’s more for his comfort than hers.

“Oh-kay…” Y/N chuckles nervously, lifting an eyebrow.

“I don’t want this to end, Y/N. I wanna give this a shot,” Dean confesses bravely and finally meets her eyes. His shoulders feel a million tons lighter as the words rush out. He’s caged them for so long in his heart, it almost feels odd to set them free now.

“What d’you mean?” Y/N straightens in her seat a little, her brow creasing more and more with every passing second. He knows it might go horribly wrong at this point, but he needs to get it all out in the open. Shoot his goddamn shot before it’s all too late. Dean wants to be buried with as little regrets as possible.

He has already accumulated enough of those over the years. His first two wives, not seeing Claire grow up, the drug addiction, and one godawful movie. He doesn’t want Y/N to be among those things.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you gotta know at this point.” Dean looks at her, gauging her reaction. But all he sees is a sea of confusion and denial.

“Know what?” Y/N starts to get defensive, so he does as well.

“That I’m in love with you,” Dean grits with some bark in his voice, which is probably not the best way to deliver a love declaration.

Y/N’s mouth parts, but no words come out. She looks shocked, but Dean can’t tell whether it’s because she really didn’t know or because she didn’t ever think he’d say it.

“I didn’t know…”

“Yes, you did,” Dean snaps, the anger and frustration inside of him surging. “Is this really how you’re gonna play it? C’mon, I know you want this, too.”

“I-I don’t, okay? I’m sorry if I misled you,” Y/N retreats further and blinks at him apologetically.

“Oh, you didn’t.” He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head at the audacious incredulity. A part of him hoped she would just admit it and say it back if he pushed her hard enough. But if anything, he knows she’s a stubborn one. “I mean, Jesus fuck, Y/N! Would you just stop being a fucking idiot?”

“I’m not being an idiot,” Y/N defends. “Why are you being mean?”

“You are, and I’m not! You’re just fucking frustrating me,” Dean huffs and takes a deep breath to calm down a little. How the hell is he supposed to get through that thick head of hers? “You’re really gonna throw all this away? You and me… what we have… Do you know how fucking rare that is? ‘Cause I fucking do. I’ve looked all my life for this… for you.”

“I-I thought this was just sex for you… You said this was just fun,” she argues.

“Do you really think that? Y/N, if all I wanted was easy fun, I would’ve kept fucking Bela,” Dean tells her bluntly and watches her gaze fall into her lap where she fumbles with her fingers.

“I don’t wanna lose you as my friend,” she says quietly.

“Well, you’re gonna. I can’t keep doing this with you. Either you love me, or you don’t. This is it,” he says plainly. Maybe an ultimatum isn’t the best way, but Dean can’t do it anymore. If he plays this game with her any longer, whatever is left of his plastic heart might disintegrate for fucking good. “I love you. I fucking love you.”

Y/N’s eyes begin to sting with tears. Her lower lip trembles as she swallows. “I-… I should go. I’m sorry.”

Clasping his mouth with a palm, Dean defeatedly falls back into the seat and stares up at the dark night sky above him. He nods, tears brimming in his green eyes. “Mhm, yeah, you should. Go. Fucking leave…”

Dean doesn’t look at her. He can’t watch her go, so he willfully keeps his eyes trained on the few stars that weren’t swallowed by light pollution till he hears the front door softly shut.

Fuck.

25. Dare

You're probably screaming right now, and I get it. But let's give our girl some time to think, alright? I have a feeling some stinging desert sun will help with that. After all, you can't have a finale without some satisfying romance 😏

Focus on the good and funny! What was your favorite moment of this part? 👑💖

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73

86 notes · View notes