#didn’t post today because i finally got a life (for a few hours)

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[chronic-cynic]

I do find it funny that the queer trio that I am in decided to meet on the first day of pride month after not having a meetup together in almost a year.

[likeumeanit9497]

just like that | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

based on this request :))

summary: after dating for four months without having sex, y/n finally decides that she's ready to take matt for a ride

warnings: smut; established relationship; unprotected p in v; oral (fem receiving); riding; mentions of questionable consent (NOT with matt dw); dirty talk; 18+

notes: damn i completely forgot about this im so sorry:/ i've just been so busy over the past week or so it completely went under the radar. def not my best work (i wrote it all today), but i wanted to get it up because i'm going on a trip through europe for 6 (SIX???!!?!?!) weeks and will probably not be able to post much when im there. anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

p.s. working on one more fic that i would LOVE to post before i leave tomorrow, if not it might be a while before im able to write again :/ it's gonna be a good one for the matt girlies though so keep ur eyes peeled ;)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Do you want anything from the kitchen baby?” Matt’s soft voice in my ear pulled me from the lull I was in, curled up beside him on the couch watching a movie. My drooping eyes fluttered open and I couldn’t help but smile once I came face-to-face with my beautiful boyfriend. The late-August sun was setting, and it shone through the living room windows in just the way that made Matt’s gorgeous blue eyes almost transparent; a harsh contrast to his dark eyelashes and tidy beard. He was looking at me with such unclouded care, the way he always did, and it never failed to make my heart flutter.

Matt and I had met on social media about six months ago, and started dating just two months after that. Our earliest conversations online had consisted of occasionally discussing our shared interest in pretty embarrassing hobbies — playing Minecraft, journaling, and watching rom-coms to name a few — but those occasional conversations evolved into staying up all night messaging each other, multiple-hour long Facetime calls, and eventually meeting at a restaurant for our first date.

Although it hadn’t been long since we started dating, Matt’s soul was one that I felt like I’ve known all my life. Never before had I felt more at home around another person than I did once I met him, and his presence in my life gave it a new level of stability that didn’t exist before. I had dated a guy in high school for almost two years, but the quality in the time spent with Matt versus him was incomparable. I was sure that Matt was the person that I was meant to be with, and everyday he did something new to prove that to be true without even trying.

Another thing that I loved so much about Matt was that, even after months of dating, he hasn’t once pushed me to have sex with him. In one of our early conversations, I had told him that my ex had always made me feel bad when I would turn down sex with him. While him and I did have sex a few times during our relationship, I had since come to terms with the fact that I really was just doing it to make him happy. Once Matt got over his immediate anger for me, he had sat me down and told me that he could wait forever, but that he won’t have sex with me unless I tell him I’m ready.

That was months ago, and still, he has kept his promise. While we have done plenty of other things in bed, he has always made it a point to stop everything before it gets to the point of sex. At first, I felt riddled with guilt because I felt like I should want to have sex with my boyfriend —especially one so kindhearted as Matt — but over time that guilt has fizzled out from Matt’s reassuring words and actions. He never ever put me in situations that he knew had the potential to make me uncomfortable, and wouldn’t allow me to feel bad about it either.

Lately, though, I had been feeling slightly different. While before, I would squirm at the thought of anything more happening once Matt’s hand would slip out of my panties, now I feel a slight tightening in my stomach at the idea of more. And before, I would feel a certain level of nervousness as I felt the weight of his member in my hand, where now there is a flutter in my core at the thought of that same part of him filling me up.

Never before in my life had I felt any of these feelings, and I didn’t quite know what to do with them. I was afraid of the abundance of dirty thoughts that flooded my own head constantly, and I realized that I was ready for more, but only with Matt. I had been contemplating on telling him this for the past week, but as I watched him walk back over to me on the couch in nothing but baggy grey sweats — the black ink of his tattoos hypnotizing me — my body reacted in such a way that let me know that tonight was the night.

“Here, I know you didn’t say you wanted anything but I grabbed you a water anyways. I haven’t seen you drink any yet today and you-” I cut Matt’s rambling off by climbing on top of his lap as soon as he was back on the couch; wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a deep kiss to his pink lips. He responded with a soft hum against my lips before wrapping his own arms around the small of my back. I opened my mouth slightly before pressing it against his again and moving them in a slow but passionate rhythm. Matt quickly followed suit, slipping his tongue through my parted lips before using it to explore my mouth. I fluttered my eyes open for a brief moment and caught a glimpse of Matt’s most beautiful features up close — lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, straight eyebrows — and released a satisfied sigh against his mouth.

I ran my hands through his soft brown hair, tugging slightly at the ends and eliciting a soft gasp from him as I felt my body flood with arousal. His hands travelled up and down my back, his firm yet somehow delicate touch a comfort that eased my nerves. From my place on his lap, I could feel a growing hardness against my ass. This wasn’t uncommon, obviously, but in the past I usually pretended to ignore it pressing against me. This time however, I rolled my hips up and down, feeling it slide against my aching core. “Baby.” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper against my lips, but the combination of shock and arousal was still evident in its tone as he grabbed firmly onto my forearms to hold me still.

I detached my mouth from his while still keeping our faces just centimetres apart. His breath was rapid, but so was mine as we stayed like that for a moment; wild eyed and equally uncertain. Finally, I repeated my action by grinding my hips against his clothed shaft; this time watching as his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He mumbled, clearly wavering between making sure I was okay and wanting desperately for more. I continued grinding my hips against him, my mouth dropping open as I felt his shaft reach my nerves. “I want you Matt.” I whispered, and I watched as his eyes widened in shock; pupils dilated. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly, brushing his knuckles softly against my arms.

“I mean, I’m ready. Ready to have sex again.” I blurted out, feeling my face immediately flush in equal parts nervousness and arousal as I waited for him to respond. His face was unreadable as he clearly tried to gauge whether or not I was serious. That was confirmed once he finally spoke. “A-are you sure? I don’t want you to think just because I’m hard we have to do anything, baby.” I felt his dick twitch in between my legs as he spoke, and it shot electricity down my spine. “I know Matt, but I really am sure.” I responded, running my hands up and down his bare chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in my path.

He continued to stare at me, his eyes travelling wildly across my face; clearly still in a state of uncertainty. I, on the other hand, was growing more and more frustrated by the moment as the heat continued to grow between my legs. “Give me your hand.” I stated, and he obliged; placing his much larger hand in my own. I guided his hand down to the waistband of my sweatpants, inside of the material, and finally slid it against my dripping wet core. Intaking a sharp breath from the contact, I watched his face as it immediately darkened once he felt my arousal coat his fingertips.

“See? I told you I’m ready,” I leaned forward slightly, bringing my lips to his exposed collarbone and kissing it wetly. “So please Matt, can you fuck me?” The room stayed silent for a beat, the only sounds being our ragged breathing, and I felt fear begin to trickle down my spine; worried that Matt might reject me. Just as I was about to retract everything I had just said, Matt’s hand snaked to the back of my head, guiding it up from his chest before crashing his lips onto mine.

I deepened the kiss immediately, feeling a mutual level of desperation like a surge of electricity between our lips that had never been there before. Matt’s hands began traveling all across my writhing body — taking his time on the curves of my ass — before planting firmly on my hips where he helped them grind against his rock hard member. Breathy, almost silent moans fell from both of our lips as our bodies slid against each other, and the deep-rooted sensation was taunting.

Matt’s hands slithered from my hips up to the bottom of my t-shirt, where he toyed with the material for a moment before detaching his lips from mine. “Can I take this off?” He asked, glazed eyes staring longingly into my own. I nodded, and without a moment’s hesitation my vision was blocked for a brief second by Matt peeling the fabric over my head and tossing it to the side. Once my vision returned, my view was of Matt’s hungry eyes glued to my bare chest.

Matt had seen my tits countless times before throughout our relationship, but at this moment it was like he was seeing them for the very first time. Mouth slightly parted, his breathing was ragged as he brought both hands to my chest and cupped my tits delicately between them; pushing them together slightly and brushing a thumb along each nipple. I hissed at the feeling, and that seemed to pull him from his trance, as his eyes immediately shot up to mine. “This okay baby?” He asked, and I nodded my head wildly.

A smirk toyed at the corners of his mouth before he attached it to my left nipple. I released short moans as he sucked and nibbled it gently, still pressing my core against his throbbing shaft. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into a trance that I had never experienced before, and it was like my body and mind had completely separated as I mindlessly tugged desperately at the waistband of his sweats. Catching on to my gesture, Matt shifted slightly below me before using one of his hands to haphazardly pull his sweats down slightly; allowing his cock to spring up in between my legs.

I gasped at the sight before me, only now realizing its true size with it between my legs and feeling just a tinge of excited fear trying to figure out just how it was going to fit inside of me. Shaking the thought from my mind, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth before spitting it in my hand and bringing it down to his shaft.

Running my thumb along his slit, I felt his whole body shudder below me from the contact. I began pumping my hand up and down his length; spending extra time twisting my wrist around his sensitive tip, and watched as his mouth went slack on my tits. “Mmm, keep doing it just like that baby.” He muttered against my plump skin, and I continued to work his cock in my hand while simultaneously grinding my core against its base. Just knowing that I was making him feel good was making me feel good, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head in pleasure.

After a few short moments, I felt Matt’s hands snake to the waist band of my own sweats. My eyes found his again, and I watched as they searched my face. “You’re sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with a huskiness that could only be explained as pure desire. I nodded desperately once again, feeling so pathetic but not capable of giving a shit. “I’m sure baby, please.” My voice had a slight whine to it, making my frantic need even more evident.

Planting a soft kiss to my lips, he grabbed firmly onto my sweats and began peeling them off of my body. I lifted my hips up slightly to assist him in this, and once I dropped them back down, I hissed from the feeling of my bare core against his cock. “Matty, I need you right now.” I practically cried out, leaning my body forward and planting nibbles and kisses along his exposed neck. The suspense was torturous, my body only just now recognizing how badly it was craving his.

His hands cupped my ass, and he used his grip to lift me just a couple inches off of him. I felt him spread me open slightly before dragging a finger once again against my aching folds. “Mmm, so wet for me baby.” I released a breathy moan at the combination of his touch and words, and squirmed in his grasp. “I’ll help you get it in, but I want you on top. That way you can take it as slow as you need to, okay?” His voice softened as he spoke, and his hands massaged me gently causing me to physically relax. “O-okay.” I muttered, so turned on that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted me to.

Just then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips before I felt the very tip of his cock brush against my opening; causing me to gasp. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll go slow.” He whispered in my ear, and I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck in anticipation. Finally, I felt my walls begin to expand as he pressed the first few inches into me. Moaning at the sensation, I felt my whole body flush in immediate lust. As if they had a mind of their own, my hips subconsciously began lowering onto his shaft; taking more and more of him as I sunk down.

A moan fell from his lips as my walls enveloped him inch by inch, and I slowly lifted my head from his neck and straightened my body up to allow more of him to fill me up. Even though he was big and I hadn’t had a dick in me in a long time, my slick arousal allowed him to bottom out without causing me to feel any pain; only indescribable pleasure. Once every inch of him was in me, I stayed still for a moment looking down at him. His desire was plastered across every inch of his face, and it made him look impossibly beautiful. There was no fear in me in that moment, only want, and so I began riding him.

As soon as I propelled my body up and down his shaft just once, I felt a pit of arousal begin to grow in my stomach. Groaning in pleasure, I continued with my moments; holding onto his shoulders to keep my trembling body stable. “Mmm you feel so good baby.” Matt moaned out, his eyes never leaving my pinched face. After a while, my body adjusted completely to his size and I was able to increase my speed. As I slid my walls up and down his shaft, Matt gripped onto my ass with all his might, using his hands to help me maintain my speed.

Moans fell from my lips as his cock ruthlessly hit my g-spot, and I felt my lower stomach build in pressure. “Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, feeling my skin go flush from the heat of the moment. The room filled with the echo of our wet skin slapping against each other, adding to the erotic air around us. Prolonged strings of moans fell aimlessly from my lips, and as I came closer and closer to my impending climax I began struggling to maintain my movements.

Matt seemed to pick up on this, as he adjusted his hips and began pounding into me from below; his hands holding me in place where I just clung onto him for dear life. “F-fuck Matty, like that. S-so good.” I cried out, my voice choppy from his rapid movements. My brain melted into a pool of liquid as all I could think about was reaching my high that was just out of reach. “You’re taking me so good baby.” Matt groaned out as he continued driving his length into me, staring deeply into my eyes with a fogged over expression.

“I-I think I’m gonna — oh god, think I’m g-gonna cum Matt.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, struggling to give into this new overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside of me. At this, a guttural moan fell from his lips and he somehow increased the speed of his thrusts even more. “Want you to cum around me baby, please.” There was a desperate whine to his voice as he spoke through his shortness of breath, and it was enough for me to reach my climax. Legs shaking, I released a plethora of moans and curses as my body was hit with multiple waves of indescribable pleasure. “Good girl, feels so good honey.” Matt’s voice was soft in my ear, and it helped to bring me back to earth as my hurricane of an orgasm left my body in shambles.

I continued to bounce on Matt’s dick slowly as I attempted to regain what little composure I had before my orgasm stole it from me, but I quickly learned that all of my energy had been stripped away. My body was trembling uncontrollably, and my head was filled with a fog that made it difficult for me to stay upright. Matt caught on to this, as he planted his hands firmly on my hips, keeping me still, before reaching forward and kissing me deeply. “You tired, baby?” He asked gently, rubbing circles on my sensitive skin. Sheepishly, I nodded, and Matt didn’t hesitate before guiding me off of his lap and helping me lay down on the couch.

As soon as my head hit the soft material, I felt my body immediately begin to relax again. I watched from my place on the couch as Matt began to slowly crawl over to me, before leaning above me. “You did so good baby,” He brought his lips to my chest and began dropping soft kisses against my skin, “Now,” His mouth travelled from my chest down to my stomach, “I want you to just lay here and relax,” He continued to move his lips down my stomach to my hips, “Let me make you feel good, okay?” His face was now hovering above my swollen heat, and I couldn’t help but nod frantically, feeling a sudden need to have his mouth on me.

Matt situated his body so that he could lay down with his face still just above my core. He brought both of his hands to my folds and I flinched as he used his thumbs to spread them apart slightly; exposing my bundle of nerves to the air. My vision partially skewed by his hair flopping in front of his eyes, I watched in awe as he brought his mouth closer and closer to where I needed it the most; before immediately gasping in pleasure once I felt his warm tongue make contact with my clit.

Immediately, Matt got to work in swirling his tongue in expert circles on my overstimulated nerves. This sensation in combination with his rough beard against my inner thighs was so intense it was almost painful in the best way possible, and I was incapable of controlling the throaty moans that fell from my lips as I watched him devour me entirely. Matt then used his mouth to suck on my nerves, bringing forward yet another new sensation that drove me crazy. It felt so unbelievably good, my hands flew to his hair where I held firmly; doing everything in my power to keep him in place. “Oh yeah baby, please, just like that.” I struggled to get the words out through my constant gasps of pleasure, but it was clear that they didn’t fall on deaf ears as Matt moaned in pleasured acknowledgement against my heat and kept his rhythm and pressure the exact same.

Feeling another orgasm begin to bear its teeth in my stomach, it was like my hips grew a mind of their own because as soon as Matt brought his hands under my ass to lift me slightly up on the couch; I began grinding my heat against his eager mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned against my clit as he continued to greedily suck and lick my nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut as a whine escaped my lips from an approaching orgasm, the pleasure that his mouth was giving me was too much. “S-stop baby.” I said suddenly, to which he immediately detached his mouth from me and I watched as his eyes scanned my fucked out face. “What’s wrong? You want to stop?” He seemed so concerned, clearly worried that he had somehow crossed a boundary, and it caused my chest to flutter. “N-no. It’s just, I was gonna cum again.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow, clearly confused by how that might be a problem. “I…I want to cum with you.” I finally said, and watched as his facial expression changed from one of concern back to one filled with lust.

He smiled quickly before dragging his body up my own, planting occasional kisses along my body on his way. Once he reached my head, he immediately began kissing me passionately, slipping his tongue through my parted lips and allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. Pulling away, I noticed my arousal laced throughout his beard, and that along with his pink swollen lips fresh off of my heat was enough to make my head spin. Just then, I felt him line his shaft up with my entrance, and immediately gasped out when he slid it in completely. Before moving at all, Matt took a moment to gaze down at my destroyed face before grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. He then leaned forward and propped himself on his forearms on either side of my head; slipping a hand through my hair and grabbing onto it gently.

After noticing my body relax, he finally began thrusting into me. Starting off slow and deep, he gradually increased his speed until he was pounding his inches deep into me at a rapid pace. Already being close to cumming, I struggled to get a grip on my thoughts as the pleasure of the moment pulled me deeper and deeper into a world of euphoria. “You’re so tight sweetheart.” He muttered through his grunts, and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head at his words. “F-feels so good Matty.” I managed to reply, tightening my legs around his waist as I tried everything I could to hold off my orgasm.

Matt’s hand snaked through my hair before he grabbed onto my cheek, brushing it gently with his thumb as he stared at me with a gaze so intense that it was almost intimidating. “I-I’m close Y/n.” He nearly whispered, and I felt his pace begin to slow slightly as he began to be overtaken by his own orgasm. My eyebrows knitted together as I felt my walls began to break. “M-me too.” I replied, wrapping my hands tightly around his biceps to keep me grounded. “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby.” His erotic words were followed by a string of animalistic grunts as he drove his cock in and out of me — slow but hard — and it was like my body was waiting to hear those words as my second orgasm immediately ran through me like a freight train.

My breathy moans harmonized with his deep ones, and I felt my walls contract around his shaft; milking his dick as it painted them white. My legs were wrapped so tightly around his waist, he was barely able to move them as we both rode the waves of our intense pleasure. As my orgasm continued to tear through me, my back arched off of the couch and my body trembled. From above me, Matt watched me writhe in bliss as his movements completely stopped. As I finally began coming down from my high, I felt his hand brush through my hair affectionately, and watched as his face turned up in a smile before he placed a deep kiss to my lips.

He gently pulled his cock out of me, causing me to wince from the raw pain, before laying beside me on the couch and pulling me into him. Face to face, we stared lovingly at each other for a moment; my mind still spinning from how good he had made me feel, and in that moment I was worried that my heart might explode. His blissed expression told me that he was feeling the same, and his hand delicately rubbing the small of my back confirmed it. “Are you okay?” He finally asked, minor concern visible on his beautiful face. “I’m more than okay.” I answered honestly with a chuckle, causing him to laugh in relief as well. “I think I actually love sex.” I continued, causing him to really laugh this time before planting a kiss on my sweat-beaded forehead. “Well I think I actually love you.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[thesiltverses]

A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

[euphoriaslux]

we can’t be friends

summary: you hate vincent. vincent hates you. and yet somehow you end up in his bedroom.

word count: 4262( i… am so sorry.)

warnings: fem reader, smut(f oral receiving) vincent being a meanie, drinking and smoking, disrespect of the french justice system (désolé) me making head canons about vincent’s family life, some mischaracterization of sandra (ily sandra huller)

a/n: folks i was locked in when i was writing this, can you tell because it’s autocapitalized? i was Serious! this was supposed to be like a thousand words and ended up being 4k… i apologize i have to spread my illness (being my obsession with swann). i had SO much fun writing this i hope yall enjoy, all the reblogs on my first post make me all warm and fuzzy. drop some requests if you’d like, and im going to make a masterpost of all the fictional characters im obsessed with bc i’m chronically online. i’ve reread this like a million times so if there are any spelling errors i simply do not see. enjoy!!! <3

You cannot fucking believe you’re going to be late to trial.

Well, actually, you can believe it. Somehow, during the two hours of sleep you got last night, you managed to unplug both your alarm clock and your phone charger, leaving you to blissfully sleep through the multiple alarms you had set the night before. It was only when your cat sprawled across your face, her paws tickling your eyelashes as she eagerly awaited her breakfast, that your body decided to wake you up. An hour after you were supposed to.

Your methodically planned out morning routine for the indictment today was quickly replaced by you sprinting around your apartment muttering curse words under your breath and trying not to trip over the copious amounts of documents on your floor. You nearly cried when your tangled hair would not cooperate with you, but somehow managed to make yourself look halfway presentable. You didn’t have the time to be stressed today, especially because of the attention you know this case is going to get.

And because you knew you were going to see him.

After driving like a bat out of hell in the Parisian rain, violating multiple traffic laws, you somehow make it to the courthouse only one minute late. Jogging up the steps, you push the door open and yell out apologies to the bewildered lawyers and judges in the courthouse as you sprint against the browned hardwood floor, your briefcase thumping against your side in tandem with your heartbeat. Your eyes scan the chamber numbers and you breathe a sigh of relief once you find the one that matched the summons notice, pausing to smooth down your pantsuit set and pat the beads of sweat off of your forehead.

You push open the chamber doors as gently as you can, but you quickly realize there is no use as every head in the room turns towards you, gawking at you. Some have a slight frown on their face, looking at you with thinly veiled pity, but most have a clear show of annoyance. With your head down you speedwalk over to your team’s side of the chambers, pulling out a few labeled folders before you place your briefcase next to your seat. You take a deep breath and force yourself to look up, and right across from you is the defendant’s lawyer.

Vincent is wearing a black turtleneck and a matching black blazer, with effortlessly swooped gray hair and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks perfect, too perfect, in a way that pisses you off. He’s already staring at you when you glance at him, his mouth slightly turned upward as he leans over to talk to his client Sandra, maintining eye contact with you as his whispers in her ear.

“Glad you made time to join us Mademoiselle,” the judge says as she shuffles some papers around, using a few fingers to wave over a magistrate to her right, ostensibly for the indictment sheets.

“I am so, so sorry I-” you start before the judge moves her hand to wave you off, finally sparing you a sharp glance.

“Enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed, yes?” she asks, and you almost start to answer before you realize it was rhetorical. There are a few quiet laughs in the courtroom and you fix your eyes on your folder, feeling like a child who was just scolded in class for sneaking a cookie from the lunchroom. You feel Vincent’s eyes on you but you don’t dare to look up. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Sandra was indicted, of course. This case was going to be a media circus because of her literary career, and you knew this was not going to be an open-and-shut case. Part of you hated trials like these - when the media would decide an angle that they found the most titillating and not leave a single person involved alone until they got a headline that matched their narrative. Another part of you, a massive part of you, hated working with Vincent. You could just constantly feel the smugness dripping off of him, and with every snarky comment and reply you could sense the anger just drilling deeper and deeper into you. Each interaction you had with him managed to make you even more and more mad. At least you’d hopefully only see him for another couple of months.

five months later

Like clockwork, you stepped out of your taxi to be bombarded by reporters with an endless sea of microphones and cameras, a cacophony of aggressive voices yelling your way. You keep your head down and try to push through the crowd, noticing Vincent talking to a reporter with Sandra to his side. You hear a few words, noticeably about Sandra’s innocence and the ignorance of the defense, and that word makes you stop in your tracks. Reporters are asking you questions but you look for the first microphone you can find and start to talk, making sure to project your voice.

“Judicial integrity is what’s most important to me. Not a narrative, not a story. I took an oath to protect this country. Some people don’t take that seriously, but I do, and that’s what I am focused on.”

There is a sea of follow-up questions but you weave through the hoard of people to the top steps of the courtroom, making your way inside. You arrived a bit early to trial today because you knew Daniel, Sandra’s son, was testifying today. You couldn’t shake the unease you’d had all week knowing you had to cross-examine him, seeing his grief-stricken face as he heard the prosecution and defense make a myriad of accusations about the one parent he had left.

“Were you talking about me?”

Vincent’s voice makes you jump, and you turn around to see him staring at you from behind the court pew. You must’ve had a look of confusion on your face because he then clarifies:

“Outside, when you were talking to the reporter from Euronews. Are you implying that I don’t have judicial integrity?” he cocks his head at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. You shrug, grabbing the manila folders with notes from your bag and putting them in front of your seat.

“If the shoe fits, I suppose,” you say with a tight smile as you sling your bag from your shoulder to under your chair. Vincent scoffs, lightly brushing his hair out of his face.

“Right, I should have looked to the attorney who walks in late smelling like cheap wine for… integrity,” he emphasizes that last word, each letter feeling incredibly loud in the silent courtroom. You feel the heat rise from the back of your neck, both in embarrassment and fury. You take a step towards him and he doesn’t move, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Do you think you’re any better? You took this case because you are plagued with this superiority complex that you have to subject everyone to.”

“Hm, so being a good lawyer makes you think I have a superiority complex, good to know,” Vincent says, touching his chin in mock curiosity. Jesus Christ, this guy irritates you.

“No actually, I think I figured it out,” you say with a laugh, poking your finger at his chest.

“Is it because you used to fuck Sandra, and this is some weird fucked up sort of foreplay that you’re forcing us to watch? I wonder if there’s a tape in evidence, of Sandra telling her now-dead husband how many times you two had shitty sex.”

Your sentence sits in the air as the smirk falls from Vincent’s face.

“Do not project whatever bullshit you’ve created in your mind onto me,” he says, staring at you with an intensity that makes you start to squirm.

“You don’t know me, Vincent,” you turn to end the conversation but Vincent grabs your arm, turning you back around to look at him.

“But I think I do,” he says, and you are so close that you can make out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket through his cloak is what’s pressing against your thigh.

“I think you put on this show, that you are meek and timid, but it is all an act. Every movement of yours is calculated. Nothing you do has any underpinning of integrity.”

You feel tears well in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, opening your mouth to speak as the chamber doors open and members of the jury begin to walk in.

“Fuck you,” you tear your arm away from his grip and walk back to your seat.

four months later

It’s been two weeks since the trial ended. The chaotic hustle and attention has died and reporters are gone, with no more requests for comment or interviews on morning TV filling up your inbox. You were called to the courthouse to go over some documentation that the court needed to provide a final report on the case, arriving late on a Saturday night. You shudder as you get out of the taxi, the chill of Paris air sparing no part of your body. You wrap your jacket around yourself and sit on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as you prepare to go into that same courtroom. You put your head in your hands and sit in silence for what feels like forever until a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

“Hey.”

You don’t move a muscle when you hear Vincent’s voice, hoping that somehow if you stayed completely still he’d believe you were a figment of his imagination and he’d leave you alone. Instead, he takes a seat next to you, the corduroy fabric of his trousers very gently grazing your skirt.

“If you’ve come to gloat, I’m truly not in the mood,” your say, your voice muffled by your hands over your mouth. Vincent says nothing but you hear him rustling through his pants and then the familiar click of a lighter, and you bring your face up to see Vincent taking a drag of a cigarette. He breathes out wafts of smoke, and after a beat, extends his hand towards you. You glance down at the cigarette and then back at him, and he is still looking forward at the architecture across from you. Plucking the cigarette from between his fingers you inhale deeply, tilting your head up to blow the smoke into the sky. You both sit in the quiet for a few moments as you smoke about half of the cigarette. He doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks, and you chuckle as you take another inhale.

“How do you think I feel?” you look to him and he nods, taking the cigarette from you. You try and ignore the tingly feeling in your stomach when his lips touch the same part of the cigarette that yours did, with no hesitation.

“Did you genuinely believe she was guilty?”

The question throws you off guard.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly, bringing your knees up to rest your hands on top of them.

“I don’t often think anything is too personal in a court of law, but that phone call with Sandra and Samuel felt, invasive?”

“It didn’t seem like you had any qualms when you were questioning about it,” he questions.

“Well of course not. I wanted to win.”

Vincent laughs, a real deep laugh, and you can’t help but crack a small smile at the noise. You realize you hadn’t heard it before, at least not before it preceded an insult hurled your way.

“What do you mean, invasive?”

It’s hard to collect your thoughts on his question, and you are suddenly transported back into that courtroom, listening to that call.

“It was like I felt every molecule of anger, resentment, disappointment. I just felt like I was right there in the middle, taking both of their punches. Like,” you take a beat, trying to formulate your words.

“Like I was their son, with no vision of what was happening but so desperately aware of the anger in the air. And feeling guilty that I caused it, somehow.”

Vincent hums.

“I’m sorry with how often I pried, about you and Sandra,” your voice is quiet, and you pick at the straps of your heels.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. The feelings I have for her have changed.”

This time you hum, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your years of knowing him, you feel bad about possibly making Vincent uncomfortable. You’re not sure why. You sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before you stand up, brushing the stray tufts of cigarette ash that stuck to your skirt.

“Well, I won’t keep you, I have to go turn in evidence of my defeat” you gesture towards the papers in your hands. “And you have to go celebrate, I presume.”

Vincent stands up as well, flicking the cigarette onto the floor and stomping it out with his boot.

“No celebrating for me,” he says with his hands raised. You smile, and he does the same.

“How will you be … coping?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“Not sure, probably at home with a really cheap bottle of wine.”

His lips purse as he puts his hands into his pockets. “I guess I deserve that.”

You rock slightly on your balls and feet, not sure if you should walk away from him or not. You’re just about to step out of his way when he starts talking.

“I have a nice Pinot Grigio I’ve been waiting to open, if you’d, you know, like to … join,” Vincent’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, and you swear you can see a soft pink hue on his cheeks, but perhaps that was the night playing tricks on you.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be,” he cuts you off. “I’ll wait for you out here?”

-

Vincent’s house - not apartment - was somehow exactly and nothing like what you would have imagined. It’s a one-story Victorian-style home with a dark exterior, but the inside is painted a warm yellow with tons of books littering the floors and walls and miscellanous trinkets and birthday cards tucked in between. There’s empty pizza boxes and wine bottles on the kitchen floor, and through his tall back window you can see a mini garden in his backyard, with vines of tomatoes and bushels of leafy greens sprawled amongst the grass. It looks very lived in - you can imagine Vincent waltzing around in the morning, reading his big law books with big glasses of wine, like the one you have in your hand right now.

The two of you are currently halfway deep into a bottle, talking about nothing and everything. The case, bad clients you’ve had before, your favorite pastry shops in Paris, the funny face that one of the Magistrates makes every time the Judge looked at him.

“Thank you for the wine monsieur,” you say with a dip of your head and an exaggerated bow.

Vincent shakes his head before taking a sip of wine, and you notice how the soft pink you thought you had noticed before has turned into a deep red from his forehead to his chest. Vincent being tipsy was such an odd thought to you that you couldn’t control your laughter, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you started to giggle incessantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Vincent giggles alongside you, and you shake your head no.

“The serious, smart lawyer is wine-drunk with the person he probably hates the most. I could not have imagined ever being in this situation,” you manage to collect yourself, putting your hand over your chest as you take the final sip in your glass and wave off Vincent as he motions to pour you another one.

“I don’t hate you,” Vincent mutters as he pours himself another glass of wine.

“You’re pretty good at acting like you do.”

He just nods. Suddenly the air in the room has changed, and it feels constricting. Like all of the arguments and venomous insults you’ve thrown at each other has coagulated in this massive living room

“I actually, um, envy you a lot of the time.”

“Envy me?” you can’t help your incredulous tone after his sentence. “You don’t have to say things to pity me, you know,” you laugh, but Vincent’s face is still serious.

“You are just naturally someone people want to spend time with. Even when you annoy me beyond belief, some part of me is always, drawn to you, I suppose. And I envy that. I don’t really know who I am without doing things for others.

You furrow your brows at his sentence. “What do you mean?” you lean over your chair to be a bit closer to him. He plays with the silver ring on his index finger.

“Sometimes I feel like the people I’ve loved, only want me when I can do something for them, you know? I mean, even my own mother, I remember- ” he stops to take a large sip of wine.

“I was almost done with primary school, and my Dad was gone on some inane business trip. I told her I wanted to go to a birthday party downtown, and that I wouldn’t be able to make dinner that night. She got so mad at me that she threw the bottle of wine she’d nearly finished at my head.” He swirls his wine glass around staring into it.

You put your hand on top of his, and he looks up at you, staring into your eyes before clasping his hand arond yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper. He shrugs, and before you can stop yourself, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a featherlike kiss against his skin. Vincent’s eyes are glassy, and he separates his fingers from yours to place his hand against your face, his thumb gently caressing your jaw.

“Do you have more cigarettes?” you ask, softening into his touch.

“In my bedroom.”

His statement - his ask - reverberates through your head as you both stare at each other, trying to discern what will happen next. Your thoughts are so loud that you’ve afraid that somehow they’ll extend out into the room.

is he saying what i think he is?

And normally, you would say a snarky remark about how he wishes he could get you in his bedroom, and how you’d rather die than see where he sleeps, but the wine has made you slightly woozy and all you can think about is how good he looks with his hair gently sticking to his face and his t-shirt tight around his arms, and what it would feel like to fuck him.

So you say “okay”, and leave your phone on the dining room table.

Vincent opens his bedroom door, moving to let you walk in first before closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak and before you can think your mouth is on his, and he’s shocked for a moment before he kisses you back, your lips melding together. You push your body into his as Vincent wraps his arms around your waist, his hands digging into your skin as he quietly moans into your mouth. Your intertwined bodies make it to the bed and he hovers on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you reach down to touch him over his jeans, feeling him shudder against you. You pull away from him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice is a little hoarser than it was before. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you pull your shirt over your head and tug at the bottom of his and he laughs he does the same, and you admire his shirtless body as he reaches back down to kiss you again, but he’s not as gentle this time. He’s aggressive, dipping his tongue into your mouth and holding your face in his hands.

“So beautiful”, he murmurs, tilting your head so he can suck on your neck and graze his teeth against the bruises spot he left. “So much more beautiful than I imagined”.

Your head falls back on the pillow as you feel his hands reach behind your back and unclip the hooks on your bra, his mouth moving to your breasts and licking your nipples.

“You’ve imagined me?” you pretend to be bashful as your mouth falls into an o-shape, feeling Vincent’s mouth on your chest and his hands on . He moans and you can feel it throughout your whole body as you lean down to shimmy out of your skirt and underwear in one move.

“In every way possible,” he says as he dips a finger down, past your belly button and into your cunt. You’d feel embarrassed at how wet you are already if his hand didn’t feel so good inside of you.

“I’ve thought about what you would taste like, how you would sound when I first fuck you for the first time,” his mouth moves down from your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your abdomen before he’s just above your heat and you sigh, involuntarily jerking your hips up. He puts his free hand around your lower stomach to hold you in place.

“But nothing,” he nips at the spot right in the crease of your hip, licking a long stripe just next to your heat.

“Could’ve come close to how pretty you really are.”

“Christ,” your hands grab fistfuls of Vincent’s sheets as his tongue finally swirls around your clit, pressing just a bit harder as he puts another finger inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach as you and Vincent’s grip on your stomach get firmer as you wriggle under his touch. He groans into your mouth as you start to grind your hips into him, fucking you faster with his fingers as he rolls his hips into the bed.

“Vincent,” you say with a gasp and grip his hair, pulling as you come around his mouth, your head dizzy with the feeling of Vincent’s tongue on you as he stares up at you from between your legs. He pulls his hand out of your cunt and licks his fingers before putting his mouth back on your clit, making you jump at the contact. You hiss as he licks the sensitive area, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tug so hard on Vincent’s hair that you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but if you are, he doesn’t stop you. He interlocks his fingers across your stomach and holds you into place, groaning into your clit.

“Okayokayokay,” you move your hands from his hair to head to pull him up, your breathing labored as you try to get yourself together. He leans over to kiss you, his lips softly molding against yours as you wrap your arms around his back.

Breathless, you move your hand down to touch Vincent but he quickly stops you.

“It’s- um-”

You look down and notice the wet spot on Vincent’s boxers, and your eyebrows raise to the top of your forehead as you come to the realization that he came while he was eating you out.

“Did you-”

Vincent groans, hiding his face in your neck as you giggle, coming down from your high.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you thread your fingers through his now disheveled hair. “It’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” Vincent looks at you with a questioning look but you just smile.

“Plus, we have all night to try again.”

-

You wake up in Vincent’s bedroom, with a few strips of sunlight peeking through Vincent’s closed blinds. You haphazardly reach over to his side of the bed to grab his arm, but find it empty, raising your head from the pillow to see that you’re completely alone. Vincent’s clothes that he had taken off during the night and tossed onto the floor were gone. You waited to see if you could hear Vincent in his kitchen, or in the garden, but you were in complete silence.

To be fair, he didn’t say anything last night to insinuate that he wanted a relationship with you, or even liked you. Maybe this was secretly a win for him - he could beat you in a courtroom, and now he got you in your most vulnerable state to declare that you actually felt something other than hatred for him. And maybe that’s all he wanted. You’re not sure why you expected anything differently.

You throw the blankets off of you and find your clothes neatly folded on his desk, and his courteousness manages to upset you even more. You put your clothes on and try to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you walk out of his bedroom and out towards his kitchen. You scan the room for your phone, which you swear you left on the dining room table, only to finally see it on top of a note on the kitchen counter written in messy cursive.

“Went out for cigarettes and coffee.

Bringing back croissants and a capuc- cappuccino.

Will be back in ten.

Go back to bed.

V”

-

taglist: @ghostlytide

graphic credits: @glasvera

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 1

Summary: You help Ethan get revenge on his ex that made his life hell.

Contains: Angst, Mentions of abusive behavior, Fluff-ish? idk, Oral - m and f receiving, rough sex, dom!-ish Ethan (If I missed anything, let me know!)

A/N: I SUCK because I've had this almost finished for TWO DAYS and I thought I was going to have the time to finish it. Also, if there are any spelling errors or whatever, I'm sorry😫 If I re-read something I've written too much I start to criticize it and this would've never gotten posted lmao

After your night with Ethan, you woke up determined to right the wrongs that your friends’ narrative created. You felt bad for him, because he was the sweetest, and he didn’t deserve all the hate he got from people that had no idea what the truth was. And the last thing you wanted was for the boy you were starting to fall for to change his mind and decide on transferring to a different school, even after he told you he’d stay.

Your friend kept texting you all night, so much that you finally had to put your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ just so you could get some sleep. Once you clicked on her message thread and had to scroll a few times to read all the stuff she’d sent you, you got an idea when you made it to the last text she’d sent.

‘How could you do that when it’s obvious I still have feelings for him?’

“Oh shit,” you said, rereading the message a couple times. “That’s it!”

You were about to text Ethan when you saw the ‘Good morning’ text he’d sent you, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you messaged him back.

You: Good morning

You: What are you doing today?

Ethan: I’m going to lunch with my friends soon, wanna join?

You: I wouldn’t be imposing?

Ethan: Not at all. Plus, I really want to see you

You: Where am I meeting you guys?

Ethan: You think I’m going to let you walk there by yourself?

Ethan: Meet me in front of your dorm in an hour

You: See you soon

When you walked outside, you saw Ethan leaning against the brick wall of your dorm. You ran up to him, a huge smile on your face as he pulled you close.

“Hey cutie,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. “How did you sleep?”

“I wish I slept a lot better,” you sighed, “Your ex was texting me all night.”

“Oh…why?” he asked, as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Someone told her I was kissing you at the party last night,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“What did she say?” he asked as he started to walk, leading the way towards the restaurant.

“That I betrayed her, that you’re going to hurt me just like you hurt her, and that she still has feelings for you.”

“Well, she can choke on her feelings,” he bluntly said, as you started to laugh. “I’m serious. She’s made my life hell.”

“I think I might know how to make things better for you, but I don’t know if you’ll like my idea,” you said, as he curiously looked over at you.

“What are you thinking?”

“What if you asked her to hang out? Like, just say that you miss her and you want to see her. Then you call her out on her bullshit, but record the conversation,” you said, as Ethan took a deep breath. “I can think of something else if you don’t want to be around her.”

“No, I think it’s a good idea,” he said, “I’m not sure if I can fake being nice to her, though. What if I see her and I just blow up on her?”

“I think you can do it,” you said, your thumb rubbing against the top of his hand. “Just think, you get her to confess that everything she’s said about you wasn’t true, and your life can go back to normal.”

“Normal sounds nice,” he said, glancing up to notice all the people looking at him. “I felt like I was invisible in high school. Now I can’t get people to stop staring at me.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re so cute,” you said, half-joking as you smiled at him. “I’m finding it hard to stop staring at you.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me blush,” he said, his free hand running across his face as he tried to compose himself from your flirting. “I think they’re staring right now because I’m with someone as beautiful as you.”

“Who’s making who blush now?” you asked, as he opened the restaurant door for you.

He led you over to the table where his friends were, introducing you to them as you sat down. You recognized Chad from the night before, and Ethan was just praying that he wouldn’t say something embarrassing.

“It’s nice to officially met you,” Chad said, “Ethan hasn’t shut up about you all morning.”

Ethan sighed in defeat as he looked over to his friend, “Seriously?”

“What? It’s true,” Chad shrugged, “He told me you convinced him to stay, which I’ve been trying to do for months.”

“I think things are about to get a lot easier for him,” you said, as Ethan smiled.

“She’s a genius,” he said, wrapping his arm around you. “Apparently my ex still has feelings for me. Fuck, I need to text her.” Ethan slid his phone out of his pocket and unblocked her number, before typing. “Does this sound okay?” he asked, showing you the ‘I miss you. can we talk?’ text.

“As long as you don’t actually miss her, then yeah,” you said, as Ethan started to laugh.

“Fuck no,” he said, as he pressed send.

“Wait…if she still has her feelings, why would she spread all those rumors?” Tara asked, as Mindy jumped in the conversation.

“She doesn’t want anyone else to have him.”

“That’s fucked up,” Chad said, as Ethan’s phone vibrated against the table.

Ethan looked over to you before he picked his phone up. You could tell he was nervous, you were, too.

“She asked me what I’m doing tonight,” he sighed, “She wants me to take her to dinner.”

“Do you feel comfortable with that?” you asked, his expression unreadable.

“Do you feel comfortable with that?” he questioned, “You know how she is. She’ll probably try to be affectionate.”

“I’ll kill her,” you said with a straight face as Ethan started to laugh. “I’m serious…if she touches you, she’s dead.”

“Ooh, what if we stake out at the restaurant,” Tara suggested, “We sit far enough away, but we can still see what’s going on.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ethan sighed, “I could only imagine what she’d say once she finds out it’s all bullshit. What if she says I put my hands on her or something?”

“You’ll have witnesses. I’ll come,” Chad said, as Mindy agreed to come along, too.

“Okay, I’m meeting her at 7,” he said, as his hand rubbed against your leg under the table.

Once everyone finished eating, you and Ethan were invited over to Tara’s. Ethan had other plans though, asking you if you wanted to go to his dorm for a little bit first. You agreed, because you wanted to spend alone time with him before he had to meet with his ex.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me going out with her tonight?” Ethan asked, once you’d made it back to his dorm. “I haven’t even taken you on our first date yet, and I’m taking her on one. It doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m okay with it as long as you don’t get sucked back in,” you said, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you sat down on his bed. “She’s good at convincing.”

“I won’t,” he promised, as he took a seat beside you. “The only one sucking me in is you.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say to her?” you asked, trying to fight the blush that was spreading to your cheeks.

“Well, I thought I’d start the conversation with the ‘I’m happy you wanted to see me’ and go from there. I think I’ll bring up the rumors and stuff after we start eating,” he sighed. “I hope she doesn’t deny it.”

“Just say you won’t give her another chance unless she admits it, because I told you she was the one spreading everything about you,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“I’m not throwing you under the bus like that.”

“She’s already pissed at me. Why does it matter?” you asked, “Because honestly, she’s not my friend, not if she’s that shitty of a person. I don’t care what she thinks about me.”

“What if she starts shit about you, too?” he questioned, making you scoff.

“What can she say about me? Everyone will know she’s a liar after tonight.”

You talked with Ethan for a while about the right things to say and do, and as the hours started to pass, he was getting really stressed. He laid back on the bed and pulled you close to cuddle.

“We should probably go to Tara’s soon,” he said, as his fingertips rubbed across your back. With the lack of sleep from the night before, you were starting to feel really drowsy with the soothing motions. “Fuck, I’m so worried that I’ll just snap once I see her. I feel myself getting angrier.”

“You have every right to feel that way,” you said, as your hand rubbed across his stomach. “But I might know I way for you to release some of that tension.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, already having a hunch with the suggestiveness in your tone. You didn’t say anything as your hand traveled lower, running over the slight bulge in his jeans. You felt him getting harder the longer you rubbed, his hips shifting as he tried to get comfortable.

You sat up to look at him before your hand reached up to the button of his jeans. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night,” you said, your eyes on his as you slid his zipper down. “No one’s ever made me cum as hard as you did.”

You started to tug on his jeans as he lifted his hips, making it a little easier for you to get them down.

“Do you want me to make you cum right now?” he asked, as you laughed and shook your head.

“No, baby. I’m going to take care of you,” you said, sliding his boxers down. He gasped the second his cock sprang free from the confines of his boxers, your hand moving to lazily stroke it as he watched you, his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I’ve been dying to do this.”

With his size, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fit all of it in your mouth, but you were determined to make him feel so good that the only thing he thought about on his fake date with your friend was you. You started with his tip, your tongue swirling around it. You paid extra attention to the underside the head of his cock because he kept gasping every time your tongue brushed against it. Then you slowly started to take him in your mouth, as his hand went to your hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed, as he watched you. He thought you were always beautiful but seeing you like this made him even more attracted to you. Your eagerness to please him just like he took care of you the night before showed him how down for him you really were, and the way that you thought of a plan to help him get his life back to normal had him falling for you harder than he expected to, at least this soon.

Once you started to gag, his hand that was resting loosely in your hair started to pull it a little, the feeling making you moan around him. You just kept going, the drool from all your gagging starting to drip down his cock. You reached your hand up to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, as your cheeks hollowed and how head started to bob.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned once your hand started to twist a little. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

His praise motivated you even more, your head moving quicker as he struggled to keep quiet. Not that he needed to be, but he had so many different sounds threatening to slip past his lips. He was fighting to keep his hips still. It was taking everything in him to not thrust into your mouth. You noticed that he was holding back, so you pulled away, your hand still moving as you looked at him. Your eyes were glassy from all the tears that formed, your lips were swollen, and Ethan was just so in awe of you.

“You don’t have to just lay there,” you said, the slight rasp in your voice from all the gagging quickly becoming his new favorite sound. “I can take it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, as you mumbled a “Mhm.”

You took him back in your mouth, and it didn’t take long for his hips to thrust. Your hand kept you from taking more than you could handle, but you were still gagging so much. Every time your throat tightened; Ethan felt himself getting closer to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his hand tugging on your hair as his hips stuttered.

You glanced up to see him as his orgasm hit. His eyes were fluttering as the salty liquid coated your taste buds, his head rolling back. The grip he had on your hair loosened as you slowed down, before you slid him out of your mouth.

“How was that?” you asked, as he tore his gaze away from the ceiling to look at you. He had a goofy smile on his face as his hands reached out to grab you and pull you close.

“That was perfect, babe,” he said, as he started to get a little curious. “How’d you get so good at that?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” you playfully said, as he chuckled. “We really should go to Tara’s.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking if you guys go to the restaurant early, she would be less likely to see you,” he said, as his hands started to rub your back again.

“We better go now, because you’re going to make me fall asleep,” you said, pushing yourself off his chest.

Once you made it to Tara’s, Ethan was way calmer than he was before. You knew the plan would work, but now you had more confidence that he’d be able to keep his cool. When everyone said they were ready to go, Ethan wrapped his hands around your waist from behind you. You turned to face him, a sweet smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Thank you,” he said, as you curiously looked at him.

“For what?”

“For being amazing,” he said, stealing one more kiss as Mindy fake-gagged in the background.

“Okay, if we’re going to make it to the restaurant before them, we need to go now,” she said, as you hesitantly pulled away from Ethan.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, following Ethan’s friends out the door.

Once Ethan and his ex made it to the restaurant, you could feel the jealousy building. You saw the simple touches against his arm, the flirty smile on her lips. You felt your blood start to boil as you huffed and turned your attention to his friends.

“You okay?” Tara asked, noticing the pissed expression on your face.

“She was touching him,” you said, glancing back over to see them seated at the table.

“You really like him, huh?” Chad asked, as you felt your cheeks start to heat up.

“Yeah,” you said, your angry expression turning into a smile as you thought about Ethan.

“He really likes you too,” Tara said, as Chad nodded.

“Yeah, I told you, he wouldn’t shut up about you this morning.”

Everyone kept glancing towards Ethan’s table, but you were trying so hard not to. You just wanted to focus on eating the food in front of you, even though you didn’t have much of an appetite. You didn’t want to see him doing what he could to get the confession out of her, but once Mindy mumbled “Oh shit.” you finally looked up.

“Are they arguing?” Tara asked, as Chad nodded.

“He looks pissed.”

You watched your friend try to grab Ethan’s hand on the top of the table, but he pulled it away before he stood up. He searched the restaurant for the table that you were at before he walked over.

“I got her confession. Let’s go, babe,” he said, as you stood up. He took your hand in his before he turned to Chad. “I’ll send you money for her food. Is that cool?”

“Yeah, we’ll leave soon. You want to come back to Tara’s?” Chad said, as Ethan shrugged.

“Not right now, I need to blow off some steam.”

Your heart started to pound, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach as he walked with you. You weren’t sure how he wanted to let out his aggression, but you really hoped that it’d be in his bed. He led you out of the restaurant, your hand in his. Once your friend saw, she jumped up from the table and followed you outside.

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your shoulder after she caught up to you.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, turning to face her.

“What the fuck was all of this?” she asked, as Ethan tried to pull you away. “Honey, he doesn’t want you if he asked me out tonight.”

“Honey, he asked you out tonight so you’d confess to all the fucked up things you’ve said about him,” you yelled, your words full of venom as she started to laugh.

“Aww, are you trying to get people to believe that he isn’t some asshole?” she asked, and your hands involuntarily clenched at your sides. You were furious with the smug look on her face and the snarky tone. “Good luck trying to prove it.”

“I’ll prove it,” Ethan said, as he started to play back the video so she could hear it. Her face dropped, before she tried to grab his phone from his hands.

“Aww, are you worried everyone’s going to find out how much of a lying bitch you are?” you asked, your tone matching hers as she started to get mad. “You can’t just fuck up someone’s life and get away with it.”

Your conversation with her wasn’t quiet, and people started to gather around. They were probably anticipating the altercation to get physical, but you refused to give everyone that satisfaction.

“You really are a shitty friend,” she said, making you scoff.

“You’re a shitty person! You spread so much shit about Ethan that wasn’t true. How the fuck do you sleep at night knowing you’ve been ruining his life all year?”

“He shouldn’t have broken up with me,” she snapped, “But it’s okay. You aren’t what he really wants. It’s cute that you think you’ll ever compare to me.”

“That’s the reason I am interested in her!” Ethan yelled, “She’s nothing like you! You told everyone I was controlling, that I was mentally and emotionally abusive. That’s what YOU were!”

She was about to say something, when she glanced around and noticed all the people with their phones out, pointed at her. You noticed some of the girls that you’d heard talk about Ethan staring at the ground, disappointed in themselves that they helped spread the rumors. Some of the guys that had gathered around shook their heads at her.

“That’s fucked up,” one of the guys said, before one of the girls jumped in.

“Yeah, you’re going to make all of us seem like we’re lying if something happens to us. That really is fucked up.”

You looked over to Ethan, your eyes wide as he tried to fight a smile from forming on his lips. He saw her little reign of terror crumbling, and it was so satisfying to watch.

She suddenly felt the urge to save face, walking over to Ethan. He backed away from her as she sighed in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Ethan,” she said, as he started to laugh.

“You’re only sorry because people know who you really are now,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You don’t care that you fucked this whole year up for me. All you cared about was making sure no one else wanted me, but how funny is it that one of your friends does?”

“Oh, we’re not friends,” you said, looking over at her. “Good luck finding someone here that wants to be with you after what you did to him.”

Ethan grabbed your hand to lead you away from her, as she stood there in the awkward tension. Once you and Ethan made it a block away, you both started to laugh.

“Maybe I didn’t need to record the conversation with her,” he said, “Almost everyone recorded that shit just now.”

“I’m happy for you, babe,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss you. It wasn’t a quick peck like you expected, your mouths moving together as you made out on the sidewalk.

“It was so hot watching you stand up to her like that,” he said against your lips once you pulled away to catch your breath. “Let’s go to my dorm. Chad’s going to Tara’s.”

“And what would we do?” you asked, a smirk playing on your lips as he smiled.

“I think celebratory sex is the perfect way to end tonight, followed by you staying over once I tell Chad he can’t come home.”

Once Ethan got you back to his dorm, he unbuttoned the jeans you were wearing the second you slid your shoes off your feet.

“Someone’s eager,” you giggled, as he led you to the bed.

“You have no idea,” he said, pushing you back.

Your legs were hanging off the side of the bed as he pulled your jeans and panties down your legs, the aggressiveness of it making you more wet than you already were. He dropped to the floor, sitting on his knees as he moved your legs to rest on his shoulders. He started with small licks to your clit, teasing you a little just so he could make you squirm. Your legs resting on him pulled him closer once he wasn’t giving you what you needed. He chuckled against you before he started to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, just like that,” you said, your hand moving to rest in his curls.

His hands grabbed your hips to pull you even closer to his mouth, a squeal slipping past your lips once you felt your ass hanging off the bed.

“I won’t let you fall, baby,” he said, before his tongue went back to your clit.

You felt two of his fingers brushing against your entrance, a low moan falling out of your mouth once he slid them inside of you. You glanced down to look at him and saw his eyes on you. He couldn’t stop watching the way your chest started to rise and fall quicker and all the cute little faces you were making.

He started to angle his fingers just right, pressing them against the spongy spot inside of you as he suckled on your clit. Your hand pulled his hair, the other one gripping at the sheets as your moans got louder.

You felt that feeling starting to build, your body getting hotter as he pressed his fingers even harder.

“Oh shit,” you whimpered, as he sucked harder on your clit. “Cumming.”

Your back arched off the bed as the legs around Ethan’s shoulders clenched around him, holding him in place as he kept fucking you with his fingers. He slowed down a little once your pussy started to spasm, the loud whines falling from your lips echoing off the walls as he worked you through it.

Once your body relaxed, he slid his fingers out of you, and gave your clit a few more gentle licks before he rolled you over, your wobbly legs trying to stabilize themselves as your feet rested against the floor. You were still so blissed out, your senses still on overdrive as you heard the sound of his zipper getting slid down. After he took off his jeans and boxers, you waited in anticipation as he walked over to his nightstand to grab a condom. Once he came back over to you, he ran his hands over your ass that was proudly sticking up in the air for him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he chuckled as he rolled the condom on.

He inched himself inside of you, soft moans slipping past your lips as he filled you up. When he stilled inside of you, he ran his hands over your hips as his cock stretched you out.

“You can move now,” you said, your voice muffled by his bed sheets.

He started off with slow, deep thrusts. He slid his cock out of you every time, his breathing getting heavier every time the tip went in and out of your entrance. Your hips started to move back to meet his slow thrusts, but he pulled back even further.

“Please, baby,” you begged, as you heard him chuckle from behind you.

“How bad do you want it?” he asked, as his hands moved from your ass to grip your hips. You huffed in response, as he slowed down even more. “If you want me to give you what you want, you better tell me.”

“I want it so fucking bad,” you pouted, as he smirked at how needy you were.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Before you could say anything else, he started to pound into you. He was pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts, your legs tingling as you struggled to hold yourself up. You were clinging to his sheets, whimpers flooding out of your mouth as he slammed into that spot every single time.

“So fucking tight,” he grunted, as you moaned in response.

Ethan had gone absolutely feral, one of his hands snaking under you to pull you back against him as he fucked up into you. He was squeezing at one of your breasts over your shirt as his other hand kept pulling your hips down.

“Are you mine?” he growled in your ear, this new side of Ethan turning you on more than you already were. You were trying so hard to form words, but they wouldn’t come out. The sounds of your wet pussy and skin slapping were filling the room as you felt the coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter. “Are you too cock drunk to answer me?”

You nodded your head as he laid you back on the bed, your hands grasping at the sheets again as he fucked you even harder. Your whimpers were turning to cries as your legs started to shake, your orgasm taking over your body so strong that you swore you were going to black out from how good it felt.

“Almost there, baby,” he said, your pussy squeezing him so tight that he felt like he could bust at that feeling alone. After a few more deep thrusts, he moaned out, his cum filling the tip of the condom. He caught his breath for a minute before he slid out of you, smiling at the way your body was relaxed on his bed.

“I am,” you said, after he got rid of the condom and helped you get the rest of your body up on the bed.

“You’re what?” he questioned, as he laid down and pulled you close.

“I’m yours.”

After that night, your former friend only lasted a couple weeks at the university once everyone realized how she really was. She switched to online classes until she transferred to a college closer to her and Ethan’s home town. Your relationship with Ethan got more serious that he was bringing you home for the holidays. You were taking all these cute little photos in front of one of the light displays when you saw her with someone you assumed to be her new boyfriend, but she quickly walked away with him the second she saw you and Ethan.

“You think she’s going to do the same shit to him that she did to me?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you as you walked along the path of lights.

“No, I think she learned her lesson.”

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 2: LOVING HIM WAS RED [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3972

summary: seb, after not knowing about her for almost five years, finds out that y/n just went viral on youtube after posting a song that might be written about him

warnings: settled on april 2018 and narrated on seb's pov. curse words, mentions of sex and one night stands. apart from that, just a little bit of background story from seb and reader's relationship

taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @nhfls @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]

a/n: i know i'm supposed to be posting oscar fics but migraine is killing me today (been quite stressed for the past few days i believe). in the meantime, as i already had it written, here you have part 2 of goodbyes are bittersweet! hope you liked it as much as you liked part 1 (even if it's a bit different). part 3 coming tomorrow if you want so? PLEASE let me know your thoughts and opinions in comments! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2018 April 27th Baku, Azerbaijan

Sebastian

I woke up as soon as I felt the sun’s rays hitting me in the face, and at the same moment I noticed a surprisingly strange warmth next to me, in bed.

I looked at my phone and saw that it was already half-past seven in the morning. Not only had I realized that my alarm hadn’t gone off and I had overslept by an hour and a half, but it was also Y/N’s birthday.

Like every year, there was no response from her to the email I had scheduled to be sent at midnight. 

After almost five years of knowing the bare minimum about her and having seen her a couple of times from afar in Heppenheim, I knew why, deep down, I kept doing it. I still loved her as much as the first day, or even more. I hoped for a reunion where we could tell each other about our lives and start a simple friendship as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t chosen to leave my life and act like she didn’t know me.

I decided to turn over to see what was getting closer and closer to me, almost pushing me off the bed. It wasn’t hard to find myself face to face with blue eyes that were not the green ones I had dreamed of that night.

Suddenly, memories from just a few hours ago started to form in my mind. A few beers I shouldn’t have had at a local pub just because I wanted to escape the blurry memory of Y/N were responsible for me meeting this charming young woman with a wonderful smile.

My head couldn’t piece together how we ended up here, but I suppose her insistence, my invitation for her to accompany me to the hotel, and possibly a taxi ride I paid for were the final results of the goal to escape reality. 

This had been my routine since I realized my ex-girlfriend wasn’t coming back into my life. I didn’t like being this way, and although I had tried to find a stable partner, kindness, fun and a temporary refuge had been the best way to try to forget Y/N Y/L/N, who always found a way to slip into my thoughts at the least expected moment.

I quickly got out of bed and, almost without thinking and without needing to undress, jumped into the shower and did my best to let the warm water make me forget everything I had allowed to happen the night before. I closed my eyes and let myself go as much as I could. I tried to organize my thoughts and find the easiest possible way out of the problem I had gotten myself into, but it was impossible to find one that worked.

I got out of there faster than I would have liked. When I returned to the room, with just the towel wrapped around my waist, leaving my entire torso exposed, I found the person I had been avoiding at all costs.

The brunette was already stretching in bed, dawdling and, surely, not wanting to leave.

“Would you mind leaving?”

My rhetorical question made her just look at me in surprise, her eyes still sleepy.

“Why, Seb? Can’t we spend the day together? I could go with you to the paddock and repeat what we did last night in your room or whatever you call it,” she suggested with a playful smile. “You know as well as I do that it would be fun.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach at her suggestion. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed her company or was forbidden to do so, but the simple fact of knowing who was turning thirty today, and that this exact proposal was something I used to do with her...

“I don’t think it’s a good idea...” 

Damn, I didn’t remember her name.

“Alessia.”

“That’s it, Alessia,” I confirmed. “You know how these things are and what it could mean for us to be seen together. We could meet another day as... friends.”

Neither my response nor hers were what the other expected. After hearing her name, I remembered the brief introduction she gave me: a musician just starting out and a member of a highly successful Italian orchestra.

An Italian version of Y/N and, unfortunately for me and possibly the blonde, a successful one.

“The way you moaned my name last night so many times is not something friends usually do. You made me feel special last night. A lot, in fact.” 

“I’m sorry, Alessia, that wasn’t what I meant,” I clarified, my cheeks blushing slightly at her statement. “I hope you enjoyed what we did last night, but it’s time for you to get dressed and go back to your hotel or wherever you’re staying. I have to go to work,” I added, trying not to succumb to her obvious charms. 

After several more attempts to convince me, the girl finally resigned herself and reluctantly accepted my suggestion. I felt uncomfortable when she threw off the sheets and began to gather her clothes, completely naked. I felt even worse as I watched her slow and deliberate movements, as if she were prolonging the inevitable farewell and trying to arouse me. 

I bit my lip and refrained from doing or saying anything when she asked for help zipping up her dress. I could have said no, but I didn’t want to seem rude, especially considering that the time I spent with her had made me feel just as I had with my ex-girlfriend. 

Once we were finished, the Italian approached me with determination. Before I could react, her lips sought mine with clear intention. I instinctively turned my face, causing the kiss to land on my cheek instead of my lips. 

“Alessia…” 

What could I say in a situation like this? Did she deserve the hurt I was going to cause her even though we had only had a night of wild sex, like so many others I had had with other girls? 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured hastily, looking away. “I thought… you know, that we could have something more than just a one-night stand.”

My heart sank at her words, and as I had already foreseen, because it always happened in these cases, guilt overwhelmed me. 

I knew I had been unfair to her by allowing this to happen, by letting her believe there could be something more between us, and that the problem was hers when the only one to blame was me, who hadn’t gotten over the love of my life after four years, now closer to five, of no contact. 

“Alessia, you’re an incredible person,” I began to say, trying to find the right words and not hurt her more, “but right now, all I want to focus on is my work and working on myself. It wouldn’t be fair for you to be part of all this and end up getting hurt.”

“I understand,” she said softly, nodding with a sadness that, although expected, still surprised me. “Thank you for letting me spend this night with you, Sebastian.”

I felt overwhelmed and at the same time a great mixture of relief and remorse as I watched her leave without even looking back. 

When enough time had passed to be sure I wouldn’t run into her, I went down to the hotel lobby still feeling that heaviness invading me. I tried to shake off all of them, but as soon as I saw Britta standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed and with an angry look fixed on me, I knew it was going to be difficult. 

“Sebastian, again?” she asked, full of frustration. 

“Yes, and I’m not going to apologize for something I don’t regret,” I replied sincerely, knowing there was no way to avoid the upcoming conversation. 

“Are you going to keep playing this game much longer?” she reproached as she quickened her pace, trying not to cause too much of a scene or draw attention. “You’ve gone longer than I’d like to say without settling down.” 

“I will when I get tired of sleeping with girls I don’t know, I suppose. Having sex is good for health, you know? Be thankful I don’t cause you many problems after these nights.” 

Britta sighed, and I knew my response was making her lose the little patience she had left. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think what would make you tired of sleeping with strangers almost every Grand Prix week would be to have some kind of interaction with Y/N.” 

The mention of the blonde’s name made the wave of emotions I had tried to bury for years resurface, hitting me suddenly. 

“You know I can’t do that. It’s impossible. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t want to cooperate.” 

“You should at least try once again, at least. I know there’s nothing, nor anyone, who can change her mind,” and it was true. Y/N was the most stubborn person, for better or worse, that I had ever met in my life. “But I also know that if you keep avoiding facing your feelings and trying to forgive yourself for what happened, you’ll never find the peace you’re not only wishing for but also deserving of.” 

“I know, Britta, but…” 

“But what, Sebastian? It’s just that…” 

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?” 

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the change of subject and possibly for not letting her finish. She slowed her pace, and for the first time in the short time we had been together that day, I felt calm and even understood. 

“Yes, I’ve heard something about that,” she said after a few seconds that felt eternal. “What does that have to do with getting over your ex-girlfriend?”

“Well, everything, really,” I declared. “Y/N and I dated, if you can even call it that, for ten days during Christmas of ’99. She was 11, and I was 12, and I was a bit stupid because I ended up breaking up with her when I fell for a classmate who had just moved to Heppenheim and who eventually started dating my cousin.” 

“But…”

“Then Y/N and I became friends again,” I continued, trying not to let her interrupt my impromptu speech, “and it took six years until she told me she loved me. I didn’t want to admit my feelings and decided that not talking to her for four months was the best, not even to offer my condolences after her grandmother’s death… And look, in the end, I asked her to go out with me!”

My PR sighed, possibly tired of hearing that story once again, a story I never got tired of telling because sometimes reality was weirder than fiction.

“I’m going to tell you what I’ve always told you since Y/N left, and I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it: you’re still clinging to the hope that everything will go back to how it was, even though you know it’s not possible,” she said without a hint of doubt. “Even if you ran into her and had a deep conversation, your lives have changed. At least yours has, and I’m sure hers has too.”

“I mentioned the invisible string theory because I feel like there’s something else. I feel, besides there being something unknown that ties us together for some reason, that the third time's the final one,” I finally confessed.

My confession seemed to have caught her off guard. Now, she slowed, and she was passing her accreditation to enter the paddock much more slowly than she usually did.

Maybe she was right, that I was holding on too tightly to the hope that everything would go back to how it was before, but I had been dreaming about Y/N again for many nights after months without doing so. It had never happened before, but the last few days had felt like she had never left my life and had always been there, just apart.

The last time I had that feeling it ended with me seeing her from a distance playing with a little girl she was probably babysitting to earn some extra money.

Obviously, I didn’t dare to approach her because she seemed... happy. Quite happy, actually.

“I’d like to keep talking about this, but I want you to stop thinking about Y/N, at least for a few hours, and focus on today,” my PR’s change in tone let me know she was serious. “We have a lot to do.”

“Then enlighten me, master.”

“First, you have a meeting with the team to discuss possible strategies for practice and what might work for tomorrow’s qualifying,” the blonde began to explain, taking out her planner and going over the day’s schedule. “Then I think you have an interview with SkySports with Nico Rosberg, and maybe a talk for a collaboration with a brand, but I have to check that again.”

“What time am I supposed to meet with the engineers?”

“Around nine-thirty, but...”

I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth as my PR continued talking. The heaviness in my eyelids was getting worse, and I felt the exhaustion from the previous night starting to take its toll. I looked at my phone and saw that, unfortunately, it was only eight-fifteen.

Was the day going by that slowly?

“Understood,” I replied, pretending I had been paying attention to everything Britta had said. “By the way, do you mind if I go to my driver’s room to have some rest?”

“Sebastian...”

“I had a fantastic night,” I admitted, causing her to cross her arms and once again look at me with a stern expression, “but I didn’t sleep at all, and if I want to perform well, I need to sleep at least for a bit.”

“You have forty-five minutes at most,” the blonde snapped. “Don’t you dare be late, or we’ll have problems. Set your alarm and make sure your phone is on in case someone calls you.”

It won’t be Y/N, that’s for sure.

“I will, don’t worry.”

I left Britta after exchanging a few more words with her and hurried as much as I could. With every step I took, I felt more tired. I knew I should have slept at least six hours, but I succumbed to the temptation last night to, why not say it, have a good time and, as was more than obvious and had become routine since 2014, try to succeed in the mission of forgetting Y/N on her birthday.

Another year, it had been impossible.

I didn’t know if it was due to lack of sleep or lack of attention, but the voices around me seemed increasingly distant. The only thing I could hear as I walked through the pit lane was a growing murmur where the words “viral” and “song” seemed to be the main topics, especially from the mouths of Max, Daniel, and I’d swear Charles.

“Have you heard this song?” I heard Verstappen say. I stopped when the first piano chords began to play. “It’s like a pandemic; it’s everywhere.”

“I don’t know who the girl singing is, but she’s incredibly talented,” Ricciardo continued. “Do we know who...?”

“You don’t know if it’s a girl!” Leclerc reproached, hitting the Australian on the arm. “What if it’s a guy with a high voice?”

I laughed at the younger guys' antics, wondering if my former teammates saw me that way when I was their age.

Losing him was blue like i’d never known Missing him was dark gray all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met Cos’ loving him was red

If my eyes were almost closing automatically, after hearing the chorus, or whatever it was called, it felt like I had taken an energy drink that had woken me up.

The moment that voice, both raspy and sweet at the same time, penetrated my ear, my hair stood on end. Its familiarity was incredible… but no, it couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"God damn, who can play the piano while singing?" 

"I have two questions," Daniel blurted out, ignoring Charles' words. "The first one is who the fuck it could be, and the second is how the hell they've gotten so much attention out of nowhere."

It's Y/N, who else could it be, I thought.

I tried to control all kinds of thoughts that were running through my head. I knew my ex-girlfriend's voice perfectly, and the one coming from the Dutchman's phone was quite similar to hers.

"Maybe it's a marketing strategy. At least that's what Fernando thinks," Max always had the Spaniard's name in his mouth. "What if it's a marketing strategy by some record label? It could be a plan to generate interest in an artist or a song."

"I highly doubt it. If they wanted to do that, the YouTube account wouldn't be named 151206010614."

Lewis appeared next to me out of nowhere. Quickly taking off his headphones, he also unplugged them from his phone, letting the song play at full volume.

"Seb, are you okay?" insisted the Brit.

"Yes, yes. I was just a bit distracted," I hurried to say.

He didn't seem very satisfied with my answer, but I didn't care. The only thing I was thinking about at that moment was how much I wanted to get to the hospitality area, and how much I wanted to take a micro-nap at this point.

"Are you also distracted thinking about that anonymous person?"

"I can't be distracted by someone I know nothing about other than what I've heard from them," I replied, pointing to the three drivers who were still engrossed in the conversation about the topic.

"I've managed to hear a bit, yes," replied the dark-haired one. "I think I understand music a little more than they do. I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with a record label, and that someone simply uploaded it without any expectations. And look how it went from them."

I looked at him intrigued, understanding little to nothing of what he was saying.

"Since you look confused, I'll explain a bit," Hamilton continued, realizing that I didn't seem to understand much. "It seems they uploaded this song, which happens to be called Red, to YouTube," he hit play and put it on again, now from the beginning, "It seems to be about a failed relationship, but no one knows who sings it or what the real story behind it is."

"Does no one really know anything?" I insisted, finding the situation very strange.

Why was the voice only familiar to me? Could it be because today was Y/N's birthday, and everything reminded me of her much more than usual?

"The only thing we know is that the song is wonderful. Really, I don't know who’s behind this, but if they discover that girl, if it is a girl, and give her a chance, I’m almost sure she can achieve great things."

We decided to move a bit further down the pit lane, exchanging a few words with those we met. Lewis kept talking about the song. I couldn't stop thinking and analyzing the melody, the lyrics, the voice, and especially the user. I knew there was something hidden behind that combination of numbers, and now the priority of sleeping a bit before the first free practice session had taken a back seat.

I tried all possible combinations. Numbers from front to back, in pairs, trios, and even quartets, but nothing seemed to convince me. While the melody of Red continued to resonate from the Mercedes driver's iPhone, my mind kept trying to get the information because something inside me, which was nothing like the feeling I had every April 27th, knew it was Y/N.

I managed to come up with the supposed answer shortly after, recalling some of the important dates for us. If I divided the username into three different sections, with two pairs of numbers each, the first one corresponded to June 15th, 2006.

That was the day I asked Y/N to be my girlfriend. 

If that was right, the second pair of numbers corresponded to January 12th, 2014. I was no longer dating Y/N at that time, but I knew her perfectly, and not to brag, but I was convinced that date must be extremely important to her if it was alongside our anniversary.

I wish I could know what it is that about.

“Are you listening to me?”

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

I ignored Lewis after hearing, for the first time paying extremely attention, that bridge. 

Somehow, the song described my feelings perfectly, and I didn’t know why I felt that way. I couldn’t let go of Y/N, not when she had been, and still was, the love of my life. 

I entered WhatsApp almost automatically and went into Y/N's profile. She had no profile picture, but I knew perfectly well that it was her because her contact was still saved with the same name. I quickly wrote to her that I knew it was her hiding behind the song and that somehow, I knew she was talking about me. 

I saw Britta approaching us quickly. She was also engrossed in her phone, her fingers constantly moving over it. I didn’t pay much attention to her because once I showed my desperation to Y/N, I moved on to conveying it to Hanna, trying to convince her to reveal that it was her best friend. 

“Seb, we need to talk,” Roeske hurried to say, almost out of breath. Her gaze was still fixed on her device.

“Britta, I can’t right now, I’m sending…”

“Sebastian Vettel, this is serious.”

When she yanked the phone from my hands and I made eye contact with her, I assumed things didn’t seem to be going very well. The moment she turned her gaze to Lewis and he walked away, patting me on the shoulder, I knew.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, quite angry. “Why are you acting like a neurotic who seems to have lost a million euros on a ridiculous bet?”

“I don’t want you to answer anything related to that song that went viral, Red. I’m telling you, Sebastian, don’t you dare answer anything about that damn song.”

And again, this was another sign that happened to make me feel like I hadn’t gone crazy.

“Sebastian, trust me,” Britta remained firm in her expression, crossing her arms. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because the song was uploaded by…”

“Y/N.”

I saw the answer in her eyes. I knew her and knew she longed to answer me and at the same time, she didn’t. 

Britta knew that, but I also had the feeling she seemed to want to hide something.

“It’s her the one singing, right?” I insisted, but she didn’t answer. “Britta, please: tell me.”

I was desperate, and it was more than obvious. A sigh and a few seconds filled with uncertainty preceded her response:

“If you already know, why do you ask me? You know the sunshine of your life, as you still call her, much better than I do. Of course it’s Y/N,” she revealed, lifting a great weight off my shoulders and, above all, making me believe I could have faith in the future.

[dovveri]

misunderstandings

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 6 ▸ part 7

synopsis: y/n watches the most recent episode of the bachelorette and is met with something she doesn’t like. sana also seems to be angry for whatever reason and it builds up into a big argument at the end of the night.

warnings: sex! overstimulation, fingering, scissoring, oral sex, degradation, choking, cursing

w/c: 7.1k

a/n: soooo sorry for the delay this will probs be my last update for a while bcs finals season is driving me up a wall (if u see me post another story or part its bcs im actually not studying and u should yell at me for it) i lwk hate the pacing of this chapter i feel like its everywhere but hey! we got some smut!

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the backlash wonsik gets online is more than satisfactory. apparently, with all the evidence piled up against him, he would most likely be sent away for the rest of his life. which is disgusting to think about, how much crime do you have to commit to get a life sentence? you try to shake those thoughts as you watch the most recent episode with the leftover contestants while sana’s on her individual date as usual. it was tradition now, even more so as the pool of contestants gets smaller and smaller.

after your day off, things had gotten right back to normal.

sana went on a solo date with jacky. good thing it was jacky too because they had the famous ‘conquer a fear’ date. who knew big, australian jacky was afraid of balloons. and in typical bachelorette fashion, producers came up with a romantic hot air balloon date for 5am in the morning.

costume designers had rushed into your room at 4am, turning on all the lights and pulling sana from your arms, not even casting you a second look now that they were used to seeing the both of you cuddled up and naked most of the time they had to come in and dress you.

you were barely conscious as they ran around frantically, pulling the covers over your head and groaning a little, trying to make yourself go back to sleep.

you’re sure sana didn’t feel the best either from the little grumbles and whines you can hear faintly as she struggles to keep her eyes open while makeup artists dab eyeshadow on her eyelids.

soon enough they're off and you drift back into sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later so you can get dressed and attend the group date for the day.

that was also pretty fun. everything was meant to be high-adrenaline, facing your fears, all that sort of stuff today. so the team had booked out a big amusement park and you all had free rein. it was also good because it meant you had a little bit more freedom, not everyone had to stick together so people ended up splitting naturally when they wanted to do different rides and you had even managed to sneak sana away from the cameras for a quick make out session in the toilets.

it was a pretty great day and would make for a nice and light episode after the mayhem that happened with wonsik. there was a rose ceremony as always but this time, only 2 people were eliminated. unfortunately you had to say goodbye to dae and nayeon, sana did say it was getting harder and harder to eliminate people because as the more time goes on, the closer you get, and when there's less people in the house, it also facilitates closer relationships. she had to eliminate those two simply because she felt her romantic connection with them wasn't as strong as it was with some of the other contestants. it was rough but that's showbiz.

after 2 more eliminations tonight, it would officially be the quarter finals meaning it would be time for sana to meet all of her last 4 contestants' families and close ones.

currently, you're enjoying an afternoon tea at the contestants' house. as usual, sana was on a solo date with jiwon but there wouldn't be a group date today because there wasn't enough time to film it. instead, the both of you were allowed a little sleep in after yesterday's rude 4am awakening, and a little more time in the afternoon to dress up before the rose ceremony tonight.

the episode had just finished with jacky and sana's date. jacky still won't go near a balloon and he's probably developed a fear of heights on top of that too now but at least it looked pretty on television.

you had teased him when the episode showed him nervously walking around and inspecting the hot air balloon before sana had to basically yank him into the basket. he had his eyes shut tight the entire time, holding on to sana for dear life while they ascended. it was a little cute when sana finally managed to get him to peek his eyes open once they reached their highest altitude, just in time to catch the sunrise, and in exchange for getting over his fear and not backing out of this date with her, she gave him a rose and kissed him on the cheek.

you heard afterwards from eunji that as soon as they touched back down he had jumped out of the basket and laid face down in the grass for about half an hour, just getting used to the feeling of being on the ground again.

they had caught a bit of him on the floor doing exactly that which was pretty hilarious because sana was crouched next to him, poking him and trying to get him to sit up but he just groaned and mumbled something incomprehensibly in response, his rose still clutched tight in his hand, stretched out in front of him.

they cut it off there though, maybe a little for jacky's reputation but you all knew how long he was there for.

after a short break where they show a few scenes of silly occurrences inside the house with the other contestants, and then finding out everyone was invited on the group date that day, except for jacky who was invited but ended up taking the rest of the day off to recuperate and basically laid in bed in the medical office, even skipping the rose ceremony since he already got his rose.

they shot everyone in the car on the way to the amusement park, asking the contestants what they thought was going to happen, if anyone was scared, trying to pull a few comedic clips together, all the anticipation scenes the audience needed to be excited for the date.

eventually, everyone's in the middle of the amusement park with sana and yourself waiting for them in casual clothes. you shift a little as you recall the way you had her gasping into your mouth and your hand up the blue polo shirt she’s wearing on screen only 20 minutes after the introduction and everyone had split off.

in the meantime, while the cameras were running around frantically trying to find sana, they had filled in the gaps with clips of the other contestants, you laugh when momo is practically dragged onto a rollercoaster by jihyo and jun, she’s kicking and screaming but they manage to strap her in and gesture for the roller coaster attendant to go. its one of those really fast ones where it goes from 0 to 100 in seconds so the force pushes all of them back against the seats, poor momo barely has the time to blink and then its over. she’s gasping with her eyes clenched shut while the other two are laughing and pulling her off and along to the next ride.

it’s great being able to watch what happened when you weren’t on screen, and also what sana was up to when you weren’t with her.

you laugh when they show all the contestants clambering onto the carousel, you had all taken some group pictures and some of them were more than silly.

eventually, you get to the rose ceremony, and just as you were on the night, your breath is taken away again with sana in a stunning red dress. she really nailed being on camera, her face was one that was meant to be on screen.

the night starts merrily, everyone's more of a family now, you’re all happy to drink and talk together, and it wasn’t so competitive to get time with sana anymore because there were less contestants.

you frown a little though when the camera shifts to sana and jihyo, they’re sitting very close in one of the more private rooms inside the house.

jihyo’s playing a joke and sana’s laughing, a little flushed, probably from the alcohol as she slaps jihyo’s arm lightheartedly. jihyo preens at the attention, grabbing another drink and offering it to sana who accepts it gratefully and takes a sip.

she hums in satisfaction before speaking up, “so you never did tell me how you broke up with that gym rat…”

jihyo’s laughing a little nervously, twiddling her thumbs a little, “right yeah… i just realised that i made the wrong decision. i was caught up in the newness of everything with him but after that got old, i realised i still loved-“

sana’s eyebrows are shooting up, she’s setting down her drink and clearing her throat.

“sorry.” jihyo flashes an apologetic look over at sana, but sana shakes her head.

“no no it’s okay. be as honest as you can, please. we’re both here because we’re looking for a relationship right? can’t do that if we have any skeletons still in the closet.”

jihyo’s smiling gratefully and then continuing, “he wasn’t it for me. that’s why i broke up with him. i’m sorry for the way i treated you sana, you didn’t deserve that, you never did anything wrong in our relationship and i never really gave you a reason to why we broke up. i hoped by coming on here i may be able to win back a second chance.”

sana hums again, taking a moment to think while jihyo nervously looks at her with wide eyes.

“jihyo… you hurt me a lot when you left.”

“i know! and i’m so so sorry for that! i never want to do that to you again, all i’m asking for is another chance sana.”

she’s shuffling closer, grabbing sana’s hands tightly and imploring with her eyes.

sana looks down at their hands together, taking a breath before looking back up, "look... i'm not going to lie to you... i never really did get over you completely."

what?

"and i wouldn't have kept you in here for this long if i wasn't curious about what you had to say and if i wasn't ready to give you a second chance."

what the actual fuck?

"it wouldn't be fair though. to the other contestants, y'know? if they knew you had a head start. and i admit i was avoiding you a little because i wanted to even the playing field and get to know everyone else first before revisiting this." she makes a gesture with her hands, signaling between the two of them. "so its nice to finally be able to sit down and get a clear answer about what happened in the past."

jihyo looks more and more hopeful as sana goes on, your hands only get tighter around the fabric of your pants. sana didn't tell you about this conversation last night. sana hasn't mentioned anything jihyo related. whenever you ask, she's always managed to change the conversation or misdirect you with the promise of sex. was this why? is this how she really felt about jihyo? did she think you would disapprove? well you do disapprove but that was besides the point.

all of the other contestants don't seem too shocked with this news. it's not too surprising though because they've all lived with jihyo and the one thing they all have in common is sana so there's no doubt they've all discussed each other's feelings for sana, and jihyo probably told them their history as well.

you're fuming though. you can't believe sana didn't tell you something this important. that you're finding this out along with the rest of the country when you were meant to be her best friend here, the one person who was supposed to know everything before everyone.

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the rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. you can vaguely tell when someone comes up to you and tries to initiate or bring you into the conversation but your mind is swirling with information about sana and jihyo, their past interactions, whether you could decipher any of sana's feelings from observing her.

eventually, it's time for the rose ceremony again and you're still in your head about everything you thought you knew happened yesterday.

you have half the mind to pull sana aside and ask her about it but when you meet sana's eyes, she squints a little and looks away quickly with signs of a pout in her lip.

the night continues like this, the two of you stealing glances at each other only when you think the other isn't looking. when sana starts pulling jihyo aside though, you don't care if she sees the look of disbelief on your face, she doesn't seem to notice anyway, all cozied up to jihyo.

you're averting your head again and downing the rest of your drink in one gulp.

when it's time to read out who gets a rose and who's going home, you're stiff standing next to sana, she's purposely avoiding your gaze as well. the tension between you two was so thick jiwon had come up and asked if something had happened between you two. and technically nothing did happen so you don't really know why sana seems to be angry with you when you were the one who was hurt by yesterday's episode.

the ceremony is brief, you have to say goodbye to jun, and eunji unfortunately but you can barely give them a proper hug as you stare at jihyo who's now made the final four.

after your goodbyes you quickly make your way towards the car, tapping your foot impatiently while waiting for sana to finish saying her goodbyes so you could both go home.

unfortunately, that takes another 20 minutes and you're just about to tell the driver to leave without her when she's sliding into the car, still avoiding your gaze and sitting on the opposite end of the car. normally she's all over you, needing affection after a big day but now you're pretty sure if she moved any further away she'd be falling out the window.

that was fine though. it’s not like you wanted to have an argument with her while the driver could hear you anyway.

the car’s pulling in and she’s opening her door and stalking inside the house without even a second glance towards you.

what the fuck? why was she mad at you now?

you feel almost childish copying her actions and making sure to slam the door on the way in, but if she was acting like this for no reason that only infuriated you more.

you find her in the kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently and waiting for you to come in.

once you’re standing on opposite sides of the counter, you cross your arms and still. she’s leaning on the counter with her hands, staring you down. there was no way you were going to be the first to break. she was the one who had some explaining to do right now, not you.

sana's stubborn as well though, lips pursed and not backing down.

it goes on like this for a few minutes before you finally break, raising an eyebrow and asking coldly, "so do you have anything you want to say to me sana?"

sana scoffs, the tips of her ears red, "do you have anything you want to say y/n?"

"what? no! i don't even know why you're being like this right now! i'm the one who's been left in the dark here."

"oh you're the one who's been left in the dark huh? unbelievable that you're still lying to my face about this. is that how you really feel about her?"

"excuse me?! it doesn't matter how i feel about her! the whole issue is how you've been dealing with this situation!"

sana sneers, your voices getting louder and louder trying to top each other, "this again? seriously y/n? i'm my own person and i'm allowed to have opinions on who i like and who i don't like! if she's being weird or sneaky or whatever i'm going to call her out on it!"

you scoff, "yeah right. like you called her out on it last night? and tonight as well i bet. why did you take so long saying your goodbyes huh?"

sana goes beet red and you think you've got her, "what?! what are you talking about?! and i stayed behind to say proper goodbyes to everyone! not like you apparently who couldn't care less, you barely talked to anyone tonight, when jun, and eunji, who was one of your closest friends here right?! when they had to leave you didn't even look them in the eye when they hugged you!"

"riiiiiiiiiight and you expect me to believe that? you weren't cuddling up and getting a quickie in before you had to go right?"

"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! quickie- what?"

"with jihyo! you stayed behind to talk to her didn't you!?"

"what?! well yeah i did but what does jihyo have to do with any of this?"

"what?! i've been talking about jihyo this whole time what do you mean?"

she's slipping something out of her suit pocket and sliding it across the counter to you. your phone.

"are you fucking serious y/n? you've been talking about jihyo this whole time? what the fuck? why the fuck are you suddenly bringing her up? you're the one who's been going behind my back getting all flirty and friendly with miyeon! after you told me you were just friends?! calling each other babe and sweetie and honey in your texts, how the fuck did you even get her number anyway? how long have you been talking to her huh? how long have you been fucking me while talking to someone else?"

you're scrambling for your phone, unlocking it and scrolling to your messages with miyeon. fuck. sana must have read everything. you don't even remember leaving your phone behind but it must have been with her since the morning. you scroll down the texts and see the most recent messages miyeon has texted you today and you find that sana has been replying to her.

"are you serious sana?! why the fuck did you go through my phone?"

sana turns her head at that, pouting a little, "i didn't mean to! she just kept on texting and i thought it must have been something important if your phone kept going off so i just went in to make sure everything was okay! how was i supposed to know you were basically sexting her behind my back!?"

"we were not sexting oh my god sana! miyeon is my friend we're just friends!"

"why have you been keeping this from me then?! you must like her or something then don't you?!"

"what?! no! and don't talk to me about keeping secrets right now sana!"

"what secrets have i kept from you?!"

"hello?!" you're waving your hands around frantically, "the whole jihyo situation?! why didn't you tell me you never got over her?"

"i never got over- what?!"

"you said so last night! on national fucking television! don't play dumb with me right now sana, and don't try and change the topic on me!"

"i never said that! are you being serious right now? jihyo and i split and it took me a while but you were there for it all! you saw me at my lowest and you helped build me back up! i am over her!"

"why is she in the final four then?"

"oh my god y/n you cannot seriously still be talking about jihyo! i'm over her! the producers wanted her to make it to the final four because they thought they could add some drama in during the home visits or whatever! jihyo and i talked about it last night and i told her why she was still here because i didn't want to keep leading her on! that's why i stayed for longer after the rose ceremony, i just wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay with all of this because i still care about her! i loved her at one point in my life!"

"that's not what i saw in last night's episode!"

"what?!"

"yeah! you and jihyo were all close and snuggly and she told you she still loved you and you said you were going to give her a second chance!"

"y/n i never said any of that." the rage has lifted slightly now, replaced with confusion.

you're breathing heavily, tired from arguing, you and sana had more fights these few weeks that you've been filming than you've had your entire lives together.

you tap out of your messaging app, going to tiktok and searching up last night's bachelorette episode, scrolling past all the funny jacky moments and amusement park shorts, trying to find the part where jihyo and sana were talking. someone had to have posted about it.

"are you serious right now? are you fucking texting miyeon while we're talking?"

"what?! no! sana i told you miyeon and i are just friends! i'm trying to find a clip of you and jihyo last night to show you what i'm talking about!" you find one then and quickly hold it out for sana to see.

she watches the clip replay a few times while you wait defiantly.

after the seventh replay you take your phone back, sighing when you think she has nothing to say for herself.

“y/n…”

“want to explain yourself now? anything else you wanna divulge while you’re at it?”

“what? no y/n i didn’t say any of that. they edited that together. i didn’t say any of that to jihyo i promise.”

you look at her in confusion, looking back to your phone, and then back to her.

“i did pull jihyo aside and we did talk but i never told her that i didn't get over her. y/n you have to believe me baby i- i can call the producers right now, they'll clear everything up." she's reaching for her phone, but the immense relief that she doesn't still have feelings for jihyo washes over you and brings you to action. moving around the counter and taking her phone from her and wrapping her in a hug.

she stills against you, and you're both surprised when you feel your own tears falling down your face, the tension of the night finally getting to you.

"y/n..."

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry i do believe you. this all seems so silly now i hate when we fight. i overreacted with the whole jihyo thing and it could've been solved so easily if i'd just talked to you instead of..."

sana softens against you, wrapping her arms around your waist and carding a hand through your hair. "it's okay baby. i'll talk to the producers tomorrow and make sure they don't pull anything like that again. and after the home visits i promise jihyo is the one who'll be going home."

you sniffle a little, "you don't have to do that for me sana. i swear i was just being..."

"hmm?"

"i don't know i'm tired sana. can we go to bed?"

she hums against you, pulling you both towards the bathroom for your nighttime routines. once you're done, you're climbing into sana's bed and picking up your phone again, scrolling back to your messages with miyeon while waiting for sana to finish her routine and join you.

y/n: heyy sorry i just got my phone back, sana's had it the last few hours because i left it behind so if i seemed weird over text it's because she was messaging you

miyeon: oh it's okay! i did think you sounded a bit off but i just chalked it up to u not feeling well or something. was sana mad when she found out we were texting?

y/n: 😂 how did you know?

miyeon: well i was on the receiving end of her jealousy when she texted me today so that was one clue 😂

y/n: jealousy?

suddenly your phone starts vibrating and miyeon's name flashes across the screen. you pick up hesitantly, "hello?"

"y/n! hey! it's good to actually hear your voice again!"

you chuckle a little, "you too princess. what's up?"

"nothing really, i just wanted to see where your head's at with sana now."

"what do you mean?"

"remember the conversation we had the night i got kicked out? while you were drunk?"

you squint a little, shuffling around in the sheets, "kinda... why?"

"i noticed the way you looked at her, the way you talked about her, even on the first night i think the reason why no one suspected that you weren't just a regular contestant was because i thought, we all thought you also felt the same way we did for sana."

"w-what?"

"you might not have realised it... but i think you were beginning to see it when filming started. do you get jealous when you see sana with the other contestants?"

"i- well- i mean i kinda just thought i was friend jealous though. or like that i just wanted the best for her which was why i was so harsh on contestants in the beginning."

"the way you talk about her over text sounds like its more than that y/n."

"i don't- what- i'm not jealous-"

you barely register that sana's finished with her routine now, sliding into bed next to you and cuddling up immediately. "what are you jealous about?"

you freeze, looking at her like you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar in the middle of the night.

"is that sana?" you're broken out of it quickly when you hear miyeon's voice over the phone.

sana bristles though, moving away from you and frowning, "are you on the phone with miyeon?"

"i- yeah-"

sana's snatching the phone out of your hand instantly, bringing it up to her ear and speaking into the microphone with a cold sneer, "yes this is sana. can i help you?"

you can't hear miyeon respond but the way sana's speaking sends a lightning rod of arousal down your spine. your mind is still hazy with what miyeon's suggested, and you're thinking about how you hated seeing sana kiss wonsik, how blinded you felt when you thought sana still liked jihyo, what could this mean? how long have you liked sana for? has it always been this way?

you don't realise that sana's features have become less defensive as she talks to miyeon, almost apologetic even when she settles back down next to you, humming in response to something miyeon's said over the phone. she's within proximity again that you can make out miyeon's voice.

"-but i hope you've been doing well and taking care of yourself with all the craziness that comes along with filming."

"yeah thank you miyeon. really. and again i'm so sorry for all the misunderstandings and i hope you know that eliminating you was definitely a mistake and it was very short-sighted of me but i'm glad that we've finally had a chance to talk where i'm not completely hostile to you."

you can hear the airy giggle of miyeon over the phone, "of course! all the best with the rest of the season sana. maybe we'll see each other on the other side."

sana smiles, "definitely. goodnight miyeon!"

she hangs up and hands your phone back to you, going right back to cuddling as if nothing had happened.

you're trying to pick out what part of that conversation that you overheard bothered you when it hits. "eliminating miyeon was a mistake?" was this the jealousy again?

"weren't you the one saying that?" sana raises an eyebrow at you, brushing her fingers over your side.

"well- i-"

she's giggling now, "i'm just kidding. miyeon just put to rest everything that was on my mind so i have nothing to worry about. i'm sorry for overreacting when i found out you were texting her. you're allowed to have friends, sorry i was trying to micromanage that."

"what was on your mind?"

"hmm y'know... you mostly."

you whine, hitting her lightly while she laughs at you.

"she told me you were just friends and she never meant to make it seem like it was anything else. she also helped me... come to terms with a few things so i'm actually very grateful for that."

"what things?"

"so many questions y/n. are you worried i'm about to steal her away from you?" sana teases.

"what? no! stop teasing-"

she grins, poking your cheek, "i'm keeping that to myself for now okay? i'll probably tell you one day. just not today."

"why not?"

"just because." she smiles, "now let's sleep."

you grumble a little, confused at what miyeon could have told sana, confused with what miyeon told you. there was one thing you did want to test out though...

you lean in quickly and capture sana's lips, taking her a little by surprise but she's quick to reciprocate, closing her eyes and kissing you back.

you're aggressive, climbing on top of her quickly and licking into her. you're trying to figure out if kissing her made you feel anything more. anything that could clue you in on your true feelings for her.

she's breaking away from you panting though, pushing you back slightly when you try to chase after her again, "woah y/n baby baby slow down- what's got you all in a rush?"

your eyes are dark as you look down at her, friends don't normally feel like the world would end if they stopped kissing right? you needed to be back on her, in her, needed to feel her around you, needed to taste her, needed to memorise every single sound she made, you needed her. that was more than just lust right?

"just- just need you please-" you're leaning back in, almost begging.

"no- no y/n stop. tell me what's going on, you're not normally like this."

you groan, head falling to her shoulder, slumping against her. "something stupid miyeon said..." you mumble into her shoulder.

"what did she say?"

you huff against her, "that i had feelings for you."

you hear the gasp sana lets out, her hands at your waist tightening their hold and you groan into her, grinding down a little at the feeling.

she stills you though, hands sliding down to grip your hips, "stop that." her voice is harsh, and you're reminded of the way she talked to miyeon over the phone, all cold and annoyed. it only makes you drip more at the tone of her voice and you whimper a little.

"do you?"

"do i what?" you're distracted, wanting only to kiss her again.

"do you have feelings for me?"

you sigh, "don't know- that's what i'm trying to figure out."

"how are you trying to figure it out?"

"kissing you. touching you. seeing if all of it made me feel something more."

"something more?"

"i don't know. something other than horny."

sana hums before finally loosening her grip. "okay. try it. just promise me you'll tell me what you think afterwards?"

you're quick to latch onto her lips again, mumbling yes and thank you into her.

she bucks her hips up against you and you moan. she was finally giving into her feelings and letting you do what you wanted, expressing herself freely.

“can you- mmf- can you-“

“what what is it baby? what do you need?”

“can you- be mad at me?”

she’s kissing down your neck, nipping slightly as you grind down into her, “i’m not mad at you. we talked about this just then baby.”

“no- i need- can you pretend to be mad?”

she’s licking up to your ear, “i don’t understand baby. can you elaborate?”

“f-fuck sana- can you- just imagine i did like miyeon and i wanted to fuck her-“

you’re scared you said the wrong thing and ruined the mood when she stills under you. then all of a sudden she’s rolling you over and straddling your hips, lips and teeth back at the sensitive parts on your neck. “you like it when i’m mad?”

“g-god yes sana please-“

“whore. you want me to mark you up? make sure everyone knows your mine? mine to ruin?”

“yes yes sana please-“

you moan when you feel her sucking at your collarbone, intending on doing exactly that.

"off." her hands are at the bottom of your shirt tugging, and you scramble up, almost knocking your forehead against hers in haste, you'd laugh but you were so pent up you couldn't think about anything other than her fucking you all night long.

her hands are cold when she slides them up your stomach, cupping your tits and you shiver at the feeling.

"trying to piss me off on purpose bringing up her name into this hm? after we just made up too." she squeezes and you gasp into her, nipples hard against her palms as she runs a thumb over the tip.

"think my pretty baby's going to come for anyone else?" she circles a nipple leaving you twitching, "i'm going to ruin you so that everytime you even come close to coming in the future, you'll only be able to think about me."

she's licking a trail down the middle of your chest, before sucking marks into the sides of your breasts, avoiding your nipples, only tracing them lightly with the tip of her thumb.

you're squirming around under her, begging and crying, eyes clenched shut, hand drifting down towards your folds, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that's built up.

she snatches your hand quickly and pins it above your head, "don't even fucking think about it."

you whine under her, trying to pull away from her grip but she has you completely under her control.

"don't do that baby. you asked for this didn't you? you're going to be a good girl and take it now." her lips come back down on your other tit, sucking and licking again, you're grinding up into nothing, stuck with the feeling of your own sticky arousal.

"p-please sana need- please- more-"

"what do you need baby? this?" she takes a nipple into her mouth then, sucking gently and flicking over it with her tongue, then popping it out of her mouth, "or this?" a hand trails lower, thumbing the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. "maybe this?" a knee comes up then, pressing right where you need her most and you’re moaning against her.

"g-god sana- fuck- all- all of it- god i need all of it-"

"be more specific sweetie. you can do it. c'mon now."

"f-fuck need you to fuck me like you said you would. need to feel your fingers inside me, your mouth wrapped around my clit, your hands gripping my ass so hard it'll leave behind handprints. just need you sana please- please-"

"mmm that's a good girl. begging for me like the slut you are. because you were so pretty i'll give you that. but you gotta talk me through it okay? if you stop i'll stop and i'm going to go fuck myself in your bed and leave you here for the rest of the night."

you whimper, nodding your head.

"words baby."

"yes, yes yes god please just-"

she smirks and then she's back at your nipples, fully sucking on them now and pulling your bottoms off along with your panties, immediately swiping a finger through your wetness. the sudden change from feeling nothing to feeling everything be stimulated was almost too much but also exactly what you needed.

"god sana please- inside- need you inside."

she's pushing one finger in and you feel yourself clench around her, already so close, desperate for her. suddenly you're remembering your actual task, but before you can formulate another thought she's pulling out and thrusting back in with another finger.

"god you're so wet for me baby. how long have you been thinking about this hm?"

"i- fuck- i'm never not thinking about you sana."

sana hums, keeping a slow, languid pace, "is that helping with your little mission tonight?"

"i- w- fuck sana faster please-"

"answer the question first."

"f-fuck i- i don't know- i c-can't think- please-"

she's pulling out and removing herself from you so that none of your skin is touching anymore.

"now? now can you think?"

"sana please fuck- yes! yes it's helping everything is helping please just need you back-" you're making grabby hands at her, trying to pull her back so you can feel her against you again.

she obliges, pushing back into you and humming, "that's a good girl."

"thank you- god sana- thank you- mm fuck thank you-" you're babbling, barely making sense when she speeds up, curling her fingers inside you just the way she knows you like, and rubbing her thumb along your clit each thrust inside.

soon enough, you're coming around her, her name and curses spilling out of your mouth but she's not done. she's crawling down your body, marking almost every inch of skin she can get her mouth on, and then latching onto your clit and sucking, fingers still pounding into you.

"f-fuck! sana! 's too much! f-fuck-"

she only hums against you, the vibrations against your clit only tightening the coil in your belly once more and the overstimulation is too much and you feel yourself coming again.

she's pulling out and you think she's finished but she flips you onto your stomach, slipping a pillow under you to lift your ass up, hands gripping the cheeks and spreading them apart, just like how you had begged her to. but then her fingers are prodding at your entrance again and she slides in, and this angle is so much deeper and you cry out, muffled against the sheets, trying to squirm away from her but she's got your ass right where she wants you.

she's leaning down, pushing in and out of you again, you can feel her chest against your back, the fact that she's still wearing her top fleetingly crosses your mind but you can still feel her hardened nipples against your skin, you arch back into her.

"my baby's not done yet. you're going to give me another one. and another one. until you've finished your little experiment right?"

you're sobbing into the sheets, the delightful mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body, your hyperaware of every single movement, every single place your skin touches, every breath she takes as she ruts her fingers into you.

you feel your third orgasm coming up when a hand is snaking a way back up your body, pinching roughly at your nipples before closing around your throat. you gulp and clench even harder around her fingers when she squeezes her hand lightly, moaning your approval.

"yeah? you like that slut?"

"y-yes o-oh god fuck- sana- fuck-"

she's squeezing tighter now and the pressure is perfect, the lightheadedness from the cutoff of oxygen combined with the overstimulation and you're coming again, thrashing into her as she releases you slowly, heaving in air as specks of black dot your vision.

you feel almost numb when she slides the pillow out from under you, turning you slightly so she can kiss you gently, and you moan at the taste of yourself on her tongue.

she's slipping a leg between yours when you realise that she's taken off her bottoms, and you gasp when the feeling of her wetness glides against your clit.

you whimper against her lips, "sana..."

"shhhh baby one more."

you're helpless against her, whining and pushing yourself into her, relishing the way her breath catches and she moans when your clits drag along each other. she's got one hand at your tit again, pinching a nipple and you need to feel more of her so you slide a hand up her top, grasping at her breast and moaning when she rocks against you just a little harder at the feeling.

your lips never leave each other, even when you're so blissed out you're just panting into her mouth, rutting against her. you're not even thinking straight when you mumble the words, slurred together and mixed with curses, but sana still catches it. "i love you."

she stops immediately, leaving you humping her like a dog, panting into her wondering why she's stopped.

she's gripping your hips, stilling you, eyes wide, "what did you just say?"

"i love you sana fuck- please- please let me come again please-"

her eyes study you, half-dazed, and then suddenly she's rutting against you again, your hands tighten around her tits just to be able to hold onto something because she's pushing against you and you're so close and her hands are basically moving your hips against hers without you even doing anything, she's moaning into your mouth, caught in her own pleasure and it's all too much when you feel her tighten her legs around you, coming with a whine and shaking, you come again, eyes closing and feeling the wave of pleasure wash over your body, twitching lightly against her in the aftershock.

when you pull apart your legs are sticky and filthy and hers aren't much better, stained with your essence, you can't even open your eyes, just letting her plant light kisses across your face and neck, holding her against you and learning to breathe again.

when she kisses your eyelids you manage to peek open, staring at her in wonder.

"did you mean it?" her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, hair sticking to her forehead, bottom lip protruding a little in a pout.

you were overcome with pleasure and overstimulation, but you remember everything you said. "i did. i love you. i'm sorry it took this long to realise it."

she sighs, eyes tearing up, "i love you too idiot."

"what about the season?"

"we'll figure that out later. let me clean you up and we can cuddle and sleep?"

you hum, whining when she leaves you to grab a damp towel, missing her warmth already. it felt painful to be without her. every second you spent apart, you were thinking about her, you can't help but laugh at how stupid you've been. you've been in love with sana for the better half of your life, you were determined to make it up to her. to show her just how much you loved her. just how much you needed her in your life.

you smile happily when she comes back, bringing her into a sweet kiss and letting her wipe at your legs. you were so, utterly, in love with her, and you finally realised it.

[princessmisery666]

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you! 

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 

“That’s the one.” 

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 

“Thank you, Miss…” 

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 

If only she knew. 

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks. 

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 

“I did it already,” he calls after you. 

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 

“Say what?” 

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

[ahonice]

lucky; pt.2

part one

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings: cursing, drinking, implications of sex/sexual jokes & situations, slight hate towards business majors, probably definitely incorrect knowledge about pre med shit.

note: since so many people asked for a part two (literally only fifteen but still) i finally got over the grudge i have against series/part twos and i'm here to relieve you all. this is the opposite of planned out, i am writing this as i go along so i hope it doesn’t suck too badly (actually scared no one will like this because of how much love part one got). anyways enjoy, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes <3

italics are flashbacks

+++

you and luke didn’t arrive back at the house until past midnight. neither of you expected anyone to be awake when you entered through the front door, but the sound of multiple voices proved that theory to be wrong.

“i think my brother’s friends got here a little earlier than we anticipated.” luke told you as he opened the door, going unnoticed by the small crowd in the living room. “let’s just get to my room and go to sleep, we need some rest.” you nodded at luke’s words as he moved himself behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, you knew he was subconsciously attempting to protect you from the group of guys, more specifically his brothers.

we didn’t make it far though, only a few moments later a voice called out at luke, causing everyone else to focus their attention on us. sighing, luke let go of you and moved forward to greet everybody, muttering an apology as he passed by you. 

you stood there awkwardly, trying to decide if you should wait for luke to finish with his tiny game of catch up or if you should just go up into his room and wait for him there. after what happened today luke asked his mother if the two of you could stay in the same room today, she agreed after a little bit of begging on luke’s behalf. before you could make your own decision the room’s attention was no longer on luke.

“who is the girl luke?” 

your head shot up at the mention of you, instantly becoming a bit self conscious because of the number of eyes on you. you made eye contact with quinn for a split second before tears started to build up again, seeing him just reminded you of everything that you had been through in the past twenty four hours.

“that’s my girlfriend, y/n.” luke said, making his way back to your side and attempting to block you from the eyes that were visibly making you uncomfortable. “-and if you don’t mind we would like to get to bed, it’s been a long day. you can all be properly introduced in the morning.” without letting anybody else get a word in, he turned around and guided you up to his room with his hands around your waist.

+++

you woke relatively early, the sun was just beginning to rise so you took this as your opportunity to go outside and spend some time on your own, you needed it. it took a little bit to get luke’s death grip on you loose enough for you to wiggle out of bed, but after you were successfully free you grabbed one of his hoodies to throw on over your pjs and pulled your hair out of your face with a claw clip. 

you silently made your way out of the house and took a seat out on the dock, taking a quick picture of the view as the sky turned shades of pink and orange. you dipped your feet into the water before grabbing your journal, deciding it was best to write your feelings down on paper just for your better understanding of everything that has happened.

as you finished up your journal entry you noticed the sun was now peaking over the tree line, you took a picture of the view, as well as a picture of your legs with your feet in the water and the pink journal in your lap. you opened up instagram and put all the pictures you took this morning and posted them to your private instagram account, captioning it “yesterday was one of the worst days of my life, can only hope today and each day after will be better.” 

you spent a few more minutes in silence, enjoying the fresh air you were getting. your trance was broken by the sound of footsteps on the dock.

“hey dear, what are you doing up so early?” you turned around to look at the man speaking.

“hi jim.” you smiled as he sat down next to you. “i’m just spending some time outside. i felt like i needed some fresh air.” 

jim nodded before speaking, “i’m sorry about everything. i had no idea any of this was going on, and i am sorry that i didn’t pick up on it earlier.” 

“it’s okay, don’t feel bad for not noticing it earlier. i should’ve spoken up when it first started happening.” you told him, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“would you like to join me and ellen today? we’re just running some errands but it could be fun, help you escape the sausage party that has become the lake house.” jim offered, causing you to laugh at his use of the phrase “sausage party”.

“yeah i would love to.”

+++

you had gotten ready for the day without waking up your boyfriend, so you decided to continue to let him sleep. you went to your room and began packing your bags because you would be leaving in two days and you needed to begin getting ready for your departure back home. once the room was all sorted and looked like nobody was staying in it, you put your luggage back into the closet and made your way downstairs, cleaning had always been a way for you to relieve stress. 

“sorry to keep you guys waiting, i wanted to clean up my room.” you told ellen and jim as you made your way downstairs.

“no need for apologies sweetie, let’s go. our first stop is breakfast.” 

+++

you had gone to breakfast with luke’s parents and told them about your plans for after college.

“right now i’m planning on becoming a medical examiner.” you explained as you waited for your orders. “i just have to see if i made it into the pre-med program before i can begin properly planning my future.” ellen and jim nodded, and continued to ask some questions about how your first year of university was going and other school related topics. 

+++

after breakfast they took you to the local farmers/flea market, you were excited as you had been meaning to ask luke to come along with you. as you were browsing your options you saw a couple booths near each other with fabric for sale, you quickly made your way over and began looking at what was all there. after a few moments you found the colors you were looking for. 

you purchased your rolls of cloth as well as some embroidery floss in an assortment of colors because you had been meaning to stock up on it and some yarn for one of your experiments. after getting everything you made your way back towards ellen and jim, telling them what you got. 

the next stop was the grocery store, with jack’s friends arriving early the house wasn’t stocked up for everybody staying over. during your morning with luke’s parents the topic of what happened the day before didn’t come up until your last stop of the day. 

you were looking around a local garden shop, looking for a new plant to bring home, when ellen came up to you.

“i just want to apologize again for what happened yesterday. i am beyond embarrassed for how my sons have been treating you. you mean a lot to me, jim, and luke, and after the talk i had with them yesterday i’m hoping jack and quinn will come around as well.” you smiled at ellen, a couple tears were brought to surface when she said that you meant a lot to her. 

once you and luke were gone ellen walked up to her oldest sons and they immediately knew what was coming.

“mom, please don’t-”

“no quinn! i am going to.” she sighed, “y/n means so much to luke, and for you guys to be so rude and disrespectful towards her is unacceptable. has she ever done anything to make you guys feel that way? or were these assumptions completely based on snap judgements?” ellen took her son’s silence as an answer. “y/n is good for luke, i’ve never seen him happier. he loves her enough to introduce us and allow us to spend time with her, and this is how you pay him back? you two need to figure out a way to fix this, i suggest you start with opening up the presents that y/n spent hours making for you two that you guys never had the common decency to be appreciative about, i think you’ll like what they are.” after giving them one more look of disappointment she walked back into the house to find jim and explain to him what was going on.

“i think they want to open up the gifts you made, but i never got to properly ask because their friends showed up.” you smiled at her. them opening up the gifts wasn’t going to fix everything, ellen knew this, but it was a start. 

+++

it was only eleven when you returned back to the lake house, with how late everybody stayed up last night you didn’t expect anyone to awake yet, you were wrong. ellen and jim had some more places to go but didn’t want to take up your whole day so they dropped you back off at the house before continuing their list of things to do. when you got up to the front porch you heard the voices of multiple people, one being your boyfriend, and they were all yelling.

“this is all your guys’ fault! my girlfriend left because of you two and how you’ve been treating her.” you heard luke shout. you quickly realized you never informed luke of your last minute plans with his parents, you kind of expected ellen to send a message to him or to any of the boys to explain her and jim’s absence when they woke up. 

“luke calm the fuck down. her car is still out front, she obviously didn’t leave.” jack’s voice was heard as you tried to open the front door, of course it was fucking locked. 

“her luggage is gone, her room is spotless, it looks like nobody has stayed in it for weeks.” luke voice was breaking. you quickly knocked, more pounded, on the door needing someone to let you in. shortly after your began hitting the door it was opened, you didn’t recognize who it was so you knew it had to be one of quinn or jack’s guests.

“found her.”

you pushed past him and made your way to the living room where everyone was at, dropping your bags and wrapping luke into a hug. he noticeably relaxed under your touch, he grabbed onto you like his life depended on it and you heard muffled sobs against your neck where his face was buried into.

“i thought you left me.” he said, you were the only one that heard it he was that quiet. 

“i’m so sorry luke, i–” you were going to explain what happened but you were cut off before you could continue.

“where the hell did you go?” you weren’t expecting that question, especially from who it came from. jack looked at you, anticipating your answer. you stood shocked, the genuine worry in his tone was enough to throw you off balance and leave you unable to speak. your silence seemed to just agitate him. “luke was worried sick. i get that you’re upset with me and with quinn, i do, we have been treating you horribly, but pulling this shit, causing us all to worry for you and your safety, just to get back at us is not okay.” 

you felt bad, until he said that. “jack i didn’t run away as a form of revenge, i didn’t even run away, i went out with your parents. they thought i could use a break from everything going on here, and they were right.” you detached yourself from luke, your heart cracking a little bit when he whimpered at the loss of touch, and went to grab your bags from earlier. once they were in your hands again you walked up the stairs, grabbing Luke's wrist in the process. “i don’t owe either of you assholes any further explanations.”

+++

“i thought you left me because of how my brothers were treating you.” once you and luke made it into his room he broke down again, causing the guilt in you to bubble up.

“i’m so sorry baby, i would never leave you. your dad invited me to spend the morning with him and your mom and i thought it would be good to spend some time away from the house.” you said, rubbing his back as you sat in his lap, chest to chest.

after a few more minutes and a couple more apologies luke stopped crying, his sadness replaced with a slight amount of anger.

“don’t you ever do that again. i am your boyfriend, you are my guest in this house, i don’t want this to come off as insanely possessive, but i have a right to know where you are.” you could only nod at his words.

“i’m sorry luke, it didn’t even cross my mind. i wrongly assumed your mom would tell you, or that you would still be sleeping by the time i got back.”

“hey i’m not that lazy.” his joking nature allowed you to further calm down, you both got what you needed to off our chests.

“i can’t believe i called your brothers assholes.” you groaned, knowing that would probably make them dislike you even more.

“they deserved it.” luke said, giving you a kiss right after. “anyways, it was hot.” 

“oh really?” you giggled, a blush forming on your cheeks as his hands began wandering.

“it’s a good thing i locked the door when we walked in.”

+++

it wasn’t for a couple more hours that you and luke went back downstairs, he thought it was time that you were actually introduced to the guests that joined you at the house.

“y/n this is trevor, cole, and alex, guys this is my girlfriend. y/n.” you smiled at them and said a faint hello, they all smiled back except for one. it was the one who asked luke who i was last night and opened the door for me earlier, the one who was now identified as trevor. he quickly went up to me and hugged me, taking me by surprise, i hesitantly brought my arms around him and gave him a slight pat on the back.

“it’s nice to finally meet you, i’ve heard many different things about you but i can already tell most of them were full of shit.” you smiled, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “well we were all planning on going out on the lake for a bit, eat dinner, watch the sunset, you two in?” you and luke both nodded before heading back upstairs to get ready.

+++

the tension on the boat was very evident, you felt bad for the three boys who probably had no idea what had happened just a day before, you’d probably feel even worse if they did know.

luke was quick to gain your attention, talking to you about the most random things. you kept up with his conversation before you noticed that jack and his friends were huddled up and whispering on the other side of the boat, you wouldn’t have been bothered if it weren’t for them constantly looking up at you before going back to their gossip session. you began to feel a little self conscious, you made an effort to cover yourself as much as you could with the one towel you could find near you. luke noticed the shift in your focus.

“is everything okay? you seem distracted, i’m sorry if you didn’t want to be near them so soon.”

“no luke it’s fine, i just feel like they’re talking about me.” you tried to subtly motion towards jack and his friends. luke just glared at them, seeing what you were seeing.

“here come sit on my lap, i’ll wrap my arms around you and protect you from them.” you giggled at his joking tone.

“anything to touch me huh hughes?” you poked at him once you were in his lap.

+++

dinner was served, an assortment of caprisuns and beers as well as uncrustables were on the menu for tonight. you moved up to grab some for you and luke when you got into a conversation with cole.

“so how long have you and luke been together?” 

“ten months, our one year is in september.” you smiled, already excited for whatever the two of you would have planned for that night. 

soon you were whisked away into a conversation, more like interrogation, about your relationship. trevor and cole sat next to you while jack, alex, and quinn sat in front of you. the oldest hughes put your boyfriend on wheel duty so he was on the other side of the boat, shooting you a worried glance each time you made eye contact with him. 

“how did you meet?”

“we were in the same orientation group, we got paired together for this water balloon game.” you smiled at the memory, remembering how horrible luke was at simply catching the balloon.

“what are you studying?” quinn’s question caught you off guard, seemingly since for the past ten minutes all you’ve been asked about was his brother.

“i’m currently hoping to go pre-med, i will find out if i made it into the program in the next couple days hopefully.” you told him with a smile.

“so you wanna be a nurse or something?” trevor asked.

“no. if i wanted to be a nurse i would be in the nursing program.” you told him, taking a sip of the beer you were holding before continuing. “i’m planning on being a medical examiner, conducting autopsies, figuring out the time and cause of death of a person.” you could tell the topic of dead bodies made your small q/a crowd uncomfortable which caused you to giggle. “any more questions? or can i return to my boyfriend now?” the boys just shook their heads in response, so you got up and sat on luke’s lap.

“so how did that go? you don’t seem too tense anymore.” luke asked once you were both situated.

“it went decent, i think, they just asked about us the whole time.” he nodded at your answer. “-oh, but quinn did ask me a question about myself and just myself, nothing that had to do with you.” luke looked over at his oldest brother with a small smile, who returned it before you, unknowingly, interrupted the moment by asking luke to take some pictures of you.

+++

you spent the night in luke’s room again, the boys needed a room to stay in anyways, so you had convinced ellen and jim that staying with luke for two nights wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“i don’t want you to leave.” luke said quietly, stealing your attention away from the tv screen.

“i don’t want to leave.” you replied, shifting to face him.

“then don’t. i can guarantee my parents wouldn’t have any problems with you staying for another week or two.” 

“luke i can’t, my sewing machine and all my other clothing stuff is back at my house and i’ve honestly gone a little insane just going five days without it–” luke rolled his eyes at your reasoning, giving you a look of disbelief.

“seriously, a machine is the reason you don’t wanna spend more time with your boyfriend?”

“-also i get my pre-med acceptance letter soon, if i get in, and i want to be with my parent’s when that happens and i know that they’re gonna want to celebrate with a party.”

“i think if you want to get closer to my brothers, or at least have them get to know you, you should stay here an extra week or two. they mean just as much to me as you do and i’m not saying you need to be best friends with them, but it would be nice if you guys got to know each other more and spend more time together.”

silence, and eventually sleep, consumed the two of you. both knowing an argument would only start if you continued to talk about it.

+++

you woke up in an empty bed, frowning you got up and looked around the room to see if he was at least still in his bedroom, he wasn’t. you got up and began getting ready, throwing a pink bikini and some jean shorts before braiding your hair.

once you were downstairs your boyfriend was still nowhere to be found, you made your way outside where you saw his brothers and friends, luke was not with them.

“hey guys, do you know where luke is?” you asked the group, hoping one of them had an answer for you.

“he left like two hours ago, didn’t mention where he was going though.” jack answered, you nodded. “if you would like to join us, we were planning on going wakesurfing today, i don’t want you getting bored in the house by yourself.” you smiled at his offer and accepted, telling the group to give you a few minutes so you could grab some things for the boat, sending luke a text on your way back into the house.

to: luke <3

hey, where are you?

to: luke <3

i’m going on the boat with your brothers and friends so wish me luck lol

you packed your bag and joined the boys outside who were already on the boat waiting for you.

+++

an hour later you still hadn’t received a response from luke and you were getting worried.

to: luke <3

are you okay?

to: luke <3

i find it funny that yesterday when i did this exact thing you said you had a right to know where i was at all times, do i not have that right either? 

“y/n do you wanna try it?” my attention was drawn away from my phone to look at cole.

“sure, i don’t know what i’m doing though.” you replied, moving to take off your shorts and put on the life vest.

“didn’t do it before we got here?” alex asked.

“no, i had other things distracting me.” i glanced over at quinn who gave me an embarrassed smile before speaking.

“i’m sorry for that, i really am, it was uncalled for.” you just nodded in response, not really wanting to talk about it in front of everybody.

+++

you sucked at wakesurfing. you were able to keep your balance for thirty seconds at most before you slipped, or the one time trevor tackled you into the water. which of course was filmed and posted onto trevor’s story, the embarrassing scream you had let out was now viewable to his thousands of followers

once you guys got off the boat you quickly made your way inside to see if luke had shown up yet, he still hadn’t. you quickly opened your phone to call him but got no response, now you were mad. you two had talked about the importance of communication and the risks of not knowing where the other was yesterday, and here he was doing the opposite of everything he asked of you yesterday. 

to: luke <3

idk what the hell you’re doing right now but it has now been six hours since i’ve woken up and you’re still nowhere to be found and no one has heard from you. 

to: luke <3

i’m going to dinner with your brothers, so wish me luck, and if i don’t hear back from you by the time it’s dark i will send in a missing persons report.

to: luke <3

just lmk you’re safe.

you weren’t planning on leaving for dinner for a couple more hours so you spent some time getting the proper measurements for some clothes you would be working on, as well as studying up on how to knit a sweater since you would be trying that for the first time when you went back home. 

you didn’t change for dinner, just throwing one of luke’s michigan shirts on top of your swimsuit and putting your shorts back on. soon you made your way downstairs where it was just quinn waiting, everyone else apparently still getting ready. when you saw it was just him you quickly tried to make a run for it and go back to your room.

“you know you don’t have to avoid me, i think it’s about time we talked anyways.” quinn’s voice stopped you from going up the stairs. you wanted to keep walking away, you really did, but you knew you needed to have the discussion. you made your way back into the living room and sat on the couch seat furthest away from quinn. 

“ok let’s talk.” you started once you sat down. “can you tell me why you did what you did?” 

you got straight to the point, not wanting to spare any time. 

“i was just looking out for my little brother, i didn’t know you.”

“-you still don’t know me. the only information you know about me is my name and that i’m an aspiring pre-med student at michigan.” you interrupted quinn, earning a glare in your direction.

“yes. i still don’t know you, but i’m hoping that in the next two weeks that you’re staying here i can get to know you.” he finished speaking with a sigh, like it almost pained him to say those words. 

“wait what? i’m leaving tomorrow to go home, i’m not staying for an extra two weeks.” you were confused, your parents were expecting you home in the next twenty four hours.

“luke told me this morning that there was a change of plans and that you were going to be staying an extra two weeks.” quinn said, equally as confused. “did you not know this?”

you could only shake your head as an answer while you pulled your phone out to text luke.

to: luke <3

i don’t know if you were trying to surprise me with an extra two weeks at the lake house but i told you i couldn’t do that, my parents wont allow it.

from: luke <3

*image*

i’m with your parents right now, they said it’s okay. i’m at dinner with them though so i’ll talk to you later, but please wait to yell at me until i’m back at the lake house tonight. i’m gonna hit the road soon.

“that little shit.” you muttered, making quinn laugh.

“what did he do?”

“he has been ignoring my texts and calls all day, which is a problem on its own especially because of what happened yesterday, and now he is at dinner with my parents five hours away in my hometown convincing them to let me stay here longer than what was planned.”

“you don’t want to stay here longer? is it because of me and jack? because i meant what i said on the boat, i really am sorry. no matter what the circumstances were, i took it too far. i’m shocked it took you so long to call us assholes.” quinn’s last comment makes you laugh.

“i’m not gonna lie, you two are partially why i want to leave, but also because i know that next week more of your guys’ friends will be here and that ellen and jim are leaving, i just don’t want to intrude.” quinn nodded at your reasons.

“well if you do stay i think it would be a good time for me to properly get to know you, i would say that we could just start over and forget everything that happened…” he trailed off waiting for an answer from you.

“-not a chance. what you, and jack, did was not okay. i forgive, but i don’t forget.” before quinn could say anything in response the rest of the boys came downstairs and we all headed out to the cars to go to dinner.

+++

dinner was another interrogation, but this time it was almost all questions about you.

“so what do you do for fun?” that can be a loaded question, alex asked you it in hopes to be able to spark more conversations about things that might tie to your answers.

“well i like to design and create clothing, or add things to a boring sweatshirt from the thrift. i do lots of upcycling with things i find at goodwill.” you answered, not knowing how they would respond.

“do you have any pictures of things you have made in the past?” cole asked this time, you nodded and got out your phone. showing them some pullovers you had embroidered things onto, the swimsuits you had made from scratch for you and luke, the apron and hand towels that were gifted to ellen, as well as the ties and matching pocket squares that you made for the hughes boys.

“oh that’s the set you made for my dad.” jack said before pausing, noticing the embroidered initials and numbers on the ties next to the one his father owned. “were those our gifts?” he had gotten so quiet you were shocked you were able to hear it.

“yeah they were, still are if you want them, luke told me the colors of your teams and i went from there to make them.” you told jack before looking at quinn who had a matching look as his brothers.

“can’t believe you ever made gifts for them after how they had treated you.” trevor’s joke made you wince, it seems like they don’t know the full story. 

“well i didn’t do it to get on their good side, i did it just because i thought this would be something they would enjoy, something personal to wear before games or at events, and creating things for people is something i really enjoy.” you kept your head down while talking, not wanting anyone to see the emotion in your face. the waitress soon brought everyone’s food out, you thanked anything and everything that lived up above as something was there to distract everybody for the time being.

+++

once back from dinner you went to hangout by the docks and watch the sunset, the boys had dropped you off per your request because you desperately needed some alone time. after the sun had fully set and you were pleased with the photos you had taken, you decided to go for a swim, stripping off your shirt and shorts, shivering as the cold breeze of the night came over you. you didn’t give yourself time to rethink your actions and jumped into the lake, you were freezing but it felt good. the cold being exactly what you needed.

you don’t know how long you were out there before you heard the sliding door open.

“babe are you out here?” luke’s voice brought immense comfort over you, it felt like it had been days since you’d last seen him. slowly swimming towards the steps you made yourself known.

“yes” you shouted, stepping out of the water and onto the dock. luke quickly made his way towards you, stopping once he was at the end of the dock and could see what you were wearing.

“you look really hot in that swimsuit.” you blushed at his compliment, and at the way his eyes were raking over your body. “you shouldn’t be able to look this hot babe.”

“oh really?” you said stepping closer to him, looking at his lower half to see if he had anything in his pockets, he didn’t. “well, we should do something about that then.” you reached out to grab his shoulders and turn him around, leaning in for a kiss, but before your lips could touch you shoved him into the water. “that’s what you get for ignoring me all day.” 

you jumped into the water a few moments later, luke’s shocked face making you laugh harder. 

“what the hell y/n.” luke asked once the shock from the cold died down in him.

“it seemed like you needed some cooling down, also you spent the whole day ignoring me and then went behind my back to get me to stay an extra two weeks.” you replied, swimming up closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i have a surprise for you when we get back inside to make up for it.” luke’s arms instinctively wrapped around your waist. 

you stayed like that for quite some time, luke filling you in on his day and vice versa.

“so quinn apologized to you and said he wanted to get to know you during the rest of your stay?” you nodded at his question, making luke’s smile grow wider than it already was. “that is so great y/n.”

as you were about to add something to what luke had said the sound of footsteps made you close your mouth.

“yeah mom they’re out here.” jack yelled back in the direction of the house. “you two are in trouble, get inside.” 

+++

“so luke, do you see you and y/n lasting? like once you start in the NHL?” 

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but you knew that you had woken up while luke’s brothers were grilling him about our relationship. you didn’t open your eyes, you knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but they should know the risks of talking loudly while someone sleeps a few inches away from them.

“i do see us lasting, for a long time. i know you guys might think this is premature but i can see myself spending the rest of my life with her.” luke’s words made your heart rate pick up, “i want her to come to new jersey, but after she has completed all her schooling. i can’t ask her to give up her education for me, it means too much to her.” 

“but if she goes pre-med she will have a lot more years of school, it’s an extra four years and usually more. could you wait about ten years for her? is she worth it?”

“y/n is absolutely worth it, i don’t care how long it takes for her to finish school she is it for me.” tears had started to well up in your eyes, you couldn’t pretend to be asleep anymore. 

you shot up from your spot on the couch and tackled luke in a hug, you had never doubted luke’s commitment for you, but to hear him say it, especially to people who aren’t the biggest fan of you meant a lot.

“i love you luke.” you whispered, a few tears spilling out. 

“i love you too baby.” 

you both missed the look his brothers gave each other, a look that said “maybe she isn’t so bad”

+++

 you didn’t make it into the pre-med program. your parents had opened the letter with you over facetime, you were crushed. yes you could apply next year, and every year after that until you got accepted, but you didn’t want to do that, you wanted to get into the program after one try and that didn’t happen. 

luke was there for you, he held you while you cried, comforted you when trevor accidentally got you a congratulations balloon thinking you were accepted, and stayed with you during the days even though you knew he wanted to spend time with people that weren’t you.

one day you did force him to go out on the lake, dylan and mackie had arrived that morning and you know he wanted to hang out with them, even though he told you he was happy to spend the day with you. you spent a lot of the day cleaning, with ellen gone the house started to look like only teenage boys were staying there. once you were done with that you made lunch and headed back upstairs to finish your next task. after plenty of talks with your parents, and a few emails with your advisor, you decided to change your major to business. all your life you’d been making clothes, you thought you might just make a career out of it because you enjoy doing it so much. you hadn’t told anyone other than your parents, you were scared to. you didn’t want anyone, more specifically luke, to think you were giving up on becoming a medical examiner just because you got one rejection letter. and you did what you did best when you were anxious about something, you made clothes and cleaned. when luke went back to your hometown last week he grabbed your storage tote full of all the essentials, your sewing machine, the brand new embroidery machine your parents bought you to celebrate completing your first year of university, and way too many fabrics. while you’ve been bunkered up in luke’s room, not wanting to face the world just yet you’ve made lots of items. ties for jim, a sweater for ellen, another bathing suit for luke, and today you were determined to make matching shirts for you and luke. you started with making basic white tee, you could’ve easily bought them but there is no fun in that, and then you decided to do a heat transfer of the design you picked out.

they were gonna be gag gifts, every year one of the frats hosts a “twin” party where you and your date show up in matching outfits and this year you and luke were going together. your shirt would say “i 🩷 my boyfriend” with an image of the two of you on the back, and his would be the exact same but with girlfriend instead of boyfriend. the creation of the shirts didn’t take as long as you thought it would, so now you were looking for more things to do, you weren’t able to make a decision as luke’s door was opened by jack. 

“hey me and quinn are going to get ice cream, would you like to come?” you accepted their offer, knowing that you needed to get out of the house. 

it didn’t hit you that this would be the first time you would be alone with luke’s brothers, ever. sure you had your conversation with quinn the other night, but now that jack was here it made you just as fearful, a bit more even.

+++

“so what did you do today? i know that luke went out with dylan and mackie, we haven’t been seeing you much.” jack said once you all sat down for ice cream.

“well i assume you guys heard that i did not make it into the pre-med program so i’ve just been in a small slump lately–” you were cut off by quinn.

“we actually didn’t know, but that makes sense why trevor felt so guilty about the balloon he got you.” 

“yeah, but today i actually switched my major. i’m gonna study business now, possibly entrepreneurship, i decided to pursue a career more based on starting my own clothing company.” you told the boys, who glanced at each other.

“well that is amazing, congratulations. have you told luke yet?” jack asked, beating quinn to speaking.

“no, you guys are actually the first people i’ve told, trying to avoid others thinking i’m giving up on pre-med.” the boys nodded at your reasoning, quinn decided to fill the silence this time.

“luke told us he brought up your clothing stuff, have you made anything?”

“yeah, i’ve made a couple ties, some shirts, a sweater, and a swimsuit.” you laughed at their shocked faces. “i’ve had a lot of free time since i haven’t been leaving the house.”

+++

it had now been five days since you switched your major and you still hadn’t told luke, even if you wanted to tell him you probably wouldn’t have the time to since he has been with dylan, mackie, and the couple other michigan players that have arrived at the house. this is one of the reasons why you didn’t want to stay any longer than a week, you knew luke was going to become distant when his friends showed up.

waking up to an empty bed became normal, luke and the other boys would do some training in the mornings. so like you did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, you got up and made your way downstairs to make breakfast. quickly distracted by the mess that had been made from what you assumed were smoothies or homemade protein shakes. you silently cursed whoever made the mess while you cleaned it up, then moving on to do some laundry. towels and swimsuits had been piling up in a very overfilled basket and you knew none of the boys were gonna do it. once the load was in you moved on to tidy up the living room, folding blankets, fluffing pillows, vacuuming. 

“stress cleaning?” you whipped your head around to see jack sitting on top of a freshly fluffed pillow and unfolding a blanket.

“no, why would you think that?” you said, while walking over to get him off of the loveseat to make it presentable again.

“because you still haven’t told luke about switching majors and the more you hold off the worse you think he is going to react.” jack stated, “also, you just kicked me out of my seat to do whatever the hell that is.” pointing to you as he sat down on the floor.

you scoffed and stopped karate chopping the throw pillow once it looked nice enough. “you don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

 “just tell him y/n, i’m serious. he is only going to be more hurt the longer you take to tell him, and you don’t wanna hurt my brother, i’ve just started to like you.” he smirked when you glared at him.

“haha very funny jack.” 

“what’s got you so scared to tell him anyways?” jack asked in a much softer tone of voice, patting the spot on the carpet next to him. 

you sat before sighing. “i don’t want him to think i’m giving up on something just because of one small hardship. all the time i hear him bragging to his teammates and friends about how his girlfriend is super smart and is gonna be the best doctor for the dead in the world one day, i’m scared to disappoint him.” you felt a couple tears in your eyes before you continued to speak. “i’ve seen him researching med schools near newark, one’s that have the best program for medical examiners. he believes in me, he knows i could do this even if i don’t, and i don’t want him to think i’m dumbing myself down to a bachelors in the most basic study field ever.” by the end of your small rant the tears had begun falling, they weren’t sobs but they were there.

“y/n, luke loves you so much. you getting a four year degree in business is not going to change that, yes he is your number one supporter when it comes to you becoming a medical examiner, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be your number one supporter when it comes to you being a fashion designer, or whatever it is you want to do i’m a little confused.” you laughed as jack continued. “do you know how much shit me and the guys have given him for some of the things he wears, we don’t even call him luke anymore he is just “simp” to us now, but he doesn’t care about that, he cares about you and your happiness, and if getting made fun of for wearing matching swimsuits with you or wearing a hat with your initials on it means making you happy, he is going to do it. he will be there for you no matter what because he loves you, and i can see why he does. you’re an amazing person y/n, and i’m so sorry for how i have been treating you over the past ten months. i know that sorrys aren’t enough to make up for what we did to you, but i hope it can be a start to us becoming friends because i need more people to bother luke with me.” you smiled and pulled jack into a hug, thanking him for the apology and kind words as well as forgiving him.

“one more thing, did he really refer to you as a future doctor for the dead?” jack asked, laughing a little.

“yes, it was so funny.” 

+++

you and jack decided to watch a movie while you waited for luke to come back from training, quinn soon joined you two on the floor after he had woken up. it was nice, there was no awkward tension, no glares being thrown in your direction, you felt like you were all getting along for the first time and that made you smile.

“um why are you all on the floor?” dylan’s voice cut the peacefulness that had come over the three of you, all three of you quickly looked away from the tv to see the boys all back from training. you made eye contact with luke who was looking at you with a shocked, but very happy, expression. you just smiled and gave him two thumbs up, before turning towards jack and quinn to excuse yourself. you made your way to luke and gave him a kiss and grabbed his hand to take him upstairs, but not before telling jack to switch the laundry loads for you.

+++

once you were in luke’s room he began asking you questions about what he had just walked in on.

“well i was stress cleaning and jack walked in on me doing it and somehow got me to tell him about all my problems, if hockey doesn’t work out for him you should tell him to join the counseling field, but after i went a mini rant about what i’ve been fixated on lately he apologized and we talked everything out and i think we are officially on good terms.” you said in one breath, smiling as luke wrapped you up in a hug.

“what about quinn? is everything okay between you two?” you nodded and explained that you had talked it out with him a couple days ago. 

+++

you and luke started getting ready for the dinner party that the hughes brothers were invited to and you were going as luke’s plus one, you didn’t fully understand what it was for but all you knew was that it was a semi-formal event, making it the perfect opportunity to have luke wear the tie you made him a few days prior, the one that matched your soft pink dress. 

as you were doing your makeup luke spoke up again, going back to your conversation from before.

“wait babe, you said that you were stress cleaning. what are you stressed about?” luke asked, walking into the bathroom and leaning against the counter. you looked at him through the mirror and continued applying mascara as you told him.

“about a week ago, after i got the rejection letter, i switched my major to business and entrepreneurship, to pursue a career in fashion. i didn’t tell you because i was nervous on how you would react, and the longer i kept it from you the more stressed out i got. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i know how excited you were to be dating a genius and now i’ve let you down.” you looked at his face to see his reaction, but his face wasn’t telling you anything. 

silence took over the bathroom as luke tried to find the right words to say.

“you could never let me down y/n, yes i am a little upset that it took you so long to tell me, but i understand why you did it. i am proud of you and everything you have accomplished so far. so med school isn’t for you? you are going to kick ass in the fashion industry babe, they won’t know what hit them.” he smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your shoulder. “i love you y/n, never doubt that.” 

“i love you too luke.” 

+++

you and luke sat in the living room waiting for his brothers to come downstairs, you began to get a little antsy as you feared you would be late if you didn’t leave in the next five minutes.

“would you two hurry up! y/n is pacing back and forth cursing you guys for making us late.” luke yelled up to his brothers, who quickly made their way downstairs.

“sorry we weren’t sure how to tie these ties.” quinn said once they were both at the bottom of the steps.

you looked up at them and instantly began smiling. “you’re wearing them.”

jack and quinn looked at you, both with huge grins on their faces, before pulling you into a hug. they were wearing the ties you had made them for the holidays, nearly a year ago. 

“we love our gifts.” and “better late than never” were said but you weren’t sure who said which.

you quickly called for luke to stand with his brother so you could take a photo of the three of them. 

“you better post that on your main y/n, show the world you have the coolest future brother in-laws ever.” jack shouted as he raced luke for shotgun. 

you don’t know how you got so lucky.

+++

note: OMG it’s done. this was a bit hard to write because the whole time i was horrified it would flop or people wouldn’t like it, and i’m still horrified lols (the ending is so rushed i don't like it). anyways i hope you enjoyed, feedback is so greatly appreciated. it lets me know what i’m doing that people like and what i could be changing about my writing. just hoping this one does number like lucky did. have a great day, love y’all babes <3!!

[rinhaler]

It'll Probably End With Me Being Forgot

CHAPTER SUMMARY : you never thought you and yuuji were the type to keep secrets from each other, but he doesn't need to know megumi kissed you. maybe he already knows... why else would he be acting so weirdly?

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, consensual sex, vaginal sex, creampie, cum eating??, face sitting, praise kink, drug taking, bullying.

WORDS : 6.6k

notes : am I actually posting wusyaname on a friday?? wild

       LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Nervous for tomorrow?”

Yuuji whispers as he lies flat on his stomach with his arm over yours. Nervous is a good word, a very apt word for how you should feel.

It’s Monday tomorrow.

Your alarm will be ringing in a few hours for you.

It’ll be your first day back at university since you were spiked. It’ll be the first time you go to your class and see the girls who publicly humiliated you. And it will be the first time you are in the classroom with Megumi again since you destroyed each other’s sketch books.

Nervous would be a good way to describe what you should be feeling.

But, honestly, after this weekend and seeing how little Toji needed to do to send the fear of God into his son, you didn’t feel nervous.

Megumi is a paper man, and his father had no hesitation to piss on his parade, making him a small pathetic pile of mush. You aren’t nervous, not one bit. You're confused however, and you're wracked with guilt.

Because you've decided not to tell Yuuji about the kiss.

So much has happened, so much has changed in so little time. It wasn’t so long ago that you could barely pry Yuuji away from your soft folds as he devoured your intimate flesh. He couldn’t get enough of you.

And you were always close to being late for class.

Today, however, you wake up and he does nothing but press a gentle kiss into your shoulder and instantly goes to get shower and dress for class.

Is he losing interest in you?

It's a ridiculous thought you shake away immediately.

He’s probably just… No.

What is wrong with him?

Or maybe it’s you. Something is wrong with you.

There's no use dwelling on it now, not when class is right around the corner. It’s best if you just focus on getting dressed and talk it out with him later.

You decide to swap out your usual paint covered leggings and baggy t-shirt for a nice pair of figure-hugging jeans and a scanty crop top. If that doesn’t remind him how much he loves being intimate with you; you don’t know if anything will. You finish painting your face with light makeup as Yuuji re-enters the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Not even a glance in your direction.

It’s only been a day since you had the best, most intimate sex of your life. And now he isn’t even registering your existence. Your lip wobbles as you try and hold it together. It’s dawning on you what’s going on.

This is Megumi’s fault.

He’s got inside of your fucking head and he’s messing and warping with your sense of self and your worth.

Why did he fucking kiss you?

Yuuji knows.

He must know for him to be so distant with you. No, he doesn’t, you argue with yourself. You breathe through pouting lips and try to bat away the tears forming in your lash line.

You startle a little when you feel Yuuji’s hand cup your shoulder. You turn to face him, seeing that he's already dressed. That’s why he didn’t look at you. He was getting ready for class! He isn’t ignoring you.

Of course he doesn’t know about Megumi kissing you, how could he?

The hand on your shoulder travels upwards to cup your face. His lips find yours and every insecurity you’ve ever felt in your life dissipates. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours, the tips of your noses touching gently together.

He's searching your eyes.

“You look amazing princess,” he states. Your eyes shut softly and a tear finally breaks free and rolls down your cheek. He quickly swipes it away with his thumb, he even warns you that you’ll ruin your makeup if you don’t cut it out. “you don’t have to do this today y’know? A lot happened to you, take another day… hell take another week if you need to.” he assures you.

God he’s so fucking sweet you think you might get tooth decay if he says anything else to you. He kisses your lips again, and then your forehead before crouching down and resting on the balls of his feet. He holds your hands, delicately rubbing his thumbs over your soft skin as he waits for you to speak.

“I want to,” you tell him honestly, “but I think the longer I leave it the harder it’ll be.” you confess. He nods. He brings your hands to his lips and kisses softly.

“Let’s get you to class then. I wanna show off my pretty girl.”

His fingers interlace with yours. It’s weird that you aren’t running through the halls together. You’re early, only by a few minutes, but still. You’re strolling through the building with not a single care in the world.

You lean back against the wall outside of your classroom, the usual spot where you’ve lost count of how many times he’s kissed you too intimately for public viewing. This time, he does kiss you, but it’s soft and gentle.

He has so much fear in his eyes. He’s terrified about leaving you here. With those vile fucking girls and that piece of shit he thought was his friend. You smile, though.

It’ll all be okay.

Yuuji scowls as he hears giggling. Your blood runs cold. The girls snicker as they see you and walk into the classroom. He wishes he could get them expelled or something. Anything to keep them away from you.

He notices the time on his watch, it’s creeping dangerously close to 9am. Regardless of how early you got here, Yuuji is still going to be rushing to his class. He engulfs you in a hug and you smile warmly.

“Text me if you need anything. Okay baby? Anything.”

You start to speak but you both notice a familiar silhouette out of the corner of your eyes. Megumi. You knew you’d see him again sooner or later, but his presence is all consuming and downright miserable.

Yuuji frowns, but nothing more. He knows Fushiguro isn’t so imbecilic to try anything in front of him. You hold Yuuji’s face and turn him to face you. His loving brown eyes stare into yours. Every crease and every pore of your beautiful face. He can tell from one minor change if you’re okay. So he’s examining hard.

“I’ll text you Yuuji, promise.”

He kisses you one last time and stands in the doorway as he watches you find somewhere to sit.

Megumi and the girls are sitting near the back, so he smiles when he sees you take a seat in the front row closest to the door. You smile back when you see him mouth ‘I love you’ to you. You do the same, and finally he runs down the hallway to his own class.

It's a pretty painless class all in all, you were definitely expecting worse. You hear the girls talking in an insanely high pitch as they attempt to flirt with Megumi.

But of course, he's his usual stoic self. You do your best to avoid turning to look at them. However, when you hear them snicker and say things like ‘she pissed herself in the club’ you want a hole to form under your seat and suck you into nothingness. Your eyes bulge when you hear something you hadn’t expected.

“Shut. Up.” Megumi speaks in annoyance. You know he isn’t defending you, he hates you after all. But it still makes you smile to hear the girls try and defend themselves.

“I thought you hated her Megumi!” the redhead whines.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

Regardless of your three bullies making unnecessary comments in the back, there are three students around you that offer their support, telling you that they heard what happened and that they hope you’re okay.

It's nice knowing that you had other people around you and not just your boyfriend. Your classmates didn’t know the full extent to your ordeal, of course, but it was still appreciated.

You're surprised when you see Megumi begin to pack away early. Apparently, he has a dentist appointment. He ignores you as he walks by. He gives you nothing but the gust of wind that breezes by from his stride.

While everyone is getting on with their work for the last thirty minutes of class, your teacher approaches you to discuss your sketchbook.

If nothing else, you know the trauma of being spiked in the club would provide a perfect sob story to get you more time on your work.

You still hadn’t pinned the blame Megumi for ruining your sketchbook. What would be the point? He’d only retaliate that you did the same to his.

You took full responsibility for the ink incident, but with the help of your drugging ordeal, he offers you a hefty extension on your work, thank God. He spends the remainder of his lesson talking with you and giving you tips on how to create a new body of artwork.

“Megumi actually started again from scratch, for some reason, and he’s managed to get a lot done in a short period of time.” he tells you.

You nod along as if you don’t have a clue as to why Megumi would start again. You actually do feel a little bad that you ruined all of his hard work.

You were just as bad as him in that aspect.

He clearly puts a lot of time and effort into his drawings, but you ruined them all in an instant. But you only feel a little bad, since he did exactly the same to you.

But is it fair to be so petty?

“Perhaps you could ask him for some advice.” your lecturer suggests.

Your lips pull into a straight line. You have to think of something civil to say that won’t expose your burning hatred of the black-haired menace.

“I’ll think about it.”

Logically, you know that nothing bad will happen to you; but you begin packing away early so you can immediately sprint out of the room.

Without Megumi holding the girls back, you're worried that they might try and do something to you. You stick to your word and leave the room as quickly as your legs will take you.

Yuuji will be finishing his classes soon, too. You consider going to the sports hall to meet him, but you know he’ll be showering again and changing before coming to meet you. You head towards the exit, deciding it's smarter to wait by his car instead.

As you're rushing, you collide with another student. Thankfully neither of you drop anything like a classic cliché, however it is a cliché that the student you ram into happens to be Megumi.

Isn’t he meant to be at the dentist?

Before you can get away, he covers your mouth with his palm and pulls you into the boys toilets. He locks you both in a cubicle and he remains straight faced as you began to cry.

“Shut up, stop screaming, I’m not gonna do anything.” he tells you. Your chest is heaving, but you nod. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to tell with him. He uncovers your mouth. Your eyes squint as you examined his nose.

He looks like he wants to kill you when you began to smirk.

“Too much sugar on your donuts, Megumi.” you speak as you wiped a finger over your own nose. His eyes bulge as he understands what you mean in an instant, quickly swiping the back of his sleeve over his nose to clear away the coke he’d snorted. “What do you want from me?” you wonder.

“Yuuji seemed unusually calm when he saw me today.” he begins. You raise your eyebrows, prompting him to continue. “I can only assume that you didn’t tell him that we kissed.”

Your heart stops as he speaks. You raise a finger to your lips and repeatedly tell him to be quiet. Anyone could be in here listening to you talk. “First of all, you kissed. I slapped you away.” you whisper-shout. “I should tell him, really, I have no reason to protect you. Especially after this.” you threaten, he does nothing but roll his eyes at your idle threat.

“Unless you liked it,” you want to argue his point, but he interjects immediately. “I was high so don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re high now, do I need to worry? Have you got more misery in store for me? Or are you going to do as your daddy tells you and leave me the fuck alone?” you question.

He leans back against the wall on the cubicle you’re squashed in together and he observes you. He thinks it must be nice to have as much power as you do, knowing your enemies weak spot.

His will always be Toji.

“I’m actually done with you,” he explains. You’re sceptical, it seems too good to be true. “I found out something very exciting at your parents house. Do you want to know?”

“I don’t care, honestly.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you anyway. It’s more fun for me that way, but just know you’re fucked… and it has nothing to do with me.” he explains as he opens the door. You push him backwards so that you can leave first. You look at him in the mirrors above the sinks before walking out.

“Goodbye, Megumi.”

You’re loitering around parking lot waiting for Yuuji. You recognise a car that pulls up, and you smile when you see a familiar face.

It’s Toji.

He beams when he sees you. You walk over to him and give him those polite rich people kisses on each cheek. You smile again when you notice another person step out of the car.

This car isn’t Toji’s; it’s hers. She introduces herself as Tsumiki, Megumi’s sister.

“Nice to meet you.” you tell her.

“Did the brat give you any trouble? We came to pick him up, wanted to keep an eye on him.”

You lie, shaking your head. You’re sure he’ll manage to shake the information out of his son if he really wants to. He examines the space around him, waiting to see when his son will turn up. You can tell he’s apprehensive. He’s never been a hands-on father before. It’s all new territory for him.

He notices you examining Tsumiki. He knows exactly what you want to ask, but you're too scared. You don’t want to sound offensive or rude.

“She’s not mine princess, my ex-wife’s kid.” Toji fills you in.

“Dad she didn’t ask,” Tsumiki huffs. “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t apologise for me she wanted to know; look you can tell by her face. Right?” he gestures you, he's looking at you over his sunglasses with raised eyebrows, so you nod.

It isn’t lost on you that she doesn’t have the same jet-black hair as the Fushiguro’s. But genetics works like that sometimes, however in this instance your instincts are correct.

Eventually Toji’s spawn arrives; looking meek and submissive under his father’s intense glare. Toji questions why he looks so guilty, but Megumi doesn’t say a word.

Tsumiki is clueless. She knows about a girl who got spiked after the police came to question Megumi, but she has no idea that girl is standing before her very eyes, and it was his fault after all.

Toji has no intention of telling her.

“You’re really sticking around then, huh Toji?” you ask with a cheeky smirk on your face. Megumi scowls, he was furious that you were daring to have banter with his fucking dad. He still hates you, but he knows he needs to be smart around you now. Only because his prick of a father is staying for the time being.

“Yeah, I am.” he replies. “Maybe I’m expected to be a decent father and learn from my mistakes, yeah?”

There's something about Toji that makes you feel safe. He's like your guardian angel. You feel untouchable with him nearby. And Megumi fucking hates that.

Those few hours you spent with him in your father’s study are the closest you’ve felt to having a real parental figure in your whole life.

The family all move to get into Tsumiki’s car. But before they can leave, they're all drawn to the yelling, sprinting, pink-haired boy approaching you. He wraps his arms around your neck and smothers your lips in passionate kisses.

“Hello to you too, Yuuji.” you giggle.

“We need to go home, I need you home, now.” he explains. Tsumiki coos over the cute display. Toji snickers, while Megumi is seething. Yuuji says quick hello's to Toji and Tsumiki while point-blank ignoring his ex-best friend.

“Someone’s keen,” Toji chuckles, “Wrap it up kid. Don’t wanna end up with one of him, do ya?” Toji speaks gesturing his thumb to the side, pointing directly at Megumi.

Your face flushes with heat, at that.

He’s so forward and he doesn’t care. Tsumiki smacks his arm lightly as she gets inside of her vehicle and starts it up. You and your boyfriend step closer to your own car, but before you can leave Megumi moves towards you.

“So fucking cute.” Megumi starts. “Such a shame that you're keeping secrets, right?” he torments. Yuuji continues walking to the car door so he can take you home.

“No one is listening to you Fushiguro.” Yuuji tells him as he snaps open the door. He's about to duck inside, but Megumi has one last thing to say.

You're panicking. Is he really going to tell him?

Is he really about to spill, right fucking now, that you shared a kiss?

“Get in the fucking car ya little bastard.” Toji hisses as he grabs under his sons arm and tries to pull him away. Megumi snatches it back and gets closer to you. But he keeps his body positioned so that it's facing Itadori.

“I walked past the sports hall earlier, Yuuji, very interesting presentation I saw through the window.” Megumi smiles evilly. Yuuji slammed the door and gets closer to your bully.

“Shut the hell up,”

“Agreed, shut your fucking mouth.” Toji speaks as he slaps Megumi upside the head. “You deaf kid? I said: get in the fucking car.” he finishes, finally dragging his son around and shoving him into the backseat. “Can’t fucking help yourself, can you? Stop interfering in that girl’s life.” you hear him in the distance before slamming the door and sealing Megumi inside.

Whatever doubts you had about Yuuji this morning are quickly dashed. He buries them in a coffin and forces the nails in as he practically rips your clothes off your body.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

His gentle fingers caress each and every inch of your body while his lips do the same with soft, peppered kisses.

The days of him thinking you're made of glass seem like a distant memory as he fucks you. The slow, deep, lazy sex you had at your parent’s house is long forgotten.

He's like an animal, really giving it his all as he fucks you from behind. You're screaming and crying into the pillows. He doesn’t fail to tell you how much he loves you, either.

But you already knew that.

You convulse around him, and he empties himself inside of you. It's deep and creamy, and he's enamoured by the equally thick and creamy ring forming around the base of his cock as he kept drilling into you.

And it doesn’t end there.

He doesn’t care that your cunt is stuffed full of his seed. Yuuji pulls you around like a ragdoll as he lies flat against the bed.

His face is your throne.

And you're royalty in his eyes.

“Please princess, please. Need you to sit f’me, okay?” he looks up at you with pleading eyes. Something Yuuji Itadori has never been shy about since the day you met him is his love for eating pussy. In these few months you’ve been dating, you’ve never been let to forget that.

He praises what tasty slick you have, the best he’s ever consumed. So, to have you deny him of his fountain of youth, from his taste of heaven, has been unbearable.

“Need it s’bad baby. Please. Pleaaaase let me taste you.”

Who are you to deny him?

His arms lock around your thighs. You hold one hand against the wall to stabilize yourself and your other laces through his pastel pink locks. You bite your bottom lip as he sucks at your sensitive bead.

He's so needy and desperate; you can tell he hadn’t gotten to enjoy licking at your folds for a few days. It makes you shudder when you feel him suck his cum out of your hole and spit it back in.

“Oh God…” you sigh. Your heart rate soars. You aren’t going to last much longer. But that's a good thing for Yuuji. That’s exactly what he wants. “Yuuji—!” you cry.

His palms slap onto your ass and he pulls your heat closer to his face. He really wants you to sit. He squeezes your flesh tightly, it's a signal for you to cum. He doesn’t dare pull away and risk wasting a second of consuming your flavour as you straddled his head.

You can hear him though.

He’d be saying something like ‘go ahead and cum, princess’ so you do. You hum and groan through the pleasure of his tongue laving and sucking your clit and he loves the way your legs tremble.

You climb off of him and he sits upright. He locks a hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a crashing intimate kiss. You think he might want to go for another round for a minute, but it slows. He kisses your cheek before turning you around and pulling you to lie down with him. Yuuji plays with your hair and your eyelids feel heavier.

“What was that all about, Yuuji? Not that I’m complaining.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses into the crown of your head. “Does there need to be a reason? I just love you baby.” he reminds you, kissing you again.

“I love you too.” you smile. But you can’t relax, because something is playing on your mind. It had been playing on your mind the whole car ride home, but you didn’t want to mention it. It was even in the back of your brain while he fucked you into oblivion. “What was Megumi talking about before? The sports hall presentation?” you query.

You feel Yuuji’s body tense up against you.

Maybe you should have kept it to yourself.

“What? Are we listening to Fushiguro now?” he asks, anger clear in his tone.

“No! It’s just—”

He rises to his feet, quickly pulling his clothes back on and heading towards the bedroom door to leave.

Hopefully he’ll tell you in his own time.

His stare is kinder as you approach him later. He welcomes you to join him on the sofa with open arms. So, you hop quickly towards him and sit in his lap. You nestle into his chest as he strokes your body sensually with his thumbs.

“Hey,” he whispers hoping to get your attention without startling you. Your eyes find his, those beautiful hazel hues, and you feel as safe as can be. He looks… sad. His eyes are glossy, and he kisses your forehead forcefully. “What we did today princess, I need to do that every day.” he tells you.

“What do you—?”

“Please, please don’t make me explain. I love you, you get that, right? So please, I need to be with you like that every day.” he tells you. He's literally begging you. Begging for your body every single day. That isn’t something you could promise.

What has gotten into him?

“Yuuji I just don’t—”

“Baby!” he yells. He feels you jump in his arms and pulls you closer into his body again, shushing and cooing.

He’s sorry, he is, he’s really sorry.

He doesn’t know what’s gotten over him, he never ever yells at you.

You don’t understand and he can’t explain just yet.

“You know I’d never make you do anything you don’t wanna, right baby? Just this one thing, I need you to do this for me.” he tells you. His two hands hold your whole face and he looks at you with those pleading eyes. You don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t refuse him when he’s looking at you like that.

“Okay.”

You do as he asks, every single day.

It’s only Friday, but you wonder how much longer this is going to go on before he gives you the explanation you're patiently waiting for.

But it didn’t come.

He had the perfect opportunity to tell you when you went out for your usual Friday lunch into town, but he chose not to. Instead telling you about his classes.

You kiss him goodbye as you head towards the art building.

Would Fushiguro be so stupid as to think he’s still entitled to share your cubicle space with you?

Yes.

He doesn’t look at you though, maybe he’ll leave you alone today. Although that seems painfully optimistic.

He almost ignores you as you come in and find your seat. But he can’t completely, how could he when you looked like that? You’re always so glamorous and well put together, usually. But today, you’re in sweats with no makeup.

You’d be embarrassed to tell anyone the reason; but the truth is you were so fucked out from Yuuji going to town on you every single night with no reprieve.

“Not looking so high and mighty today, princess.” Megumi mutters. “In fact, you look depressed.” he adds.

“God. My fucking God. Seriously. Christ. Shut the fuck up.” you moan. Maybe the sentence was a little extreme. But with Yuuji keeping secrets and Megumi getting his digs in, you couldn't take it. “Did you... never mind—” you decided to keep schtum.

You wonder for a brief second if the reason Yuuji was so desperate to be intimate with you was because he knew about the kiss. But if he did, you’re sure Megumi would be in a hospital bed rather than in your personal space.

“No, I didn’t. Stop fucking talking about it. It didn’t mean anything so shut your fucking mouth.” Megumi hisses through gritted teeth. “Neither of us want anyone finding out, seems like one thing we agree on, so stop bringing it up.” Megumi finishes.

You nod in agreement. If anyone finds out, you'll be mortified. Although you didn’t do anything wrong – it would seem so much worse than it is since you didn’t immediately confess the truth to Yuuji. Although, he seems to have a dirty secret of his own.

“Interesting that you decided to keep it to yourself, though. Why?” Megumi contradicts himself as he presses for more information. You lean over to him, hissing back at him just as he had to you.

“Don’t you think you’ve blown into my life like a hurricane and fucked up enough?”

You sit back upright as your lecturer approaches your cubicle. He commends how well the two of you are getting along, going as far as to compliment you for taking Megumi under your wing.

You cringe with embarrassment as he mentions the fact you’d discussed him helping you build your sketchbook back up to full health. Megumi smirks at that. Your lecturer leaves you be, and your eyes weld shut as you feel Megumi turn to you with a wicked grin.

“What do you say, princess? Gonna let me help you out?”

“I’d rather die, actually.”

“That can be arranged.”

You scoff, deciding it would be best to focus on your work once again. You need all of the help you can get in restoring it to its former glory.

Your blood freezes over as you feel Megumi’s seat scrape across the floor. He has no reason to get up other than to go to the bathroom or to taunt you.

He brings all of his own equipment and he doesn’t use paint so he had no use for going to the sinks to get water to clean paintbrushes. You jolt as you feel one of his hands rest on your shoulder and the other on your thigh. He lets his head settle carefully on your other shoulder.

He's examining your sketchbook.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask him.

“You’ve done more work than I expected in such a short time, especially after your… unfortunate drinking incident.” he hums, the vibrations go through your ear and make you shudder. He smirks at that. “I think you can do better than this.”

“Okay.” you huff. “Now, tell me what you really want.” you utter, it's like he's undeserving of the effort of your breath. Complete derision drips from your tongue.

He turns his head so his mouth is level with your ear; he wants each and every word he speaks to cut deep.

“I was just wondering if Yuuji has told you about the sports hall presentation I stumbled across yet.” he whispers. The soft lilt in his tone tumbles straight into your ear canal. You want to turn and face him, but when your head moves a little you consider that his lips might find yours again.

“Why don’t you tell me Megumi?”

He tuts, and tuts, and tuts some more. “Oh… I couldn’t do that.” he expresses. “You heard my old man tell me not to interfere, right? I’m sure Mister Perfect will tell you when he’s good and ready.”

He's being sarcastic and patronising. But still, he's right. You’re sure he’ll tell you…

All in good time…

You gather your things and leave class. It actually doesn’t irritate you that Megumi is walking by your side.

He’s quite tolerable when he’s quiet.

You're a little confused when you arrive at the car park. Yuuji’s car is nowhere to be seen. Toji’s is, though. He steps out to say hello to you again.

“Somethin’ wrong sweetheart?” he wonders.

“Yuuji’s car isn’t here, I don’t—”

“Get in, I’ll take you home.” he says as he opens a door for you to hop in. You nod in agreement. But you think you better text Yuuji in case he comes back to find you.

Having Toji around is really coming in handy for you.

And maybe, just maybe, it’ll help Megumi work through his issues too.

The car ride is awkward as Megumi refuses to speak. Toji makes him sit in the back, like a little kid.

His dad doesn’t care that he's pouting, though. He's being sweet and talkative, asking you about your day and your classes. He picks up on your appearance too, but he isn’t rude about it. He simply asks if everything is okay, and you nod.

You think so, at least.

He waves goodbye through the window as you get out of the car. You're staring at your front door as Megumi gets out and sits in the front. They drive away, and you're still staring.

Why were you so nervous?

Your stomach sinks as you enter the bedroom you share with your boyfriend. He halts all movements and he looks like a deer in headlights.

He's… packing.

Why the fuck is he packing?

“You’re leaving me—?” you ask him.

“No! Baby, I didn’t want you to find out like this that’s why I came home early.” he tells you as he comes closer to you, but you back away, and it made his heart ache. You’ve never avoided his touches before, you’ve never evaded his desire to love you. “Please let me just—”

“You are. Oh my God! You’re fucking leaving me!” you cry. He's rambling about how badly you need to listen to him, to hear him out. But you can’t. “It's really something that I should have trusted Fushiguro over you.” you spit. You immediately regret saying it, but it's too late to take it back now.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Don’t dare try and take the moral fucking high ground when you’re packing your bags to run out on me.” you clap back. He runs his fingers through his hair and sits with his head in his hands on the side of the bed. “You know what?” you ask as you drop to your knees. “I’ll help you pack.” you lie, zipping up his suitcase and picking it up to throw down the stairs.

“Stop it! Put it down!” Yuuji shouts. He wraps his arms around your body so you could do nothing but wriggle and writhe against him.

“Let me go! I hate you! I fucking hate you, Yuuji!” you bawl as you do all you can to get free. Tears stream down your face as you lie to him. You just want to hurt him like he's hurting you.

But it's not just hurting him.

It's killing him to hear you say something so vile.

He knows you don’t mean it, but it's still the worst pain he’s ever felt.

He manages to pull you down onto the bed and subdue you. His eyes water as you burst into loud, unforgiving tears and cover your face. He’s gone about things in the worst possible way. He should have known it would turn out like this, but he really thought he was doing the right thing.

“Baby.” he whispers.

You uncover your face and he was hovers above you. You stop crying for a moment, and he hates how bright and shiny your face was with glittering tears.

It’s his fault.

And yet, for some reason your heart is racing. His face lowers and your hands clasp around the back of his head. Your swollen puffy lips found his in a deep, bruising kiss. You feel all of the air in your lungs escape. You couldn’t get enough of him. How could you say you hate him when you there is so much tension between you to kiss him like this?

But you remember his suitcase and push him away. You swipe the back of your hand over your lips and gather your breath.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, why did you kiss me? Stay the fuck away from me Yuuji.” you pant, your tears breaking free again.

“BABE! Please! You’re so fucking stubborn will you let me talk?” he yellS. “I’m not fucking leaving you, I promise. Not like you think, I need you to let me explain.” he states. You're receptive, but still terrified.

“Not like I think?”

He opens his arms, inviting you inside. You're hesitant, but allow it. He lets out a little chuckle and shakes his head when you ask him if he’s met another girl.

You are and will always be the only girl for him.

He pulls you both down, so you're lying on your sides with your heads on the soft pillows. Your eyes focus on his as you allow him to speak.

“The presentation Fushiguro was talking about, it was about a trip. And it’s mandatory.” he tells you.

This is the best possible outcome.

He isn’t leaving you and he hasn’t met someone else.

Did he really think you were going to go crazy over a weekend trip?

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want us both to be upset about me leaving. I just wanted to love you as much as I could and have as much sex as possible before I had to go.” he sniffles.

That’s not the type of thing you say when you’re only leaving for a weekend. Your lip wobbles and your eyes filled again.

This is killing him.

He doesn’t want to fucking go. He doesn’t.

“How long will you be gone?” you weep. His eyes close as he tries to hold back his own tears. He isn’t ignoring you, but he knows as soon as he answers it's real. “How long Yuuji.” you whimper.

He breathes. Tears leave his eyes silently, but he quickly wipes them away. “Three months.” he answers, his voice cracked and broken. You break down into tears again and he hugs you closer to him. How are you going to live without him for three whole months? “I’m so- I’m so s-sorry.” he mutters, trying to control his breaking voice.

“Where will you— How far are you g-going?”

“It’s um, a tour of Europe.”

You feel your heart tear and tear with each sentence he speaks.

You’ll be alone in the house with no one to come home to and cuddle each day and night. No one to talk about your day with or tell you about their own. You’ve had relationships end and felt less pain than this.

He's quite literally your other half. The only person who could possibly complete the puzzle of your heart and you're losing that for three months.

“Please just uh- I need you to,” he stumbles over his words. Unable to process what he was actually about to ask, to speak. “Please tell me you don’t really hate me. You don’t, do you? I love you, I love you. Please, I need you to tell me you don’t really hate me…” he speaks with minimal voice breakage.

Tears roll out of his eyes but he manages to keep strong. You, however, are a mess. How could you say something so abhorrent to the man you love, the person you loved more than anything in the world? You wrap your body around him. Crying into him heavily and kiss him all over.

“I love you Yuuji, I’m so so sorry.” you blubber. “I could never hate you. I’m sorry, Yuuji I’m so fucking sorry. I love you; I do. I really fucking love you.”

You're sick. You don’t want to eat, to go to the bathroom, to sleep. You don’t want to waste a single second of time with him.

“I have to leave on Sunday.” he speaks into your hair, almost silencing his voice. After tonight you have one day together. One day before he leaves you for three months.

“I feel like I’m dying.” you confess. He kisses your neck before speaking again.

“I know. Me too.”

© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2024 rinhaler

[skrrts]

heart art & rain (drabble)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, dating ✧ word count: 774

You surprise Hongjoong with a cake & chalk hearts to celebrate your first anniversary together.

a/n: another part of me practicing to write under 1k words. today's suggestion was "hj & anniversary fluff." hope you like it 💕

As a child, your teachers would scold you for covering your school papers with little hearts and stars, but now as an adult, you looked proudly at the perfectly shaped twelve chalk hearts you had spent the last thirty minutes drawing. Each one symbolized a month you shared with Hongjoong since the two of you started dating — a big deal for you.

He didn’t know you were about to pick him up from his private lessons. Officially, the two of you planned to meet at the park to look the local cherry blossoms together and buy some snacks on the way. You checked the time again and pulled out the box with the little cake you baked with the help of your mom. It was decorated with hearts, a ‘happy first anniversary,’ and a squirrel made of marzipan.

When you sent Mingi a photo, he teased you that it looked more like a dog, but you were confident your boyfriend would know.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your racing heart because this was a little sappy, and you couldn’t change but feel embarrassed. It didn’t help that a woman came out first, giving you a frown before she walked off to her car.

A few minutes passed, and you stood there somewhat lost with your cake before finally, the guy who stole your heart stepped out.

“Surprise,” you called, holding the cake more forward.

Hongjoong stood there, confused for a moment, but as always, it quickly changed to excitement and surprise as he walked over to you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the park?” he chuckled, his eyes looking fondly at you before paying attention to the hearts on the street and your cake.

It wasn’t a secret that cooking wasn’t something you enjoyed; spending time baking was likely proof of your love.

“You are so cute, you know! I’d love to take a photo, but you will pout at me, won’t you?” Hongjoong teased, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, because you will post it in your friend group chats, and that’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled a little.

“I just like to make them jealous; nothing wrong with bragging about how cute and amazing my significant other is.”

It was hard to resist him with that excited smile that never failed to get to you, and you carefully handed the cake to him.

“Mom helped me a little, no reason to brag there, but we went with your favorite flavors and all of that! I brought forks too; we can eat it under the cherry trees.”

Hongjoong, a born artist, carefully moved the cake in his hands, and you could feel how you got a little nervous, but after a moment he nodded.

“Let’s hope there won’t be any angry squirrels; they might be confused why I eat one of theirs. This looks quite like the one I met the other day there."

You chuckled and shook your head as you placed the cake back into the box and looked at him. “I am sure they would understand.”

Hongjoong rested his hand against your cheek. “I am sure they will. Maybe they are more jealous than scared. How many people get hearts and a cake for their first anniversary? Even more so since you are all mine, best gift ever..”

Now there was his teasing grin, and he pulled you closer.

“I loved this surprise, thank you, Y/N. In six months, it’s my turn. I promise I’ll make it something special.”

As you were about to kiss, drops of rain suddenly fell from the sky. They didn’t announce that change in the weather at all. So mean! Couldn’t it have waited just a few more hours?

You looked with disappointment as your hearts were washed away, but suddenly, an umbrella opened over your head, and Hongjoong smiled at you.

“Sounds like you finally get an excuse today to cling tightly to my arm while we go for a romantic walk — just the two of us, a little bit of rain, and cherry blossoms. We will definitely look better than all those people on the TV.”

“I love the sound of that,” you smiled and curled your arms around him, making sure your bag was tucked underneath the umbrella. Hongjoong kissed your lips for a moment before the two of you walked down the road leading to the park.

And while everyone was rushing, trying to escape the rain, the two of you took all the time in the world, in your little bubble where a little bit of rain was more enjoyable than annoying.

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!!

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[lightlycareless]

a little preview of what's coming today. one request that's been sitting on my askbox for a while 😣

posted already :)

Naoya doesn’t like admitting it, and you’ll never catch doing so either—certainly not when it comes to you, the only person he’s ever tried his hardest to appear as confident, seemingly untouchable, above all problems regardless of their nature: a reliable man you could always lean on.

But the truth is, he still gets nervous. Very nervous, indeed. To the point you’d think he was about to attempt a life-or-death type of endeavor, not a silly thing! (it’s not silly, Naoya just says that in order to feel better)

“Do you want to watch a movie…” it’s how it started—at that point, Naoya wasn’t that flustered. Sure, he was excited to spend time with you, as much as any loving boyfriend would! If it were him, the two would be together, every day, every hour, everywhere!

“…in my dorm?”

It’s only when you say these words that he effectively becomes an utter mess, unable to do anything else besides allow heat to form on his cheeks, throat tightening as he squeaks a quick:

“Yes!”

Before going back to his class, to torment himself with what just transpired, and what wonderful things it actually represented.

Still early in the relationship, this would be the first time you and Naoya… saw each other in a more private setting.

Far from seeing each other at cafeteria to eat lunch together, training when the other’s usual partner wasn’t available, going on missions whenever teachers sought it necessary, studying if you didn’t get something from a class he already had (he’s a year older—before your being your boyfriend, Naoya was actually your senpai.), amongst other things.

In other words, his mind saw it was step forward in what he considered the rest of his life with you, and such statement brought him so much happiness, he literally couldn’t do anything else but spend his time imagining just what you had in store for him; undoubtedly something good, he quickly assumes.

Naoya prided himself for being quite reserved when it comes to personal matters, but such was his excitement this time around, that he was unable to hide it from his prying friends, the same ones that were always eager to tease him simply because he made it too easy, often entertained by his outlandish reactions…

Or amusing discoveries.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Naoya?” One of his friends, Kiyotaka (probably someone he could replace with someone infinitely better, as you’ve once hinted.) says once taking a seat before him.

“What are you even talking about.” Naoya responds defensively, like he always did.

“Tsk, come on… you don’t really believe we’re going to fall for that, are we?” Another friend of Naoya’s, arguably of the same nature as Kiyotaka, Hideki, adds with a teasing tone.

“I don’t need to believe anything, you can do whatever you want.” He hisses, still avoiding the subject, if he wanted to push them away, he fails miserably.

Unfortunately, they knew it would only take a few more shoves to get Naoya talking.

And when it finally happened, oh, was he regretful he ever said anything.

“I’m going on a date with Y/N.” Is the sentence that pushes them over the edge, a smirk plastered on their faces as they seem to catch on to your “ulterior motives” way before him.

“Really? Where are you two going?” Kiyotaka asks.

“What do you care?” Naoya frowns, but they knew well to take his intimidation with a grain of salt. “…We’re watching a movie.”

“Oh, you’re going to the city?” Hideki wonders.

“No, not really—we’re staying in, at her dorm.”

With that, their theories were effectively confirmed.

“Oooooh, her dorm.” Kiyotaka teases. “Is that so?”

“What? What about it?” Naoya scowls, he never liked bringing you into his conversations with his friends for this precise reason—they always seemed to have something to say about you, or his relationship. And like the ever jealous, overprotective man he was, he simply couldn’t allow that!

But as experienced as he proclaimed to be, there were still things he had to learn, such as the obvious intentions behind your suggestion. So they were trying to hint.

“Come on, you can’t be that blind.” The other insists, Naoya’s frown (as well as intrigue) deepens.

“It’s so clear why she’s inviting you to see a movie in her dorm—” Kiyotaka continues.

“If it’s so obvious, then spit it out!” Naoya demands.

“She was to make out, of course! No, actually, I think she wants to do something more.” Hideki proclaims.

“Oh, most definitely! You guys have been dating for what, a few weeks? I’d say it’s long overdue!”

At the prospect, heat spreads across Naoya’s face, heart quickening as he carefully considers their words… before annoyance and jealousy overrules him once more, quick to demean them back, especially after they continue mocking him.

“Not that our virgin friend would know, too busy jacking off to anime girls— probably hasn’t even gotten his first kiss!”

“At least I have a girlfriend, losers!” Is what Naoya scowls before storming out the classroom and into the hallways, just before he did anything that he’d come to regret; their hyena-like laughs disappearing in the distance.

But nonetheless, their work was done, for their words would remain in Naoya’s mind for the rest of the day, those that were of any use of course.

Because jokes often harbored truth behind them.

hhehahehehehhahw

[footygirl114]

Capitana (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

It’s me, hi, I‘m the problem! I have been so freaking busy that I haven't had time to do anything, but today I got reminded of this prompt and it stuck with me and I had to get it out. I can definitely add more to this story, but I wanted to post something for y’all, so we can consider this a part 1. If you are a below deck lover then I hope I have done it justice!!

As you were standing on the stern of your boat waiting with your crew you were dreading the upcoming charter. You had seen the preference sheets and you knew that you were waiting on a group of 8 footballers, the last batch of footballers you had were awful and demanding so you were dreading. 

You had worked your way up in the yachting industry starting as a deckhand. You have been fighting your way up the male dominated career ladder getting passed over for jobs when you were the better candidate, until 3 years ago you were able to finally take the leap and become captain on a super yacht based in the Mediterranean. You got to where you were because you weren’t afraid to do things your way and your current owner knew that and loved it. 

The charters you have been the captain for have been nothing but successful. You had curated a reputation of being cold but amazing with guests, which has meant that your crew was like a well oiled machine. Normally you were excited about picking up new guests, you loved to meet a variety of people but you mostly loved the look on their face when they had the time of their life all because of a female captain. 

That reaction was either in awe at a female captain or in complete disbelief that a female captain was able to provide this kind of service. The second reaction was your favourite, which is why taking a group of footballers on a 5 day trip to Ibiza did not excite you. They would not be in disbelief but it was more likely that they picked your boat because they knew you provided private excellent service. 

You lived and breathed boating, it didn’t mean you weren’t into sports but being Canadian you were a hockey fan more than football. You knew of female footballers so you recognised the names coming on the boat, but you didn’t know what to expect. 

When you were waiting with the crew to board you could hear your Chief stew and the chef talking about how good of players they were. You listened in and knew that you had some of the top players in the world coming on your boat, that excited you.

Before you had any time to think about it some more you could see the group walk across the gang way on to your boat. You were immediately met with a group of very good looking, fit players. You immediately jumped into your role and allowed them to introduce themselves to you and your crew. Once that was done you started the introduction. 

“Good afternoon! Welcome aboard Serendipity, I am your Captain for your journey and I am excited to have you on board! This is Kate and she’s the chief stew and she will take you on a tour of the boat” you finish your introductions and allow Kate to jump in. 

While she’s talking you can’t help but notice the last player that walked on the boat, she had introduced her self as Alexia. You were intrigued by her expressive eyes and quiet demeanour. You could tell within the first 5 minutes that she had a quiet leadership about her, and that the rest of the players respected her. 

When they started their tour of the boat and she met your eyes you knew you were in trouble, it felt like she could see into your soul with one lock of eyes. Before you could break eye contact she shot you a wink flustering you to the point you almost stumbled over your bosun as you turned to get away. Feeling your cheeks redden you mumbled an apology and then said to the crew “Were off the dock in 15!” as you strode away to captains nest. 

You got the boat off the dock, and then spent the next few hours remaining up in the bridge doing work, not hiding out. When you finally emerged it was before sunset and you had just docked the boat for the night off the coast of Ibiza. You headed toward the swim platform where your crew was getting it set up as the guests wanted to swim before they got ready for dinner. 

You knew the guests were enjoying sunbathing while you were driving the boat, but didn’t think twice about coming to make sure they were okay. You forgot that they would all be in bikinis and being professional athletes they were all ripped. Normally you could ignore this with your guests as you were a professional and able to compartmentalise. Yet seeing Alexia in a bikini you short circuited, almost like you were back in high school seeing the girl who made you realise you were into girls in her bikini. 

Feeling the heat on your cheeks you blushed watching her dive off the back of the boat into the water. Luckily you got pulled away and had to help one of your crew with something before you could do something stupid, like jump in after her. Once you were done with them in the locker, you emerged back on the swim platform as she was getting out of the water climbing on the ladder, with water dripping down. It was like one of those scenes from a movie. 

She noticed you and smiled and stopped in front of you with a “hola Captain.” You could feel her eyes running up and down your uniform.

“hi” you muttered out feeling your cheeks burn at her appraisal and you turned grabbing her a towel handing it to her. 

She took it with a smile and a “gracias” as she used it to wrap her around her self. 

Once her abs were covered up you felt more confident in holding a conversation and you ask her “how was the water?” 

“Perfect, I am jealous of you being on the water all the time” she says with a smile as she moves beside you so you can both look out over the water. 

You smile and tell her “well I grew up in Canada and spent most of my time on frozen lakes, so this is paradise.” 

She laughs and you immediately know you want to hear that sound again, she then says “I can understand why you want to work on the med then” 

“Oh you can?” you ask her with a raised eyebrow.

She turns towards you and says “I can, its beautiful out here” she waves her arms around but her eyes remain locked on you and you can feel the flush on your cheeks again. 

You are saved by your radio going off, and one of your crew needing you. “Sorry, I gotta go” you tell her with a smile and a shrug of your shoulder. 

She smiles and says “of course captain, duty calls.” 

You smile and send her a wink as you turn and head up the steps towards where you were called. As you are walking all you can think about is her smile and laugh and you know that you are going to enjoy this trip more than you thought. 

**

Later that night, you had thought most of the guests had gone to bed as it was quiet and after midnight, you were still up reading under the moonlight. You had changed into sweatpants and a hoodie, so you take the chance to sneak to the kitchen to get a mug of tea before you go to sleep. 

You make it to the kitchen and make your tea without being seen. You are heading back up the stairs towards your cabin when you hear above you on the steps “Hola.” you look up and meet the eyes of Alexia, who is in her pjs. 

You step up to the step below her and pause looking up at her asking “what are you doing up?” 

She smile down at you and puts her hands on your upper arms pulling you up to be on the same  step as her as she says “I was coming to see you Y/N” 

Smiling you ask her “yeah?” and you turn and place you tea on the table beside you. 

Placing her hands on your hips she pulls you into her and whispers “yeah” before she closes the distance and presses her lips to yours. You wrap your hands around her neck and deepen the kiss. You get lost in her for a few minutes before you hear a radio a floor below you. 

You break the kiss and look at her and tell her “I’ve missed you Ale, will you come stay with me and sneak out in the morning?” 

She smiles and says “yes, I’ve missed you too hermosa. I hate when your on week long charters.” 

You hear movement again below you and say “Come with me” you tell her and pull her by her hand to your cabin. You get there and close the door behind her and she immediately lies on her back on your bed. You smile and tell her “I really like you in my bed Ale.” 

She opens her arms and you slide into them as she says “I’ve missed sleeping beside you hermosa” as she presses a kiss to your head. 

You smile and settle deeper into her, as she adjusts the covers around you and reaches over to turn the light off. You smile and press a kiss to her cheek and whisper “goodnight babe” 

Pressing another kiss to your head she whispers “goodnight captain.” Listening to her breathing even out you thought back to when you met.

You had met the football star 3 months ago, at a farmers market in town. You both got to talking while waiting for smoothies, one thing led to another and it was midnight and you had been on the best unexpected date of your life. It took her less than 12 hours to reach out to you and the rest is history. 

With her status, and you being involved in customer service of high end clientele, you both decided to keep it quiet until you both felt comfortable coming forward. She didn’t even know until the day before the charter that it was your boat she was one. Someone else planned the trip and she was added on last minute.

You knew the next few days would be hard trying not to show everyone you were falling deeply for the football star, while also trying to keep your hands to yourself. That was a tomorrow problem and tonight you were going to enjoy falling asleep beside her after a week of being at sea without her. 

[anakin-pilled]

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part three)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 9.4k

warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of EDs, body dysmorphia/body issues, fainting, mistreatment, hospitalization, crying, reader being emotional, anakin being a reckless driver, half proofread bc i got lazy (will probably edit another day, its late af as im posting this)

rating: 18+

author's note: hi, i'm so sorry for the delay on chapter three! life got really busy and i found myself not having enough time to write, but now life has settled and i finally had enough time and inspo to finish this chapter. i literally forced myself to stay home this weekend and finish this chapter bc i'll be traveling this week and won't have time to write. i hope i made up for it by making this chapter longer than usual!! let me know if u have any questions or comments. reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

creds to saradika for the divider!

You originally had no plans this weekend, but after much persuasion from one of your closest friends, you decided to attend some party that a friend of a friend was hosting. It was better than being locked up in your apartment all weekend, letting the thoughts of Anakin consume your mind and slowly pick away at your sanity. After all, it gave you the chance to dress up prettily, consume free hooch, and maybe find someone to get under and help you get over Anakin. 

The water in your porcelain sonic tub was doused in a fragrant Crimson Jelly Spire oil and mixed with the fragile petals of a Jasmine flower. The combination of spice and sweetness left your skin refreshed and smelling good. The midday light of Corscant filtered through the windows and cast the nearly all-ivory refresher in an ethereal lighting. The water swished around you as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid the side of your cheek on top of them. You trained your eyes on the refresher’s ceilings before blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. You ran this bath about an hour ago, but you had yet to get up because your mind was occupied by him. Staying away from Anakin was harder than you anticipated. Your mind recalled, for about the hundredth time today, two instances that happened over the last few rotations.

The first instance with Anakin left you unnerved and unconfident in your self-proclamation to stay away from him. 

The benefit concert was only a few rotations away now, so you started practicing. Even though you were only performing songs that you already performed and rehearsed before, it still didn’t hurt to practice even more. This was going to be broadcast across the Republic, so you had to be perfect. 

You holed yourself up in your practice room for the majority of the day. The only time you saw Anakin was in the morning when your protocol droid prepared breakfast. You told Anakin that you would be practicing with your team of dancers for the day, so there was no need for him to stay with you all day. You encouraged him to take the day off and reassured him that your practice suite was located in a safe building with 24/7 security watch. Anakin insisted that he at least drop you off. He could take the time to stop by the Temple and check in on Ahsoka’s training.

That was hours ago. It was nearing your twelfth hour of continuous practice and you were exhausted, to say the least. Your vocal cords felt raw from the amount of singing you did today, and the legs in your muscles were spasming from the constant repetition of your dancing. You dismissed your team members around two hours ago, you didn’t think they should be subjected to your perfectionist tendencies. One of them, a Pantoran girl named Chione, voiced her concern for you. Chione was one of your oldest dancers, she joined your team during your first mini-tour around a few Core planets and has never left your team since. You considered her one of your closest friends.

“Are you positive that you’re okay to practice on your own? You’ve barely had any food today. I don’t want you fainting with no one to help,” voiced Chione in a dulcet tone. She was always looking out for your well-being, especially because she knew how hard you could be on yourself. Chione was a source of bright life in your life and one of the most genuine people you’ve ever known.

“I’ll be fine, Chione. I had a heavy breakfast, and I’ve made sure to eat energy pudding bars and stay hydrated during our breaks,” you reassured your friend. She looked unconvinced, but you rushed her out of the room with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to send her a message once you arrived home.

Now that you had the studio to yourself, you decided to go through a few more drills and focus on the routines that you struggled with the most. You weren’t always a perfectionist. Back when you lived on Bar’leth, you were neither the smartest student in your grade nor the dumbest student–you were perfectly average. You didn’t feel the need to engage in your classmates’ cutthroat competition or push yourself more than you required. Even when it came to your musical prowess, you sang and studied instruments because you enjoyed it and it brought you happiness. If you were stuck on learning a certain composition or hitting the right note, you would always put in your best effort, but you never lost any sleep over it. You knew that if you were to put pressure on yourself, it would take the enjoyment away. Music was yours, without any strings, expectations, or attachments to soil your relationship with it.

That swiftly changed once you were signed a record deal with one of Coruscant’s most famous record labels, Interstellar Records. You didn’t even know it was possible to become famous at the intergalactic level. Most of the artists you listened to on Bar’leth were artists from your planet. The galaxy’s population is enormous–Coruscant alone has around three trillion people! You never imagined that your name would known anywhere besides Bar’leth. Yet, luck seemed to be on your side on that one fateful day.

The story of how you were discovered is quite simple. Your school hosted an annual festival for the anniversary of the formation of Bar’leth’s government. It’s a joyous holiday where students are encouraged to promote Bar’leth’s culture through food, traditional customs, and performances. Families and regular citizens flock to the school to join and watch the students at the festival. It’s a day you look forward to every year. Each class section is assigned to a particular event. The graduating class of that year is always assigned to open the festival with a choir rendition of Bar’leth’s national anthem. You were asked to lead the choir since the music instructor knew of your talent, which meant that you would be the main singer. Little did you know that one of the executives from Interstellar Records was at the school festival. One of his nephews attended your school, so that was his reason for being there. As soon as you got off the stage and the festivities started, you were immediately pulled to the side by your school’s headmaster who introduced you to the executive. He spoke to you about your talent, and how he believed that you could make something of yourself with proper training and a recording label to manage you.

That was five years ago, and a lot has changed since then. After finishing your last year of government-mandated education, you moved to Coruscant and began your career as a professional artist. Life suddenly flipped. Your upbringing on Bar’leth was humble. You came from a decent, middle-class family and lived in a standard home. Suddenly, you lived in a fancy Coruscant apartment with the former senator Sheev Palpatine, and you were always surrounded by a team of managers who dictated your schedule from morning to night. You were given vocal training, attended dance classes, and sat through etiquette and media training courses all while trying to produce your debut record. The first year of your career was marked by sleepless nights due to the sheer amount of activities on your daily agenda. Many times throughout the first year, you debated if this was a smart decision.

You continuously pushed yourself through it because dreams weren’t achieved by themselves. You had to work to make your dreams come true. This was just part of the process. At least that’s what you said to reason with your inner self to avoid any feelings of regret and anxiety. Yet, throughout that first year, you were also exposed to a darker side of the industry that you weren’t equipped to handle as a barely legal adult. When you signed that contract with the label, you also signed away any right to individuality and personal autonomy. 

You had a certain image to uphold as a public figure and this image was controlled entirely by your label. You were like clay that they could bend at their will–constantly being prodded and 

molded until you were nothing short of perfection. Your clothes were preselected each day, hair was only done in styles the label wanted, and pre-answered scripts were given for interviews. Worst of all, even your diet was dictated by the label. How much you ate, what you ate, and even when you ate was all at the discretion of the executives. They even went so far as to weigh you weekly to make sure you were staying on top of your weight. If you weren’t at their goal weight, they subjected you to intense periods of exercise. It was an abusive cycle that fundamentally altered your self-esteem. Slowly, you became a shell of the person you once were. You didn’t find enjoyment in your career anymore, something you were once so passionate and excited about. The harsh regime of your management extinguished that flame. All that mattered to you was if you were meeting your label’s expectations. You were consumed by the weight of their expectations. You drowned under their judgment, and each criticism was like a blaster shot straight to your heart. The executives weren’t satisfied no matter what you did. Practice hours went from a few hours of your day to half of your day. You slowly cut contact with your friends from home and lied to your family when they asked how you were doing. You couldn’t bear to tell them the truth. You were miserable.

Eventually, the constant overwork and abuse by the label became too much for your body to handle and one day you fainted in the middle of practice. The medic at the medcenter informed you that your body shut due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Due to you being one year away from being a legal adult by the Republic’s standards, the medic was forced to report this incident to the authorities. Holonet tabloids somehow got a hold of this information and leaked it on their celebrity gossip pages. This prompted an investigation from the Intergalactic Federation of Musicians, the trade guild dedicated to musicians, performers, and songwriters, who determined that your label was not properly upholding their side of the contract. The IFM fined Interstellar Records and voided your contract, which left you free and away from their abuse.

It took you a few months to recover from the whole incident. The best course of action was to move back to Bar’leth while you healed. Your career didn’t stop there, however. Right before the situation, your debut album was released. Hence, you were practicing for upcoming promotions the label scheduled you for. The release of your debut album was quiet–until your face ended up on the Holonet’s hot spot after the initial news broke. The people of Coruscant, and even some people from neighboring planets, pitied you. You never intended for anything to be this way, but the story that the tabloids ran against you worked in your favor. You, a young fresh-faced, and doe-eyed girl from a smaller Core planet, were a victim of the cruel entertainment industry. Everyone blamed the label, rightfully so, but the amount of support and influx of love from Coruscant’s citizens catapulted you into fame and stardom. The public wanted to see you win (until they didn’t). Other recording labels were knocking at your door, trying to get you to sign with their company You were hesitant, not wanting to experience the same trauma. Senator Palpatine offered his help in negotiating the contract bids as an apology for not noticing what you were going through before. After all, you were still living with him while you were still signed to Interstellar. You didn’t blame him as you hid your problems well. Regardless, it all worked out in the end as you were signed to a new label, under terms and conditions you saw fit.  Four years have passed since you signed onto Nebula Music Group. Your fame instantaneously increased after signing with them. Gido was assigned your new manager, and you were extremely thankful for him because he played a major role in ensuring you were properly treated and supported by the label. Nebula Music Group had more trust and faith in you than Interstellar, so they allowed you more authority and creative liberties in the music-making process. Because of this, you could produce authentic, critically acclaimed, popular albums. Your last album, Last Words of a Shooting Star, broke a record with the highest sales of sound slugs in history for a female artist. You did mini tours around the inner and mid-Core planets. Despite your initial hardships, life was turning out better than you envisioned. You had a second chance at your dream. You liked to consider yourself fully healed from the situation, but that was far from the truth.

Take now for example.

In moments like this, when it’s only yourself and the mirror, your mind can’t help but flashback to the horrible treatment you suffered at the hands of those people. You know that no matter how much therapy or how far removed from the situation you were, a part of you was still stuck in the past. 

Chione was right to be concerned. This wasn’t the first time you stayed behind and continued practicing on your own, often to the point of exhaustion and breaking down. She’s caught you in these moments before, where you were so focused on perfection that you failed to take care of yourself properly—staying dehydrated, skipping meals, and not sleeping just so you could devote more time to practice. You would gladly damage yourself for it. You couldn’t help it. Insecurity was embedded in your bones. You knew that as a young female in the industry, you had a short shelf life (or at least that’s what your previous label hammered into your brain). Once the industry deemed you expired, you would be nothing. Thus, you needed to be so perfect, that even past your expiration date, people would still want you.  You were nothing without desirability.

You looked at yourself with hard eyes in the mirror. Your eyes landed on the deep, heavy-set eye bags under your eyes. A scowl appeared on your face. You then moved your eyes to your arms, which never seemed skinny enough for you. A knot formed in your throat. Lastly, you laid your eyes upon your stomach. No matter how many meals you skipped, what diet fads you went on, or what food you prematurely threw away to avoid finishing, your stomach never looked the way you wanted. A sigh escaped your throat.

It was futile to worry about these things now. At a time so late in the day, nothing good would come of it. You inhaled and exhaled breathing as if you were absorbing and releasing all of your previous negative energy. Putting on a fake smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gave yourself one last look before continuing to practice.

The song you were currently dancing to belonged to the glimmick genre–a genre of music that was associated with frenzied sounds and rapid beats. As an artist, you were most comfortable with the sparkle-bop and pop genres. That was your domain, and it was the genre that made you famous. However, you wanted you wanted to experiment on your recent album to get out of your artistic comfort zone and reach a wider audience, so you included songs of different genres, with glimmick being one of them. Due to the nature of the glimmick genre, your song “Atom of the Pneuma,” required an intricate, fast-paced dance with movements that you were not familiar with. The choreography for this dance was sharp and pristine, contorting and bending your body to resemble straight, angular lines. Most of your choreography featured lighter dance moves, with flowy movement and softer forms. It was the reason you stayed later than the rest of your team–you wanted to hone on this particular routine before the benefit concert.

Your legs were bent, hands placed on top of your thighs as you caught your breath and prepared to replay the song just a few more times before calling ending the day. You got into position. The song started and filled the room with a pounding, rich techno bass that bounced off the walls. You began to move your body to the beat while your right arm was simultaneously moving it to create a pattern that extended from your body outward. Your head followed the beat as well, which left you slightly dizzy. You learned to block out any negative sensations when dancing, a practice you learned from the days when you danced on little sleep and little food. The unpleasant sensation went ignored until you spun your body around and lost your balance resulting in an unceremonious fall toward the hard wooden floor. You placed your arms to cushion your fall out of reflex, but the fall never came. A pair of large, calloused hands were placed on your waist, holding you steady. The hands gently guided you toward the floor, forcing you to sit. 

You raised your face toward the ceiling, trying to see who it was that miraculously saved you from your fall. The bright lights of the practice room invaded your eyesight and you could only make out the fuzzy outline of the person. Tiny, black dots swirled your vision as you tried to regain your composure. The feeling was overwhelming. You could feel your breath quicken as you tried to calm yourself. This wasn’t the first time you have fainted from overdoing it, but it was never any easier each time. You hated the feeling, you hated the coldness that washed over your body, you hated how your vision failed you, and you hated the dull panging inside your head. 

You shut your eyes, barely focusing on the person next to you. Your nails dug into your palm, the pain distracting you from the uncomfortable feeling and forcing you back into the present. After a few more moments, you opened your eyes again and turned your vision to the only other figure in the room. You could feel the warmth of their body next to yours–the warmth overpowering the previous coldness your body felt. 

“Anakin,” you whispered. 

“You okay there, pop star?” Anakin softly replied. “You almost took a nasty fall, you could have sprained your wrist or hurt your head. We wouldn’t want that before the big day, now would we?”

His brown curls gently caressed his face as he looked down at you. He was kneeling over you, eyes scanning over your body to make sure you were okay. You didn’t even hear him enter. How did he get inside? Access to this room was only allowed by people with logged fingerprints and/or other DNA indicators.

“Just give me a minute please.” You still felt lightheaded.

Anakin stood up and walked toward your practice bag and grabbed the container of water that was sitting next to it. He then proceeded toward you, sat next to you, and put the tip of the container to your lips. You titled your head back as you drank. After a couple of gulps, you answered Anakin’s question. 

“I apologize if I frightened you. I must have overdone it and got lightheaded because of it. I assure you that I feel better now and can continue my practice,” You tried to stand up before Anakin’s hand caught your wrist and dragged you back toward the ground. Your response was cold and robotic. That’s because you were in a different mode right now, your more “professional” mode which consisted of one thing only–to never give up until you were blue in the fact. It was ingrained in you from your past training that even if you felt like complete bantha shit, you couldn’t stop practicing just because you felt slightly off. Perfection could never be achieved if you stopped every single time you felt bad.

“Just take a moment to relax. You nearly fainted. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you continue to practice in this state,” Anakin reasoned. He pitied you because he knew the exact look of determination on your face. 

“I can’t stop. The benefit is only a few rotations from now. I have to get this routine down, or else I’ll look like a fool on stage,” you argued back. You turned, but Anakin kept a firm hold on your wrist. 

“Stop being stubborn and just take a quick break.” The seriousness in Anakin’s tone made you want to cry. His voice projected across the now silent practice room. You were already feeling bad from almost fainting and now you were being emotional too. You slipped to the ground and hung your head low as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice wavered. Putting in this state always puts you in a weird headspace. You swallowed the tight knot that formed in your throat. You didn’t want to cry in front of Anakin.

Anakin noticed the waver of your voice and how you refused to meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so harsh, but he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either. 

“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean for my voice to sound that way,” Anakin hesitated before putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. He felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know you very well yet, so he didn’t want to invade your personal space, but he recognized that you needed some comfort.

“You should leave. You don’t have to deal with me. I know the Chancellor asked you to watch over me, but this is too much. I promise I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” You don’t know why you let that small detail split to Anakin. Perhaps you just wanted someone else to know that you weren’t fully healed from your past. You tried to do your best to hide it from the rest of your team, only Chione being the most knowledgeable on the subject. 

“I’m not going to leave you. It’s late and you should be heading back to your apartment. I came to pick you up. Gido said you hadn’t arrived home yet and that I could find you here.”

You sighed at Anakin’s response. There were a few moments of silence before you began speaking again. “I’m sorry. You’re just being a decent person, and I’m here trying to push you away. I don’t mean it.” You took a deep breath, “I just get in a weird headspace whenever I’m practicing sometimes.”

Anakin didn’t want to pry, but he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind your words. 

You started speaking before your brain could even comprehend what you were saying. You were desperate to let out all of your negative feelings. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough sometimes? Like the whole world is waiting for you to trip and fall?” You glanced at Anakin with glassy eyes.

You continued to tirade. “I know my life may look glamorous, and it is. But no one ever talks about the dark side of being in the public eye, especially as a female. They treat you as if you’re some spectacle for their entertainment as if you’re not a living being with consciousness and feelings. Even those who are supposed to be there for you end up on the same side as the critics and haters.” Your chest was now heaving up and down as a result of your heightened emotion. “Even when I work my ass off to be perfect, so I can meet their standards and so they can finally shut the kriff up, they find another thing to comment on just to tear me down.”

“Yes, I understand the feeling.” And Anakin truly did understand. Anakin wanted to comfort you, he felt empathetic as he watched you cry. Do you remember how I told you how I joined the Jedi at a later age than most?” You nodded as you sniffled. “The Jedi council didn’t want to take me in at first…but Qui-Gon convinced them to take me in because he saw potential in me, potential as the Chosen one. Master Qui-Gon died before he had the chance to train me, so his Padawan, my former master, requested that he take me up as his Padawan. No Padawan had ever been trained at such a young age, but the council accepted his wish as a dying request from Qui-Gon.” Anakin still recalls that day–he was waiting outside the council’s room–in wonder at the grand pillars of the Jedi Temple. It was so grandiose and had a sense of holiness, two things he never witnessed on Tatooine.

“I had to work twice as hard as the other younglings to get up to speed. Most of them already had years of experience with the Jedi, they knew how to properly wield the force and the Jedi scriptures were ingrained into their beings by that point. Eventually, I surpassed the younglings and surpassed the expectations of the council. But even then, the council has never fully trusted me. I feel they’re always scrutinizing me, watching for my next mistake too. I’m not the most conventional Jedi, and I don’t always play by the books, but I’m a Jedi through and thorough. No matter how many times I prove that the council, or even my former master, they don’t believe in me. We’ve been fighting this war for Maker knows how long, and they still refuse to make me master, despite being the poster boy for this war.” 

“Wow, Anakin…I didn’t expect that from you.” You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself relating to Anakin, you were on completely different sides of society. How could you, a pop star, relate to a Jedi? It comforted you in a way, to know that you weren’t the only person to go through feelings of inadequacy and frustration. “How do you deal with it?”

“When I was a Padawan in training, I didn’t deal with it most healthily. I was snarky (he still is), and rebelled against my master’s teachings. I was stubborn, hoping that if I showed off my power, I could finally be appreciated by the council. I was wrong to do that, it’s how I lost my right arm.” Anakin then slipped off his glove to show you the silver mechanical prosthetic. You gasped, not expecting to learn this information. Anakin continued, “I still like to show off, but as I matured, I realized that I didn’t have to define myself by the approval of others. I know that I am capable, and I will keep working hard until the council recognizes that.” 

“You don’t deserve that. I know we only just met, but I’ve only heard remarkable things about you. The Republic wouldn’t stand a chance against the Separatists against you. I mean no offense to the other Jedi, they’re all vital to the war effort too, but we need someone who takes risks and isn’t afraid to be unorthodox. I don’t know much about the Jedi, but I know one day you’ll make a great Master.”

This heart-to-heart chat with Anakin was unexpected but welcomed. You appreciated that he was honest and open with you–someone who was practically a stranger still. He didn’t have to come all this way to pick you up nor did Anakin need to comfort you in an hour of need, but he did. However, Anakin didn’t let the conversation marinate too long, suddenly embarrassed at the information he shared with you. 

Anakin stood up from the ground and reached his hand toward you. You accepted his hand and Anakin pulled you up as well. “Are you feeling better now?”

Despite the dried tear marks on your face and the incoming headache you were about to face, you told Anakin that you did feel better. You weren’t ready to divulge your entire past with Anakin just yet, but maybe one day the two of you could become friends. Did that count as an attachment? You weren’t sure. 

“Let’s get you home, pop star.”

“Thanks, General.”

The second instance with Anakin was in an unconventional situation, but it brought a smile to your face when you recalled it. It was only the fifth day of him being assigned as your bodyguard. The incident at the practice room happened on his third day there. You wanted to speak to him more after that night, but you found yourself pulled in all directions by your management team. You supposed you should be thankful–you promised to stay away from Anakin. The only issue is that you didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.

Anakin walked into your living room after talking with Obi-Wan through his commlink. Obi-Wan was updating Anakin on his most recent diplomatic mission on a nearby planet. A heated conversation was taking place between you and Gido. 

“You’re being ridiculous! It’s not even that scary and you can’t keep on relying on others to transport you places,” Gido said as he pinched his nose with a hand, a look of frustration on his face.

“Of course I can! I’m rich. I can just hire chauffeurs!” you taunted in reply. You knew your argument wasn’t sound, but you just wanted to vex Gido at this point. Deep down, you knew your manager was right. 

“What about when you’re old and retired? Who’s going to help you then? Certainly not I. I’ll be dead!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

A glare embraced your face at Gido’s words. You scoffed before turning your body, not realizing that Anakin entered the room. He had to stop sneaking in like that. Those damn Jedi. 

Anakin looked at you two with a curious look. Having joined the conversation toward its end, Anakin did not know what you two were talking about. Heat ran up your neck and toward your face as Gido explained with a deadpan expression.

“My dear friend here does not have her Republic driving license, despite being an adult. I’ve been telling her to get her license for years, but she always manages to procrastinate. And every time I tell her, she brushes me off her shoulder.” He pointed at you with an accusing thumb.

With a high-pitched tone, you defended yourself, “I know how to drive!... Sort of. Look, I just don’t like driving. The skylanes are always chaotic and the last time I visited the Ministry of Transport, it took me hours to update my identification and the workers were extremely rude. I’m not going back there if I don’t have to!” 

“And I keep telling her, she needs to get her license. Kid, don’t be stubborn. Wouldn’t you feel more independent if you could drive around yourself?”

“Oh, stop bullshitting me, Gido. You just don’t want to drive me around because you hate the sky lanes as much as I do!” It was true. Gido groaned and mumbled every time he had to drive you places, complaining that he wouldn’t need to take you to run your errands if you had your own license. You couldn’t help it–you enjoyed dragging Gido along and you knew he secretly enjoyed spending time with you. 

Anakin had a solution to both of your problems. Driving was one of his fortes. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would disagree, but Anakin knew he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Yes, Anakin could be reckless, but there was never a landing or move he couldn’t pull off. The innate talent he had as a young boy flourished when he moved to Coruscant and began his Padawan training. Having access to much more refined and newer technology allowed Anakin to perfect the craft of piloting. 

“I can teach you how to drive. I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.” The seriousness on Anakin’s face indicated that he wasn’t joking. 

You gulped. The heating sensation returned. You began to shake your head from side to side with wide eyes. Your hands moved in front of you as if to mimic the movement of your head, waving off Anakin’s solution. 

“I don’t think that necessary,” you protested. 

“Actually, I think it’s very necessary. Only the Maker knows how long you’ll push this off. Anakin, would you mind doing this favor? I have a few meetings with the company, we need to finalize the last details for the benefit. Feel free to use her airspeeder parked outside–it’s one of the newest models,” Gido stated.

Anakin grinned. He really did miss his yellow Eta-2 Starfighter, but he would never deny the chance to operate new technology.

That’s how you found yourself outside sitting in a neatly parked J12 Twin-pod on your apartment’s landing platform. The airspeeder belonged to you, though you’d never driven it before. The airspeeder was one of the newer models on the market. The surface was wrapped with a special pink-tinted chrome wrap making the car look sleek and expensive. Gido, your chauffeur, and occasionally Chione, were the only people to ever drive it.

You looked out the window and saw Anakin approaching the passenger side of the airspeeder. “Karking hell, I’m really doing this,” you thought. You detested driving. It made your palms sweaty and shot your nervous system. To make matters worse, you would be stuck in the confined airspeeder with Anakin! So much for trying to keep your proximity from him. You were both scared and embarrassed. Here was Anakin, the most famous Jedi at the moment, teaching pathetic you how to properly drive. Surely he had much better, more important things to do–like lead a war planning meeting or something. 

The passenger door opened, and Anakin effortlessly climbed into the passenger seat and sat down. Your back stiffened, and suddenly the airspeeder seemed tighter. You shot an uneasy glance toward Anakin, who only smiled in excitement.

After the other night in the dance room where you had that conversation with Anakin, you felt less apprehensive around him. He was more human to you and less of a mysterious figure, less of a pretty face who made you nervous. You still found yourself mousy and internally reeling in his presence, but Anakin was becoming akin to a friend. You started conversing more during mealtimes, slowly getting to know each other. 

“Alright, pop star, first we’re going to start with the controls. You have to fire up the engine by flipping this red switch. After the flip is switched, check your mirrors to ensure you can view directly behind and on your sides. Be careful with your blind spots. You don’t want to get rear-ended because you forgot to check for it. Coruscant sky lanes are no joke. With an airspeeder as pretty as yours, I’d hate to see it get destroyed. ” Anakin pointed toward a red button near the right side of the console, located next to the steering gear. “You got that?” Anakin questioned with one eyebrow raised. 

Once again, Anakin felt your energy through the force. It was way calmer compared to the first day, but he could still feel your energy buzzing. Perhaps you realized that his presence was nothing to fear. 

“Go on. Turn it on,” Anakin commanded. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you heard the baritone voice command you. It reverberated several times in your head. Anakin’s voice was manly, and extremely attractive. You felt jealous that his soldiers got to hear that voice every day. 

You reached toward the switch and flipped it upward with a shaky hand. The airspeeder lit up from inside, indicating it had come to life. There wasn’t an initial turbo–this was one of the main features of this model. It was supposed to fly seamlessly through the air. You placed your hands on each side of the steering gears. Not knowing what to do next, you looked at Anakin for guidance. 

Anakin stood up to stand directly behind you. He reached out his arms and placed his hands on top of yours. He then leaned down to the side of your face and explained, “I’m going to show you how you properly place your hands on the steering gear and how to move it while you’re driving.” Anakin moved your hands toward the middle of the gear. 

“Have a tight grip on the gear. The tighter the grip, the more control you have over the speeder. The higher sky lanes get more wind traction, so it’s especially important to have control in those lanes.” You nodded to show you were following. Anakin suddenly turned the gear harshly to the left, “Don’t do what I just did. When you turn the gear harshly, you jerk the speeder. If you’re switching lanes or turning a corner, switch on your indicators so other drivers know which way you’re going.” Of course, Anakin never followed his own advice, but for your sake, he played it by the books. 

It all felt too intimate. Your head was in a rush, which probably wasn’t the best state to be in while you were about to drive. Anakin’s hands engulfed yours. The difference between his callused hands and your perfectly manicured hands drove you crazy. You could see the veins exposed on his ungloved hand. The sight of the green veins made your stomach turn warm. Much like his face, Anakin’s hand was sculpted by the Maker themself. Not even the finest marble statues could compare to the piece of art that was Anakin Skywalker. 

“...Lastly, when you’re making a turn, do not turn the gear all the way around. The speeder has a built-in function that automatically rotates it. If you turn it all the way, you’ll make a sharp turn, ruining the internal tachyon drive regulator. Do you think you can handle this? Gido told me about the last time you tried to drive.” The last time you tried to drive, it resulted in several fines and almost caused a crash–the tabloids were on your ass for weeks after that.

You completely spaced out while Anakin was speaking, too focused on your inner thoughts. Hearing the teasing tone of his voice brought you back. You hated being undermined. You would prove to Anakin, and Gido, that you can drive perfectly fine and that you have nothing to be scared of. 

“I can you assure that not only can I handle this, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly I learn,” you sassed Anakin back. You were lying. You couldn’t handle this, yet you couldn’t look like a ditz in front of Anakin. 

“Let’s start flying. Don’t be nervous. I’m right here if you need me.” 

Anakin sat back in his seat and observed you as you started maneuvering the aircraft. He directed you toward a sky lane to merge into. “I’m going to guide you to a specific path where the air traffic isn’t so busy. It should be easier for you to fly since there isn’t as much chaos.” 

You kept a strong grip on the steering gear. Coruscant Prime, Coruscant’s only sun, was shining bright. The Weather Control Network did a splendid job at keeping Coruscant’s weather optical today–it wasn’t too windy and the sky was clear. You took it as a positive sign. 

The airspeeder flew steadily through the air. Anakin was surprised. The way Gido described your driving, he assumed that he would need to take control of the speeder earlier. You weren’t doing a terrible job so far. Aside from the occasional jerk or harsh turn, you managed not to crash so far. 

Maybe Anakin thought too soon. “Watch out! Watch out to your right!,” Anakin exclaimed. You tried switching lanes, but the speeder behind you wasn’t slowing down to let you in. You narrowly avoided an accident at the last second by going back into your lane.

“Oops–I didn’t mean that,” you said with a giggle and a shrug of your shoulders. “How am I doing so far?”

“You’re not doing too bad, with some more practice, you should be able to get your license in no time. Why do you hate driving so much?”

While still focusing on the sky in front of you, you explained to Anakin, “I love Coruscant and all that it has to offer. But the sky lanes in Bar’leth are much calmer and less congested. I grew up used to that. Even after all these years of living here, I still can’t stomach the driving here. It’s horrendous! I much prefer to have someone else drive, that way the pressure won’t be on me. I know Gido’s right, I need my license, but can you blame me? We’ve already witnessed almost two accidents! How did you get so good at flying?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot since I was a little boy. I used to tinker in the garage, building and modifying parts for my own podracer. I even won the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine,” answered Anakin.

“Why did you want to become a pilot?” you wondered. Anakin seemed like like an intentional type of person–his actions, thoughts, and opinions were direct reflections of him and what he felt inside. 

Not many people outside of the Jedi temple knew Anakin’s true origins–that he was a former slave. The first ten years of his life were filtered solely through this lens, it came to impact much of his opinions on life, politics, and society. He didn’t like speaking about it and avoided the topic as much as he could. Anakin hated his life as a slave and he hated slavery with every fibre of his being. However, Anakin especially hated speaking about this past life now because every time he did, he was reminded of how he willingly chose to leave his mother on Tatooine. Anakin felt like he was the reason she died. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to save her from the Tuskens, but maybe, just maybe, if he stayed with his mother instead of leaving with Qui-Gon, Shmi Skywalker’s death could have been avoided. 

Anakin didn’t respond to your question. When you looked at him, his face was scrunched up in a deep thought. 

You were about to say something else when you saw something approaching the speeder from the corner of your eye. You quickly glanced to your left, only to spot a human male nearly hanging off the side of his airspeeder with a cam held up to his eye. You groaned out loud which caught Anakin’s attention. They came at the worst time possible. You were trying to learn how to drive for Kriff’s sake!

“The paparazzi are following! Can’t they just leave me alone” you ranted. You needed them to get off your trail, fast. You had a complex relationship with the paparazzi. You hated the way they invaded your privacy and fed the Holonet tabloids with material to gossip about. For every bad picture, outrageous rumor, and leaked news, there was a paparazzi behind it. They caused you so much pain. At the same time, the very nature of your career relied on the paparazzi to dispel news and reveal your current state of affairs through pictures. They were unofficial members of your public relations team. Every celebrity knew that they needed the paparazzi as much as they hated them. You couldn’t imagine what ridiculous headline they would come up with now.

The man got closer and closer to your speeder as he tried to record you on his cam. He was mere inches away from crashing into the side of your speeder. You started to panic and your hands lost your tight grip as you started to tremble. Even the slightest movement to the left would cause a crash, potentially sending both of your speeders tumbling below. 

“Anakin, what do I do? I don’t know what to do! They’re too close,” you yelped. Any closer and the paparazzi’s camera would touch your speeder’s window. 

“Stay calm, pop star. I got this.” Anakin’s tone was cocky. He had something up his sleeve. This wasn’t his first high-speed chase, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. Anakin switched into General mode. His hands swiftly moved across the dashboard as he pressed a multitude of buttons and flipped several switches. 

“What are you doing?!” You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, the fear slipping out of your voice a squeak. 

“Relax. I’m just taking control of the speeder. This speeder model is programmed so that in case of emergencies, the co-passager can take control of the speeder and drive it.” A panel opened on the console and an additional steering gear emerged into view. Anakin gripped the gear and turned it to the right. The speeder lurched to the right, putting more distance between you and the paparazzi. 

No longer needed to grip the gear, you turned toward Anakin and shielded yourself by facing your back toward the window. The Holo Net wouldn’t be getting anything out of you today. Those insatiable nerfhurders had no boundaries sometimes. 

“You better hold on tight. Things are about to get bumpy.” The only way to get these paparazzi off your trail was by speeding up and losing them in the endless zigzags of Coruscant. Anakin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation–the past few rotations with you have been enjoyable and peaceful, but he needed an outlet for his energy. Ever since the Clone Wars started, Anakin was constantly on the go, so his body and mind were accustomed to this. Fortunately for Anakin, flying was the best outlet for him. 

“What do you mean? Anakin, I’m begging you. Please don’t do anything crazy. I get motion sick-” Your words were cut off as the speeder accelerated. “ANAKIN!!!,” you screamed. You then quickly shut your eyes again. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene in front of you. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Anakin was driving significantly faster than what was allowed by the law. 

The speeder weaved in and out of lanes. At one point, Anakin squeezed in between two speeders before hitting the turbo boosters. The paparazzi were still hot on your trail, but at least they were no longer directly next to you. You finally opened your eyes and saw that you were nearing the retail district, CoCo Town. Suddenly, the speeder nosedived toward the ground and you tightly clung to the gear in front of you for stability. The paparazzi were still chasing you, their speeder also diving below. 

“Anakin do you have to be so reckless?!,” you shouted as Anakin laughed. 

“My apologies–it was either that or let the paparazzi stalk you. Which one did you prefer? I didn’t have time to ask while you were panicking,” he replied in a sarcastic tone. You were about to rebuttal, but Anakin continued talking. “As soon as I land this on the ground, we’re going to get out and run. Let’s try to lose them in the crowd.”

The speeder lowered onto the ground and Anakin quickly parked the vehicle on a landing platform where several other speeders were parked. The doors unlocked and you both quickly stepped out. Before you could even completely step off, Anakin grabbed you by your waist and lowered you onto the ground. He then grabbed your hand and started running in the opposite direction of the speeder. You looked behind you, only to see the paparazzi had caught up and were now looking for you. After a quick scan, one of their eyes caught yours and they looked toward each other before running in the same direction as you and Anakin.

You could barely think about the paparazzi chasing you down as your mind relished the feeling of Anakin’s hands engulfing your waist. Anakin was a statuesque man, it made sense that his hands would be the same. Your skin burned at the touch. You shook your head to wane off the thoughts and redirect your focus in front of you. 

Anakin’s back was facing you, his wide shoulders moving up and down as you ran through the crowds together. His curls bounced with each step. You apologized to each person you bumped into, slightly embarrassed to be in a situation like this. Why did this have to happen to you? Couldn’t they have picked another celebrity to torment today? You heard from the jogan fruit vine that the Holodrama actress Alexis Cov-Prim was getting out of rehab today. Wouldn’t that be a juicer headline than you learning how to drive? You already had one bad story from driving, you didn’t need another. 

Anakin made a sharp turn around and corner and dragged you into a store named “Madame Acantha’s Emporium.” You kept your head low as Anakin greeted the storekeeper. You didn’t want to risk being recognized again. As you looked around and observed the store, you noticed the store sold a variety of womenswear from dresses to accessories. Anakin scanned the store for any suspicious figures before turning towards you.

“Grab something to disguise yourself with. We can’t stay in here forever.” You started browsing through the racks of clothes, pulling out a large knitted sweater before walking over to the accessory area and picking out a pair of daytime spectacles and a vibrant magenta wig with a bob cut. Anakin couldn’t disguise himself as he was too big for the clothing sold here. That didn’t matter as long as you could disguise yourself. 

You quickly walked over to the changing rooms before switching out your outer layer for the sweater. After putting on the sweater, you grabbed the only elastic on your wrist and tied your hair so the wig could fit on. Once the wig was secured on your head, you put on the daytime spectacles and walked out of the changing rooms. You rushed towards the cashier and quickly asked her to ring up the transaction before throwing your credit chip on the counter. The employee, a humanoid woman of a species you couldn’t name, quickly rang up the transaction before handing you a receipt and bidding you a good day.

You turned towards Anakin and asked, “Does this look alright? Do I look like myself?”

Anakin stepped closer to you and grabbed the sides of your face. He slipped some of the wig’s hair through his fingers before adjusting it so it sat properly on your head. His fingers lingered for a second before he nodded. “I can’t even recognize you. Let’s go before they catch up.”

Anakin walked out of the store first and scoped the street. He looked left and right before quickly going back inside. He grabbed you and shoved the both of you behind the first rack of clothes he saw. You were about to protest when you saw the two men from earlier, the one who was recording had his camera by his side. They went up to the shopkeeper at the cashier and began to converse with the lady, most likely asking her if she had seen anyone with the same description as you. While they were distracted, you and Anakin looked at each other and secretly decided to make a run for it.

You both ran out of the store and into an alleyway nearby. You saw the paparazzi running past the alleyway as you were catching your breath. Then, you started to giggle. The whole situation was absurd. You, standing in an alleyway, with a bright wig and sunglasses–obviously a terrible disguise–and Anakin Skywalker, the most famous Jedi at the moment, dressed in all of his Jedi garb with his lightsaber attached at the hilt.

“What are you laughing at?,” Anakin asked, one of his perfectly shaped eyes arched. You must have looked crazy. 

“I’m laughing at the situation. I look like a clown,” you replied. “Let’s go, I’m hungry after all that running and chasing. Let’s get something to eat–my treat.” You then walked out of the alleyway together. Before you stepped into the public view, you turned towards Anakin, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you to save the day.” You gave Anakin a look of genuine gratefulness.  

The both of you proceeded in the direction of the shops.

“Come on, pop star. I know a great diner that my old master loves. It’s called Dex’s Diner. Have you ever been there before?” Anakin asked. 

The both of you arrived at Dex’s Diner and proceeded to order half the menu. You spent hours in the diner, the both of you enjoying each other’s company after the crazy events of the day.

You spent the same evening replaying all of the times Anakin touched you and how each touch made you feel. 

You decided it was time to get out of your head and back into the present. If you stayed in the sonic tub any longer, you wouldn’t have enough time to get ready without feeling rushed. You stood up from the sonic tub and grabbed the plush white robe sitting on the table next to it. You then put the robe on and walked toward the mirror. 

You grabbed the brush and started brushing through your hair to ensure that any tangles and knots were out. After deciding your hair was neat enough, you put the brush down and started moisturizing your body with your favorite lotion. You would let your hair air dry until you figured out how you wanted to style it. The lotion was made from the musk-rose plant and mixed with tiny hints of vanilla. When you were done moisturizing your body and applying your skincare, you walked out of the room and into the closet directly in front of the refresher.

To say your closet was huge is an understatement. When you finally earned enough credits to afford a high-rise apartment, the one thing you told your realtor was that you would not compromise on a small closet. The closet was lined with shelves and racks, each holding either your clothes or your shoes. In the middle of the closet sat an island, constructed with cream-yellow Selonian marble, that stored all of your accessories. A floor-to-ceiling mirror and lounging chaise were perched at the far corner of the room. You walked over to the shelf that held your dresses and began to sift through them. You felt the soft silks, thin taffetas, and the gorgeous gemwebs of your collection.

“Aha,” you muttered as your hand finally landed on the gown you were looking for. The gown, designed by one of the most in-demand fashion ateliers, was a floor-length, demicot silk-lined tight velvet black gown with a curved necklace. The upper half of the gown was pale pink and covered in a multitude of tiny sequins and pearl studs. One shoulder extended out into the shape of a single petal, which was also fabricated with sequins and pearls. You paired it with a pair of black gloves that extended to your mid-bicep. The dress was as much haute as it was a piece of wearable art. If there was one thing you loved about being wealthy, it was the clothes. 

You laid your evening gown on the chaise before traveling to your vanity and beginning on your makeup. Since the gown was extravagant in itself, you decided that a more subtle makeup look would complement the overall look more. You wanted people to focus on the gown and all its intricacies and craftsmanship. After glossing your lips with a matching shade of pink, you finished your makeup and moved on to your hair. You settled on a suitable hairstyle and allowed your loose face-framing layers to enhance the shape of your face. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you were ready to go. You walked out of your room and towards the living where Anakin was waiting for you. 

To be continued...

(Here is a link to the dress, which was designed by Miss Sohee. One thing I love about the SW universe is the fashion, so I wanted to include a dress that reflected that. Like, come on. Have you seen Padme’s and Satine’s outfits?)

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