#i didn't think i could get more complicated. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jetii · 22 hours

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So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.

This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!

Grateful

Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 3,132

Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy

Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”

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“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”

You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves.

"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.

"Just one, but it's a big one."

You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."

"You will."

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.

Nothing.

Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here.

The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.

What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.

Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.

Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.

As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.

Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.

You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.

You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.

And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.

The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.

You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.

"It's not there."

You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.

"Where are you?" you ask.

"Behind you."

You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."

"I am helping. By keeping you alive."

You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"

"You should really watch your language, General."

You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.

"Help you with what?"

You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand.

He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”

"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.

"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."

"You're welcome."

You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.

It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.

The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.

"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.

"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.

You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.

"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"

"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.

"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"

"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.

“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.

He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.

He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”

You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.

"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer, just shrugs.

"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.

"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"

"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"

"Complain, probably."

"Then leave."

"Not until you do."

"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."

"What does it do?"

"You don't care."

"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."

"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.

"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."

"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."

"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."

"Unique how?"

"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."

Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.

"Cross?"

"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.

"Where are you going?"

"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"

He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.

You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.

"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.

"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.

Nothing.

"Crosshair, come in."

Still nothing.

You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.

"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.

You're not prepared for what greets you.

You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.

You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.

The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.

You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.

You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.

The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.

You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.

A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.

You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."

Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.

Okay, now you're furious.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."

"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"

"Yes!"

He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."

"Where the hell were you, anyway?"

"Helping you," he says.

"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."

He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.

You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.

"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.

"You're welcome."

"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.

"It is," he says.

You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”

"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."

“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.

“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"

"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."

"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.

"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.

The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.

"Thank you," you finally whisper.

“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.

"Both."

He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.

"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.

But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.

You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."

You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.

"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.

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@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

#protective!crosshair gang rise up #i did not proofread this but 🤷‍♀️#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #500 follower celebration

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runabout-river · 3 days

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Thoughts on JJK chapter 270 (spoilers)

Before I write my thoughts down, I have to confess that they've been tainted by a post I read I after reading the chapter. I decided to write the first part of my review as I had initially wanted to but the second part will discuss the things I read afterwards.

We start the chapter with a beautiful scene of a grave belonging to Tsumiki but my first thought was... what about Tsumiki's soul that had prevented Megumi from killing a girl?

If this is what Tsumiki's end and Megumi's final reaction to that would be, why did Gege bother including her soul as an active character into the story?

I also tried to find the raws to see what exactly was written on her grave. Only her surname? And was it also in English?

After that we get to Tengen and what happened to her and it was exactly here where my thoughts of this chapter went a big 🤨😵🧐🤬🤪

So Yuji just punched her out? And nothing more happened to her? The Culling Games are over? How did that happen? And through which remains would she stay stable? There was nothing left of Sukuna, at least nothing that had gone through Kenjaku's ritual. The only place she would be stable would still be inside Megumi. Her barriers are magically stable as well.

What a... neat ending to all those plot threads...

Then we come to Maki finding her past helpers and telling them that all the reincarnated sorcerers would be separated from their hosts by Yuji soon and...

That's against established canon. We already had the discussion that the souls of the host's can't be saved because they've been pushed down to complete darkness. Choso couldn't feel the soul of his host anymore and that was how the narrative absolved him from any wrongdoing because now he didn't have to give his body back for ethical reasons and he hadn't made an unethical deal to be reincarnated either.

Only Megumi was said to have a chance of being saved and no one else.

So now I'm here and scretching my head thinking... was Gege so desperate or time constipated to end the manga that he threw that point out? Or is sth else going on here...

We get Takaba back and he has a suspicious looking partner now, with whom he can do more comedy.

Now I don't think that's the real Kenjaku there. It's more likely that Takaba simply imposed that hairstyle on his new partner because he's missing his short time best friend.

For an actual Kenjaku comeback, he wouldn't have Geto's body anymore. Imo, Kenjaku did have spare bodies lying around he could've fled to at the last second though.

We get more loose ends being tied up and for Higuruma it's clemency. This is another point in the "everything turns out perfectly good for the good guys" part we have been bombarded with in this chapter.

I'm like, Gege, isn't this too much? Wasn't JJK darker than this? Even Shoko gave up her smokes. The military plot is just "we'll deal with them" and there's no mention of JJ societal instability with the clans falling apart.

Either he really wanted to wrap every loose end up... or

Gege forgets Megumi's scar on a pretty big panel and we get an anime love complication with one chapter remaining. It was funny though.

Then we come to the end where we're set up to believe that life of the first year trio will go on as it should've been without those major Shibuya/Shinjuku complications.

Just going on missions and living life like that.

Now, one could accept that kind of ending (why isn't that in chapter 271 though?) But it comes off as so... lackluster and mended with fire after big chunks of the plot were cut off.

After I had finished the chapter, I was the most disappointed at everything that had to do with Tengen and the CG. So Gege sets up that the sorcerer life will continue afterwards. Even without wanting a Part 2, just ending the CG and Tengen's story like that is... unnecessarily boring and wasted space for nearly everything that came before that.

But then I read @thepersonperson post on how the last 3 chapters of JJK could possibly have been an induced dream sequence this whole time.

Induced by Yuji through his ability of creating fake memories right before defeat/death. His own DE is an application of this and Sukuna's strangely similar ability of talking with freshly deceased people in a dreamscape.

When Yuji had first expanded his domain, I went on such a ramble at the time about these strange abilities of them both. What I said back then was that Yuji wasnt an active/aware participant of them but by now he had acquired Sukuna's CT and again a DE.

This could mean that his induced dream sequences could've evolved enough that he became aware of them instead of only pushing them into someone else. In other words:

Yuji is dreaming of his best happy ending.

And here truly experiences that but he can't tell until now that it's a dream. He might very well be lying on the ground now about to die.

The post I linked adds more details to this theory like inconsistent character placements and "mistakes" like Megumi's scar suddenly missing, which would be commonplace in a dream.

That last picture up there with the guy who's supposed to be cursed but it was actually his girlfriend who had her perception of reality altered as well as the name of this chapter, would be the final hints about the last few chapters having been another glitch in perception.

Now only one week is left then we'll get our final answers to JJK. If this dream theory is true, then Gege will establish himself as the biggest troll, either with a JJK 2 or with a tragic ending.

(And if this really comes true, then I don't think I'll manage to escape the spoilers)

But whatever might come and even though I'm meh about the end (as it's presented to us right now) I still love JJK and immensely enjoyed reading, watching and engaging with it 😄

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #fushiguro megumi #yuji itadori #kenjaku #meta #gojo satoru

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coffeeshades · 2 days

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3

masterlist!

Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.

Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.

A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.

She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.

Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.

Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.

By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.

One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.

Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.

Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.

Until it didn’t.

That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.

But it didn’t feel enough.

Not then, not now.

•••

Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.

The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.

You picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.

“Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”

A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”

He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."

“Thank you, Pedro.”

The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.

“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”

“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”

Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.

“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."

You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.

When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.

So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.

It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.

His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.

Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.

Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.

April 11, 2021

London, England

Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.

She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.

That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.

He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.

Pedro ignored most of it.

Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.

There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.

The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.

That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.

For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.

Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.

When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.

A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.

No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

That was it.

July 10, 2021

Alberta, Canada

Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.

Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.

He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.

But, like always, there was nothing.

Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.

Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.

As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.

"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."

The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."

Pedro’s heart clenched.

"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"

You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."

Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.

Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.

•••

When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.

The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.

Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.

"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."

"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."

Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."

Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."

•••

For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.

The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.

And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.

You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.

You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.

The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.

When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.

Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"

Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.

You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.

"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.

"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."

"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."

"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."

Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.

There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.

Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.

The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.

She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?

Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."

Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."

•••

Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.

One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.

What would it change? What did it matter?

You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.

In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.

February 7, 2022

Los Angeles, California

The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.

“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”

You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.

“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”

You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”

Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”

She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."

Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.

It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.

You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”

Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”

You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”

But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.

You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.

There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.

She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.

One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.

“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.

“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.

But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.

The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.

“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”

You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.

•••

You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.

The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.

He's better off; he might not even notice.

The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.

That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.

It was a bittersweet realization.

By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.

You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.

Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.

But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”

May 29, 2022

Los Angeles, California

Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.

It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.

But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.

Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.

“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”

Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.

He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.

•••

By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.

The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.

•••

November 22, 2022

Miami, Florida

The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.

But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.

“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”

Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”

Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”

Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.

"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."

Lux didn’t say anything.

Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."

Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”

Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."

Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"

Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”

Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."

He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.

Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"

a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)

#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #my writing #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #love is complicated fic

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lee-laurent · 22 hours

Text

All Wrong - Luke Hughes

Summary: Jack needs some help from Sadie, but Sadie finds another Hughes brother much more interesting.

content: fluff, angst, fake dating, kissing, making out, teasing, dirty jokes, underage drinking

wc: 11.6k

notes: HERE IT IS! MY LONGEST FIC EVER!!!! enjoy!!

"Sadie, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me. It's just for the summer so she leaves me alone," Jack pleaded from his spot on the girl's couch.

"Just tell her you're not interested or that you have a girlfriend. This seems overboard."

"That won't stop her. Trust me."

"Then why would me being there change that?"

"You're intimidating, Sadie. You'll look at her once and she'll run home like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs."

"Jack..."

"Sadie, please! Didn't you say your parents had been on your ass about having a boyfriend? See this could benefit both of us."

"I-"

"Sadie!" Jack's tone had shifted from being teasing to almost desperate. "You don't get it! This girl... she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. Trust me... I've tried."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, settling further into the couch. "So your brilliant plan involves be pretending to be madly in love with you instead? Egotistical much."

"Shut up. If you're there, she'll see we're serious and she'll back off."

"And you don't think this is going to backfire? Or, I don't know, create a whole mess of awkwardness between us?" Sadie tilted her head, waiting for his response.

"It'll be fine. We're friends, right? We've kissed when we were drunk. We can handle a little fake dating for a few weeks. Plus, the thing with your parents... win-win?"

She sighed, feeling like she was fighting a battle she was gonna lose no matter what. She had mentioned it in passing--how her parents were always asking why she wasn't dating anyone. But this? Fake dating Jack? It sounded like the plot of a rom-com gone wrong.

"I don't know, Jack."

"Look, we'll just keep it simple. I won't make it weird, I promise. We'll hang at the lake house, do the whole 'couple' thing, and by the end of the summer, it's done. You're free. I'm free. And maybe we can get a few laughs out of it."

It sounded insane. Jack was her friend--her close friend--and she could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to say yes.

"You really think this will work?"

"Trust me. She'll be running away by the end of the first week."

With a heavy sigh, she finally nodded. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me."

"Deal! I owe you big time! But you won't regret this, Sades. It's going to be great!"

She wasn't so sure. It felt so much more complicated than Jack was letting on.

A couple weeks later, Sadie found herself standing on the driveway of the Hughes' lake house. She was standing next to Jack, picking at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. She genuinely felt like she could puke.

"Relax, Sadie," Jack grinned, holding their suitcases. "It's gonna be great."

She narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond. His grin didn't falter, and he motioned with his head for her to walk toward the house. The second her foot hit the first step, the door flew open and Ellen came out with a smile on her face. A smile scarily similar to Jack's.

"You must be Sadie! It's so nice to meet you," she said warmly, wrapping the 21-year-old in a tight hug.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's me," Sadie stammered, trying to return the hug without looking too awkward. It was one thing to pretend around Jack and whoever this scary neighbour girl was, but in front of his family was a whole other can of worms. It felt so much more real.

"We're so excited to have you here! Jack never stops talking about you."

"Doesn't he?" Sadie smirked, turning around to glance at her 'boyfriend' who was pretending he couldn't hear the conversation.

Before she could ask anymore, Ellen was leading her into the home with a hand on her back. "Come in! I'm just finishing getting dinner ready, and the rest of the family should be here soon. Quinn and Jim were picking Luke up from school, so the three of them will be here around 9."

"Moose's coming?" Jack piped up, dropping their bags on the floor. "I thought he wasn't gonna make it this year."

"Changed his mind last minute. We'll all be together," Ellen grinned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"I'm gonna show Sadie around upstairs, we'll be back down for dinner in like ten minutes."

"Sounds good. I left some fresh towels for you on Jack's bed."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No worries. You two go get settled."

Sadie followed Jack up the creaky wooden stairs, her mind still spinning from meeting Ellen. Everything about the situation felt real. Too real. Way, way too real.

"Your mom is... intense," she muttered, walking into the hallway as Jack pushed open the door to the room they'd be sharing for the summer.

"Yeah, well, that's Mom for you. She loves you already," Jack grinned, throwing himself onto the bed. He stretched out, folding his arms behind his head as if he was relaxed as ever. Like they weren't lying to his entire family.

Sadie sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed, scanning the room. It was cozy. A few posters on the walls, hockey-themed of course, and an old wooden dresser in the corner. The window overlooked the lake and Sadie thought she could fall in love with the idea of living here for the summer pretty quickly.

"So, we're sharing this bed, I take it?" she raised an eyebrow.

Jack chuckled, patting the matress next to him. "Come on, Sades. We're dating, remember? Gotta sell it."

She rolled her eyes, scooting up to sit next to Jack. "Just remember this is fake. No funny business, Hughes."

"I know, I know. Jeez. I already told you, I'm not gonna make it weird. Just for the summer. Then we're free."

She shook her head, already regretting everything. She had agreed to the plan, but now that she was there, standing in their home, sharing a bed--it all felt too close for comfort.

"Speaking of Luke. You didn't mention that your brothers were gonna be here."

"They're chill. Don't stress. Moose has been busy with shit at Umich and Quinn in Vancouver. They'll just be happy to relax. Plus, they don't usually care about talking girls and stuff. So they won't grill you. If anything, they'll give me shit for dating someone so out of my league."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Jack."

Jack snickered, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed she was on. He leaned down, his tone teasing. "Come on, Sades. Let's go down and eat dinner like a happy couple."

"You're so fucking annoying."

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. Ellen had a special way of making everything seem casual and lighthearted. Jack, of course, had been his usual... charming self, playing the role of the perfect doting boyfriend. He was good at it, touching her back lightly, pulling her chair out for her, and even dropping the occasional kiss on the top of her head.

It should've made her cringe, but instead she found it... comforting?

Ellen had asked the usual 'parent' questions--how they met, what Sadie was studying, if she liked hockey (which of course she had to answer yes to, knowing full well the consequences of not liking hockey in the Hughes household). Sadie played along, forcing herself to laugh at Jack's shit jokes and add details to the story they'd created on the drive up.

"Jack, why don't you take Sadie down to the dock and watch the sunset over the lake" Ellen suggested, clearing the table of plates. "It's beautiful tonight."

"Good idea, Mom," Jack agreed, standing up and taking Sadie's hand with a grin.

"Sure, sounds nice," Sadie forced a smile, trying not to feel awkward holding Jack's hand in front of his mother.

They walked out towards the dock, the cool air helping lift the weight of the day away. The lake stretched out before them, the water reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sunset. Sadie loved scenes like that. They brought her so much peace.

"You're doing great, by the way, Sadie."

She snorted, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I feel like I'm in some weird improv exercise. Just waiting for someone to figure out I don't belong here."

"They're not going to figure anything out," he whispered. "You've got this."

Lying to his family felt wrong, even if it was supposed to be for a good cause. Or at least a cause that Jack thought was good.

"This is going to be a very draining summer," she sighed.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"No, I need to stay up and meet your brothers and your dad."

"They'll still be here in the morning, Sades. If you want to go to sleep, nobody is gonna stop you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come on. Let's get you some sleep."

"Who's shoes are those?" Luke asked, closing the front door behind him.

"Jack's girlfriend's! You just missed her, she went to sleep about half an hour ago," Ellen smiled, pulling her youngest son into a hug.

"His girlfriend?"

"Yes! Sadie is her name. Such a nice girl. Very pretty too."

Luke looked back down at the shoes again, his mind still trying to catch up with what his mom was saying. Jack's girlfriend? The words felt so unfamiliar. Jack didn't talk about dating much, at least not in a serious way, so hearing about Sadie--a girl he apparently cared enough about to bring home--caught him so off guard.

"Yeah. Jack didn't mention much about her."

"He didn't? Oh, well, you'll meet her in the morning," she reached up to ruffle his hair, like he was still a little kid playing chase around the house with his brothers. "She's lovely. A little shy at first, but I'll sure she'll warm up to everyone. Probably just worried about making a good first impression."

Luke nodded, but inside his curiousity was growing. Shy? He hadn't heard Jack describe anyone as shy in, well, ever. Jack's type was the total opposite--bold, confident, the kind of girl that could hang with his rowdy ass friends without missing a beat. This Sadie girl was starting to sound a lot different than that.

"Well, let's get you boys fed before we all call it a night," Jim said, patting Luke's shoulder as he passed. "Your mom saved us some leftovers from dinner."

Luke followed his dad and Quinn into the kitchen, but his thoughts were still on the mysterious girl that had apparently stolen his brother's heart. Jack had never even mentioned a Sadie before and suddenly she was at the lake house. It all felt off.

Sadie woke up feeling as sweaty as ever. The house had AC but Jack was like a personal heater and somehow they'd ended up spooning at some point in the night. There was a thin layer of sweat between her back and Jack's chest and she felt disgusting.

Groaning quietly, she pulled herself out of his grip, using her shirt to wipe her back. Jack was still fast asleep, the duvet kicked around his feet. Typical. Jack could sleep through a fucking earthquake.

She swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water would make her feel more like herself. She thought about what Jack had said last night--about how nobody would figure them out. But staring at herself in the mirror, she felt like it was written all over her face.

She didn't belong here.

She threw on the first clothes she could find, a pair of jean shorts and one of Jack's many Devils t-shirts. By the time she made her way downstairs, the kitchen was already bustling. Ellen was preparing breakfast while Jim sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Sadie! Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," she forced a smile.

"Jack still asleep?"

"Out cold."

Ellen chuckled, shaking her head. "Sounds about right."

Sadie smiled, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned just as Luke appeared in the doorway, fresh from a morning run, judging the sweat on his forehead and the way his grey shirt clung to his torso.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Luke's eyes landed on her, sharp and curious. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was sizing her up--not in a rude way, but in a way that made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

"You must be Sadie," he made his way further into the kitchen. "I'm Luke."

"Yeah," she extended her hand to him. "Nice to meet you."

Luke shook her head, his grip firm but brief. His blue eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than she expected before he pulled away, glancing towards the coffeemaker.

"You're the one who got Jack all domestic?" he teased, grabbing a mug. "Didn't see that coming."

She laughed softly, "I don't know about 'domestic,' but... I guess I'm the one who convinced him to bring me here."

Luke smirked, like he wasn't entirely buying it. "Yeah. I guess."

Sadie got cut off again, but this time by Quinn entering the room. "Ah, so this is the famous Sadie! Nice to finally put a face to the name."

Thank God for Quinn.

Sadie sat on the dock, her feet dangling over the water, her book open on her lap. Jack and Quinn had gone to get the boat from the marina and Sadie had taken the opportunity to relax a bit.

She had laid a towel under her, Jack's t-shirt removed because she was not about to get a farmer's tan. She was basking in the sun, feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on her extremely pale skin. The world around her disappearing as she flipped through the novel. She was really enjoying it until she came to a parapgraph about suspicion. It took her right back to her interaction with Luke that morning. It was like he saw right through her, could sense all the cracks in her story. She had to be careful, maybe Luke was smarter than he seemed.

But footsteps on the dock behind her broke her train of thought. She glanced over her should, expecting to see that either Jack or Quinn had returned with the car from the marina, but it was Luke. He wasn't in the workout clothes he'd been wearing earlier, now dressed in a white t-shirt and board shorts, clearly ready for a swim.

"You mind if I join?" Luke asked, the same playful charm in his voice that Jack carried.

"Sure, it's your family's dock after all."

Luke smirked, dropping a towel beside her before sitting down, his legs also hanging over the water. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stared out over the water. Sadie went back to reading, well now she was pretending to read, her main focus being on how closely he was sitting next to her.

"So," he broke the silence. "How'd you and Jack meet?"

There it was--more lying about her and Jack. Sadie knew Luke was already suspicious of her, so she had to play her cards right. She looked up from her book, trying to keep her body language calm. "Friends. Some of his, uh, his friends go to school with me. So..."

"Friends, huh?" He was testing her, waiting for her to trip up.

"Yeah, like slow burn," she shrugged. "We hung out with a big group of friends first. You know how it goes."

Luke was silent for a moment, staring down at the waves lapping the dock. "Yeah, I guess, I do. Jack's never mentioned you before."

Sadie felt her stomach lurch, but she forced a smile. "Well, we kept things on the down-low for a while. Just us. It's still... kinda new."

"Makes sense," Luke's tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the lake again. "Just seems strange, I guess. Jack never brings girls here. And then... suddenly, you."

"I guess I'm just lucky," she swallowed harshly.

For a moment, she thought he might say something else--might press her further--but instead, he stood up and grabbed his towel.

"I'll leave you to it. Nice talking, Sadie," he walked off, completely disregarding the fact that he had clearly come out to swim. She just watched him retreat. It was clear he didn't trust her, hopefully Jack could fix that. She didn't need him figuring anything out before the trip was over. That was certain.

The sound of the boat engine humming across the water was the perfect background noise on a sunny afternoon. Sadie sat on the edge, occasionally letting her fingers trail through the lake below. Jack was steering them out to the centre of the water, Quinn sat up front basking in the sun, and Luke leaned casually against the small railing on the side.

"You ever driven one of these?" Luke asked, nodding towards the steering wheel.

Sadie looked over to Jack, who was too busy concentrating on his driving to respond. She smirked, "Jack never lets anyone take the wheel. He likes to be in control."

Quinn laughed, "Sounds about right. Captain Jack, over here. Watch out Sadie or he might start asking you to call him that."

"Don't give him any ideas," she groaned, flicking her gaze back to Jack. She really hoped that the banter seemed real and not forced.

"You love it, Sades! You're just mad because you can't even drive a car for shit."

"Hey! You've never given me a chance on a boat," she shot back, standing up and making her way to Jack.

"I think I have a good reason."

Sadie placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer as she laughed. It felt so strange to have to be so physically close to Jack on purpose, but she was learning to fake it well. "Maybe I'll surprise you one day."

Quinn chuckled, "Honestly, Rowdy, give her a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She crashes into the dock?" Jack raised an eyebrow, still smirking, one of his hands casually finding it's way around Sadie's bare waist. She stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed quickly after reminding herself to play the part.

"I'm more worried about you crashing into the dock," Sadie shot back.

Luke, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal, cracked a grin. "She's probably better at steering than you think, Jack. You're just a control freak."

Sadie stole a glance, glad to see Luke was no longer sending any weird looks her way.

"Alright, fine," Jack sighed, turning the wheel just slightly to change course. "Maybe I'll let you drive next time. If you're lucky."

Quinn snorted, "If she's lucky? You mean if she gives you head?"

Sadie's jaw dropped, but all three Hughes brothers started laughing like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. God, she'd never understand men.

The boat had been anchored and Sadie sat with Jack near the edge. Luke and Quinn were busy talking about who could pull off a better dive, leaving the 'couple' alone.

Sadie lowered her voice, looking around to see if the other boys were listening. "Jack, I think Luke is catching on."

"Catching on? What're you talking about?"

Sadie sighed. "Earlier today, he was asking me all these questions. It felt like he was suspicious. Like he knows this whole thing is all an act."

Jack chuckled, knocking his shoulder with hers. "Sades, he's just messing with you. Trust me, he's not suspicious of anything. That's just how he is. He's probably giving you a hard time because he knows it'll get under your skin."

She bit her lip, not fully convinced. "I don't know... I don't want him to say something to your parents or--"

"Relax," he softly grabbed her hand. "It's going fine. They all like you, and no one is doubting anything. Promise."

Sadie looked around again, but Quinn and Luke were now splashing each other in the water. "I guess you're right. I'm probably just overthinking shit."

"Exactly. Now, where's the Sadie I know? I'm not a fan of this anxious, worrywart. Where's the flirty, confident, almost scary Sadie that I became friends with?"

She just shook her head, a real smile making its way across her face. Jack leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. "Come on, Sades. Let's make the most of this. Summer is supposed to be funnnn."

"Okay," she giggled. "Let's have some fun."

She quickly stood up and cannon-balled into the lake. Luke and Quinn cheered her on, as Jack shook his head and laughed. "There's my girl!"

Sadie, Jack, Luke, and Quinn sat on deck chairs around the firepit, drinks in hand. It had been a long day spent out on the water, but the fun wasn't over just yet. The laughter was now coming even easier than before with the addition of alcohol.

Sadie leaned heavily into Jack's side, his arm draped over her shoulders, her head resting on him. She finally felt like herself, carefree. Jack's closeness didn't feel awkward anymore; it felt natural, or maybe that was just the alcohol.

"Alright, Sadie," Quinn said, his speech slurred slightly. "I gotta know what it's like dating Jack? He's gotta be a pain in the ass."

"Oh, you have no idea," she teased. "He thinks he's funny. Most of the time, he's just annoying."

Jack gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his free hand. "Wow. You wound me, Sades. I'm hilarious."

"Debatable," she quipped, running her fingers along the seam of his shirt as she settled against him more comfortably.

"Okay, but for real," Luke piped up, "how'd you two even get together? I don't think Jack has ever brought a girl here."

She glanced at Jack, who winked at her before answering.

"It just happened, I guess. We were hanging out with a group of friends, like I told you guys, and then one day... I just knew she was the one for me."

"Oh, you knew, huh? That's not how I remember it," Sadie giggled.

"What's your version, Sadie?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Jack was chasing after me for months, trying to get me to go out with him. I was playing hard to get."

Jack cackled, "That's not how it went."

"It's exactly how it went," she shot back, her voice full of confidence. "He practically begged me to go on a date with him."

Luke and Quinn were in stitches, the banter between her and Jack clearly entertaining them. Sadie felt so much more like herself. The earlier tension she felt from Luke's questions had melted away with the first sip of vodka.

Just as Sadie was about to make another joke at Jack's expense, the sound of footsteps cruncing against gravel caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see a figure making their toward them. Sadie tensed.

It had to be that neighbour girl that Jack had warned her about. The whole reason this shit was happening.

The girl strutted up to the firepit, her eyes locking on Jack like he was the only person there. She didn't even acknowledge Sadie's presence, instead giving Jack a flirtatious smile as she drew closer.

"Well, well," her tone was sugary sweet. "Didn't know you were back in town, Jack."

Sadie felt Jack also tense beside her, but he didn't move his arm from her shoulders. He smiled politely, but there was no mistaking the discomfort in his eyes. "Yes, Natalie, we're here every summer."

The girl, Natalie, flicked her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's been a while. You should come over sometime. We could... catch up."

Sadie could tell from the girl's body language that she wasn't taking no for an answer. Natalie's obvious attempt to flirt with Jack was so blatant, it was almost laughable. It would've been laughable if it wasn't so goddamn irritating.

Luke and Quinn exchanged amused glances.

Sadie straightened up, pushing her body closer to Jack's. "He's a little busy right now," Sadie's voice was low but firm.

"Oh, I'm sure Jack can make time. Can't you, Jacky?"

Sadie's blood boiled. Natalie wasn't getting the message. She glanced at Jack, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, then made a quick decision. Without hesitation, Sadie reached up, grabbed Jack's face in both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. Not a soft, delicate one, but a full-on, heated make out session that left no room for misinterpretation. She was making sure that everyone knew who Jack belonged to.

Jack responded immediately, his hands moving to rest on her waist as he kicked her back, clearly caught up in the moment. It was all part of the act, but Sadie could feel the passion in it, the alcohol blurring the line between fake and real.

When she pulled away, breathless and bright red, she didn't even look at Jack. She instead kept her gaze locked on Natalie, who was staring at them in stunned silence.

"Like I said," Sadie's voice was full of cool confidence, "he's busy."

Natalie's face twisted into a scowl, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She shot Jack and Sadie one last frustrated look before scoffing and turning on her heel, storming off into the night like a child throwing a tantrum.

Quinn let out a low whistle. "Damn, Sadie. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"That was brutal," Luke agreed.

She shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "She wasn't getting it. Had to make it clear."

Jack, still recovering from the intensity of the kiss, grinned down at her. "You sure did."

The room spun slightly as Sadie fumbled with the zipper on her shorts, still giggling about how the night had unfolded. Jack leaned against the door, watching her with a lazy grin, the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

"That kiss though," Jack teased, his voice slurred as he kicked off his shoes. "You really sold it, Sades. I think you scared Natalie away for life."

"Good," she smirked, peeling off her shorts and tossing them aside, not bothering with modesty. She started tugging her t-shirt over her head. "She wasn't getting the hint. Had to go for the kill."

Jack's eyes flickered to her as she changed, the casualness of it all catching him off guard. He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as he tried not to stare. Sadie, half-naked, standing there like it was nothing--it was making his head spin even more than it already was.

He blinked, knowing he shouldn't have been distracted like that, especially when they were just playing pretend. But Sadie didn't seem to notice nor care. She was sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair, her laughter replaced by a serious expression.

"Jack. I was actually really nervous... earlier. With meeting your parents, then Luke asking all those questions, and then fucking Natalie showed up."

Jack shook off his drunken haze. He sat down beside her, trying to focus on her words and the fact that her skin was glowing under the light in the room. "Nervous? You seemed to have it under control out there."

"I was faking. Well, partly. Thought maybe Luke's questions about us were to find holes or that Quinn was part of his plan."

"Sades, I'm not sure how many times I have to tell you. Nobody is suspicious."

"I just didn't want to mess this up for you. The whole fake dating thing--it's for you, and I didn't want to fuck it all up by being... weird."

"You weren't weird. You were amazing. And that kiss? I think you might have convinced me we're really dating."

"So... no one's doubting?"

Jack shook his head, his hand brushing gently against her back. "Nope. That kiss probably wiped away any doubts that Quinn or Luke might've had. You sold it. Hell, I think Luke might've been jealous."

She smirked at the thought, "Yeah? Jealous, huh?"

Jack grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "Definitely. You've got nothing to worry about now. We've got this."

There was a quiet moment between them. The alcohol buzz still hanging in the air, but it was softer now, replaced by something warmer, more intimate. Jack's hand slid up to her shoulder, his touch gentle as he pulled her closer.

"I'm really glad you're here."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "Me too."

They lay back on the bed, neither bothering to change further. Jack's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side as she snuggled against him. The steady rise and fall of Jack's chest beneath her cheek, lulling her to sleep.

Jack and Quinn were gone for the day, some sort of offseason training session by some bigshot NHL personal trainer. The guy hadn't invited Luke, so he was stuck at the house with Sadie and his parents.

Sadie was stretched out on a towel in the backyard, basking in the sunshine, her earbuds playing some soft country music. She was enjoying her peaceful solitude.

Or so she thought.

When she turned her head slightly to adjust her sunglasses, she caught a glimpse of Luke standing on the back porch. He was leaning against the railing, looking right at her. His eyes flickered away as soon as she spotted him, but it was too late. Sadie had seen him staring.

A mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

Caught you.

Deciding to have a little fun with it, Sadie flipped onto her front, resting her chin on her folded arms. Then, with a playful smirk, she reached behind her and undid the knot on her bikini top, letting it fall loose against the towel beneath her. Luke couldn't actually see shit, but she thought it was hilarious to tease him.

After a few beats of silence, Sadie couldn't help but sneak a peek in his direction. Luke was still on the porch, but his posture was tense, clearly flustered. His eyes darted between her and the lake, like he wasn't sure where to look.

She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Oh, this is too good.

Satisfied with the teasing, she casually rolled back onto her back and retyed her top like nothing had happened. Then she stood up, grabbing her book and towel, she sauntered back inside with a smirk tugging at her lips. She didn't need to look back to know there were still a set of blue eyes staring at her.

Luke wandered into the living room, hesitating briefly at the door before walking to Sadie on the couch. His hair was still slightly damp from a dip in the lake, and he seemed almost more relaxed without Jack and Quinn there.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"

"Go for it," she replied, looking up from her book. She shifted over to make space for him.

Luke sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in an attempt to look casual. It didn't work and Sadie could still feel the tension in the air. She knew Luke was flustered about the whole backyard situation and she found it fucking hilarious.

"You're always reading," he remarked, nodding towards the book in her hands. "What is it this time?"

She raised an eyebrow and flipped the book around so he could see the cover. "I'm not 'always' reading. You've caught me reading twice. And it's just something to kill time. You know, since your brother is off pretending he's a celebrity."

"Yeah, Jack's like that. Always pretending he's the best," Luke chose to ignore her remark about him only seeing her reading twice.

"Must've been annoying growing up with him," Sadie teased.

"Oh, it was. But he's alright. Could've been worse."

The conversation continued easily from there, their voices filling the silent house with stories about their childhoods, embarrassing moments, and life in general. Luke found himself relaxing more and more as Sadie talked. She was sharp, funny, and this special energy that drew him in. The confident, teasing girl from the backyard was showing her soft side and he could see why Jack was head over heels in love with her,

Sadie yapped about her life in university, the friends she had back home in Jersey, and even some wild stories from a girls' trip to New York. Luke listened, hanging off of every word. She was cool, and not in a superficial way, but genuinely cool. She wasn't just Jack's girlfriend. She was Sadie. And she was amazing.

But with that realization came guilt.

He watched her laugh as she told a funny story, and Luke felt the pull growing inside him. He was really starting to like her. Maybe too much.

This was Jack's girlfriend. He shouldn't feel that way about Jack's girlfriend.

He knew it was wrong, but he made no effort to distance himself from her. Instead, he found himself drawn to her more and more, wanting to sit there with her, to hear her laugh again, to see the smirk that covered her face when she teased him.

"So, how about you?" she asked, snapping him from this thoughts. "What's it like being the baby? Bet Jack gave you hell."

"They both did. But especially Jack. He never, ever let me forget I was the youngest. Always had to one-up me."

"Sounds like Jack," she grinned, and Luke's smile faltered at the lovestruck look on her face at the meer mention of Jack. "Bet you're giving it right back now."

"I try." There was a brief lull in conversation and the silence that followed felt like it was charged with electricity.

Sadie held his gaze a beat longer than she should have before breaking the eye contact with a playful smile. "Well, if you ever need any tips on how to outsmart Jack, I've got plenty."

"I might just have to take you up on that."

The sun lay low in the late afternoon sky making the lake look like it was sparkling. Sadie and Luke stood by the water's edge, still filling in the quiet hours without Jack and Quinn.

Sadie grinned, nudging Luke with her elbow. "Bet you can't beat me in a water fight."

"You're on."

Without warning, Sadie walked off into the water, her laugh echoing as she turned around to splash Luke. He barely had time to react before a wave of water was hitting his lower legs.

"Oh, it's like that?" Luke laughed, taking off after her.

It didn't take long before they were having a full-on war, splashing each other mercilessly. Sadie couldn't stop laughing as Luke chased her through the water. After on particularly good splash, she tried to swim away, but Luke caught up to her, his hands gripping her waist as he tried to dunk her. Sadie squealed in protest, kicking her legs.

"Let go, you cheater!" she giggled, twisting in his grip.

Luke grinned, he really liked how infectous her laugh was. But as they wrestled in the water, something shifted. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should have. Her skin was riddled in goosebumps from the cold water, but still felt smooth under this touch, and suddenly the playful moment didn't seem quite as innocent.

Shit.

Sadie, still in the middle of laughing and trying to escape his hold, didn't seem to notice the change in him. She was completely carefree, seeing the moment for what it was--a game. But Luke wasn't feeling it anymore. His throat felt tight and pulse picked up.

His hands were still on her waist.

Luke's breath hitched, and before she could turn around and see the look on his face, he let go, stumbling backward in the water.

"You good? You're not giving up already, are you?"

Luke forced a chuckle, but it came out sounding way more like a cough. "Uh, yeah, I--uh, I think I've had enough."

Without waiting for her response, he quickly waded out of the water and back onto the shore. The evening breeze did nothing to cool his flustered state.

Sadie was still in the water, floating on her back with a smile on her face. "Aw, come on!"

He just mumbled something incoherent, grabbed his towel, and hurried back into the house without even looking her way.

Luke rushed past his parents in the kitchen, heading straight for his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and flopped down onto the bed, shoving his face in a pillow. He wanted to scream, but even the pillow wouldn't muffle the sound enough from anyone downstairs.

I'm attracted to her.

The thought hit him like a freight train, the words echoing over and over again like a prayer. It wasn't just some innocent crush. He was undeniably, painfully attracted to Sadie--his brother's girlfriend.

How had he let it get this far? She was dating Jack. She was Jack's girlfriend. And yet, anytime she laughed or smiled at him, Luke felt like a fucking high schooler.

He couldn't stop it, couldn't ignore it anymore.

He hadn't meant to hold her like that in the water. It was meant to be just a harmless game, but he had taken it too far in his mind. Sadie, however, hadn't even seemed to notice. Maybe she did and she was just ignoring it. Surely that was it.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Luke," he cursed himself, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was how perfect she had looked in that moment.

The worst part of all? He didn't want to stop feeling that way.

Even as the guilt knawed at him, he couldn't bring himself to want to distance from her. Being around Sadie felt good. It felt natural. And that scared him even more.

Suddenly, he heard laughter from the hallway outside his door. Luke froze, listening as Jack's voice joined in, low and teasing, followed by Sadie's giggles.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the guilt. But then there was a pause in the laughter. He could picture what was happening. The way that Jack was looking at Sadie. The that Sadie was looking back up at Jack with a smile on her face, maybe teasing him.

Then... the sound of a kiss broke the silence. It was soft, but it might as well have been the loudest thing that Luke had ever heard. His stomach twisted, and he tried to shove his face further into the pillow, but it was no use the couple was back to laughing.

This is wrong. It's all wrong. But as wrong as he knew it was, he couldn't deny the truth.

He was falling for Sadie. And he was falling for Sadie... hard.

The whole family and Sadie were gathered around the pool table, Jim and Ellen watching from the corner, while the "kids" took their turns at the competetive game that had started.

Sadie was standing next to Jack, leaning against the wall with a gin and tonic, that her "boyfriend" had made her, in her hand. She was watching Quinn line up his shot, her eyes crinkling as she laughed about whatever it was that Jack was whispering to her about. Jack had his arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her closer as she laughed. They looked so comfortable. So perfect.

Luke stood across from them, gripping his pool cue so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Every laugh that Jack and Sadie shared, every playful nudge, felt like a stab to his gut.

"Alright, Sades, your go," Jack kissed her cheek before handing her a cue.

She leaned over the table, lining up her shot with Jack standing behind her, offering a few "helpful" tips. His hand rested on her lower back, guiding her aim. Quinn looked over at Luke, raising his eyebrows as if to say "look how suggestive he's being."

Luke just shook his head, trying to focus on the game. But all he could think about was how close and touchy they were being. And how it made his stomach churn with something that he could only guess was jealousy.

Fuck, it was so messed up.

"Luke, it's your turn," Quinn called.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," he blinked, shaking his head. He stepped up to the table, trying to compose himself as he lined up his shot. He missed it by a mile, the ball ricocheting off the side with a loud thunk.

"Wow, nice one, Rusty," Jack teased.

His jaw was clenched, "Guess I'm just off tonight."

Sadie didn't even notice, giggling as Jack asked for her opinion on their next move. Why were they acting like they were the only ones in the room? Was nobody else finding it annoying? Luke glanced at his mom. She was smiling at the young couple, a lovestruck look on her face. Maybe he was the only one that found it annoying.

Sadie lay sprawled across Jack's bed, her phone held loosely in her hand as she scrolled through texts from her friends back home. Jack was in the shower, insisting he wash the lake water off his body. She had some time to kill and her friends, that weren't her friend group with Jack, were ready to gossip.

The Hottest Girls in Jersey Sadie, Alex, and Carly

Carly: Soooo, how's it going with Mr. NHL?? Alex: yeah, girl. spill. is he, like, actually boyfriend material or are you just having a hot ass summer fling??

Sadie rolled her eyes at their messages, biting her lip as she thought of her reply.

Sadie: it's... complicated Carly: Ugh, isn't it always lol Alex: we need details, sades. what's complicated? the sex? the family? Sadie: family's cool. his mom is like super sweet. and his brothers are... yeah Carly: Oh, brothers, huh? Now you like reallyyyyy need to spill

Sadie hesitated, glancing towards the bathroom door. She could still hear Jack humming to himself while the water ran. No way he was gonna come out and read her messages any time soon.

Sadie: okay, fine. it's not really jack. it's luke Carly: LUKE?! Alex: WAIT. WHAT. HIS BROTHER LUKE?! Sadie: yep. younger brother, but soooooo much more my type Carly: Girllllll, you're bad Alex: hold the fucking phone. is this the guy we're talking about here? what's wrong with jack, then? isn't he like the only reason you're there?

She chuckled to herself, it did kinda sound insane when she typed it all out.

Sadie: jack's great. don't get me wrong. but, luke... he's like more quiet. jack's more playful and sassy, but idk... plus i love a boy with curly hair Carly: You're catching feelings for his brother??? Holy shit, girl Alex: lmao this is legit some CW ass drama

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, but it was true. Luke was more her type. He was tall, not that Jack wasn't tall, but Luke was tall. He had the cutest nose and the best curls she'd ever seen. Jack was fun. Jack was easy. But Luke...

Sadie: it's not that deep. but yeah, ig i'm more into luke than jack Carly: Oooo Alex: you're fake dating jack tho, right? like what's the plan here?? Sadie: i don't fucking know!!! nothing's happened with luke, obviously. but like next time we're alone? i might see what happens ;) Carly: You are fucking INSANE, Sadie!!! Alex: if you're that desperate, you've got Jack right there...

She laughed out loud at Alex's message. She was definitely not desperate, but she still glanced to the bathroom door. The water had stopped. Jack would be out any second.

Sadie: trust me, i'm not desperate. luke's gonna be the move

Just as she hit send, Jack emerged from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips.

"Texting the girls?" he ran a hand through his wet hair.

She slipped her phone under the pillow, a playful smile on her face. "Yeah, they were asking about you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, falling down onto the bed next to her. "All good things, I hope?"

She snorted, "Guess you'll never know."

He rolled his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Whatever. You were probably telling them how much of a stud I am."

Sadie smirked, though her mind was still buzzing with the excitement of what she'd just admitted to her friends. Jack had no idea, and honestly? That just made it even more thrilling.

Jack bounded into the living room, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. Sadie was sat on the couch, scrolling passively through Instagram, while Luke stood in the kitchen chugging a glass of water.

"I'm headed to the rink for a few hours," Jack announced, slapping his hand on the back of the couch, full of energy. "Got a little off-season workout with Q and some of the guys."

"A workout?" Sadie quirked an eyebrow. "You never stop, do you?

"That's what makes me so irrresistible, babe." He shot her a wink before turning to Luke. "You busy?"

Luke wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, setting down his glass. "Not really."

"Why don't you keep her company? You guys should hang out. Show her around town or something."

Luke flushed, his eyes flickering to Sadie, who was sat with an amused smile on her face. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Perfect!" Jack leaned down and kissed Sadie's cheek. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try," she giggled, leaning into his touch but keeping her eyes on Luke.

"See you later! Have fun!"

And just like that Jack was gone.

"Well, looks like it's just us again," Sadie said, stretching dramatically.

"Yeah, guess so."

Sadie stood from the couch, tapping her finger against her lips as if she was thinking. "You know what we should do?"

"What?"

"Go for a swim! It's hot out, and the lake looks amazing."

Luke hesitated. He wasn't sure he could handle that again. But before he could come up with an excuse, Sadie was heading toward the back door.

"Come on! Don't make me swim alone. I might drown."

By the time he made it down to the dock, Sadie was standing at the edge, her back to him as she looked out over the water. She had stripped down to her bikini--a simple black one that fit her like a glove.

Luke shook his head. He had no right to stare. Jack's girlfriend, not his. Get a grip.

"Took you long enough, Luke. Thought you were going to bail on me."

"Just... taking my time." He managed a weak laugh.

"Uh-huh." She dipped her toe in the lake, testing the temperature. "Water feels amazing. Bet I can beat you in."

She dove in without even waiting for an answer. She resurfced a few feet out, shaking the water from her hair and grinning at him. "What're you waiting for?"

Luke hesitated for just a second longer before diving in after her. The shock of the cool water cleared his head. That was until he surfaced and saw Sadie floating nearby, her hair splayed around her like a halo.

"See? Told you it feels amazing."

He swam a bit closer, but decided to keep his distance. "Yeah, guess you were right."

Sadie flipped onto her stomach, treading water as she swam to him. "Relax." She nudged her shoulder with his. "You look so tense."

Her tone was light, but the promixity of them felt almost dangerous. "I am relaxed."

"Bullshit. You look like the tensest motherfucker ever," she splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. "Come on. Loosen up."

Luke sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes. "Oh, it's gonna be like that, huh?"

"Just sayin'... life's too short to be serious all the time," her hand brushed his arm as she floated by, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, casual, but it still made it so he couldn't think straight. He wanted to keep his distance, but she wasn't making it easy in the slightest.

"You and I should do this more often," she mused.

"What? Swim?"

She scoffed, "No. Hang out."

Was she messing with him? Or was she being serious? He couldn't tell with her. Her teasing had been light and innocent until now. Now every word that left her mouth felt like it had a second meaning.

"I... I don't know."

What kind of shit response was that? God, he looked like an idiot.

She swam closer to him, stopping when she was right in front of his face. "You don't know? I think you do, Luke."

He could feel her leg brushing against his and his whole body felt like it was one fire despite the cool water. He should've pulled back, but he couldn't. He was frozen.

"Ha! You're cute when you're flustered."

For a moment, he felt himself lean in, as if there was an invisible force pulling him to her. But just as quickly, Sadie pulled away, climbing back onto the dock and swaying her hips as she headed back to the house, leaving the boy completely flabbergasted.

Jim and Ellen had left for a special dinner out and Jack had quickly suggested a game night, complete with alcohol and whatever games they could find in the basement. Luke had agreed, only because he knew he could drink, and that might make being in the same room as Sadie more bearable.

"Alright, team," Jack tossed a can of beer to Luke, who caught it without looking "Game night is on. Hope you're ready to lose, Qball."

"Yeah, yeah. You always say that, but I'm the one who wins."

"You guys don't stand a chance. Right, babe?" Sadie grinned up at Jack.

"You bet. Dream team right here."

Luke looked at them, all snuggled up together. He blinked a few times before chugging the rest of his beer. Jack laughed, "Alright, Lukey." He tossed him another one, getting ready to explain the rules of the game.

By the third round, Jack had pulled Sadie into his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist like a seatbelt. They were laughing, whispering inside jokes, and exchanging kisses, acting like they were the only people in the room.

Luke tried to focus on the game, but he found himself looking up to see Sadie running her fingers through Jack's hair, her other hand squeezing his thigh.

He wanted to believe that she had meant something by the little act she'd put on at the lake. But seeing her all over Jack made him feel like he'd never been so wrong. She was clearly into Jack. She didn't mean anything by it. She's just... being friendly.

So why did it feel like more?

"Can you guys like chill?" Quinn spoke up. "We're trying to play a game, not watch you two make out."

"Oh, come on, Quinn. We're just having fun," Sadie giggled.

"Yeah, don't be a buzzkill," Jack added, pressing kisses to her neck.

"There's having fun, and then there's..." Quinn paused, his voice laced with annoyance. "You're practically having sex in front of us."

"Jealous?"

"No, Luke and I just don't wanna see that."

"Whatever."

"Your turn, Luke."

"Right," he muttered, grabbing the dice and rolling it halfheartedly. The alcohol wasn't helping, dulling his senses and making everything worse. He kept glancing at Sadie, hoping for some sign that she was aware of what she was doing to him, but she didn't even look his way.

The final straw came when Jack, clearly tipsy, pulled Sadie in for a long, slow kiss right in the middle of Quinn's turn. Jack and Sadie were known by their friends for their drunk kisses, but his brothers really didn't want to see it.

"I'm done. You two aren't even playing!" Quinn threw his hands up.

"Fine, fine. We'll stop! Happy now?"

"No. I'm going to bed before I see something even worse."

"Uh, yeah, me too. Night guys," Luke nodded, following his oldest brother.

"Bedtime?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah, bedtime, I guess."

Luke hadn't gone to bed. He couldn't sleep. His brain wouldn't shut up. It had been a couple hours since game night had ended and he felt more sober than he was before he started drinking. Maybe he was insane. Maybe Sadie had driven him to his breaking point. She was so goddamn confusing. And--

"Hey."

"What're you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Jack?"

She shrugged, closing the sliding door behind her. "He's passed out. I wanted to come find you."

"Sadie, you really shouldn't--"

"I know what you're going to say. But I think you're wrong."

"Wrong?"

Sadie moved in, her hand reaching for his, her fingers tracing along his wrist. "You're overthinking things, Luke."

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her face inches from his, her lips so close he could feel her breath. He should've pulled away. He should've told her to stop.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Instead, Luke closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, longing kiss.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Her touch sent sparks through his body. But those sparks made reality set in.

He pulled away, his chest heaving. "No. This is wrong."

"What?"

"You need to stop," he stood up suddenly, almost making Sadie fall over. His voice was full of anger. "This... this whole thing is fucked up, Sadie. You're Jack's girlfriend."

She stared at him for a second or two before, to Luke's surprise, she started laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Luke snapped. "I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell Jack everything. He needs to know what you've been doing."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jack and I aren't really together."

"What... what do you mean?"

Sadie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's fake. The whole thing--it's just an act."

"An act? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jack needed me to play the part of his girlfriend for the summer," Sadie explained, her tone casual as if everything she was saying was normal. "Natalie, the neighbour girl. She's obsessed with Jack. And she won't take no for answer. So he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend so she'd leave him alone."

"So... this is all fake?"

"Yep. We've just been playing the part, that's all."

"But... you guys... you were kissing. You're all over each other."

Sadie shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. "That... that's just something that happens when we drink. No big deal."

"No big deal? You guys were making out in front of us, and you're saying it doesn't mean anything?"

"Exactly. Jack and I are close friends. That's all it is. No feelings involved," her tone was so matter-of-fact it made Luke's stomach churn. "All for show. We figured the more real it looks, the less people will question it."

"So... you don't have feelings for him?"

"For Jack? No. We're friends. Nothing more. We've been friends since he joined the Devils. And yeah, we get a bit... affectionate when we drink. But it's never been serious."

"Then why... why were you flirting with me?"

"Because, Luke... you're the definition of my type." She reached out and brushed her hand against his cheek. "Didn't think it was that hard to figure out."

"But Jack..."

"Jack doesn't care," she cut him off. "He's the one that suggested I hang out with you more. He's clueless. He only cares that I keep Natalie away from him."

"So this whole time, you've been..."

"I've been flirting with you. And you've been trying soooo hard to resist. It's kinda cute."

He had been so sure that what he felt was wong--so convinced that he was betraying Jack. Now... now he didn't know what to think.

"This is... this is insane."

"Maybe. But it's also kinda fun. Don't ya think?"

Luke didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond to that. Everything he thought he understood had just been flipped upside down, and now he was standing there with Sadie--Jack's not-so-girlfriend--who had just admitted she'd been flirting with him for days. Part of him wanted to kiss her again. The other part was screaming at him to stop because even if they weren't dating, it still felt like he was lying to his brother.

"I... I don't know what to do."

"Don't have to do anything. Just think about it, I guess. I'm not going anywhere. Jack's got me stuck here for a while."

She winked, turning toward the door, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts once again.

Jack was up, chatting with his parents over breakfast, Sadie sat next to him looking as carefree as ever. Luke was watching her silently from across the room, his mug of coffee in his grip.

She glanced over at him and smiled like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. And Luke knew he needed to talk to her. He hated pretending things were normal when they weren't. His mind was playing the kiss on repeat and the way she'd admitted her relationship with Jack was just for show.

It all felt like a weird dream.

When Jack got up to grab some more cereal, Luke saw his chance.

"Sadie," he whispered, "can we talk? Alone?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack who was now rummaging through the fridge for some milk. "Sure. Lead the way."

Once they were inside Luke's room, Sadie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "What's up? I see Mr. Serious is back."

"I just... I need to understand how this is supposed to work. The whole thing with Jack. You and me. All of it."

"What's there to understand? Jack's clueless. He doesn't know anything. Not that he'd care anyway."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is," she shrugged. "You're overcomplicating it."

"I don't know if I can keep this up. It's driving me crazy."

"Is it? Because it didn't seem like you were too hard of a time last night on the porch."

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He grabbed Sadie by the waist, before he could second-guess himself, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

Sadie definitely didn't second-guess anything, kissing him back as her hands ran up to his hair. Any boundaries that Luke had tried to build had been torn down, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop.

They stumbled backward, his hands sliding down a bit to her hips. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated with every passing second. The rest of the world melted away, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing as they broke apart just to kiss again.

The bed hit the back of Luke's knees and they collapsed onto it, lips still locked. For one of the first times since Luke had met Sadie, he wasn't busy thinking about right or wrong. He wasn't thinking about Jack or the consequences of his actions. All that mattered was Sadie, the taste of her lips, and how tight her fingers were gripping his hair.

Just as things were about to heat up further, Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

"Sadie? You up there?"

She pulled back instantly, her lips swollen from the kiss. "Shit," she whispered. "I should... I should go."

Luke didn't say anything, his eyes half-lidded. Sadie stood up, adjusting her shirt and hair as she shot him a smile "Sorry, Luke. Duty calls."

She looked back at him one last time as she opened the door. "This isn't over."

What had he gotten himself into?

It had been a couple days since Sadie and Luke had shared their first kiss, and they'd been sneaking around ever since. Little touches when no one was looking, stolen kisses behind closed doors. The more they got away with, the more daring they became.

That afternoon, Jack had been outside messing around with Quinn by the dock, while Sadie had slipped away, telling Jack she needed to grab something from inside. Luke had been alone in the house, trying to clear his head. But the second Sadie entered the living room, everything went out the window.

And suddenly, they were tangled together on the couch, lips locked. Sadie gripped the front of his t-shirt, tugging gently. It was just them in that moment, tension building higher and higher, and Luke couldn't stop himself from enjoying it.

Then the door slammed.

They pulled apart just in time to see Jack standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. The expression on his face was confused, almost dazed as he stared at them.

"Uh... what the fuck?" His tone was sharp, but not angry--more like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Luke's hands fell away from Sadie as he shot up from the couch, his face flushed. "Jack, I--"

Jack cut him off, pacing the room, his eyes shooting between them as he tried to piece everything together. "How long... how long has this been going on?"

Sadie just waited for Luke to speak.

"Luke, how long?" Jack repeated.

"A couple days. It just... happened."

"A couple days? And you just didn't think to say anything?"

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Jack's attention shifted to Sadie. "Does he know? About us?"

"Yes, Jack. I told him. He knows it's all fake."

"So... you knew? You knew it was fake, so you decided..." Jack gestured wildly between them, pacing again, his hands tugging at his hair. "I don't get it. I don't fucking get it."

"Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen--"

"Didn't mean for what to happen? You didn't mean to start sneaking around with my fake girlfriend? Or you didn't mean to fall for her?"

Jack wasn't yelling. He wasn't angry. He just looked... confused. Hurt, maybe? And that just made it all so much worse.

"J, listen. This whole thing--it got out of hand. Luke and I... we didn't plan this. Just happened."

"But you two... were just... you were just making out on the couch! How does that 'just happen?'"

Sadie rolled her eyes, "Just does."

"Clearly! I mean, I thought everything was fine. I thought everyone was just hanging out, and meanwhile, you two are making out on the couch?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I..."

"I'm not mad. Just... what the hell, guys? I don't understand."

"J, it's not like that. You and I--we're just friends. You know that. This shit with Luke... it's different."

"Different how?"

"Dunno. Just is."

Finally, Jack let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. "Okay. Okay, fine. You two... you do whatever. I just... I need a minute to process all this."

Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand, stopping her. "Seriously, just... gimme a minute. I'll be outside if you need me."

Luke collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands as Jack retreated outside. Could this get any worse?

The rest of the day had been weird and silent. Sadie had spent it journaling and reading, giving both brothers the space that they needed. But as they got ready for bed, things were the most awkward they'd ever been between Jack and Sadie. Jack moved around the room, grabbing his phone charger and tossing it onto his nightstand, while Sadie stood by the dresser, pulling a t-shirt over her head. Neither of them spoke, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

"So... are we going to talk about this?" Sadie finally gave in.

"Talk about what?"

"You know what," she gave him a look. "About you walking in on me and Luke today."

"What's there to talk about? I mean... I get it. You guys--"

"Are you jealous?" she interrupted, her voice timid. "Like, even a little bit?"

Jack blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Jealous?" He furrowed his brow. "No. I don't think so."

"Not even like... deep down?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"No. I don't feel jealous. I mean, maybe if I did... I'd be way more upset about it all. But.. I dunno. I've only ever seen you as a friend. Same way you see me. A close one, sure, but still... just a friend. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But you were really thrown off earlier, Jack. You seemed so... I dunno.... confused?"

"Yeah. I think it was more just the shock of it, ya know? Didn't expect to walk in and see my brother making out with my fake girlfriend."

She let out a small laugh. "So it's not weird for you? At all?"

"I guess it's weird in the sense that... I knew that you and Luke would get along. I just didn't think you'd get along this well."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly see it coming either."

"But no, I'm not mad or anything. Honestly, I think you and Luke fit each other way better than you and me ever could. I'm just surprised... I guess."

"Surprised how?"

Jack sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I just never thought that... bringing you here would lead to you two... doing whatever this is."

"We haven't really figured it out," she rubbed at her arm.

Sadie climbed into bed first, pulling the covers over herself. Jack followed suit, but as they lay there side by side, for the first time since Sadie had arrived, he made no move to cuddle. No arm draped over her waist. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't want to cuddle tonight?"

Jack hesitated, then sighed for the millionth time that day. "It's just... it feels weird now, I guess. Knowing you've been doing... stuff with Luke. It's different."

Sadie bit her lip, and for the first time she felt that guilt that Luke had been feeling. "Jack... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so complicated."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not like you did anything wrong... really. Things are just different now... that's all."

Jack rolled over, facing the other side of the bed, leaving a noticeable gap between them. Sadie stared at the back of his head for a moment, feelings like she should reach out and say something. But it was too late, Jack was already asleep.

Sadie and Luke sat at the end of the dock. The whole day had been awkward and Sadie felt even more out of place than she had when she first arrived.

"I don't want to make this weird," Sadie said, her voice soft, but her eyes locked with Luke's. "I really like you, but if it's gonna screw up my friendship with Jack... we should stop. We have to."

"I like you too. More than I thought I would. But yeah, this whole thing with Jack... it's too complicated. I don't wanna hurt my brother. I'd feel so guilty."

"We have to end things. It's not fair to him. Or us."

"I don't want to end things though," Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... it's not just about the physical stuff to me. I feel something with you, Sadie. Something real."

"I feel it too. But I can't mess up things with Jack, so maybe it's better if we end things now before they get more complicated."

Jack, who had been on his way back inside, had walked past and heard his friend and brother talking. He leaned against a tree, piecing together everything they were saying. His stomach turned. But it wasn't anger. Or jealousy. He wasn't upset. It was relief. Luke and Sadie really liked each other. It wasn't just some sneaky hookup. It wasn't fair to make them feel guilty for something that wasn't even real to begin with.

"Hey."

Sadie and Luke both jumped, practically leaping out of their skin.

"Jack, I--"

"You don't have to explain anything. I heard what you guys were saying. And look, it's fine. You don't have to end whatever this is."

Sadie blinked in surprise. "You're not upset?"

Jack shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "No. I'm not. I'm actually happy for you guys."

"Happy for who?" Ellen's voice joined the conversation.

"Jesus, is everyone listening to us?" Luke whispered to Sadie.

Jim and Quinn were close behind Ellen, also curious to what was happening on the dock.

"Luke and Sadie."

"Luke and Sadie?"

"Yeah, they're in love."

"We're not in--"

"Luke's in love with your girlfriend?" Quinn asked.

"About that..." Sadie rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Sadie and I aren't really dating. We're friends. Close friends. She was just trying to help me get Natalie off my back. And I was helping her get her parents off her back," Jack admitted.

The family stared at him for a beat, then burst into laughter.

"Are you serious? All this was just to keep Natalie away?"

"Pretty much."

Ellen, still smiling, looked at Sadie and Luke, then back to Jack. "You know, Jack... I thought from the start that Sadie was a better fit for Luke anyway."

"Looks like you this turned out well for everyone," Quinn laughed.

Luke turned to Sadie, sliding his fingers between hers. "So... now that the truth's out... what do you think?"

"I think we've got time to figure it out," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. And finally after weeks of being there, Sadie felt like she belonged.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine

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possamble · 5 months

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What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

#asks #she could easily be interpreted as distant or neglectful after Donato's death too #with how little involvement she has in Marcille's life/the fact that Marcille doesn't even mention her when talking about her life prospect #and that's fair! I will argue to hell and back that she was a loving parent when Donato was alive #but there's nothing that suggests she remained a loving parent afterwards #I just think that like... parental relationships are so complicated in dungeon meshi #you cannot deny that the toudens' mother loved them dearly but that she failed them both miserably as a parent #and i think it'd be more compelling if Marcille's mother was a little like that too #not a totally and easily dismissable deadbeat #but someone who truly loves her daughter but was only human herself and couldn't be what Marcille needed at a crucial moment #and regrets it deeply #and that the distance between them is mutually self-imposed by complicated feelings of guilt and fear #and a little resentment from Marcille's side that she hasn't really properly processed #I don't know if I'll ever get around to writing it but i had this idea where Marcille does finally spill the beans to her mom and she just #immediately arrives in Melini #and its awkward for a bit but they do finally have a heart to heart and air it all out #and marcille starts freaking out that her marriage is rocky rn bc her new husband wants her to distance herself from marcille #on account of the crimes and all #marcille's like no you can't blow up your marriage for me and her mother just shuts that shit down #'you didn't choose to be born. i was the one who made that choice for you'#'i brought you into this world and i'll be damned if i don't take responsibility for that the entire way'#'you are entitled to *nothing less* than my unconditional love.'#and obviously that's not a sentiment that's exactly healthy as a universal statement about parenthood #but i think its what her mother would believe and what marcille needs to hear #and dungeon meshi does such a fantastic job at just... letting imperfect things just *be* without having to justify it immediately #it expects the audience to do their own critical thinking #and know that its not trying to make sweeping universal statements in every instance #marcilleposting #marcille donato #junoposting

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