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#becca writes books
dragonsaffron · 1 year
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A Proper Introduction
This post has been sitting in my drafts for literal months at this point, but in response to the impending collapse of Twitter, I figured it was time to finally make a post about my writing so that I could start advertising on this platform.
So, hello, my name is Saffron (though some call me Becca). I am a autistic trans lesbian polyamorous dragonkin (she/they), and I’m a writer. As of right now, the bulk of my writing is available for free online. My main projects are my web novels, which I typically write two of at any given time, releasing chapters every other week on a regular schedule. The publicly available chapters of my novels are available in three places: you can read them on my Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/saffrondragon), on my wordpress page (https://beccawritesbooks.wordpress.com/) or on Scribblehub (https://www.scribblehub.com/profile/9163/saffrondragon/). Warning: Scribblehub is a free story hosting website, so although it has better support structures (bookmarking, ratings, etc) it is also full of weird hentai.
Like I said before, I have a Patreon. As of right now, there are two main benefits to being a patron of mine: at the lowest tier, you get early access to chapters of my books, usually between two and four chapters ahead of the free version depending on how well the writing is going at that time. There’s also a higher tier, which gives access to a collection of short stories I’ve written for Patreon (some of them smutty, others not), and the ability to vote on which short stories I will write next.
And now we get to the reason why I’ve been procrastinating writing this post for so long: now I have to try to summarize all of my various works! The Selene Series: Marcus Farrier is a physics graduate student who gets isekai’d to Selene, a steampunk world where humanity evolved to only have one sex. There, Marcus takes up the name “Emma”, and rapidly gets caught up in the chaotic and deadly politics of Selene, and begins having some revelations about their past, their gender, and how they got to Selene in the first place. The Selene series is actually my longest-running writing project, with four years and two-and-three-quarter books under my belt out of a planned four in total. Currently on hiatus, but I will return to it someday.
The Earthborn Emissary: Alex Sierra is living a normal life, with their girlfriend Miri and their best friend Quinn, until the day they fall ill, go into a coma, and wake up to discover that they’ve just emerged from their chrysalis. Alex is actually an Emissary, an insectoid alien from a species that has been driven to the brink of extinction by a genocide; now, their adoptive parents are going to have to take them into space in search of the other members of their species. My longest single book so far, and the closest thing I’ve come to writing what I would consider to be a “YA” novel. My most popular book, though I don’t quite know why. Currently completed, though I may write a sequel someday. The Chained Flame: My most recent and personal favorite of my novels. It’s a loosely-plotted dark fantasy story telling the life of Lindír, prince of the kingdom of Hvalheim, who was cursed at birth to have the body of a dragon. After growing up in the castle dungeons, Lindír finally finds his freedom, and ends up travelling the North as a wandering entertainer, a savage raider, a royal champion, and more. A very tragic book dealing heavily with the theme of traumatic upbringings. Also features a dragon protagonist who does not at any point become human, nor does he particularly want to. In-progress as of the writing of this post, but barely a week away from completion. I also have a couple of short stories posted, as well as two erotic Locked Tomb fanfics on my AO3 account. I generally post new chapters of my novels every second week, Selene updating on Thursdays and Chained Flame updating on Mondays. 
So yeah, that’s what I do for a living! I’ll probably start making announcement posts for new chapters, both in public and on Patreon, as well as any Patreon exclusives, votes, or anything else writing-related that I’m doing. Indeed, I might be making some more posts later today, so keep an eye out for that. Thank you in advance to anyone who spreads the word, and extra thank you to anyone who actually goes the extra mile and starts supporting me. To all of my followers who aren’t interested in my writing, you can block the “becca writes books” tag, which will cover all of my writing-related posts.
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.
Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …
- 🍯
Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫
"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."
With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.
Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.
"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"
As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.
"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.
You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.
"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.
You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.
Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.
"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.
"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.
"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.
"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."
Update: Part 2
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bonesbuckleup · 4 months
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girl help I'm 70,000 words deep into writing this novel and think I have to reoutline and rework the whole thing
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thesleepyblueocean · 2 years
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"No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?"
Addicted To You (Addicted/Calloway Series #1) | Krista & Becca Ritchie
[Text ID: "No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?"]
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scvereignreigned · 6 months
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TAG DROP - SARAH SANDERSON
🕷​ – sarah sanderson
🕷​ – winifred sanderson
🕷​ – mary sanderson
🕷​ – thackery binx
🕷 – max dennison
🕷 – emily binx
🕷​ – dani dennison
🕷​ – billy butcherson
🕷 – gilbert
🕷 – becca
🕷 – izzy
🕷​ – mother witch
🕷​ – cassie
🕷​ – jay
🕷 – ernie
🕷 – aesthetic
🕷 – wardrobe
🕷 – musings
🕷 – about
🕷 – headcanons
🕷​ – book
🕷 – count dracula
🕷 – the devil
🕷 – devils wife
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arcana-books · 4 months
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“—Ve con cuidado. Las montañas son peligrosas en esta época del año.”
Libro: Hielo negro
De: Becca Fitzpatrick
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syxnewt · 8 months
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this is my most conspiracy theory take but I think the reason Becca and Astrid got boyfriends is so people wouldn't think they were gay
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familyabolisher · 1 year
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I do think being a waitress has done one great thing with respect to writing: it has made me understand deeply and fundamentally how many writers are full of shit. It has altered my view of privilege and money and the ways that people complain that mask the fact that in their world, they would never have to do a job that equates to basic manual labor, because their intelligence is worth more than waiting on others. (Side note: Sweetbitter was an overrated waitressing book, Love Me Back is underrated.)
Maybe by accident, maybe on purpose, I fell in to a social group in New York City with many people who consider themselves to be intellectuals. I’ve been privy to countless conversations about how intellectual labor is labor, about how someone needs to do the sitting around and thinking and theorizing, with the thought underlying this being: and it certainly wouldn’t be the people who carry things for a living.
Why don’t websites hire service people to write about food? How do ‘restaurant journalists’ exist, when servers who are also artists are standing right here? A book critic once told me, “a website could never be staffed by service people, the quality of the writing would be too low,” and I wanted to laugh. I suspect it’s easier to teach a waitress to be a writer than an intellectual to be a waiter.
Becca Schuh, Bad Waitress
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How do I figure out what motions/handlings to write? (Hand gestures, moving in the scene, etc).
I am autistic and have never paid much attention to the way people move. I only do so now because I have been reading and noticed it was missing from my own writing. I never see anyone struggle with this, so I feel like I am missing some understanding on how to structure a scene
Guide: Working Body Language Into Your Writing
Body language is the process of communicating nonverbally through conscious or unconscious movements of the body.
Th four types of body language:
-- Facial Expressions -- Posture -- Hand Gestures -- Body Movement
Facial Expressions communicate thought and emotion using the features of the face, such as eyes, mouth, nose, and eyebrows. Some examples of facial expressions are:
-- an upturned mouth -- dimples -- a raised eyebrow -- flushed cheeks -- a scrunched nose -- rolling eyes -- gaping jaw -- eye signals (winking, narrowed eyes, twinkling eyes, etc.)
Posture communicates thought and emotion using the positioning of the body, head, and limbs. Some examples of posture:
-- sitting up straight -- slouching -- leaning toward someone -- hugging oneself -- crossed arms -- hands on hips -- slumped shoulders
Hand gestures communicate thought and emotion using intentional movements of the hand. Some examples of hand gestures:
-- pointing -- "face palm" -- waving -- beckoning with hand or finger -- thumbs up -- middle finger -- clenched fists -- covering mouth with hand -- placing hand over heart -- gesturing at someone/something -- clapping
Body movements communicate thought and emotion using bigger actions, like gestures using the head/neck or limbs, or moving the entire body. Some examples of body movements:
-- jumping up and down -- cowering -- flinching -- bowing/curtsying -- handshakes/hugs -- hitting/kicking/pushing -- taking a step back -- moving toward -- shrugging -- shaking head/nodding -- tipping head back -- dancing in place Choosing Body Language to Show Emotion
A character's thoughts and emotions can be conveyed using a combination of different body language signals. Every body language signal (such as a wink, smile, frown, shrug, wave, etc.) has a bunch of emotions it can be tied to.
For example, we all know that smiling is typically a sign of positive emotions like happiness, joy, satisfaction, triumph, and affection. Shrugging is usually an indication of indifference or not knowing something. However, we can also modify body language using adjectives. For example, a "nervous smile" or a "sad smile" tells us something very different from just a regular smile. An "apathetic shrug" clarifies indifference, whereas an "enthusiastic shrug" implies excitement about something but not having all the answers or facts.
Sometimes, choosing the right emotion to illustrate a character's thoughts and feelings is as simple as considering what you yourself might do in that moment. Or, perhaps someone you know who is like your character. Other times, it can be beneficial to research which body language signals are typically indicative of a particular emotion. For that, I would strongly recommend purchasing a copy of The Emotion Thesaurus by Becca Puglisi and Angela Ackerman. This handy reference lists a variety of emotions along with the body language that often indicate them, and it goes even further in that it also describes the internal sensations that often go with these emotions, which is handy when you're writing in first-person or third-person close/limited. The book is available for purchase in print and e-book, and you can find samples by searching for "One Stop for Writers Emotion Thesaurus."
I hope that helps!
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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billybangbang · 1 month
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Rough Hands, Soft Skin
Butcher x reader
Trigger: Just fluff, and the reader is in pain. This is all self-indulgent.
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Butcher had been back for two weeks from his suicide mission blowing up Stillwell. You all had been hiding out with Frenchies contacts below a pawn shop. It was not the Fourth Seasons Inn but it would beat being held by Vought at a Black Ops sight. You had been a University student before all this happened. Now you have lost everything, no contact with any of your friends, no going to classes and finishing your PhD, no family, absolutely nothing. You had been holding on to the hope that one day you could come out of hiding. And all you had to hang on was your Thesis. It might have been stupid to continue working, researching and writing on your paper but it was all you could hold on to.
 The others left you alone for the most part, except Butcher who continuously made off handed comments about your ‘work’. “Ain’t ya’ a Goddamn opptimist, ay luv. Hate to burst your bubble, sweat’art but this ain’t gonna have a happy ending. So why don’ta put that head of yours to good use, would ya’? You would look at him with an uninterested expression not caring what he had to say. You would pick up your laptop and your books and go to your room. Or what counts for a room in this shit hole. At least you were one of the lucky ones who had a small bed in a closed room. You did not know why you had gotten the room, or that Butcher had ripped the boys a new one when he came back and saw you were sleeping on the sofa in the middle of the ‘living’ room. “Ain’t you a bunch of dumb cunts, aye? Whatcha think some guys, you don’t even know, walking in here, looking over seeing someone tasty sleeping on the couch?” Ever since the deal with Becca, Butcher had been especially protective of the women around him, at least the ones without superpower. He had kicked Hughie out of his room, under your protest, and now it was your room. 
You walked towards your bed, sitting down cross legend and leaning on the wall. You worked like this for hours, until late at night when you were sure most people were sleeping. Your back was killing you, especially now sitting on a bed hunched over, your breast weighing you down even more. But you could not sleep, you could never sleep. After another cramp in your arm, and a twinge in your shoulder you got up. Getting all your books and laptop you walked out towards the kitchen/operating table. Pushing aside some drugs and straggling guns, which to your surprise felt so normal, you put down your stuff. You were getting yourself some water, not aware that you had eyes on you. Butcher watched you from the couch where he was taking up residency for now. He had been watching you for days now. Seeing the exhaustion, the struggle to keep your back straight and you always popping your neck. He knew this situation was tearing on The Boys. Normally he would tell everyone to suck it up and get on with it, but he had to admit he had a soft spot for you. He could not understand it, he knew why he was easy on Hughie. He was like his little brother. But it took him by surprise that he was also fond of you. 
He watched you for a little while, unable to sleep himself. You were sitting on the table, your brows furrowed, constantly going back and forth between writing something on your laptop, reading something in a book and taking notes. He had no idea why you would be willing to do this. Sounded like hell to him sitting in front of a Laptop and typing away. He was always more of a get shit done type of guy. Pain and struggle, physically exhausting himself until he could not keep his eyes open anymore.  
You stretched your neck for the fifth time, groaning when you pressed your fingers into a knot in your left shoulder. It had been bugging you for days, and only got worse, but you refused any drugs from Frnechie. You might be a dealer now but you knew not to take the products that you are selling. You leaned back into the chair and stretched your back, a loud pop rippling down your spine. “Fucking ‘ell, aye. Got bubble wrap in ya spine, or what?” YOu jumped at the rumbling voice. You saw Butcher laying on the couch, one arm behind his back and one leg propped up. How could he make being sprawled out on a couch so alluring? 
“I guess you have never written a paper before.” You turned away from him trying to focus on you writing again, bracing for any mean comment he had brewing up in that head of his. You heard rustling, and footsteps coming closer. It made you even more tense. Butcher stood behind you leaning forward to see what you were writing. “Ain’t really in a line of work you have to fill out paperwork, ya kno?” You raised an eyebrow, “True that.” 
The clacking of your fingernails on the keys sounded in the room, Butcher had been standing behind you for a few minutes not saying anything just watching you work. No comment, just arms crossed, watching. It made you feel something akin to annoyance, nervousness and discomfort. You hated people reading your work before you knew it was as close to perfect as it could get. You just tried to ignore iit and keep writing, when another wave of pain ran up your arm towards your neck, pulling your head towards your shoulder. Butcher huffed behind you before you held his big warm hands on your shoulder. It made you jump, shooting him a questioning look over your shoulder. Grimacing at the movement you turned towards your laptop again. “Ya’ gonna break your back if ya’ keep going like t’at.” He just left his hands on your shoulder, the warmth felt nice. “Yeah well, I don’t think a broken back will be what kills me…” “Yea’ I guess ya’ write, that don’t mean you gotta make it harder for you.” You huffed, close to tears now, from the pain and the exhaustion. You leaned forward putting your head in your hands. “It’s all I got,” you whispered through tears. 
Butcher watched you hunch into yourself, you appeared so small in that moment. He knew how you felt, holding on to the one thing you had and trying to act like that one thing will get you through it. Breathing out slowly, his brows furrowed he pushed you back towards him. His hands were still on your shoulder, making you straighten yourself. He slowly began tracing your neck and shoulders, feeling the knots underneath. He slowly started rubbing one prominent knot on your left shoulder. He applied as gentle pressure as his tough hands were capable off. You hissed out in pain. Even though it was painful, you breathed out in relief, his hands working on. He pushed his thumbs in your shoulder blade drawing up, you let out a painted moan. “‘s okay, just relax,” he encouraged. You closed your eyes, just focusing on your breathing and how warm his hands felt on you. “Can you–” You pointed towards a knot below your shoulder blade. He gave you a grunt in acknowledgement and tranced his hands down towards the spot. “I gotta ya’, luv.” 
Butcher continued working on your back and slowly you began to relax, leaning into him even more. You started to become sleepy and your paper was completely forgotten. “Feels good,” you mumbled. Butcher smirked to himself, feeling his heart racing a bit at your words. 
Your breath hitched, when he pulled your sweater to the side, his hands touching the bear skin on the nape of your neck, massaging down your right shoulder. His hands were rough, weathered by the work. You could feel the calluses on his, his smell inviting you senses. It was all him. The rough edges, the tobacco smell, the spice musk. All you wanted to do was sink into it deeper, until it was all you could feel, see, smell. 
Butcher now was loosely touching your skin, most of the knots loose now. But he did not want to stop feeling the softness underneath his finger tips. He had felt you slowly relax underneath his hands, making him feel like he had accomplished something today. You had a way to sooth his mind and he wished he could just wrap his arms around you, feel your skin underneath his hands, while drifting off to sleep. 
You had leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, his hands wandering down your arms below your sweater. You were so exhausted, you could not keep your eyes open, slowly falling asleep without realizing. 
Butcher felt you getting heavier, smiling to himself. “Common, sweat’eart. Let’s get’cha to bed.” You let out a “hm,” but made no attempt to move. Chuckling to himself he stepped back, your head falling back before you woke up a bit catching it. He walked around towards your side, and suddenly you were lifted up. Butcher had wrapped his arms around your back and underneath your legs. If you were not so tired you would have felt yourself going hot at the action. But now all you did was lean your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. 
Butcher walked towards your room, pushing your door open with his foot. Papers with notes scribbled on them littering your bed and floor. He sat you down on the bed, holding you up with one arm and pushing the papers off the bed. He chuckled to himself, thinking if you were awake you would smack him over the head for this. You slowly layed down, curling yourself in your arms. Butcher took your shoes off and pulled the blanket out underneath you. You grumbled at all the rustling. You scooted closer towards the wall, the small bed leaving little room. Butcher thought about it for a bit. He wanted to lay down and hold you while you slept. Yet, feeling your soft skin underneath his fingers and the difference between his weathered hands and your smooth skin made him pause. Instead he pulled the blanket up toward your shoulder, allowing himself to trace your arm one last time before turning around, softly closing the door and making his way back to the couch. 
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daydreamingleclerc · 1 year
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corrupt // mason mount
in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.
includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.
i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3
this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.
22:04. 
the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.  
“i think it’s-” 
“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”  
she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.  
“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”  
savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.  
“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”  
the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.  
“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”  
“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”  
“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.  
you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.  
it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.  
as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.  
a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.  
“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”  
you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.  
you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.  
“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”  
you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.  
mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.  
“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”  
“-gareth, piss off.”  
your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.  
“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”  
you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.  
“where are you off to?”  
“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”  
mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”  
“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.  
“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”  
“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”  
he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”  
you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”  
“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”  
it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.  
“if you insist.”  
he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm. 
“atta girl.”  
22:50 
it seemed to be a night of firsts.  
for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.  
you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.   
it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex. 
the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.  
“whats up, princess?”  
your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”  
when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”  
his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”  
he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual. 
before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly. 
“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?” 
“his new what?”  
“got myself a new what?”  
yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.  
“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”  
he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”  
he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.  
“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.  
“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”  
“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”  
“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”  
“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”  
eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.  
you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”  
“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”  
“i’ll take you.”  
“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”  
his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.  
“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”  
“why?”  
“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.” 
you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.  
“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”  
“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”  
you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.  
“you just wait at the door, big guy.” 
it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.  
you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.” 
“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”  
you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.  
“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”  
your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.  
“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”  
you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business. 
he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”  
you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.  
“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”  
the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.  
“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”  
his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.  
“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”  
stupid reply.  
“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”  
the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.  
“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.  
“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”  
you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him. 
he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.  
��thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...” 
“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”  
he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.  
“do you... um. will you come in?”  
he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.  
you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.  
his dick hardened in his jeans. 
“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.  
“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”  
23:27 
when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.  
“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”  
she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.  
“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”  
“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”  
you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.  
“where’s your bedroom, darling?”  
savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.  
“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”  
mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.  
“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”  
you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.  
“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.  
you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.  
becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.  
“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”  
“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-” 
“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”  
as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”  
23:52 
“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”  
you asked him. you couldn’t help it.  
you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.  
“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”  
you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.  
mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.  
“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”  
mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”  
you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.  
“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”  
“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”  
mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.  
“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”  
you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”  
“n-no, mason.”  
“you’re not a virgin?”  
“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”  
“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”  
mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.  
“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”  
you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”  
mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”  
“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.” 
“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.  
“did he ever make you cum?”  
you shook your head.  
“n-no, mason.”  
another clit slap.  
“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?” 
the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”  
the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.  
“w-what?”  
“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”  
“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.  
“mhm, yes princess. understood?”  
you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.” 
he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”  
“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”  
“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”  
a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”  
he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.  
“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”  
“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.” 
you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”  
“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”  
“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan. 
“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”  
you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw. 
as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”  
he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”  
mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.  
he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.  
“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”  
mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”  
oh.  
he lay there, waiting patiently.  
“can i please cum, daddy?”  
mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”  
with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.  
you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.  
in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.  
“what’s up, little one?”  
mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.  
“it feels... big.”  
your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.  
“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”  
you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.  
he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting. 
“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”  
“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”  
you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”   
mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.  
“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”  
you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.  
he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”  
“t-the head?”  
“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”  
you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.  
your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”  
you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.  
“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”  
you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”  
he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”  
you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”  
“my mouth.. it tastes weird.” 
he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.  
“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”  
he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.  
“do you remember your word, darling?”  
“cherries, daddy.”  
“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”  
“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”  
“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”  
you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”  
mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.  
“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”  
the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.  
he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”  
your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”  
he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.  
his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.  
you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.  
“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.” 
you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.” 
“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.” 
“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?” 
you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.  
“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.” 
your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.  
the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.  
“d-daddy...”  
mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?” 
“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”  
mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.  
“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”  
 you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.  
“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.” 
“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”  
“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”  
your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.  
“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”  
you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.  
it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.  
“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”  
“what happened...? what did i do?”  
it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.  
“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”  
he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”  
“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”  
mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”  
his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”  
mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.  
“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”  
he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.  
“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”  
“y-you want me to...”  
“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”  
your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”  
“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”  
you smiled.  
“impossible.”  
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becca-e-barnes · 7 months
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Last week I had a full 9-5 day of meetings with no break but it really got me thinking about how much more fun that could’ve been with my Bluetooth controlled vibrator 🙈 Especially with someone like CEO!Bucky who has your calendar and knows what a long day you have ahead of you.
You received a message early in the morning telling you to make sure your toy was fully charged and slipped inside you by 9:30 and there was no way you weren’t going to follow that instruction.
The anticipation alone was enough to let the toy slip in easily and you found yourself distracted enough to almost forget it was there by 10am.
Around 10:15 you felt it start up and it almost made you jump. It wasn’t too intense, just unexpected but you could tell you’d kept control of your expression. People probably wouldn’t notice on a video call anyway.
‘That’s nice.’ You send the text off quickly, hardly looking away from the laptop screen.
‘Good. I’m pacing you.’ The reply almost drew a shiver from you. You can just imagine yourself sitting here all day, writhing in desperation by 5pm.
Incrementally, the intensity of the toy creeps up and up over the next hour until it reaches around half its maximum intensity and then it drops off again.
You’re convinced you’re bound to be dripping. Your panties are absolutely soaked through, the insides of your thighs are slick under your dress and you almost whimper each time the toy changes slightly.
‘Still enjoying yourself?’ The text makes you hesitate because you’re almost not sure that you are. Do you need more or less? Any more and you’ll undoubtedly cum and you’ll have to hide it from the people on the screen. Plus, you’re quite confident that your climax won’t be a reason for him to stop. If you ask for less though, you’re stuck here all day, unsatisfied and frustrated.
‘Fuck, yes.’ That feels like the best response you can manage.
‘Good.’ You hardly have a chance to read the notification before the toy ramps up inside you, far more intense than the 50% you’d been getting.
The vibrations are wonderful and within a few seconds, you’ve flicked your camera off so you can grind you hips pathetically, riding out an incredibly overdue high against your office chair.
It’s not long after that the toy drops back down again, slowing to a light buzzing that keeps you dizzy but not overworked.
‘If you turn your camera off again, I might just bend you over your desk and let them all watch while I fuck you myself.’
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bonesbuckleup · 2 years
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There are many great things about writing original fiction and getting to know your own characters and their world and all that jazz. However. However. The incontestable worst part is that you are litcherally a fandom of one. You’re obsessed with these weirdos you’ve created and no one else know they exist and you want to yell about the situations you’ve put them in but you can’t! Because no one else knows! And even if you talk about it, it’s not the same experience! So it is just you!
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thesleepyblueocean · 2 years
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"Being with you never felt wrong. It's the one thing I did right. You're the one thing I did right."
- Crescendo, Becca Fitzpatrick
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madamevirgo · 7 months
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Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?
And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other
Promises
Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader
Words: 3k
Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing
A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)
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I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom. 
“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.
“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered. 
“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized 
“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that. 
“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered. 
“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.
“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh. 
“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile. 
“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded. 
“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.
“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly. 
“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile. 
“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh. 
“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed
“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in. 
———————
I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem. 
Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited. 
“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face. 
“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept. 
My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now. 
“There you are,” I whispered
“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone. 
“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly 
“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.
This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly. 
“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.” 
“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart. 
“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes. 
“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt. 
“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call. 
As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision. 
———-
The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming. 
Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her. 
As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around. 
I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant. 
“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly. 
It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.
“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t. 
“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two. 
We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer. 
It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home. 
I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled. 
“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands. 
“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 
“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh. 
“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.
“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead. 
“Thank you.” She whispered. 
“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me. 
For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully. 
—-------------------------
When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.
“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.
She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.
“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.
“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.
“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed. 
“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished. 
“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath. 
“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard. 
“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry. 
“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us. 
“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over. 
“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face. 
Her laughter made my heart sing. 
—-------------
This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance.  Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her. 
Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started. 
I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.
“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked. 
“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end. 
“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh. 
“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.
“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call. 
She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else. 
The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue. 
“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die. 
Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support. 
I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause. 
I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today. 
She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept. 
And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other. 
—-------------
“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one. 
“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera. 
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bqstqnbruin · 2 months
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Tattoos of You
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Look, I know this gif is ancient but I love this one don't judge me.
ANYWAY here I am with my entry for @wyattjohnston's summer 2024 fic exchange! I had the pleasure of writing for @senditcolton so I hope you enjoy this because I have literally been thinking about this fic so much for the last like three months (yes I have been working on this idea for too long)
These following links are some of the tik toks that I used for inspo for this fic: X X X X X
Special shoutout to @nicohischier for reading this the entire time I was writing it, love you (I swear you'll get a happy fic at some point)
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, aNGST (Nicole you asked for it)
WC: 11k
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an open book with a sunset coming out of it
The sun was shining, children were running around and laughing, people were splashing around in the water.
Colette was under an umbrella, trying to stay in its shade as much as possible, with a hat on her head and her sunglasses on. 
“Can you please enjoy yourself?” Becca asks. 
“This is as close to enjoying myself as you’re going to get,” Colette mumbles, not looking up from the book that she was reading. It’s not that she hated the beach, it’s that she hated the sun, the sand, the heat, the noise, the crowds of people.
Maybe she did hate the beach.
“Do you want to go back up to the house?” The house was not much better: the AC barely worked when they got in last night, and Colette spent most of the night not sleeping because of how hot the room was. She was also pretty sure that there was a raccoon somewhere in the walls of the house, since the scratching she could swear was coming from behind her head when she was in her bed only happened at night, and magically stopped once the sun came up. 
“Do you want to go back to the house?” Colette asks.
“Not at all.” 
“Well, I’m not going to walk the two miles back alone, am I?”
Becca rolls her eyes, shielding them from the sun despite the huge sunglasses on her face. She looks out to the water and lets out a long sigh. “Everyone else is in the water having fun, why don’t we join them?”
Colette makes a face as she looks out at the rest of her friend group. They were playing some horrible version of chicken, given the fact that she was sure she and Becca were the only ones sober at this point. “Then when you get out of the water, the sand sticks to you because you’re all wet and it’s impossible to get off.” 
“You’re, like, the only person I know who hates the beach this much.”
“I wanted to go to a cabin near the lake we used to go to when we were younger, and you all wanted to ‘try something new,’” Colette points out. “I told you I didn’t like the beach, but you guys said you wouldn’t go away without me.” 
Becca rolls her eyes again, “That’s because we like you, Lettie. You’re the responsible one in the group.” 
Becca gets up without another word, going to join the rest of their friends in the water. “Great,” Colette mumbles, going back to her book.  
She loses track of time, her friends never even coming back to talk to her while she finishes one book and quickly moves on to the next. The people around her come and go, the beach slowly emptying out as people leave for dinner. She wasn’t sure how long her friends would last without food, given the amount of alcohol they had consumed and how little they had come back to their spots in the sand to even grab the snacks they ran around packing that morning. 
“Watch out!” she hears coming from her left, a ball hitting the book out of her hands and into the sand a few feet away before she even has the chance to react.
“You bastards,” she shrieks as two guys come running over to get the ball. “That’s a library book.” 
“Your book is fine,” one of them says, holding up the book with two fingers as if it had a disease or something else rancid oozing out of it. 
“Are you ok?” the other one asks, Colette holding up her hand to shield her eyes so she could at least see the guys she was scowling at with the sun behind them. 
Despite her anger at them for nearly probably injuring her, they were, unfortunately for her, attractive. Not that made her less angry, but if Becca were there next to her, she would somehow manage to force Colette to acknowledge it to their faces. 
“I’m fine, but my book is not,” she says, ripping the thing out of the darker haired boy. “You ripped one of the pages when you picked it up.”
The one with lighter hair looked behind his friend, scoffed and thrust the ball into his friend's chest to pick up the now missing page. “You’re giving her money to pay for a replacement book,” he says, handing Colette the page.
“Fine, I’ll give her the ten dollars.”
“This book cost twenty five,” she tells him, showing him the price from the back of the book.
“Books are twenty five dollars?” he scoffs. “For what?”
“If you could read above a fourth grade reading level, maybe you would know,” Colette mutters, earning a laugh from the lighter haired boy. 
“I’m not paying that much for a book.”
“You’re the one who kicked the ball that ruined her book. You’re the one who’s going to pay for her to replace it so she doesn’t have to. You get, like, a hundred and seventy five thousand dollars a week for your paycheck, you can handle twenty five dollars, you jackass.”
Colette nearly chokes when she hears the number he casually spit out, the two sending themselves into a bickering match over the money. She gets out her phone, wincing as she stands up for the first time in hours to hand it to the dark haired boy. “Send the money here.”
He starts mumbling something under his breath, Colette rolling her eyes as he does as instructed. One of the guys from their group calls for them, him running back to them with the ball.
“Sorry about Mat,” his friend says, standing over Colette as she sits back down.
“He seems like a delight,” she deadpans, trying to hide the combination of disgust and excitement as he sits down with her, laughing at her words.
“He’s an asshole,” he tells her, squinting as he looks out at the water. Colette couldn’t help but study him, the green of his eyes, the sharp angle of his jawline, his somehow perfectly styled hair, all combining to something she didn’t understand her need to look at. “And thankfully, my opposite.”
“People don’t talk like that,” Colette blurts out before thinking.
“Excuse me?”
“‘And thankfully, my opposite,’” she imitates him, lowering her voice and earning another laugh from him. “That’s something people say in rom coms.”
“You’re awfully judgemental for someone who doesn’t have to pay for a damaged book.”
Colette laughs, a smile forming on his face that, for some reason, she didn’t want to stop seeing. “It’s part of my charm. I’m Colette, by the way.”
“Anthony.”
Colette loses track of time again, not because of her now ruined book. Becca eventually comes back, as do the rest of the friends, letting her know that they were running to grab food before coming back to watch the sunset. Anthony’s friends had seemingly all but forgotten about him, at one point leaving without him realizing it, only to come back with Colette’s friends with food for both of them. 
“You guys came all the way to Canada when you live in Pittsburgh?” Mat asks.
“We go somewhere every year together, Lettie picked Vancouver for her turn,” Eddy says.
“I did not pick the beach, though,” she says, only loud enough for Anthony to hear. 
“Glad you did,” he replies, again, only loud enough for her to hear. He smiles at her, his hand inching towards hers in the sand as the sun sets over the water. 
a tent on the ground with a pine tree next to it, the moon and shooting star over both
“Those guys from the beach said they wanted to go camping with us this weekend,” Eddy says during their group facetime. 
Becca immediately started making plans of who was driving with who, Addison talking about the tents and sleeping bags she could borrow from her dad and brothers from their scouting days, Devyn talking about the food they would be able to bring, Franco talking about the beer. 
“Hold on, guys,” Colette interrupted, doubting that any of her friends was actually listening to the others. “Since when do we camp?”
“Since hot guys ask us to,” Eddy says.
“You liked those guys?” Colette asks, the rest of her friends laughing at her.
“Oh, come on, Lettie,” Addison teases her. “You ignored us for the entire three days we were there because you were talking to Anthony.” 
Colette rolls her eyes, thankful that her friends couldn’t see the rapid succession of texts from Anthony appearing on her screen at that moment. She didn’t want to tell them that they were right that she liked talking with him that weekend two months ago, so much so that she had been texting him almost as often as she was texting the group chat. She didn’t want to admit that she thought she was starting to fall for a guy she had only interacted with in person once, because who the hell did that? 
But, this was an excuse to see him again, without her friends nagging her about her crush, that may or may not exist, in a way that wouldn’t be a date. 
“I’m not driving.” 
“Does that mean you’re coming?” Eddy asks, all of her friends faces’ way too close to their cameras for her to do anything other than groan.
“Unfortunately.” 
By the time they got to the camping site, the guys already had enough tents set up for a small army. Eddy stops the car, Devyn and Franco getting out and immediately starting to unpack the trunk full of their stuff. 
“Damn,” Eddy drools, Colette laughing. “I never knew setting up tents was hot.”
“It’s not.”
Eddy fans himself, taking in a deep breath. “It is once you realize that that active bakery over there is attached to your boyfriend.” 
Colette cringes, trying not to let Eddy see her looking at Tito with his back towards them, bent over at his waist, his ass right there. “Not my boyfriend.”
“Not yet, babe,” Eddy corrects her. “That could change tonight.”
“And how, praytell, do you see that happening?”
“You’ll share a tent with him, you’ll share all your secrets, fall madly in love, get married with me as the bridesman of honor, of course, have tons of babies, and die in each others arms like that one couple on the Titanic.” 
“You could eat and shit out a bunch of Scrabble tiles and whatever they spelled out would still make more sense than whatever just came out of your mouth,” she says, getting out of the car just as Becca and Addison pull up behind them. 
Eddy laughs, locking the car doors. “Just because I don’t make sense to you doesn’t mean I’m not right. I’ve never seen two people who align so well before you and Tito. You are so meant to be.”
Colette laughs. “I’ll remember that next time you’re fawning over Devyn and Franco’s relationship,” she tells him, gesturing over to their two friends who had already claimed a tent to share together. 
Eddy had a sly smile forming on his face, one that Colette knew was going to lead to something she hated. “Hey, Anthony,” he calls.
Anthony perks up once he sees who calls his name, Colette telling herself that it was simply because he heard his name and he had ‘golden retriever vibes’ in general, not because he saw her, despite the fact that he was looking at her the entire time he came over. “What’s up, Ed?”
Eddy visibly swoons at the sound of Anthony calling him a nickname, trying to collect his composure before Anthony actually notices or Colette calls him out for it. “Lettie here said that she wanted to share a tent with someone since she’s never been camping before.”
“What?”
“Ok?”
“Well, I snore like a jet ski, so I would never want to subject our girl to that,” Eddy continues, throwing his arm around Colette and pulling her close to him, throwing her off balance, “So we were wondering if you wanted to share with her?”
“Oh!” Anthony says, his face turning red. Colette tries to discreetly pinch Eddy’s side as payback, her heart racing as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I was going to ask you that anyway, but I guess you beat me to it.” 
Eddy walks away without another word, leaving an angry Colette and an embarrassed Anthony behind in his wake. “He’s lying, I’m fine on my own if you don’t-”
“You don’t-” he cuts her off, looking down at the ground, “You don’t want to share a tent?”
“No, I mean,” she starts, trying to find the right words. How do you tell someone you want to be near them without it sounding weird? “If you want to, I wouldn't say no to sharing.”
“Oh, I want to,” he says quickly, a small laugh escaping his lips that matched Colettes. “I want to.”
Colette could feel her face getting hot as she smiled at him. “Let’s go set up our tent?”
Their friends wander off again, just like the day they met at the beach, as the day wore on, leaving Anthony and Colette to finish setting up where they were going to start their fire for the night. 
“Hold on,” Colette says, trying not to laugh so hard that she couldn’t get the words out, “She threw what?”
“A dildo.”
“So that photo you sent me of your black eye from last season?”
Anthony’s face was bright red, biting his lip and nodding, “Yeah. yeah, it wasn’t from practice. It was from Tamsin throwing a dildo at me when she thought I was breaking into our apartment.”
Colette cackled, the ugliest sounding laugh she had ever heard bubbling up from her stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
“Like you’ve never had any embarrassing encounters with an ex.”
“The worst I’ve had is a guy named Mason sprinkled packets of those instant mashed potatoes around the lawn outside my apartment complex after a bad break up when we were in college.”
“How’d you know it was him?”
“He texted me right before it rained asking if I liked mashed potatoes, and then I never heard from him again.” 
Anthony laughs, the voice in Colette's head telling her that she wanted to hear that sound as much as she could. They keep talking about nothing as the sun sets, starting the fire before it gets too dark out.
“So,” Anthony says, sitting down on one of the chairs, the shadows from the flames illuminating every Colette had been mesmerized by the first time they met. “We’ve got Dildo Throwing Tamsin and Mashed Potato Mason as our exes.” 
“I think they’d like each other,” she laughs, plopping down on a chair next to him. Colette looks up to the sky. The stars streaked the sky like nothing she had ever seen before. She knew there were millions of stars up there, but she never thought she would see them. “God, you never get to see the stars with all the city lights. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” she hears Anthony say, his face red yet again when she turns her attention to him and smiles. Before she can say anything, he starts, “Do you think we can see each other?”
“Do you think I’m imaginary or something?”
“No, I mean,” he starts, the sounds of their friends coming back to start eating making him jump. He pulls his chair so close to Colette’s they practically overlap as he lowers his voice. “Can we go out when we’re back in the city? Just the two of us?”
Colette felt her face getting hot again, charmed by the nerves he showed around her. “Yes.” 
a mirror with an outline of a head in it, no face
“What are you doing right now?”
“I’m getting ready for work.”
“Do you want to hang out?”
“Did you not hear me?” 
Colette hears Anthony laugh on the other end of the phone. “I heard you, but I still want to hang out. I miss you.”
Colette cringed as she felt her heart skip a beat. She hated that she missed him too, and she wanted to see him, but, “I have to leave in the next two minutes if I want to be on time for my meeting, I can’t. What about tonight?”
“We have a home game at seven tonight. Tomorrow morning?”
“I’m watching my cousin and taking him to his soccer game for my aunt tomorrow.”
“What time?”
“You’re not coming to watch pee wee soccer.”
“What time are you leaving to pick him up?”
“You’re really bad at listening,” Colette says, grabbing the last of her stuff as she heads out the door. 
“What time?” he repeats, clearly not going to stop until she gives him an answer as she rushes out the door. 
“I don’t remember. Can I let you know after work tonight?” 
“Sure. Talk later?” he asks, alarm bells going off in Colette’s head about something she was sure he was scheming.
He hangs up before he can say anything, leaving Colette to stew as to what he was going to do. Anthony wasn’t going to show up at her apartment when she was supposed to leave to get her cousin, was he?
“Why do you look like that?” Addison asks once she sees Colette at work. 
Colette snaps out of the trance she didn’t realize she was in, looking away from her computer for the first time in a while. “I don’t know, genetics?” she asks, a slightly offended tone in her voice. 
“No, I mean,” she says, sitting down on Colette’s desk. “You look concerned.”
Colette shakes her head. “I was just working,” she says, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. She lets out a sigh. “Anthony was really adamant about hanging out.”
“Oh, no,” she says, fake concern dripping through her voice as Colette rolls her eyes. “The guy you’re dating wants to see you.” 
“He was kind of weird about it, though. He wanted to come over this morning, and I think he wants to hang out tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s not weird.”
“I’m watching Grayson tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And he knows that.”
“So?”
Colette rolls her eyes again out of frustration for herself. Why couldn’t she explain how she felt to her friend? “So we just saw each other, like, two nights ago. Isn’t it too soon to see each other again?”
Addison shakes her head. “Don’t you want to see him?”
“Well, yeah, but what if he’s only asking to see me because he knows I want to see him and he doesn’t actually want to see me? I have to take Grayson to his soccer game. That’s so boring. Why would he want to do that?”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Because he’s obsessed with you?”
Colette groans. “Don’t you have a meeting in a minute?”
The next morning, Colette wakes up to knocking on her door. She gets up, surprised to find Anthony standing on the other side of the door with coffees in hand. “What are you doing here?” she whines.
“You never texted me,” he tells her, pushing past her and heading to her room.
“I, uh,” she hesitates. “Sorry, I forgot.” 
Anthony sets the coffees down on her nightstand, pulling up her sheets as if he was going to start making her bed. “No you didn’t.” 
“I did,” Colette tells him, her voice sounding more sure of her lie. 
“You just didn’t text me.” 
“Look, I love taking Grayson to his soccer games when my aunt can’t, but they’re really boring for other people. Last time I took Eddy, he complained the entire time,” she explains, taking the coffee from him. “I didn’t think you’d really want to sit through that.” Colette starts to get ready, sitting in front of the mirror in her room to get her hair together. 
She makes eye contact through the glass with Anthony as he sits down on her now made bed. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” 
a cartoon cinnamon bun
Anthony had his arms around Colette before they were even through the door, pinning her against the wall outside her apartment, his lips on hers. They had been like this since they were in the bar with the rest of their friends, them being teased that they needed to get a room. Since Anthony’s eyes got darker when he turned to her, his hands on her waist as he asked her who’s place was closer for them to get in a bed as soon as possible. 
They barely made it through her door and had it shut when Anthony’s fingers danced along the hem of her shirt, pleading with her to take it off and practically ripping his off at the same time. Anthony and Colette stumbled their way to her bed, nearly losing contact with each other when they collapsed onto her mattress, skin to skin and Colette already deliriously happy. 
They woke up the next morning, the sheets a mess, their clothing in a trail leading from her entryway to her bed. Colette’s phone was somehow on her nightstand next to her, buzzing continuously for what seemed like any hour. Anthony let out a groan, a result of the hangover he was probably feeling. 
“Don’t get it,” he mumbles into her pillow, his arm wrapped around her pulling her closer. She could feel herself relax as his heartbeat gently thumped against her back. It buzzes again, Anthony starting to kiss his way from the nape of her neck down her spine, a giggle escaping her lips at his attempt to distract her.
“If it’s going off this much, it has to be something bad.”
“One time it was Eddy melting down and calling to tell you he got water on his new shoes.”
Colette scrolls through her phone, multiple missed calls from her friend group as Anthony’s mouth works his way back up to her neck, propping himself up to try to get her cheeks. Another call from Eddy appears on her screen, her heart racing that something bad happened to one of her friends. 
“Hello?”
“Oh my god,” Eddy screams, “I thought Anthony murdered you.” 
Anthony and Colette laugh, Colette switching over to speaker phone even though Anthony had no problem hearing their conversation without it. “No, we were asleep. What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been praying to God all morning that you were ok.”
“Eddy, it’s like 9 am, and you don’t believe in God.”
“I found God so I could pray that you were ok.”
“I didn’t realize she was lost, but sure. What’s wrong?”
“Your parents are on their way. They said they’d be at your place at 9 am.”
Colette looks at the time at the top of her screen: 8:56 am. 
“Fucking shit,” she screams, dropping her phone on her bed and practically falling over the sheets as she launched herself off the mattress to collect the clothes scattered around her floor. 
“What, what’s wrong?” Anthony calls after her, picking up what he can and throwing on the shirt that was still sitting by her front door. 
“My parents are coming.” 
“And?”
“You’re here.”
“Do you not want me here?”
Colette whips around to face him, thrusting his underwearing and pants from last night into his chest while trying to get her own shirt back over her head. “Of course, I do.” She runs past him and back into her room to throw clothes on and panic make her bed. “It’s just, you don’t have enough time to leave before they get here. And, if you’re here, then they’re going to start asking questions about whether or not you’re my boyfriend, and probably a bunch of other things, too.”
“Then we tell them I am,” Colette hears, seeing Anthony appear on the other side of her bed to help her straighten up. 
She stops, standing straight up to stare at him. “What?”
“We tell them I’m your boyfriend.” He walks around to the other side of her bed to meet her. “Unless, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend.” 
Colette opens her mouth, no words coming out. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Anthony throws his head back in laughter, pulling her in for a hug and kissing the top of her head. “Of course I do.” Colette gives him a kiss, a knock at her door pulling them apart. “You get more clothes on, I’ll go meet your parents.”
Colette scrambles to find something presentable enough for her parents liking, trying her best to fix her hair and the makeup that she never took off from the night before when she hears laughter coming from her kitchen. She finally comes out of her room, her mom’s hand over Anthony’s while her dad is animated talking to him, a pink bag from her favorite bakery near their house on the table filling the room with the scent of the cinnamon buns that made her mouth water. 
“Sweetie, we brought you some breakfast, but we didn’t know you had your boyfriend over,” her mom says, no hint of the fakeness Colette expected in her voice. 
“Why don’t we all go out for breakfast?” Anthony says, getting up from his seat, “My treat. Colette and I can have the cinnamon buns later.”
Her mother swoons as he takes her hand and leads her to the door, a wink from Anthony sent Colette’s way that made her cheeks burn. 
Her dad pulls her in for a hug, his arm around her shoulder as they follow Anthony and her mom down to his car. “Boyfriend, huh? Is he good enough for you?”
Colette hesitates, not sure why she did so before saying, “I think so.”
What if she wasn’t good enough for him?
a phone with an incoming call, no contact on the screen
“Franco, please, you’re giving me a headache,” Addison groans, her hands on her head to massage the headache away.
“No, I don’t care, you guys don’t understand how amazing she was.”
“We do, babe, I promise, but it’s 1 am,” Devyn tells him, giving him a gentle squeeze on his thigh. 
“No, you don’t get it. She has only lost the all-around once on the national and international level in the eleven years she’s been qualified for elite,” Franco argues back, launching into a rant about Simone Biles that none of them wanted to hear when they wanted to go to sleep.
Eddy groans the loudest. “I think you talk this much about your fiance,” he points out Devyn taking a minute before she realized he was right and giving Franco a glare. 
The rest of the group launches into an argument when Colette’s phone rings, Anthony’s name coming up with a picture of the two of them from one night when they fell asleep on the couch together. Eddy had taken the photo and immediately gotten a bucket of water to pour over them to wake them up because he wanted to go out and get food with someone. Despite the aftermath of the photo, seeing it made her smile every time.
“Hey,” she says, walking out of Devyn and Franco’s living room without her friends noticing. “How was the game?”
“We won,” Anthony tells her. They were on a west coast road trip that was supposed to end tomorrow with a game against Seattle. 
“Why do you sound so sad, then?” Colette asks. Before they left, he told her they needed to do well this road trip in order to get into the wild card spot since the playoffs were right around the corner. They needed this win to get the cap between them and the next team even wider.
He lets out a long sigh. “I didn’t really play that well or that much.”
Colette could hear the sadness in his voice. She knew that he had been bouncing around to a few teams in the last couple of years, finally finding what he hoped was a more permanent home in Pittsburgh. “Did anyone score while you were on the ice?”
“No.”
“Did you get an assist or score?”
“Two assists, yeah.”
“Then what happened?”
She knew Anthony was scrunching his face. “I don’t know, I just felt off.”
Colette nodded. “I get that.” Anthony lets out a long breath. “Are you guys leaving after the game tomorrow or the next morning?”
“I actually don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when I’m on the plane,” he jokes, Colette laughing. “I can come over whenever I get in?”
“Yeah,” she says, smiling at the thought of seeing him. “If it’s tomorrow night, just wake me up when you come in.” 
“Nah, I’ll let you sleep,” he says.
“No,” she argues, “I want to see you.” Eddy comes up behind her, making kissing noises at her. 
“Tell Eddy I can hear him,” he laughs, Colette following suit. Anthony lets out a yawn. “Ok, I’m gonna go.”
“Bye, babe.”
“I love you, bye,” he yawns, hanging up before she could say anything else. 
Colette stands there, staring at her phone with her mouth hanging open. 
“What did he do? Do I have to kill him? I have enough gas in my car and money in my bank account to drive to San Jose and commit a felony,” Eddy starts, dragging her back into the living room with the rest of their friends.
“Lettie, what’s wrong?” Addison asks.
“Anthony just told me he loves me.”
The entire group’s jaws dropped, Eddy screaming loud enough that Colette was sure Devyn and Franco's neighbors could hear him. “What did you tell him?”
Colette shook her head. “Nothing. He said it and hung up the phone.”
“That rat bastard.”
“Eddy, say something helpful for once, please?”
Her friends start asking her a hundred questions, all coming at once. Why didn’t she call him back? Was she going to tell him she loved him? When was she going to tell him? When was she going to talk to him again in the first place?
Becca asked the question that made her stop. “Do you love him?”
Colette didn’t know what to say, trying to find the words. She knew she liked him, a lot. He was probably the person she could see herself loving for the rest of her life if he would let her. 
“We should let her tell Anthony first, not us,” Devyn says, Colette letting out a little bit of an exhale as her friend told everyone it was probably time for them to go to bed.
She spent the night on their couch, Becca and Addison in their guest room, Eddy bringing his own blow up mattress and snoring on the floor near Colette. 
She barely slept. Could she tell Anthony that she loved him? She could tell him anything, but if she did, would she mean it? It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would say it first, and it didn’t even surprise her that he said it at all. What shocked her most was that she wasn’t sure what she would say back. 
Anthony was the kindest person to her, the one she wanted to call and see and be with all the time. She would do anything for him, but did that mean she loved him?
What if her love wasn’t enough? What if he ended up loving her more than she was capable of loving him? 
“Eddy,” she whispers, trying not to scare him into waking up. She throws her pillow over to his mattress, hitting his face.
“The fish escaped,” he says, startled out of whatever his dream was. He rubs his eyes, groaning. “I was just about to save the country from the dinosaur fish.”
“You can go back to that in a minute,” Colette says, turning on the lamp on the end table next to her, despite Eddy’s groans. “When you were with Alex, how did you feel when you said ‘I love you.’”
“I think I was drunk and then blacked out.” Colette groans. “Lettie, if you’re freaking out about telling him you love him, then you don’t have to tell him right now. It’s ok for you to not say it if you aren’t comfortable with it.”
“That was out of character for you.”
“A stopped clock is right once a day.”
“Twice, Eddy.”
“Whatever, I’m going back to sleep. I hope this dream lets me play with kittens instead.”
Colette spent the next day stressing, running on pure anxiety due to her lack of sleep the night before. She hadn’t been able to watch Anthony’s game that night, falling asleep before it even started. She woke up Saturday morning to the sound of someone coming in her front door, hoping that it was Anthony and not an intruder.
“Colette?” Anthony calls, wandering into her bedroom to find her just sitting up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “It’s nearly two pm, are you just waking up?”
“Don’t judge, I couldn’t sleep the other night. I guess it just caught up with me now.”
“I feel like I freaked you out after the game against San Jose,” Anthony says, sitting down. They had barely talked the day before, Colette purposely avoiding him under the guise of being busy all day with something at work. It wasn’t technically a lie, she just also hid her phone in her desk and forgot about it on purpose.
“No, you di-” she starts.
“I do mean it, though,” he says, pulling her in for a hug. “I do love you.”
Colette felt her heart start to race as she felt his hand on the back of her head. She could say it. She was sure it felt right. “Anthony,” she starts, feeling herself start to sweat as she pulls away to look at him. “I love you, too.” 
Anthony smiles, kissing her.
Saying it felt just fine. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel more. 
wheel of fortune tarot card
Colette was exhausted. 
The entire last week was spent with her and Anthony unpacking all the things they had into their new apartment, trying to figure out what to get rid of and what to keep when they realized that consolidating their things meant they now had two of everything they needed to share with each other; two sets of silverware, two sets of plates and bowls, two bedroom sets, two sets of living room furniture. 
Anthony was willing to get rid of anything he needed to, but Colette was having a harder time going through her things. She didn’t mind sharing, but she wanted her own stuff. What if she, for whatever reason, had to move out, or if Anthony got traded and had to take stuff with him and left her with nothing because the stuff he took was technically “his” and not her own?
“Hey, babe,” she calls into the apartment, a little bit of an echo following her through the few rooms they hadn’t finished unpacking yet. 
“In here,” Colette hears, following Anthony’s voice into their bedroom. He was standing in front of the bookshelf he had built into the wall (by someone who knew what they were doing, not by him), putting up all the books she had brought from her old place.
“I told you I would organize these,” she told him, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, kissing his back. “I have a system.”
Anthony laughs, spinning around and hugging her back, kissing her on the lips. “Your system is ‘I have a bunch of books by this author, so they need to be together.’”
“And?”
“I’m not even touching your books yet,” he points out, turning her attention to all the boxes she left in the corner that were still, in fact, untouched. “These are my books.”
“I didn’t know you read.”
“Not all hockey players are illiterate, Colette,” he jokes, earning a laugh from her.
“No, I mean,” she starts, heading over to one of her boxes to start trying to organize them. “I know you normally don’t have time to do things other than, like, eat, sleep, and play hockey. Reading didn’t seem like something you had time for.”
“Well, you read a lot, so I thought I could do the same,” he tells her, his voice lower than normal. Colette looks up at the shelf he was putting books on; The Familiar by Leigh Bardugo and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn amongst other books she loved and already had copies of sitting there on their own shelf. 
“I already have these, you could have borrowed them at any time,” she points out, feeling Anthony’s arms around her, his chin resting on the top of her head. 
“Yeah, but this way I can take them with me on the road and you’d still have your copies. I’d have a piece of you with me.”
What piece of him would she have with her while he was gone? She couldn’t think of anything as he spun her around in his arms to kiss her, feeling his smile against her lips while all she could feel was distress coursing through her.
a laundry basket full of clothes with a piece of clothing crumpled up in front of it
“What the hell?” Colette comes home from work to find that everything Anthony said he was going to get done was not done. He had promised he would get everything cleaned up before his friends came over tomorrow. “Anthony?”
Her boyfriend peers his head into the kitchen where she was standing, a smile on his face immediately fading when he sees the anger on hers. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, oh shit,” she says, gesturing around her. “This is the third day in a row that you said you would clean up.”
“I’m sorry, I got caught up.” He tells her, approaching her slowly, as if she were a tiger going to pounce on him with any sudden movement. “I’ll start now.”
Colette scoffs as he reaches out to her. He did this all the time. He would tell her that he would help her clean, especially when more than half of it was his mess to begin with, and then it always fell on her. “That’s not the point, Anthony,” she snaps at him.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t. You tell me that every time you do this. You said you would help with the laundry, and look at where all the clothes are, not even in the basket still sitting on front of the washer and dryer where you left them two days ago,” she starts, gesturing to the mountain of dirty clothes she could see in their little laundry alcove that she swore she could smell from where she was standing. “The dishes from dinner on Monday are still here because you promised me after I cooked that you would clean them, but you disappeared instead and didn’t come home until after I went to bed. You have your coffee cup sitting on the table with coffee in it that I’m pretty sure is from at least three days ago. What the fuck is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly, his face getting red as he turns towards the sink to start the dishes. “And, to be fair, you do this to me all the time. I come home from road trips and find you haven’t taken out the trash the entire time, or the dishwasher hasn’t been started. I’m sorry I forgot the last couple of days, but I’ve been busy.”
Colette bit her lip, knowing he was right. She was picking a fight with him they didn’t need to have, yet here she was anyway. “With what?”
“My job?” he says, shrugging, despite the slightest hint of a wavering going through his voice. It wasn’t just hockey. They were in the middle of a homestand and he had the day off today anyway. 
Colette studies him for a second. “You’re lying to me,” she tells him. She could tell he tensed up from behind, the way he does when he’s not telling her the truth about something.
“I’m not.”
“Then what has been going on with you?”
Anthony hesitates, shaking his head and opening his mouth, clearly trying to figure out what to tell her. “Nothing. Like I said, I just got caught up.”
“With what?”
“Mat needed some help with something.” 
Colette scoffed again, walking out of the kitchen and to their bedroom. She knew Anthony was following her, but shut the door behind her anyway. “Why would Mat need your help so urgently that he, on Long Island, needed to take you away from cleaning for the entire day here in Pittsburgh?” she asks, sitting on their bed as he opens the door back up.
“I can’t tell you that, it’s Mat’s business.”
Colette nods, knowing he was still lying. She pulls out her phone, pulling up her boyfriend's best friend's contact. “Hey,” she says when he picks up, seeing the wave of panic flash in Anthonys eyes as he pulled out his phone and started typing furiously on his own phone. She knew he was texting Mat. “Have you heard from Anthony today?”
“Uh, no, why?” Mat says, Anthony throwing his head back, sucking on his teeth and muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath. 
“He just seemed a little off this morning when I left for work, I thought maybe hearing from you would cheer him up a little,” she lies to him.
“Oh, sure?” Mat tells her clearly confused before they hang up with each other.
“I can explain,” Anthony starts, sitting next to her on the bed and putting his hands in her lap. 
Colette waits for a moment. “Then do it.”
“Tomorrow, I promise.” 
She lets out a laugh. “No, now.”
“I can’t.” 
Colette stares at him for a second, him still not looking directly at her but a pleading look in his eyes. “Are you cheating on me?”
Anthony finally looks at her. “What? Of course not.”
“Then what the hell is going on?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Anthony, you know everything about me. I tell you everything,” she says, looking around at the room they shared that he filled with her favorite things. She still hadn’t figured out what she would do for him. She could feel herself starting to panic, a year since they moved in together and she still barely knew anything about him. Colette shakes her head, looking down at his hands still in her lap. “We can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“If we want to be in a relationship like this, we have to tell each other what’s going on,” she lies. She couldn’t do this anymore. 
“I told you, I can tell you tomorrow.”
“What is so important that you can’t tell me now?” she asks, getting up from the bed and starting to pace. Her mind started spiraling, thinking the absolute worst of what he could be hiding from her. She was self destructing, and blaming it on him was the easier way out. She knew it was. “You’re cheating on me, you’re going to break up with me, you have a child you haven’t told me about, you’re dying or you’re seriously sick.”
“Hey woah,” Anthony says, stopping her and standing in front of her. He puts his hands on her shoulders. “Colette, why don’t you trust me?”
Colette stares at him for a second, trying to find her words. “I don’t know.” 
Anthony’s expression drops, his hands sliding down her arms as he shakes his head. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me like this.” 
Colette tries to hide the hurt that came with his statement. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t tell me the truth when I ask him for it.” The two of them stare at each other for a few moments in silence. “Does that mean we’re done?”
Anthony nods, his eyes not reaching Colette’s again. “I think so.” 
a glass looking liquor bottle with a small amount of liquid inside, a solo cup on its side tipped over in front of it
The guy in front of Colette was so cute. At least, he was cute enough to flirt with while she was drunk and still wanting more drinks she didn’t want to pay for. The cup of rum and coke in her drink never seemed to empty for long enough with him standing there with her.
She wasn’t even sure what his name was. She wasn’t sure she cared what his name was.
She was pretending to listen to him while twirling a lock of her hair in her fingers, trying her best to make it look like she was intrigued so that he would get her a refill of her almost empty drink. It wasn’t how she normally flirted, but it was working for him, so why not? 
“Lettie, babe, come on,” she hears Anthony behind her, his hands wrapping themselves around her waist and pulling her ever so slightly towards him. 
A month ago, she would have done anything to feel his body against hers like this. 
Now, she wanted nothing more than to get out of his arms. 
“Anthony,” she tries to fight.
“This your bodyguard?” the guy asks her, looking incredibly pissed off. 
“Boyfriend,” Anthony corrects him.
The guy scoffs, running his hands through his hair. “Nice.” He walks away despite her protests, not listening to her as she tries to pry herself free of Anthony’s grasp. 
He laughs, leading her back to their friends. Colette sits down, a now empty cup in front of her since she didn’t get that last refill that she wanted. None of her friends noticed her not participating in their conversation, her anger toward Anthony increasing along with her sobriety.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” she stands abruptly, nearly knocking over the table holding all of their drinks. 
Anthony gets up with her, Colette not hearing him say, “I’m gonna turn in too, I’ll walk her home,” before she pushes her way out of the bar and into the muggy air outside.  
“I don’t know how you could stand there and let him flirt with you when you made it pretty clear that you weren’t even interested in him,” Anthony whines, not noticing how annoyed she was with him. He was acting like a hero when he shouldn’t have been. “I mean, I can’t believe I had to step in and help you.”
“You didn’t,” she snaps at him, catching him off guard. “I was interested in him. He was nice. He was buying me drinks. That’s why he was flirting with me, because I was flirting with him.”
Colette thought that they were actually going to be friends, like they said they would be. They had been out together since they broke up. They had hung out with their friends in the exact same setting and had the exact same scenario happen but without this ending to the night. There was no reason why he should have stepped all over her like that to ‘save her,’ as he put it. 
“What? Oh, come on, I know how you act when you’re flirting with a guy.”
“Do you?” she asks him, followed by him giving her a confident, ‘yes.’ “Really? So what do I do?”
“You, you,” he starts, knowing that he dug himself into a hole. “You smile at him, you laugh at everything he says, even if it isn’t funny. You run your hands through your hair because you know that fucking collar bone of yours drives me crazy.” He stops, both of them shocked that he just said that. That isn’t how she flirts with anyone, that’s how she acted around him when they were together. “Fuck.”
“Anthony, you cannot keep doing this. We broke up,” she starts, not adding that it was her fault, even though she still felt like it was. “Stop interfering when I’m with another guy.”
“I’m just trying to protect you,” he tries to defend himself.
“From what? From who? What could you possibly be protecting me from? Other guys? Why, Anthony?”
“Fuck, Colette, you think it’s easy watching you flirt with another guy? Just because we broke up, that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you,” he spits out.
Colette stands there, trying to process what he just told her. She could feel her heart racing, the sound of it beating the only thing she could hear. “I didn’t know you still loved me.”
Anthony scoffs, looking down at the ground, shaking his head. “Of course I did. I do. You haven’t noticed that I haven’t looked at another girl since we broke up? I want you, and only you.”
“I didn’t,” she tells him. “Anthony, you’re just saying this because you’re drunk.”
Anthony raises an eyebrow, shaking his head and biting his lip. “Look, I might be. But I know that drunk or not, I cannot sit around and watch you flirt with every guy in existence, while you, the one who was supposed to be my best friend, didn’t even notice that I was miserable while it was happening.”
“What do you want from me?” she snaps. “What am I supposed to do? We tried. We didn’t work. As much as we both wanted to, we did not work.” 
They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. He had to know it was her fault they broke up. It wasn’t mutual, not really.
“I guess, nothing,” he tells her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Nothing at all.” He looks down at the ground and lets out a long sigh. “I’ll see you at the wedding,” is the last thing Anthony says to her before turning on his heels, leaving Colette alone on the sidewalk. 
a ring, not on the ring finger
“Devyn really picked the worst shade of blue she could find for these dresses, didn’t she?” Devyn’s youngest sister, Blake, complains to the rest of the bridesmaids.
Devyn had just stepped out of the room to do her first look with Franco, leaving the girls alone to finish getting ready. 
“She picked sapphire,” Becca said.
“You know,” Colette continues. “Her birthstone?”
“She should have picked a lighter blue. This dark blue totally clashes with my skintone.”
“Blake,” Kendall, her other sister scolds her, “Devyn didn’t give a fuck about your skintone when she picked her favorite color. Either you’re wearing the dress without complaint or I’m telling mom and you’re not in the wedding.”
The sisters keep bickering, Addison, Becca, and Colette slowly moving away from them. 
“I always forget that Blake is still in high school,” Addison says, grabbing her bouquet before checking her makeup one last time.
“I don’t know how you could when she’s constantly tagging Devyn in her posts,” Colette points out.
“Especially the ones she’s not even in.” 
“To increase her visibility,” Colette starts, reciting word for word what Blake had tried to explain to them during Devyn’s bachelorette party. “So she has more people who know her brand when she becomes famous.” 
“Teenagers make no sense,” Devyn appears, a nervous look on her face. “I think we’re almost ready to start.”
“What’s wrong?” Addison asks.
“Colette, we have a problem.” 
“What did I do?”
“Sebby thinks Becca is hot and wants to walk down the aisle with her.”
Colette could feel the color draining from her face at the realization of what this switch would mean for her.
“Is he Franco’s older or younger brother?” Becca asks.
“The older one.”
Becca turns to Colette. “I’m not coming back to the hotel room tonight,” she tells her, practically giddy. “Oh, wait.”
“That means Colette has to walk with-” Addison starts.
“Anthony,” the four girls say at the same time. 
“I’ll be fine,” Colette says, her voice noticeably higher than it should be. She clears her throat, trying to calm herself considering the last time she talked to Anthony was the night he told her he loved her. “I’m fine.”
Devyn’s wedding planner, Jax, comes over to tell them it’s time to line up to enter with the groomsmen. 
“I love you,” Devyn calls after her bridesmaids, all of them calling back to her the same sentiment. 
Colette nearly stops breathing when she sees Anthony in his suit, helping Eddy adjust his tie. The suit fit him perfectly, Colette silently cursing the fact that Franco picked dark gray as the color. She hated to admit that she still thought about that one suit of his that he wore on game day, one that looked identical to the one he had on now. 
“Hi,” she says, standing next to him, trying to not look at him. 
“Hi,” he repeats, staring straight ahead at the back of Eddy’s neck.
The music starts, both of them rigid while everyone else around them is relaxed.
“I thought this would be us one day,” Anthony breaks their silence as the first couple starts to walk arm in arm down the aisle towards where Franco was already standing.
“What?” Colette asks, caught off guard.
Anthony nods, still staring in front of him as they move closer to the entrance of their venue. “I had the proposal all planned out. Had the ring. Had the reservation for dinner. Had a photographer. Everything. And then, the night before I was going to ask you, we broke up. That’s why I couldn’t tell you what was going on. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
Colette looks at him, not noticing that they were next to go down the aisle, Anthony taking Colette’s arm in his as Jax tells them to start walking. 
a candle with a long wick, uncut, the lid propped up against the glass
“Are you sure you’re ok to come to this?” Franco asks her.
Colette hesitates for a minute. She hadn’t seen him in months, so she wasn’t sure why she was being invited to his apartment. She hadn’t been to his place since he moved in over a year ago, and honestly, Colette hasn’t intended on going. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’ve looked like you were going to vomit since we picked you up for this?” Devyn twists her body from the front seat to face her. “We can take you back home if you want.”
Franco pulls up in front of Anthony’s new place, knowing that she couldn’t ask them now to turn around and drive the entire way to and from her place again. “No, I’ll be fine.”
Colette takes in a deep breath as Devyn and Franco get out of the car, leaving her behind in the back seat to stare up at the building they were all supposed to be heading into. There was no need for her to be this nervous. She and Anthony were friends. They talked still, occasionally. Maybe once a week. And the conversations were never more than half an hour long, just to check in, but that’s adult friendships.
Right?
She gets out of the car, jogging to catch up with her friends as they were already to the elevator. 
“You’re going to be ok, you know,” Devyn says, putting her arm around Colette.
“Yeah, we’ll kill him if you want us to.”
Devyn smacks her husband's chest with her free hand, scolding him as Colette laughs. 
She could do this. 
They make their way up to Anthony’s place, getting turned around and somehow ending up two floors above where they were supposed to be, thanks to Franco not being able to read a text message properly and upsetting one of Anthony’s elderly building neighbors. By the time they find his apartment, the place is full, their friends and Anthony’s taking up so much space they could barely move. Franco and Devyn break off from Colette, leaving her alone to scope the place out.
She wanders through his place, people in every single one of his rooms. She stumbles across what she assumes to be a guest room. It was way too neat to be Anthony’s own room, despite him always making her bed when they were together. 
Mat appears behind her, laughing at the sight of the room. “I guess it’s easy to figure out which room is Tito’s, huh?”
Colette lets out a small laugh. “I was just thinking that.” 
“How have you been?” he asks, sitting down on the bed. 
She goes to join him, sighing. “I’m at my ex’s place for the first time since we moved out of the place we got together. Clearly, I’m on top of the world.” 
“It could be worse.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs.
“Ok, what animal are you least afraid of?” Colette looks at him, confused by the non sequitur. “I’m trying to distract you.” 
“Fine, fine,” she rolls her eyes as he nudges her shoulder. “I guess fish?”
“No, I said an animal.”
“And I said a fish.”
“No, a real animal?”
“Are fish fake?”
“You can’t find a fish at a zoo. Have you heard of fish zoos?”
“Yeah, they’re called aquariums, you fucking walnut,” Colette tells him, laughing so hard she could feel pain in her sides.
“Oh. Oh, yeah,” Mat sits there for a second, looking down at his hands with a smirk on his face while Colette continues to laugh. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh that hard since you broke up with him.”
“This is the first time we’ve seen each other since before he and I broke up,” Colette points out once she catches her breath.
Mat sighs. “I don’t think he’s laughed as hard as you just did since you two broke up.” 
“Yeah, sure,” she says, not believing him. 
“Colette, you make him want to live as long as possible so he can have as much time sharing the planet with you as he can. He has all of your favorite things in his Notes App on his phone that he will not delete. That one picture I took of you guys way back when we all met is still one of his lock screens, again that he won’t delete. I mean, look around his whole place. You are in every corner.”
Colette shakes her head. “Come on.”
“Look at that bookcase,” Mat says, bringing her over to the other side of the room. A picture of Devyn and Franco’s wedding party is framed on one of the shelves, one where he is looking at her so lovingly that someone in passing would assume they were the ones getting married while she was looking at the camera if not for what they were wearing. Her favorite candle scents were still unlit, sitting on the shelf next to all the books she loved by Leigh Bardugo and Gillian Flynn, the same ones from when they first moved in together, their spines now noticeably more worn, the copies loved by someone who had to have read them multiple times. She picked up the copy of Ninth House, seeing his writing in it and comments saying things like ‘remember when you said this to me?’ or ‘this has to be your favorite scene because’ left unfinished. 
“He was writing these to me,” she realizes, not noticing Mat leaving the room.
“Of course I was,” Anthony says, her turning around so fast she loses her grasp on the book in her hands to send it falling to the floor. “I can’t really read these books anymore without thinking of you.”
“Why do you still have them all then?”
Anthony looks at the book on the floor. “How could I get rid of them?”
The two of them stand there in silence for what feels like forever. She wasn’t used to having Anthony in front of her and barely being able to find the words to say to him. She hated herself for losing him, but how could she have kept him? Colette takes in a deep breath. “We made a mistake breaking up, didn’t we?”
Anthony nods, shrugging. “Yeah, probably.” 
“I don’t think we could ever go back, either.” Anthony sighs, opening his mouth to say something when Colette cuts him off. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“I think I’m still in love with you, but we can’t be together. We don’t trust each other,” Colette hears herself say, shocked at the words that come out of her.
Anthony closes the distance between them, taking her in his arms and hugging her so fiercely she could barely breathe. “I still love you, too.” 
The two of them pull apart, both of them crying. They knew what this was for them.
“God, this sucks,” Anthony laments.
 “It’s kind of amazing, though, isn’t it?”
“What?” Anthony asks, shock in his voice.
“How lucky we are that we got to love each other so much, that a simple goodbye could feel as devastating as this.”
two sets of eyes, one opened set, one closed set
“Don’t panic,” Addison says, Eddy rolling his eyes behind her.
“Yeah, because only good things come from people saying that,” Colette says, handing her friends the drinks she bought them. Becca was somewhere with Devyn and Franco, the six of them out together for one of their increasingly rare nights when they could all be together without having to worry about anything outside the building they were in. 
“She thinks she saw some of Anthony’s teammates,” Eddy explains, guiding them back to the rest of their friends. 
Colette rolls her eyes, looking back to her friend who had already downed more than half her drink. She knew that Addison had a drunken habit of mistaking strangers for people she actually knew, or thought she knew. Just because she thought she saw some of his teammates, that didn’t actually mean anything. “I think we can save the panic for when we know we see him, instead.” 
“You’re already panicking about seeing him again?” Becca asks, overhearing only the last part of the conversation as they arrive back at the table. 
“We are talking about different people,” Colette says. “I was just with Carter last night.”
“That’s, what, almost every night that’s he’s not away for the last five months that you’ve spent the night together, isn’t it?” Devyn asks, stirring her drink with her straw.
“Yeah,” Colette sighs.
“Oh, no,” Franco groans.
“You guys seem really in to each other.” Becca points out.
“I mean, physically, it’s great. But, he just,” Colette starts, trying to figure out what to say. She knew exactly what bothered her; it was why she broke up with Anthony in the first place. “He doesn’t really know me.” 
“Holy shit,” Eddy says, nearly choking on his drink. The group follows his gaze to see that Addison was right; Anthony’s teammates were there at the bar, but so was Anthony. 
Not only was he there, but he had his arm around a girl, guiding her through the place to see if they could find an open table, the only one close to them being the one right next to them. 
“You make it worse if you freak out,” Devyn scolds him.
“Hi,” Anthony says when he sees her, standing right next to their table. 
“Hey, bud,” Eddy greets him, Franco punching him in the arm for the over enthusiasm. 
“We’re going to go get more drinks,” Becca says, all of Colette’s friends grabbing their clearly new drinks in front of them and excusing themselves from the table. 
Anthony awkwardly chuckles as they all leave, just him and Colette alone for the first time in what felt like forever. “So they haven’t changed.”
Colette felt a pit in her stomach. “You didn’t have to stop talking to them because we don’t talk that much. I mean, you were in Devyn and Franco’s wedding.”
Anthony nods, taking a sip of his drink before setting it down on the table in front of her. He was still standing awkwardly, Colette knowing that he wouldn’t ask to sit down with her. “Talking to them made me think about talking to you.”
The two of them sit in an awkward silence for a moment. 
“So who was-”
“I saw you-” they start to say at the same time, both of them letting out a laugh in hopes it would calm them down.
“You first,” Colette tells him.
“I saw you started seeing someone,” he brings up, leaning against the table as he looks down at his drink, a sad smile on his face.
Colette cringes, nodding. She forgot she still had him on her private story. “Yeah, but it won’t last much longer.”
“Oh.”
“I saw you were here with someone?” she asks, gesturing to the girl who was with his teammates.
Anthony looks over, waving at his friends and the girl. “That’s Mat’s little sister. She’s just here to visit.”
“So are you seeing anyone?”
Anthony shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” Colette hears herself say, gesturing to him to sit down next to her.
He waves her off, taking the seat previously occupied by Franco across from her. “It’s fine. I’ll find someone else eventually.”
“No, I mean,” Colette starts, taking in a deep breath and trying to figure out what to say after all these years of not saying what she wanted to. What she should have said. They both knew they had already found each other and they let it go too soon. “I’m sorry for ending things. I’m sorry for being the reason everything fell apart. I’m sorry I didn’t show you how much I love you the way you showed me.”
Anthony looks up from his drink, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“You knew everything about me. You have my favorite books, you always knew exactly what I wanted to get when we went out to dinner before I had the chance to tell you, you know my mood based on the smallest things I do. You showed me you love me with everything. I didn’t do that for you.” 
Anthony gives her a sad smile. “You always showed me you loved me.”
“Not the way you did. I feel like I knew nothing about you the way you knew me.”
Anthony shakes his head. “You know me better than I know myself.” Colette starts to shake her head, about to dispute him when he cuts her off. “If I had a bad game, you always had a cup of tea ready for me when I got home with a note telling me how you knew I’d be fine next game. You never tried to minimize how I felt after a game and listened to everything I told you. If I had to get up early for practice or to leave for a road trip, you had my coffee ready for me before I was even awake sitting on the nightstand waiting for me, even if you hadn’t slept great the night before. I’d open my bag and find the notes you wrote for me hidden in my suit pockets so I’d have them with me in the locker room. You still text me after games to tell me you’re proud of me. You think you didn’t show me you loved me? I’ve never felt more loved by anyone before meeting you.”
“I didn’t think those things meant anything.”
“They meant everything.”
I love you
Colette walks into the studio, paper in hand. She had booked yet another appointment with her favorite artist, Eleni, months ago, going back and forth as to what she wanted. Her left arm was covered in a series of small tattoos as it was, enough space right at the start of her forearm for one last small tattoo. 
“Hey, Let,” Eleni greets her.
“Hi, Len,” she smiles back, handing her the piece of paper.
“You want the words, ‘I love you?’” Eleni asks, eyebrow cocked. Colette swallows, knowing that this was the last thing she wanted on her arm. “Whose writing is this? I know it’s not yours.”
“Anthony’s,” Colette admits after what felt like too long of a silence for it to be anyone else's. 
“Are you sure you want this?” 
Colette forces out a laugh. “Every tattoo on my arm relates to him in some way, you know that. You put them all there. The book with the sun, the solo cup, the wheel of fortune. Might as well finish it off with how we feel about each other.” 
Eleni takes in a deep breath, getting Colette ready for her tattoo. “I don’t get why you two aren’t together.”
Colette sighs. “I fucked up. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix it. Not in a way that matters, anyway.” Eleni gives her a sad look, Colette shaking her head and waving it off. “Besides, just because you think you’re ‘meant to be’ with someone, doesn’t mean you’ll actually ‘be.’” 
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