emmy :)

First, getting what you think you wanted can horribly backfire on you.

Second, the best things can sometimes be what you had right in front of you.

Finally, but most important, he was a complete and total fucking idiot.

The cold, hollow ache in Dean’s chest seemed to be taking up permanent residency. It was hard to wake up every morning and not see your sleeping face beside him in bed, snuggled up to him for warmth despite his many blankets. Days felt endlessly depressing, dragging on with no purpose.

He’d gotten everything he wanted. He had his original girl back, hockey was going great, and the world was at his fingertips.

So why did he feel so empty?

You, on the other hand, had completely turned over a new leaf.

After the fated night where everything went to shit, you’d barely made it back to your dorm before collapsing on the futon in the living room in a heap of sobs. Your roommate Grace had heard the commotion, running out of her room to comfort you in the way only a best friend knew how to do.

You’d spent the following 3 days holed up in your bedroom, drowning in Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while swiping through pictures of the two of you together on your phone. You blocked Dean on social media and deleted his number from your contacts the morning after the breakup, but that didn’t deter his friends from sending various messages of apologies.

As the fourth consecutive day of your misery approached, Grace had enough. She stormed into your bedroom an hour before classes started, yanking your blanket off and turning on every light in the room.

You reached out in protest, instigating a one-sided battle of tug of war before giving up and curling back into yourself in defeat. “It’s no use, Grace. I’m a shell of who I used to be.”

“The hell you are.” She scoffed, searching through your closet before pulling out what you’d once deemed one of your best outfits. “I refuse to stand by and watch my best friend crash and burn like this.”

“Then just leave me here. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“Okay, respectfully, stand up. That man never wanted you; it’s time to show him you never needed him either.” Her voice softened as she laid the outfit on your bed, crouching so she was eye level with you. “You know I love you, Y/N/N. You’re my platonic soulmate. When you hurt, I hurt. I’m going to give it to you straight here- Dean Di Laurentis is the biggest, most pathetic excuse of a man. You’re too good for him.”

Your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to spill, but that was no deterrent for Grace.

“Wallowing in your bedroom only proves to him that you’re deeply affected by what happened. He isn’t worth shit and neither is Allie, so don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made the hottest catch on campus cry.”

She grabbed your hands, slowly pulling you out of bed. “Now, I want you to go take a shower, brush your teeth, put on some makeup if you want to, and get dressed to take on this day like the badass I know you are.”

Your heart was still broken, but as you made your way to the bathroom to prepare for the upcoming day with a deep breath and a newfound pep in your step, you felt a new sense of motivation.

Dean could have Allie. You’d find better and never settle again for anything less than you deserved.

Another day, another pounding headache and the deep regret of losing you still stuck to Dean’s heart.

He stood beside his friends in the courtyard, Allie glued to his side as usual. She’d tried a few times that morning to kiss him, which usually ended with him turning his head, so she’d catch his cheek instead or only giving a half-assed effort back.

How could he explain to her that whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw was you?

The muffled conversation around him suddenly sharpened back into focus when Garrett whispered out, “It’s her.”

Dean’s head whipped around, eager for even the slightest glimpse of you. When he eventually spotted you, his breath caught in his throat as he dropped Allie’s hand. You looked good.

No, scratch that. You looked better than good.

You looked incredible.

You had a subtle glow going on that radiated beauty, smile on your face as you chatted animatedly with Grace beside you. Dean was the opposite, with unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes proving that the breakup had done quite the number on him.

“Say something, man.” Tucker urged, slapping him in the ribs to get his attention.

Before he could respond, Logan beat him to it, calling out a simple “Hey, Y/N!”

Dean expected you to give some sort of acknowledgement, whether that be a hello back or a simple wave. Instead, his heart only cracked further as you sent them back a cool, unimpressed glare before turning back to your conversation and walking away.

Fuck, this was going to be brutal.

 A sharp knock sounded from the front door, interrupting Dean and Tucker’s heated video game hockey match. He hopped out, shouting a quick, “I got it!” before sprinting to the door, hoping it was you.

It was indeed you, standing in front of him holding a large box. His smile dropped as he noticed the contents inside, box being shoved into his hands before you turned and began to speedwalk right back down the stairs.

“Wait! Hey, let’s talk about what happened! Please.”

Your hand reached for your car door handle before you stopped, turning to face him head on.

“Mm, no.”

“Please baby, I’m trying really hard here. Do I need to beg to prove that I’m serious?”

You paused, contemplating the idea. “Okay, fine, get on your knees.”

Uncaring of the boys behind him who’d crept out of the house to view the spectacle, Dean dropped on both knees in the dirt, hands clasping together as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Come inside and talk to me. I miss you so, so much.”

You pretended to contemplate for a moment, noticing the guys snickering behind you. A smug sense of satisfaction came through you at his humiliation. “Yeah, still no.”

You got into your car, pausing only to start the engine before backing out and driving away without so much as a single glance in his direction. As the boys broke out into full laughter behind him, Dean rose up quickly from his knees, turning and shoving his way back into the house.

The bouquet of roses Dean clutched in his hand were wilting slightly from the intense grip he held on to them.

He knocked three times, heart hammering wildly in his chest as commotion sounded from the other side of the door. The knob twisted and he took a deep breath; smile plastered on his face as he prepared to greet you.

Except the face staring back at him certainly wasn’t yours. The hard, defined muscles on the smooth chest of the man in front of him alone proved so. Dean’s brain took a moment to process the man across from him, a chill running down his spine at the realization that this was no ordinary guy.

This was Hunter. Fucking. Davenport.

Hunter’s face went rigid, staring at Dean with the type of unimpressed glare that managed to get under his skin every single time.

“Did you get lost up here, pretty boy? Find another puck bunny to woo your way into bed with through those cheap roses?”

“I-I’m looking for Y/N.” Dean stuttered, at a loss for words for once in his life. Out of everyone you could’ve hooked up with, any lucky bastard on campus to be able to date you, you picked his archrival?

As if his words summoned your presence, you peeked around the corner that led to your bedroom. “Babe, what’s the holdup? Is it those sorority sisters again?”

You strolled forward toward the door, sunlight from the window behind you making you look even more otherworldly. What was worst for Dean, though, was that you looked truly happy. Like you’d finally made your peace with the breakup and moved on, unlike him.

“I swear, they won’t leave me alone about rushing- oh. Dean.”

The soft smile and lightness to your tone vanished upon seeing him, which only further proved to Dean that he’d well and truly fucked up. You were wearing a shirt that undoubtedly belonged to Hunter, only making him feel worse.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, these are for you.” He thrust the bouquet of now sad-looking flowers into your hand. “Just wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you every day.”

“Yeah, and apparently thinking about Allie, too.” Hunter’s not-so-quiet mumble went straight through Dean’s ego.

“The fuck did you just say, Davenport?”

Noticing the growing tension, you stepped between the two, acting as a barrier of sorts before any physical contact started. “Alright, boys, that’s enough.” You turned, attention fixing solely at Dean. “I think you should leave.”

“Well, I’d like to stay. I just think we have more to talk about.”

“There is nothing left to talk about.” You hissed.

Hunter’s hand traveled down your arm, grabbing your hand as he tugged you lightly toward him. “C’mon, baby, breakfast is getting cold.”

Without another word, you turned, walking back into your dorm room. As the door slammed in his face, Dean swore he saw you toss the roses into the garbage bin. His heart only broke further, desperate to get back into your good graces in any way shape or form.

You wanted to play a game, Y/N Y/L/N? Game on.

For the next month, all his attempts to win you back failed miserably. You wouldn’t talk to him or his friends, phone calls, letters, and mail remained unanswered, and every expensive gift he attempted to send would end up right back on his doorstep, unopened.

Allie sat beside him on the couch, desperately trying to grab his attention as Dean scrolled through Tiffany & Co’s website. She had no idea, but all of the nice gifts he’d been giving her lately were intended for you first before you sent them back.

“Dean, baby,” Allie crooned, coming closer to him on the couch. “You’ve been so stressed lately. What’s wrong?” The hand that had been innocently playing with the back of his neck trailed down his arm, nails raking down his chest before ultimately stopping right at the waistband of his pants.

“Oh, nothing. Just hockey shit, you know how it is.” He mumbled distractedly, scrolling through the most expensive pairs of earrings. Did you like silver or gold better?”

“Y’know,” she started, swinging a leg across his lap so she was straddling him. “I can help with that.”

She grabbed his phone, chucking it across the cushions; before he could protest, she surged forward, connecting their lips in a hot, deep kiss.

As Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, he couldn’t help his mind from swirling wildly with thoughts of you. Your sweet smile, your effortless appeal, the way you turned every head in the rooms you entered without even trying.

Your soft lips, the way your body felt melded against his own…

His eyes flew open, realizing that instead of being in the moment, he was imagining that Allie was you instead. Allie, sensing the tension by the way his body went rigid under hers, opened her eyes to find him already staring back at her.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” She sighed, sliding off his lap and onto the cushion beside him.

“What? Babe, no, absolutely not. You’re the only girl I see.”  He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer. “C’mere, I wasn’t done kissing you.”

As the night grew more passionate, Dean’s brain wouldn’t shut off regardless of how hard he tried. You plagued his every waking moment, only further reminding him of what he’d lost. As he willed all remaining thoughts of you away, he could only hope the sweet relief of forgetting about you would come to him soon.

Another week, another Briar hockey victory.

The guys had all around been on fire, completing a successful shutout and ultimately beating their rival team 4-0.

The crowd was alit with excitement, fans cheering and yelling their support from all around the rink. As Dean’s eyes wandered, he searched for you, finding himself truly disappointed when he realized you hadn’t shown up at all. Not even Allie wearing his jersey in the stands could console his aching heart.

The team’s energy was at an all-time high as they entered the locker room, sharing high fives and the joy of yet another flawless victory. Even Dean was grateful for the small distraction, joining in on his teammates’ cheers.

“You were fucking awesome out there tonight, dude.” Logan praised him from his spot next to him.

“It’s not easy being this perfect, but I try to stay humble.” Dean responded, smirking. He went to place his helmet on the top shelf, stopping in his tracks when a photo strip he’d forgotten he put there came fluttering down to the floor.

It was the photo strip from your first date. You were at Malone’s, insisting on going into the photo booth to commemorate the occasion. Dean trailed behind you reluctantly, eyes scanning the room for any potential sighting of Allie.

Inside the booth, a set of four photos followed. In the first picture, the two of you threw up matching peace signs at the lens. In the second, you gave the camera a huge, lovesick grin as Dean smiled at you. The third managed to catch your first kiss. He’d put his hand on your chin in between shots, turning your face towards him and slotting your lips together as the camera flashed. The fourth that followed was the two of you, forehead to forehead, sharing secret, shy smiles, completely ignoring the lens altogether.

His breath caught in his throat at the memory, with tears embarrassingly welling in his eyes and threatening to spill at any given moment. He grabbed the strip, folding it and shoving it in his back pocket for safekeeping before Garrett’s voice rang out.

“Party at our place tonight!”

“Hey, man, you alright?” Tucker questioned Dean as he rose from his crouched position, clapping his friend on the back. “You seemed kinda out of it there.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally fine. Just kind of tired.” His finger skimmed the top of the photos absentmindedly, mind once again wandering at the thought of you. “Let’s go get fucked up!”

Booze was flowing in every possible direction, its smell potent. The bass coming from the speakers shook Dean to his core, only adding to his sudden nauseousness. Allie clinging to his side didn’t help, either, making him feel claustrophobic.

“Bro,” Garrett started, moving closer in his direction. “The hell’s going on with you tonight? Besides the shots we took, you’ve been taking micro sips of that beer you’re holding for the last hour. You’re normally the first one to be drunk by now.”

“Just not feeling it, I guess.” Dean responded halfheartedly, taking his now lukewarm beer and placing it on the counter.

“Well, lighten up, then! We just won one of our biggest games of the season. Now is the best time to celebrate instead of moping around.”

“Oh, leave him be, Garrett.” Tucker chimed in, placing a series of appetizers on the kitchen island. “He’s just a little heartbroken right now.”

“And why would he be heartbroken?” Allie questioned, eyes narrowing at the guys.

“Oh, um, I think I hear someone calling our names from the other room, Tuck.” Garrett turned on his heel, moving toward the doorway.

“What? Dude, I don’t hear anything-“Tucker’s response was interrupted by Garrett shoving him forward by his back. “Ouch! Hey, don’t touch the appetizers yet! There’s some still in the oven!”

Allie turned, facing Dean completely and placing a hand on his chest. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been acting so weird. You haven’t even looked my way once tonight.”

“Sorry, baby, guess I was just distracted by something.” Dean’s excuse was met with skepticism by the brunette in front of him.

“Something? Or someone?”

That comment cut deep. Dean sighed, about to apologize once more, knowing deep down that she was right. He was still searching for you an hour into the party, having given up hope that you’d show up at all. His attempt was stopped by Allie’s sudden squeal.

“Babe, I love this song! Let’s dance!”

His reluctance was met by Allie tugging sharply on his hand, leading him to the makeshift dance space the guys had created earlier. She turned around so her back was to his front, placing his hands on her hips before grinding on him and swaying her hips to the beat of the music.

As his eyes scanned the room for the hundredth time that night, Dean found his hopes vanquishing and his heart sinking into his stomach. He missed you so badly it physically hurt him, chest constantly aching and yearning to be by your side. You were in his every waking thought, on his mind 24/7.

He caught a familiar head of hair on the opposite end of the floor, realizing instantly that it was you. You were on the edge of the dance floor with Hunter, swaying to the music as you stared into each other’s eyes. Dean’s stomach churned with jealousy, unsure of whether he was about to throw up or kick Hunter’s nuts in.

He whispered a joke in your ear, which resulted in you throwing your head back in laughter. Hunter took the moment of opportunity to trail kisses down your exposed neck, Dean’s fists balling at his sides at the sight. Before he could think twice, he was pushing away from Allie, heading your way in a storm of fury as he only saw red.

How dare you hook up with his arch nemesis like that right in front of him? How dare Hunter flaunt you around like a prize to be won? How dare he himself be so stupid to let you go?

“What the hell are you doing here, Davenport?” Dean asked angrily, subtly nudging you away by the hip.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Di Laurentis? I’m celebrating the team’s win with my girlfriend.” Hunter smirked, gesturing in your direction. Dean wanted to break every single finger on that outstretched hand.

“Stay the fuck away from my girl.” His finger jabbed right into the center of Hunter’s chest, pushing in slightly.

“Oh, ‘your girl’, huh? Was she your girl when you broke her heart and shattered it right in front of her? Or when you used her just to make your slutty ex jealous? I should thank you for being such a dumbass with no backbone. You fumbled the greatest woman in your life just like you fumble with the puck on the ice. Don’t worry though, I made sure the sounds of her crying your name turned into screaming mine-“

Any remaining retorts Hunter had were ceased by Dean’s fist colliding hard with the side of his jaw. He reeled back, spitting blood on the floor before getting right back up in Dean’s face. “That all you got, big boy?”

Dean couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. He knew he tackled Hunter to the ground, fists flying on both sides. He felt the stinging blows to his face as his own knuckles cracked and bruised with force, being pulled apart by his teammates shortly after. He doesn’t know how he got home after, but one image would be engrained into his mind forever.

It wasn’t Hunter’s bloody, bashed up face on the floor beneath him. Nor was it Allie’s screams and cries of his name, begging him to stop. It wasn’t even the flashes of the surrounding cameras capturing one of the worst moments of his life.

It was you. The way you watched the scene unfold in silent terror, eyes wide with fear. You looked at Dean as if you hated him. Like he scared you.

Like he was a monster.

The week that followed the incident remained generally quiet for once. Dean hadn’t contacted you since the incident, choosing to hide in his shared house when he wasn’t at practice or classes.

You’d taken most of the week for yourself to figure things out on your own. As it turns out, having two big, hunky hockey players fighting for your attention wasn’t all it was cut out to be.

Both Hannah and Grace had reached out plenty of times, expressing their support for you and saying they’d be there if you needed anything at all. Other members of the Briar U student body had reached out as well both virtually and face to face, asking how you were holding up. A video of the fight had gone viral, which meant there was extra attention on you as of late.

Through it all, one thing remained clear to you. Regardless of who came in and out of your life, who you dated, or who stuck with you through it all, you’d always have yourself. You’d picked up the pieces of your broken heart like a badass, refusing to let Dean, or any man for that matter, dictate you as a person.

You grabbed your usual drink order and a croissant off the counter at the café, choosing to treat yourself before your first class of the day. As you exited, you heard your name being called faintly. Bracing yourself, you turned to greet the person, only to be shocked at who you saw before you.

It was Allie.

She looked like total shit; dark circles under her eyes, messy hair, sweatpants and hoodie hanging loosely off her form. This was so unlike the usual Allie you knew and used to love, the one who put the utmost care into her appearance every day. Not for the opinions of others, but for herself.

“Can I help you?” You asked, face guarded.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t actually expecting you to hear me out.” Allie stuttered, playing with her fingers nervously. “I was totally expecting you to hate me. Which, if you do, I don’t blame you in the slightest for.”

Did you hate Allie? You’d been so convinced the whole time that she was a version of the devil himself with the way she stole your man. Now, looking at how she let a guy destroy her like this, you mainly pitied her.

“You turned my relationship into a game, Allie. I thought we were friends when you just wanted my boyfriend for yourself the whole time. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? Wait, no, you really don’t, because you got what you wanted without ever thinking twice about me. That’s not personal achievement, that’s being a fucking selfish bitch.”

Allie winced, embarrassed tears making streaks down her face. “It wasn’t like that, I swear! We really were friends. I don’t know what came over me seeing the two of you together. I saw how happy you were, and I guess it just made me wish to have the same thing in any way I could get it.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, you got it, alright.” Turning to walk off, she stopped you once more by yet another quiet plea of your name.

“Dean and I broke up after the party. Watching him fight over you like that, I knew that I was no longer part of the equation with him. It was only you- it’s always only been you, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for hurting you in the way that I did. I was a raging bitch who burned everything in her path, you especially. Dean and I both regret everything that happened.”

“As you should.”

Allie blinked rapidly, stunned at your blunt response, before laughing lightly. “Yeah, I guess we both deserve that.” She stepped closer, holding both arms up in surrender. “I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon, Hell, I’d be pissed at you if you did. But I want you to be happy, Y/N/N. In any way, shape, or form. In the future, if you want to reconnect, have a girls night, or just need a shoulder to cry on, you call me, okay? I’ve truly missed you so much.”

You hesitated, giving her a small smile. “Sure, I’ll think about it. I’ve gotta run, but you take care of yourself, okay?”

She gave you a small, watery smile of her own in return. “You, too.”

As you walked to class, you felt a new sense of inner peace and motivation. You didn’t need Dean to be happy, Dean needed you. You were achieving your goals, reaching for the life you dreamed of, and nothing would stop you again.

ENDING #1- SHE CHOOSES HERSELF

“Thanks for meeting me here.” You smiled, sliding into the bench across from Dean at a booth in Malone’s.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Dean’s voice shook as he responded.

“Listen, before you say anything, I think I should start.” You clasped your hands in front of you on the table, staring at him intently. “I love you, Dean. I think a small part of me will always love you.”

His eyes shone with hope at your beginning statement, thinking this would finally be the moment of forgiveness.

“But whatever we had, whatever you were leading me on with, is finished. It’s over. I’ve grown, I’ve changed, and I’m really starting to like who I am as a person. On my own.”

“This is about Hunter, isn’t it?” He asked, hurt etched clearly on his face.

“What? No, absolutely not. Hunter was a good time, not a long time. Not that that’s any of your business, however.”

“Then what is it, baby? What do I need to do to win you back?”

“I’m not a prize to be won, Dean. And I’m not your baby anymore, either.” You reminded him gently. “I’m my own person. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, not Dean Di Laurentis or Hunter Davenport’s girlfriend. I deserve to be respected for who I am, not my status socially through relationships.”

“So, this is it, then?” He whispered, downcast eyes filling unexpectedly with tears that he tried desperately to blink back. “We’re over, just like that?”

“Yeah, Dean. We’re done.”

Dean fumbled around with his pant pocket momentarily, grabbing the photo strip buried inside and laying it flat on the table in front of you. Looking down on it in shared melancholy, the two of you smiled at the bittersweet memories.

“We were really something, weren’t we?” Dean whispered.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I guess we were.”

A young couple stumbled out of the photo booth, laughing loudly, breaking the bubble the two of you shared in your booth. Looking at them as they waited for their own photo strip, you could’ve almost laughed at the fact that one relationship was ending for good as another one was just beginning.

You stepped out of Malone’s with a feeling of hope in your heart. Your future was bright, with endless opportunities in front of you. None of them included Dean, a thought that would’ve sent you 6 months ago into a coma but only gave you peace now.

Dean sent you one last small wave through the window, one that you returned before turning and walking back down the street. Your head was held high, knowing you’d be more than alright in the end on your own. Cheating hockey players be damned; you had yourself to rely on. That was more than enough for you.

ENDING #2: SHE TAKES HIM BACK (KIND OF)

You found yourself standing in front of Dean’s house once more, hands shaking nervously at your sides. Raising one hand before you could stop yourself, you knocked curtly on the front door.

Instead of being met with Dean’s face like expected, you were met with Beau’s instead.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He greeted, clearly surprised at seeing you. “Didn’t expect for you to be here.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You smiled. “Is Dean home, by any chance?”

“Yeah, he is, but I actually wanted to talk to you for a second.” He pulled the door shut behind him. “I wanted to personally apologize for how shitty I was toward you without even realizing it. Dean’s my best friend, but I care about you too. Keeping secrets from you was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made, and I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks for the apology, Beau.” You responded, glancing at the front door. “Just, please, whatever you do, don’t lie to me like that again. It really messed with me more than you could imagine.”

Before Beau could respond, the front door creaked back open, and a familiar head of blond hair popped out. Freezing in his tracks at the sight of you, Dean’s mouth went slightly agape.

“Well,” Beau smirked, inching back inside. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Y/N.” He gasped, moving slightly closer. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m the biggest dick on campus.” He groaned, rushing toward you with arms open wide. His attempt was denied by your hand flat against his chest, pushing him away.

“Not so fast.” Your arms crossed over your chest. “I’m not quite ready to fully forgive you just yet.”

“What is it?”

“You hurt me far beyond what I’m able to describe. If you think there’s any chance I’m just going to waltz right back into your arms without so much as a conversation, you’re dead wrong. The ball’s in my court, not yours.”

“I want you to know that these past months have been hell for me, sweetheart. I’ve been absolutely miserable without you. Time drags on when you’re not around and nothing seems to make sense. I was so busy focusing on Allie that I hadn’t realized I was falling for you the whole time. You’re the center of my universe and always will be, even if you don’t take me back.”

Your silence only made Dean more nervous, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of an emotion.

“Well, that’s a start.” You finally responded. “I’m glad you were miserable, Dean. You deserved to be. I want you to always remember this moment every time you fuck up again, because the next time anything even close to this happens, I’m gone for good.”

He gulped, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and understanding with a hint of fear. “I hear you loud and clear, baby. Do you want to come inside and talk more? Tucker’s got dinner in the oven and I think we have more to discuss.”

You were still undoubtedly hurt, with more groveling and forgiveness to come down the line. Looking at Dean’s hopeful face, though, you started to believe that a future where the two of you could be together was becoming more possible by the minute.

If someone had told you six months ago that you’d currently be dating the Dean Di Laurentis, star of the Briar University hockey team and well-known playboy, you would’ve probably laughed to the point of tears.

Oh, how things can change so drastically.

You’d met at a frat party, bumping into each other on accident. The alcohol held loosely in his grip sloshed out of the Solo cup upon impact, sending lukewarm beer down the front of your top.

“Oh, fuck! I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Dean seemed apologetic, but the way his eyes subconsciously trailed down your now soaked top (and the black bra clearly visible) were anything but sorry.

You were starstruck as you let out a meek “It’s fine!”, scrambling to find napkins to wipe yourself down and appear decent again.

“Hey, wait, I think I have an extra top upstairs. You can change into that if you’d like.”

“Do I want to make a guess as to why you have women’s clothing in your room upstairs?”

His sly smirk in response was all the answer you needed.

“Nope, never mind. I’m just going to head home and take a shower or something. It was nice to meet you.” You whipped around, intent on making a beeline for the front door.

A strong, large hand wrapped around your wrist before you could go far. “Hold on!” You turned around slowly, skepticism clear on your face. “It’s actually just one of my sister’s shirts- she left it here the last time she came to visit. Would you please come change so I can get to know you better?”

You paused, thinking over both options. If he was just looking for a quickie, he found the wrong girl. On the other hand, you were covered in sticky beer and every crevice of your body smelled like it.

The gross feeling of the beer stuck to your skin won out. “Fine, I’ll change. But no funny business. I mean it.”

Dean grinned like he had you right where he wanted you. In a sense, he truly did. “Of course, sweetheart. Lead the way.”

The two of you ended up talking until the early hours of the morning, ceasing conversation only when everyone else had gone home and the other guys were passed out in various spots around the house. True to his words, Dean never made any sexual advances toward you, remaining respectful and listening intently to what you were talking about.

Late night talking turned to coffee dates, which turned into lunch dates, ultimately ending in multiple dinner dates before you finally decided to call yourselves a couple.

Dean, surprisingly, was everything you wished for in a boyfriend. He was chivalrous, kind, and put you first before everything and everyone else. You’d agreed to just keep the relationship light and fun, leaving the serious parts for a later time if you got there.

The pair of you were rapidly approaching the month mark of being together, and everything thus far had been amazing.

“Why hello there, gorgeous.” A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind on the quad, pulling you backward into them and placing kisses down your neck. “Funny seeing you here.”

“Dean, stop.” You giggled, squirming in his hold from the ticklish sensation. “You knew I’d be here! It was your idea to meet for lunch.”

“And what a fantastic idea it was.” He grabbed your hand, leading you over to a picnic table nearby, sliding food across the table before sitting beside you on the bench and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

As the two of you ate and chatted, you scanned the courtyard, people watching. There were a group of freshmen discussing their days, another couple making out on the opposite end of the quad, and at another table you could see Hannah and Allie, talking in hushed whispers.

You locked eyes with Hannah, grinning and sending her a wave. She sent a small wave in greeting back, Allie turning to see who she was looking at. You waved at her as well, expecting the same in return. Instead, you got a scathing glare and a small frown in response before she whipped her head back around.

Huh, that was weird. Allie and Hannah were besties, but you also occasionally hung around them. You’d always had good times together, which made Allie’s sudden change in personality even more confusing.

“Well, that’s odd.” You told Dean.

“Yeah, sure.” He responded, but his voice sounded distracted. Upon looking at him, you noticed he wasn’t staring at you- he was looking intently at Allie

“Everything okay?”

“What?” It was as if your question snapped him out of a daze. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Just had my head in the clouds, I guess. Want some more fruit?”

“Sure,” you responded, growing more suspicious at his suddenly flippant attitude.

As the two of you finished lunch, you couldn’t help the sudden lump in your throat. Something odd had happened, and you were determined to find out one way or another. Even if that meant doing some deeper digging.

The night of Logan’s fundraiser rolled around quickly, a rare night off for you while Hannah and Allie took the shift at Malone’s. You were still there, just in front of the bar rather than behind it.

You’d seen Dean once or twice while you hung out with Dexter, but only fleeting moments, never once being able to sit and talk to each other.

“You and Dean seem pretty cozy.” Dexter teased, nudging your shoulder lightly with his own.

“Yeah, I guess you could say so.” You couldn’t seem to wipe the giant, lovesick grin from your face.

“You know, I was wondering how long this act between the two of you was going to last.” Birdie chimed in from his spot at a nearby table.

“What do you mean?” you asked, smile slipping slightly from your face.

“I just mean you’re a great friend, is all. Dean and Allie had a good fling going before she broke it off. He was really heartbroken for a while.”

Dexter came to your defense quickly, questioning, “And what does that have to do with Y/N?”

“Oh, c’mon, guys, you can cut the act when it’s just us. The whole hockey team knows.”

“Knows what?”

“They know about your little arrangement so he can get Allie back. It’s all ‘Allie this, Allie that’ when it comes to him in the locker room. It’s totally working, too; she hasn’t been able to stop watching the two of you like a hawk for the last month. They’ll be back with each other by the end of the weekend, I guarantee it. You’ll be off the hook soon.”

At the dumbstruck looks on your and Dexter’s faces, Birdie froze.

“…oh shit, you weren’t in on it?”

You turned, seeing nothing but red as you searched the crowd for the one person who’d know could tell you where Dean was.

“Beau,” you shouted, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. “Where’s Dean?”

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, clearly surprised by your sudden fury. “I’m not sure. Last I saw him, he was on stage announcing the raffle winners.”

He took in your expression, asking hesitantly, “Did…did something happen?”

“How long have you known?”

He winced. “Since the beginning.”

You released his jacket as if he’d burned you, whipping back around and searching for Dean, eyes wild.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry! We can still talk about this!” His words were useless to you, only adding to the fire burning deep in your stomach.

You’d caught him saying something about the photo booth, heading in that direction to see. As you approached, you noticed Dean’s familiar sneakers under the curtain.

Along with another pair of shoes facing him.

You tugged the curtain open, freezing as your worst fear came to life right before your very eyes. Dean and Allie were making out right there in the booth, closer than you ever thought possible.

They broke away at the sudden interruption, Dean’s eyes widening as he noticed the reason for the distraction.

“Oh, shit, Y/N, wait!”

Not a chance in hell you were going to wait for him. You took off toward the front door, pushing your way out with force as tears streamed freely down your face in heavy sobs.

“Baby, please! Wait!”

“What the fuck do you want, Dean?” You screamed, shaking off his hand on your shoulder as you gasped for breath.

“I am so, so sorry. You weren’t meant to see that in any way.”

“Oh, so if I hadn’t seen it then that would’ve been fine? Give me a break.”

He winced at your sharp tone. “No, absolutely not. I know I’m an asshole, okay? I just didn’t know what I wanted. What Allie and I had was great, but I really care about you and would never want to hurt you like I just did.”

“Yeah, caring about me, my ass. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. I wish I had never, ever gone out with you in the first place.” You seethed.

“Look, why don’t we go inside and talk about this?”  He noticed the gathering crowd around you, some whipping their phones out to record the spectacle. “Come on, honey.”

“I hope you figure out what you want, Dean.” You shook his hand off your arm, beginning to walk away. “It just won’t be with me.”

As Dean watched you walk away, silent sobs making your shoulders shake, he couldn’t help the way his heart shattered. He really had grown to feel for you over your time spent together, feeling more guilt with every meeting at the idea of breaking your own heart the way he just did. All this time, he had convinced himself that Allie was the woman he wanted.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

The credits of the movie you and Garrett had been watching rolled across your laptop screen, pizza box at the foot of the bed and empty plates on his nightstand.

Garrett himself was in a huge, major predicament. Somewhere between the final action scene and the ending, you’d fallen asleep against his side. His heart felt like it was beating right out of his chest, thoughts racing at a mile a minute.   

He couldn’t believe you were here, in his arms, like this.

You’ve been friends for as long as Garrett could remember in his college days, being there for each other through thick and thin. Somewhere along the way, the line between friends and something else had blurred in his head, making it almost impossible to be around you without becoming anxious and wishing so desperately that you were his.

He closed the laptop with one arm, leaving the other around you and shifting lower on the bed. He wrapped himself around you from behind, willing himself to relax and sinking deeper into the bed upon smelling your perfume.

How do you tell your best friend you’re so in love with them that it feels like you can’t breathe when they’re not around?

That’s a question he so wished he’d be able to answer- and soon.

“I just don’t understand all these equations and shit. History is where it’s at for me.” Garrett groaned from his spot across from you in the library.

The two of you both had been forced to take a math class as a prerequisite, choosing to put it off for as long as you could before taking the course together.

“I know, but at least you’ve got me here to help you with it.” You laughed softly. “What would you do without me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t even want to think about it.” He meant that much more than you thought he did. There wasn’t a single universe where he didn’t want you right by his side in whatever way he could have you.

“Me, either.” You gave him a soft smile that turned his legs to jelly, looking back down at your textbook as he tried to control his breathing.

He’d tell you how he felt soon, he swore it.

The bass of the song coursing through the speakers rattled Garrett to his core. Normally he wouldn’t be bothered by such things, but when he was feeling a twang of jealousy deep within himself, every little thing added up to piss him off more.

You were also at this party, but you found yourself happily chatting it up with one of the guys on the football team instead of him. You normally stuck to Garrett’s side at parties, and while he knew he didn’t control you, he’d be a fool to say it didn’t hurt a little to see you with another guy.

He took one last swig of his beer, setting it down a little too forcefully on the counter before heading your way.

“Hey, gorgeous, there you are.” Garrett smirked, sliding up next to you so you were shoulder to shoulder. “Missed you back there. James, right? Good to see you, man.”

“It’s Jordan.” The man grumbled back, clearly annoyed at his conversation with you getting interrupted.

“Right, John.” He turned his attention fully on you, bumping your shoulder. “Hey, I was thinkin about heading out of here soon. You coming with me?”

You glanced between the two of them nervously. “Uh, Jordan and I were talking. I’ll probably head out a little later with Allie or something.”

“Oh, alrighty then.” He tried desperately to ignore the nagging instinct to just sweep you up and tell you how he really felt. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then.” He clapped Jordan on the shoulder he passed. “Have a nice night, Jimmy.”

As Garrett exited the frat house and headed toward his jeep, he couldn’t help but to mentally kick himself. If he had just told you how he felt sooner, you wouldn’t be so close to Jack-Joseph-Jordan right now. You’d be close to him.

He ran a hand through his curls frustratedly as he slid into the driver’s seat, vowing that tomorrow would be the day he’d express how madly in love he is with you.

Tomorrow came around and Garrett had chickened out.

The two of you were on a grocery store run, picking up food and other necessities for both your shared dorm with Hannah and Allie and his shared house. As you shopped, you happened to stumble across one of the female freshmen in the cereal aisle.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, running closer. “It’s you two! One of the hottest pairs on campus! You two are so couple goals.”

“Oh, we’re not-“

“Thanks so much-“

The two of you responded simultaneously, shooting each other confused glances at the vastly different answers.

You laughed awkwardly, but the freshman was already backing away before you could answer again.

“Well, I should leave the two of you alone now.” She smiled, whipping her phone out to no doubt text her friends that she had seen the Garrett Graham and Y/N Y/L/N in public together. “Have a great night!”

Garrett turned to face you, trying to read your expression, but your head was buried in the written shopping list.

“So, now we need to go grab some eggs.”

He trailed behind you like a lost puppy, heart at war with his head. If he told you he loved you, would you run away? Or would you be willing to stay?

His thread of barely held restraint snapped one night after a particularly brutal hockey practice. Garrett came home bruised on every available inch of skin, sore muscles aching and feet desperately screaming for rest.

As he climbed the steps to his bedroom, his interest piqued. Lights were on in his room, the faint scent of what seemed to be lavender or something soothing wafting toward him. He also caught the sound of running water faintly from the direction of his bathroom.  

He opened his door cautiously, relief seeping into every fiber of his being at the sight of you. You seemed to have that calming effect on him- like a balm that covered all his worries and troubles.

“What’s all this?” Garrett called out softly.

You jumped, startled at the voice of the man you hadn’t heard enter due to the running water. “Garrett! Don’t do that to me! I could’ve had a heart attack or something.”

“That’s highly unlikely.” He responded, stripping himself of all his hockey attire. “Missed you so much. What’s all this?” He gestured toward the bathroom and at the various supplies covering his bed.

You blushed. “Oh, this is nothing. I just know you’ve been pushing yourself extra hard lately, and even captains deserve to be pampered. I’ve got an Epsom salt bath running with some lavender candles lit, your favorite takeout is staying warm in the oven, I brought some ointments and first aid supplies to help with any particularly severe injuries.” You shrugged. “Least I could do.”

Garrett felt the rush of a hundred different emotions hit him all at once. Love, awe, adoration- nothing but pure joy at the thought of his favorite girl doing so much for him without batting an eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he stood abruptly, dropping everything in his hands to stand mere inches away from you.

“You’re the greatest woman I’ve ever met in my life. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you. It all makes sense now.”

He grabbed the edge of your jacket, pulling you in so the two of you stood chest to chest.

“I can’t wait anymore. When I’m older and these days are behind me, there’s one constant I see in my future. It’s you, baby. I may not have been your very first kiss, but will you let me have the honor of being your last first kiss?”

Your grin nearly blinded him. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You pulled him down to you by the back of his neck, joining your lips in what was sure to be the first of many, many kisses together.

You’d been slammed with your job and schoolwork. Likewise, Tucker’s schedule was loaded with hockey practices, making it virtually impossible for the two of you to hang out or go on a date.

Both of you were feeling the distance, aching to be together again and scanning your schedules repeatedly in the event of a day when both of you were free finally opened.

That free time just so happened to be Saturday night. Tucker’s hockey game was Friday night, the team was allowed to rest the day after, and you were off work, which meant a long-awaited dinner date was on the horizon.

You’d had an everything shower, done your hair, your makeup, and pulled out one of your nicest outfits. As the time passed, you kept checking your phone, anxiously awaiting Tucker’s arrival and growing more concerned as minutes passed.

hey honey, you still on your way?

beginning to get a little worried here lol

hellooooo? earth to tucker…

Each text remained unanswered, only adding to your concerns.

please answer me when you see this

You laid on your bed, anxiously awaiting a response, eyelids growing heavier with each passing hour. Each buzz of a notification filled you with false relief, disappointment growing each time you realized it wasn’t a response from your boyfriend.

At some point during your waiting, you fell into a fitful sleep, mind racing with thoughts of Tucker and concerned if he was okay.

You awoke to sharp knocks on your door.

“Baby?” you heard your boyfriend’s familiar voice from outside your dorm room. “Hey, it’s me. I’ve got practice, remember?”

You glanced at your phone. Shit. You always accompanied Tucker to his hockey practices on Sundays, today being no exception.

You felt anger simmering deep within, threatening to burst out and burn everyone in its path, particularly the man who created your displeasure in the first place. With a frustrated sigh, you wiped the remnants of sleep from your eyes before pulling yourself out of bed.

As you pulled the door open, you noticed Tucker standing a foot away with his hands in his pockets. His lips pulled into a bright grin the second he saw you, like they normally did, which almost erased your bad mood entirely.

Almost.

“You ready, sweet girl?” At the lack of enthusiasm on your face, he faltered momentarily. “Everything okay...Why are you in a dress?”

“I don’t know John, why am I in a dress?” You snipped.

“Woah, why the first name basis? Did I do something wrong?”

“Why yes, you certainly did.”

He gave you a surprised look, almost laughing at how confused he was at your mood. “Uh, okay? Mind telling me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

“What was yesterday, Tuck?”

“Saturday.” He said it like he couldn’t believe you were asking such a basic question.

“Yes, very observant. What was supposed to happen last night?”

“The frat party?” He guessed. “They were helping us celebrate moving on to the Frozen Four championship.”

“No, John, something else was supposed to happen.” You gestured down at yourself. “My hair and makeup are done, I’m wearing my favorite outfit, I put on the perfume you love…”

A sudden burst of realization came to him. “Shit! Date night!”

“Yeah, date night.” You scoffed, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a light breakfast.

“Baby, I am so, so sorry.” The regret in his tone was palpable, but it did nothing to ease the ache of frustration in your heart.

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry. Just go to practice.”

“Wow, so we’re not even going to talk about this? It was the night after one of the biggest moments of my college career.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” You shouted. “You missed our one chance at a date night for the next month! I was looking forward to it because we haven’t spent time together in ages, Tuck. Now it’s going to be even longer before we can even think about date night again.”

“Honey, don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?” He eased, trying to diffuse the situation.

The bagel in your hand almost went soaring right at his head. “No! You let me down. Just go to practice, John. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He headed in the direction of your front door reluctantly, glancing behind him before he left. “I love you, baby. I really am so sorry.”

Your silence only deepened his regret, leaving him with a gaping hole in his heart and a silent vow to make things right as he shut your dorm door behind him.

Later, your group sat at lunch together at the boys’ house. Everyone gathered around the table as Tucker finished cooking the food, setting everything out before taking his seat next to yours.

“Hi, baby. How was your morning?”

Silence.

“I love your outfit today. Really compliments those big, beautiful eyes of yours.”

Nothing.

The rest of the table seemed to have caught on to the uncomfortable vibes, doing their best to try and interject.

“So, Y/N, how was that test you said was super difficult?” Hannah asked. “I hope it was easier than you thought it would be.”

“Oh yeah, it actually wasn’t that bad at all.” You responded, launching into a full discussion about the material and the course itself.

Beside you, Tucker deflated. You were really going to give him the silent treatment now? The pat on the back he received from Garrett and sympathetic look from Logan only made him feel worse.

He wracked his brain on ideas for how to get you to forgive him, coming up with cliches and other ideas that fell short. It was intended to just be a chill day at the house, which left him hoping that something worthwhile would come to him at some point.

“What the fuck, man! I’ve tried everything!” Tucker vented to Logan in the kitchen hours later. “I got her favorite coffee, I offered a foot massage, I even offered to take her on a book shopping spree. She still won’t talk to me.”

“Those are all pretty decent ideas, bro, but I’m pretty sure she wants you to show her you care without all the materialistic stuff.” Logan supplied.

“And how do I do that? Build her a house or something? Sure, let me run to Home Depot and buy some wood real quick. I’ll get started on that right away.”

The pointed look from his friend he received in response made Tucker backtrack quickly.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m just really stressed and I want her to talk to me. She’s the center of my universe, man, I can’t lose her just because I fucked up date night.”

Logan placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not going to lose her, Tuck. If there’s anything obvious about the two of you, it’s that you’re deeply in love. If you show her you’re truly sorry, she’ll forgive you.”

Tucker glanced back toward the couch where you sat laughing with Hannah and Allie, a soft look overtaking his features. He couldn’t lose you over something like this. He wouldn’t.

“Yeah, I hope so.”

You were sprawled out on the couch later that night, everyone else having gone either outside or upstairs to their respective rooms. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss your boyfriend deeply, but you weren’t ready to forgive him until he was willing to put in the same amount of effort you did.

You missed the shadow that came across the couch, shocked by the person suddenly plopping themselves down entirely on top of you.

“Ouch! Hey, get off me!” You groaned, thrashing in their hold as the person’s head rested on your chest and their arms came around your waist.

“Nope, not until you talk to me.” Tucker’s muffled voice responded, sounding entirely too smug with himself.

“Tucker, I swear, let me go right now or I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” he teased, lifting his head so you were face to face. “Kiss me? Tell me off? Kick me in the nuts?”

“Tempting.”

“Well, now that I’ve got your attention again, I figured now would be best to tell you just how much of a sorry ass I really am.” He pulled himself off and sat up on the couch, pulling you up with him.

“I know I’ve been busy. I also know that’s not an excuse whatsoever.” He grasped both of your hands in his. “It was never my intention to make you feel unimportant. You’re the best part of my day, the first thing I think of when I open my eyes and the last thing I think of at night, and my reason for being. I could go on for ages, but above all else, I never want you to doubt my love for you or how much I prioritize you above all else.”

You hesitated, “You know I love you more than anything, Tucker. I just want to know that you prioritize our relationship as much as I do.”

“I do, baby. You’re my everything, my number one priority.”

“Well then, I guess we’re back on speaking terms…for now.” You joked, smile giving away your tough act entirely.

He shoved you backward, attacking your neck in kisses and tickling your sides. “Brat.” After relishing in your sweet laughter for a minute, he pulled back. “Did you even notice what I was doing behind you?”

You peeked over the edge of the couch, surprise and joy intermixing within you. “What is that?”

“Our date.” He replied, standing up and offering his hand to pull you off the couch.

The table had been set like a restaurant, fancy tablecloth and cutlery all perfectly placed. Rose petals surrounded the setup, candles burning in the middle of the table, with the delicious aroma of something cooking in the oven wafting through the house.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you gasped, touched by the gesture.

“Nonsense. Of course I did, baby. Only the absolute best for my girl.”

As he led you by the hand to your seat, you couldn’t help but tug him back in toward you, lifting a hand to his neck and pulling your lips together.

His hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you slightly as the kiss deepened. You felt pure joy burrowing deep in your chest and expanding outward, reaching from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. This was where you belonged.

As he set you down and the two of you broke apart for air, you shared a look full of adoration. You could see the pure, unadulterated love pooling in his eyes, and you were sure he could see the same in yours.

“Shall we?” Tucker prompted, keeping one arm around your waist as he gestured to the dining table.

You were never surer of anything in your life; Tucker was truly, undeniably the only man you’d ever need. There was one thing swirling in your mind as you looked up at him:

I could do this for a long time with you. Maybe forever.

“Let’s do it.”

John Logan is a man who doesn’t startle easily. Maybe it’s because of his childhood, maybe it’s just his personality, but not much truly makes him anxious anymore.

Not much besides his girlfriend failing to answer his texts and calls for long periods of time, that is.

He started his messages earlier that morning, beginning with his usual good morning paragraph and a few extra little updates, before progressing to texts like are you alright? and what’s going on, baby?

sweetheart, I’m getting a little worried here

is something wrong?

text or call me when you can.

All remained unanswered, only adding to his concerns.

Logan eventually found Allie and Hannah heading out of a class, stopping them in the hall to see if they’d heard anything from you today.

“Let me check,” Hannah whipped her phone from her back pocket, scrolling for a moment as her face grew more concerned. “Nope, nothing. That’s weird, I normally get a snap or text from her by now.”

“She told me last night her stomach was starting to bug her. Maybe she just took the day off or something to get some rest.” Allie added.

“Thanks, ladies. I’ll try calling her again and see if she answers this time.”

As he stepped away, Logan hoped his nerves hadn’t made his voice shake like they were turning his insides to jelly.

His call once again went unanswered, but this time, it went straight to voicemail. No dial tone to haunt him, only the distinct sound of your voice telling him to call back later. Oh, I’ll call later, alright.

Logan sighed, shooting a text to Garrett that he’d be skipping the class they shared that afternoon, before hopping in his truck and driving in the direction of your dorm.

He’d just found a parking spot and had his hand on the door handle when his phone buzzed in his jacket. He pulled it out faster than he thought possible, checking anxiously and hoping it was you finally responding.

Fuck, definitely not you. It was Dean.

yo, dude, ur girl’s here

feel bad, she looks like death

didn’t greet us or anything when I answered, just took off up the stairs toward ur room

maybe come check on her? she was grabbing her stomach

Logan let out a small sigh of relief, his stomach now twisting for an entirely different reason. Nothing had happened to you, but it was obvious that you were still in pain.

He told Dean he’d be right there, starting the truck again and heading in the direction of his shared home to help his girl.

As Logan entered the house, laden with bags filled with care products on both arms, he headed upstairs in the direction of his bedroom. The guys were playing video games on the couch, making it loud, but when he approached his door, he noticed how quiet it had gotten.

He poked his head inside, trying to assess the situation before entering the room, and the sight before him nearly broke his heart right in two.

You were curled up in the center of his bed, wearing only one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The only light came from under the closed bathroom door, the fan he had for if you needed white noise whirring softly in the corner.

What hurt him the most, however, was seeing the discomfort clearly written across your face. You had your arms wrapped tightly around your stomach like a barrier, shifting uncomfortably in your sleep every so often.

When Logan’s girl hurt, he hurt too.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” He cooed, slipping through the door and shutting it softly behind him. He set the bags on his desk chair, moving toward you and brushing your hair out of your face in gentle caresses.

You stirred awake at the contact, flipping on your side to face Logan.

He bent down to your level, cupping your face in one of his hands and greeting. “Hey, baby. How are you feeling? Does your stomach hurt?”

You nodded weakly, trying to sit up with a grimace but being pushed back down gently. “Yeah, it’s just my period. My cramps are killing me today- they haven’t traveled to my back like this in a long time. Feels like my stomach’s a punching bag right now.”

You glanced at the clock on his bedside table, realizing what time it was and meeting Logan’s gaze once more.

“Wait! It’s 12:30! Why aren’t you in class right now?”

The soft look he gave you in response almost erased any thoughts you had about your cramps to begin with, but the sharp, aching twangs that resumed in your stomach pulled you right back into the moment.

“Couldn’t let my girl sit here in agony while I wasted my afternoon in a boring as hell class.”

He reached behind him toward one of the bags, pulling out a bottle of Ibuprofen and grabbing a water bottle from his bedside. When you paused for a moment and didn’t automatically reach for the medicine in his palm, he gave you a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“Google told me Ibuprofen is the best for cramps. A girl in the tampon and pad aisle told me the same thing when I asked.” He rambled. “I just kind of figured you may be on your period. But if you wanted something else or you prefer a different medication, I can happily go back and grab it, or if you just want me to get lost-“

“Logan,” you interrupted softly, easing his worries by grabbing the medicine and water with a sweet smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always.” His response was instant. “How could I not? You’re my favorite person on the planet- I’ll always look after you.”

With that, he turned around, pulling everything else out of the bag. A heating pad belt with warming spots for both your stomach and back, your favorite candy, snacks and drinks, a migraine cap in case your head was bothering you, and fuzzy socks all were included.

Logan grabbed the socks first, placing them on your feet to help with maximum comfort.

“Covers or no covers?” He asked, reaching for the corner of his bedspread.

“No covers. I’ll get too warm and it’s too heavy for me right now.”

He grabbed his lightest, comfiest blanket from the pile by his bedpost instead, cocooning you in it with a kiss pressed to your forehead.

“Perfect blanket for the most perfect girl.”

He placed the snacks, drinks, and candy on his bedside table, putting the migraine cap closest to the bed in case you needed it soon.

He took a moment to change his own clothes, vowing that if you were going to be in bed for the rest of the night, there’s no place he’d rather be than by your side.

You’d flipped back over on your other side as he changed, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide right up behind you in bed.

Logan slid under the blanket and spooned you from behind, both hands wrapping around your waist. Your feet were tucked between his calves, warming them as kisses were pressed to your hair. He put his palms flat on your stomach, gently massaging the area and occasionally reaching a hand around to massage your aching back.

The comfort from his hands that absolutely radiated heat instantly brought you the relief you’d been seeking for the last 12+ hours.

“Could stay like this forever,” he mumbled, “Right here, holding you. Just me and my girl, no other care in the world. If I could take your pain from you and make myself suffer instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You knew that he absolutely meant it with every fiber of his being. The two of you had established long ago that you were it for each other. Your pain was his pain; your joy was his joy.

“I love you, baby. Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As his ministrations lulled you into a peaceful slumber despite the aching in your lower stomach, you knew that Logan would do this forever. He would always be your safe space, your protector.

Your home.

<3

The type of relationship you and Dean Di Laurentis have is…interesting, to say the least.

You’d been unlikely friends since the beginning of college. He went to you with all his problems regarding hockey, and you enjoyed the company he brought.

Eventually, things began to shift between the two of you. You’d often catch him staring at you, unmistakable heat and lust in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you tingle with need. The friends with benefits arrangement that inevitably followed was easy and fun.

Until you caught feelings, that was. Now, you stayed for the sex and good times in bed, but your heart yearned for something else. Something more. You wanted all of the lovey dovey stuff that came with a relationship.

You wanted it all with Dean.

You laid flat on your back on Hannah’s bed, ranting about yet another failed opportunity to tell Dean how you truly felt.

“I was going to tell him I loved him last night, but I got choked up when he did that thing with his tongue and I totally forgot all sense of rational thought!”

She grimaced. “Yeah, that’ll do it to you. So what’s your game plan now?”

“I don’t know, Han. I just can’t ever seem to find the words to say how I really feel.”

She sat back against her headboard, pondering how you could tell Dean your feelings without making a fool of yourself. An idea flashed in her head, and she sat up suddenly with a gasp.

“Hey! We’re all meeting up for lunch at the quad later. Why don’t you stop by after classes? He’s out of his class first, so you’ll be able to catch him alone and tell him then.”

“Alright, that may work.” You seemed to genuinely appreciate the suggestion. “That way, if he rejects me, I have an easy exit after.”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll be there too to have your back either way, and regardless of what happens, you’re still the best person I know. Dean, or any other guy on campus, would be super lucky to have you as their girlfriend.”

You gave a small smile, mumbling a small, “Yeah, I sure hope so.”

You clutched your notebook tightly to your chest, scanning the quad for the sixth time in the last two minutes. Still no sign of Dean. Your anxiety grew with each passing moment, feeling a lump forming in your throat and the notebook starting to slip from your slippery palms.

Just as you were about to chicken out and head in the other direction, you saw a tall, muscular blond man enter from the opposite end of the courtyard, immediately knowing it was him.

As he approached the meeting spot Hannah had told you about, you took a deep breath to steady yourself and headed in his direction.

Instead of the warm welcome you were expecting, you were met with a panicked look on Dean’s face and a hushed, “What are you doing here?”

You met his nervous stare with a confused smile. “I’m here to see you, silly. Wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

His eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone had been watching the two of you.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The smile on your face fell as quickly as it had appeared. “What?”

“Y/N, we had a deal. I offered you a good time in private if we spared the public from all the gross romantic shit. I’m supposed to be a good time, not a long time, remember? If people see us together too often, they’ll think we’re locked down or something.”

“Well, what if I decided I wanted more? What if I told you I wanted the ‘gross romantic shit’?”

“Then I’d say you’re looking at the wrong guy.”

“God, Dean, you make it sound like I’m the least desirable girl on campus. Would being with me for real really be so bad?”

He sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of his nose before bringing his gaze back up to yours.

“Yeah, it would be.”

You gasped, breath getting caught as you felt your heart breaking. You could see the rest of your joint friend group approaching from behind Dean, only having it in you to squeak out an “Oh.”

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. You spun on your heel right after catching Hannah’s confused stare, taking off in the opposite direction toward your dorm.

From behind you, you could hear Dean’s “Y/N, hey, wait, we need to talk about this!”, followed by Logan’s “What the hell did you do, man?”, but their words didn’t deter you. In fact, they only made you run faster.

Your lungs burned once you made it to your dorm room, collapsing on your bed in a heap and finally letting your tears fall in silent sobs. 

You were a fool for thinking Dean could ever love you like that. You were a good fuck and a place to vent; that was all you’d ever be.

In the days following the incident, Dean tried to reach you in any way he could. It started with phone calls, leaving long voicemails begging you to pick up and talk to him. After that came the texts.

DUMB EVIL ASSHOLE NONUTS: hey, can we talk?

I’m so, so sorry baby

I didn’t mean any of what I said

I was stupid and scared, but I’m not scared anymore

just pick up the phone when you get the chance, ok?

The new contact name had been Allie’s idea, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly whenever you saw it. Regardless, his texts and calls remained unanswered.

When both of those methods failed him, Dean tried sending his buddies to talk to you in the hopes of creating a peace offering.

“Hey, Y/N, funny seeing you here.” Tucker greeted you, speed walking to catch up to your pace.

“Respectfully, Tucker, cut the shit. I take this path to class every single day. What are you here for?”

“I’m asking you to hear Dean out.” He winced at your immediate scoff. “He’s really sorry for what he did and regrets it daily. All he talks about is you.”

“Yeah, well he can keep talking about me all he wants. He made it very clear that he’s only in it for a hookup.”

Tucker went to say something else, but you cut him off before he could continue pleading Dean’s case.

“Listen, I’ve gotta get to class. It’s great you guys want us back together, but I honestly don’t see it happening again. Hope to see you around- take care.” With that, you began your walk to the last morning class on your schedule, also known as the only one you shared with Dean.

As you settled into your seat and pulled your journal to scan through your notes, you saw someone sit in the seat directly next to yours in your peripheral vision. Upon one whiff of the familiar cologne, you sighed, not daring to raise your gaze at the unwelcomed man.

“What do you want, Dean?”

“Hello to you too, sunshine. Just wanted to see my favorite girl on this fine morning. I brought your favorite, too.” Your favorite drink slid across the table to you.

“I don’t feel like talking to you right now. Or ever, for that matter.”

He sighed, turning in his seat to face you completely. “I know what I did was incredibly shitty. I regret every second of that interaction, believe me. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, but for you, I’m ready to try. I was a coward and don’t deserve your forgiveness in the slightest. There’s one thing I know for certain, though.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. If it takes a day, a month, hell, even a year, I’m still going to be here. Say the word and I’m yours completely.”

You glanced sideways at him questioningly. “And what if I’m never ready?”

He paused, looking taken aback by your question.

“Then I don’t get you back and live with the fact that I’ve ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. But I’ll still always be grateful for the time I was almost yours.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Dean’s lips fell into a deep frown. “I’ll regret it the rest of my life and be always wish for what could’ve been between us. But I’d rather you be happy, regardless of whether that’s with or without me.”

You closed your notebook, turning so you were face to face. “Look, I’m really glad you had a change of heart and realized you fucked up, but I don’t think I’m ready to entertain the idea of us being together for real yet. I deserve time to find who I am as a person and think about where my future could go.”

“That’s completely understandable. Just do me a favor, if or when you’re ready, give me a call. I’ll be right here waiting.”

As the lesson began and you ceased your conversation, a small flutter began in your heart once more that became impossible to ignore.

Something that felt a lot like hope.

When Dean promised you he’d let you find yourself, that didn’t mean stopping the gestures and acts of love to prove he was still thinking about you.

He knocked on your dorm door twice a week, handing you flowers with a bright smile before turning and walking right back down the hall without a word. Some had notes on them; nothing crazy, just sayings like a simple have an amazing week, gorgeous or thinking of you.

He still went to parties with his friends but didn’t engage with the many women throwing themselves at him like he used to. That, of course, brought a buzz amongst students, many of them questioning who the mystery woman could be stealing his attention away.

“Did you hear about Dean?” You overheard a sophomore gossiping with her friend in hushed whispers. “He hasn’t had sex with anyone in weeks. Months, even. Lisa told me she wore her shortest skirt that made him fold last time and he didn’t even look twice at her!”

“Damn, he’s a changed man.” Her friend responded. “I really wonder what, or who, managed to take his attention away from the playboy life.”

“Must be someone really important to him. If only it could’ve been me, right?.”

Their conversation devolved into giggles from there, but you couldn’t find it in you to see anything humorous about the situation.

He’d given up sex? For you? That wasn’t a point of conversation or a rule set when your fling ended. Both of you had come to a mutual agreement that you could see other people…or so you thought.

You caught Dean later on his way to practice, gear slung over his shoulder as he headed for the doors of the rink.

“Hey, wait up!”

He turned, confused look giving way to a smile when he saw it was you approaching him.

“Oh, hey, baby, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping with other women?”

“Woah, getting straight to the point, I see.” His chuckle that followed only angered you more.

“I’m serious here, Dean! Why is everyone on campus buzzing about how you haven’t slept with a girl in ages?”

“That’s easy, it’s because I haven’t.”

“But why?”

“Look,” he stepped closer, dropping his bag onto the ground beside him. “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you, baby: you’re the only one for me. I’m not interested in sleeping with other women because they’re not you. There’s no situation, no scenario, where you’re not my happy ending.”

Dean closed the distance between the two of you, cupping the side of your face in one hand and gripping your waist in the other. He leaned down so you were eye level, faces dangerously close.

“Say you don’t want me too. Tell me you’re not mine like I’m wholeheartedly yours, and I’ll back off forever.”

Your breath hitched, scrambling to sort your racing thoughts.

“I-I… you know I can’t.”

He backed off with that stupid grin of his, having caught you right where he wanted.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart. It’s your call.” With that, he picked his bag back up, turning and finally heading through the doors and into his practice.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, restless at the thought of him. You went back and forth, alternating between hating his guts and wanting to see him for the rest of your days right by your side.

Around 3 AM, you had a moment of clarity. You were tired of denying yourself the opportunity to be happy.

You were ready to be with Dean for real, once and for all.

The day had come at last- the finals of the Frozen Four. Also known as the Olympic gold medal game equivalent of college hockey.

You had limited contact with Dean after your interaction a week ago, sending each other small smiles in the halls and occasionally bumping into each other on campus or in your joint class; the time for your own gesture of love grew near. What better time to tell the love of your life that they’re it for you too than at the biggest game of their season?

Hannah squealed as you exited your bedroom, noticing the blue #66 jersey you were wearing.

“Oh, that man is going to flip out.”

You’d never worn anything of his in public before, choosing to respect his wishes of wanting to remain private. The jersey had been an accidental keepsake, something you wore after a particularly passionate night together that you’d forgotten to return. It sat hidden in the back of your closet until now.

“You think?” Your nerves shone through your voice. “I just don’t know if this is too much or not.”

“Y/N/N, it’s clear as day that the two of you are completely head over heels for each other. You, cheering him on, wearing his jersey, at the most important game of his college career is only going to make him love you more.”

“Alright, Han, if you say so.” You took a deep, steady breath, smoothing your hands down the front of the jersey. “I think it’s about time we head out, don’t you agree? I’ve got a hockey player to confess to.”

You sat on one of the bleachers a few rows behind the ice, sandwiched between Allie and Hannah. Beau sat to Hannah’s left, shooting you a smirk every now and then as he watched you fidget with your hands.

“It’s almost tiiiiime…”

“Oh, shut it, Maxwell.” Allie snipped. “She’s nervous enough as is.”

Beau opened his mouth to retort, but the lights dimmed, signaling the introduction of the players.

As the announcer introduced the Briar University Hawks, the arena erupted in enthusiastic cheers. The players took the ice one by one, and as Dean skated forward, you swore you could feel your heart stop.

He waved, scanning the crowd before ultimately spotting you. His demeanor shifted entirely, stopping in his tracks momentarily.

You sent him a shy smile, and it was if a switch flipped. He immediately became twice as pumped, pointing in your direction and sending you a wide smile before entering their starting lineup.

When he pointed to you, you couldn’t care less about the hundreds of people now staring directly at you. The only thing that truly mattered was being here, supporting your favorite guy, and watching Briar U take the championship.

As the game progressed, Dean was on fire. His assists were all perfect, and he managed to score two goals of his own. After each one, he’d point right back at you as you jumped up and down and dedicated each goal to you.

The final buzzer sounded- Briar won 6-4.

The team rushed to the ice, cheering and hollering as they huddled in the middle. As you walked to the end of the row where the gate was that led out, you saw Dean standing still at the corner of the rink.

He seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, tossing his hockey stick at Tucker and setting his helmet on the ground before skating with a purpose toward the connecting gate.

“Hey, man, don’t you wanna celebrate?” Garrett called from the center of the ice.

“I got my girl, dude. That’s all the celebration I need.”

As if you could read his mind, the two of you reached the gate at the same moment. Instead of pushing it open like you thought he would, he grabbed your waist instead, hoisting you up and into his arms.

“You did it!” You grabbed his face in both hands, smiling up at him.

“You’re wearing my jersey.”

“Yes, very observant of you, Dean.”

“Does this mean-“

“I think you’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

He smiled, but instead of going to kiss you like you thought he would, he brought his forehead to yours instead.

“If we do this, just know that this is it. You and I, forever. Nobody else. Until we’re old and wrinkled.”

You laughed. “Yes, until we’re old and wrinkled. I choose you, Dean.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the entire time you were talking, muttering an, “I love you so fucking much.” Before finally, finally bringing your lips together.

The remaining crowd around you, including your friends, cheered at the scene. Jules caught the whole thing on camera, the rest of the hockey team whistling and hollering behind you.

As you broke apart, you stayed close together, cocooned in your own little bubble. He twirled you on the ice as both of you giggled uncontrollably, finally able to just be in love and proud of it.

The fling, the breakup, the championship, all of it led to where you were now.

Your story with Dean is only just beginning, and you can’t wait to see what’s next.

<3