#(I did it from the website to cheat)

[destiel-wings]

Dean Winchester & hug dynamic analysis

I was thinking about how whenever Dean hugs someone he's almost always the one hugging the other and how this links to his psychological trauma of always being the caretaker of people, making himself bigger to protect them.

Because that's how Dean sees himself, as a shield for others, and then I thought about how Cas actually is the shield, and he's HIS SHIELD, specifically, the only one who's really there to protect HIM, which is why it hits so much when we see this:

The way Cas wraps his arms around him, trying to protect him with his whole body--that he'd use as a shield and give up in a second if he could spare him from any pain and save him.

(for context: Dean was about to go use the soul bomb on Amara there, it was a suicide mission)

Bobby is another one that hits, he hugs him as the big hugger because he's his father, he loves him and he's actually here to protect him (and Dean LETS him -barely, but he lets him *and Cas* - in a way that he doesn't let Sam)

I watched a compilation of Sam & Dean hugs to check if i was right about it, but it's almost always Dean the big hugger with Sam, except when he's about to die or Sam sees him alive again after losing him.

Even then, Dean mostly tries to hug Sam as the big hugger anyway, with at least one arm, like a way to comfort him, making him feel protected, like his body language is saying "I'm here, I'm okay, I'm still strong, i can still protect you" (because their real father failed and Dean thinks it's his job).

He rarely lets himself be the little one hugged with Sam, unless he's barely conscious. Which is why it kills me so much more now that in this moment (s14, when Dean was going to lock himself in the Ma'lak box cause he was possessed by Michael) and Sam has a desperate breakdown and punches him (to stop him) he forcefully hugs him as the little hugger, the way Dean always kept him, like a way of saying "I still need you to protect me, please don't do this to yourself".

In the scene below he gives Sam his blessing to do a dangerous (possibly suicidal) mission, and one of his arms is down, but the other one tries to stay up--he's forcing himself to do it and he struggles because he still wants to protect him, but (as the seasons progress) he slowly becomes more prone to let go.

So in this view the hug dynamic becomes an indicator of how Dean sees Sam (and himself) and his protector role, how adult and self sufficient he considers Sam, and how much he lets people around him take care of him, lowering his walls and letting himself be hugged.

This is also why i think hugs from characters like Garth or Charlie are so special, because they're just like us: they see Dean and they just know that he needs to be hugged a lot, and that he's not used to it, so they just go for it-- and it's so normal and kind and spontaneous that Dean's just not used to it-- he doesn't know how to respond (especially with Garth, at the beginning, but as the seasons progress, he learns to, and he even initiates the hug eventually).

I love the hugs where they're 50/50 (one arm up, one arm down both), feels like they're equals, both taking care of each other. I feel like with Sam and Dean, this indicates a healthier dynamic, because Dean lets go a little of the role that was imposed to him and manages to see Sam as the strong individual that he is. But the same applies to 50/50 hugs with other characters, like with Cas, where I feel like it testifies how equals they feel in terms of being fighters, there's a show of respect of each other's strength that transpires by the gesture (which is even more astounding considering that Cas is literally a powerful angel).

And just to end on a destiel note, I'd like to note the possessiveness and protectiveness of Dean (rightfully so) whenever he finds Cas after he thought he had lost him, and how that translates into his body/hug language:

[miange1]

I FEEL LIKE FUCKIN' SMTH

owners dish. . . : incel bf x popular male reader. pt. 1 here

side dishes. . . : jealousy sex, sex toys, going too far, dacryphillia, masochism, doxxing, spreading rumors online, ruining reputations, scent kinks, hentai addictions used for cope, ignoring partners, yada yada, genuine delusion, like said he is a dick but is still sweet enough to the only person who genuinely likes him

owners note. . . : i did NOT try w ts. i never proofread

incel bf, who hated your friends. he wanted all of them gone. he hated how close you were to them, hugging them and making them seem like 'bro hugs', constantly hanging out with them, they saw you naked everyday in those cursed locker rooms. it was a terrible feeling that he had to..share you with others. others got to smell you, touch you, it was unfair. he was the one who made you feel good, not them. you were doing this on purpose. you had to be.

incel bf, who watched from the shadows like he used to. never approached you anymore, it truly worried you but he didn't believe that. this was all some game, you didn't really like him did you? there was that one best friend you had. jason, was it? yeah, he has a lot of info on jason. about a year ago he cheated on his current girlfriend with multiple women and men, not only that but he has an entire history of cheating. he could expose those girls too. he knew where they lived and where he lived. if jason wanted to ruin his relationship, so be it.

incel bf, who only finally talked to you after everything spread out. that jason boy wasn't talking to you so there were no overthinking or distractions and he didn't have to jerk off to hentai characters thinking of you. it was sad, truly. purposely ignoring your texts and joining anime porn addicted discord servers to relieve the pain and problems he caused. jerked his dick pathetically limp.

incel bf, who had you spread out on the bed while asking constant questions. questions you couldn't even comprehend because these abnormally large and painful toys were filling you up so bad you couldn't think. the buzz of two vibrators shoved up you seemed to clock your ears, "did— did you like that jason guy? what, is he your favorite now!?" you didn't know, didn't know what he meant! your spit gathered onto your chin from the extended gag shoved in your mouth, blindfolded and tied back too. "he didn't have you like this..he..he..he couldn't, could he? im not a joke to you am i?"

incel bf, wanted to embarrass you. have you feel like he did. those stupid (anime) porn websites on full blast through his computer speakers, his pervy giggles slipping through. "h-hear that? you sound exactly like this..no one knows how hot i get you.." he leaned his head down, his fingers tapping at the slit of your dick, that awkward smile on his face as your cum stickily connected to his fingers. you were so cute. muffled and gargled begs and your body moving all from this feeling. "you're too cute..m-maybe i should keep you here forever."

incel bf, knew he went too far..he was really sorry he didn't mean to get all jealous like that. he gave you all the kisses and cuddles after all the pain. but you still weren't seeing that guy again.

[theabigailthorn]

We know you were on accutane. Stop lying

not that it would matter if I had, and not that it's any of your business, but I have in fact never taken accutane.

This is a useful teaching moment though, because what you're doing is a well-studied phenomenon in digital media called 'policing fake femininity.' It's a thing people do to women in the public eye, a specific kind of criticism centred around accusations of being inauthentic, fake, or having cheated in some way. Often it's men doing the policing but women do it to each other a lot too, there are whole websites dedicated to it in fact. Often those criticisms centre around our appearances, as yours did here.

It's sometimes a response to perceived inequality, of which there is plenty! Women in the public eye - myself included - do benefit from a lot of privilege. I've always been quite open about that. People who engage in that kind of public bullying often tell themselves that because of the privilege (or perceived privilege) of their targets the fake femininity policing is socially justified, or the fault of the target. But it doesn't really do anything to correct the structural problems that give rise to that inequality.

In their paper "Policing Fake Femininity," scholars Brooke Duffy, Kate Miltner, and Amanda Wahlstedt say,

“The solution to the structural concerns associated with capitalist patriarchy is not, we contend, to label individual influencers “stupid famewhores” and disparage their mental health in ways that invoke the spectre of hysteria (e.g., “batsh*t crazy,” “delusional,” and “lunatic”). As Chemaly [Rage Becomes Her, 2018] argues, it is necessary that girls and women express their anger, but such a directive “is not an endorsement of unbridled rage, or permission to deliver a swift roundhouse kick to the face of anyone who upsets you, or to regularly fill the spaces you live and work in with hostility and discomfort.” While venting anger at these influencers and their purportedly questionable choices may provide some form of much-needed catharsis, such gender-coded vitriol amplifies the rampant misogyny and toxicity that women already face in online environments.”

If you'd like to know more, I recommend:

Steve Cross & Jo Littler, “Celebrity and schadenfreude: The cultural economy of fame in freefall,” in Cultural Studies

Brooke Duffy, Kate Miltner, & Amanda Wahlstedt, “Policing “fake” femininity: Authenticity, accountability, and influencer anti-fandom,” in New Media & Society

[thedensworld]

Illogical Project | C.Sc

Pairing: Ceo! Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, stranger to crush

Summary: It was just a project to get rid of a side chick, but Seungcheol fall. Deeply.

I was having so much fun writing this! Part 2 yall ask is here

Seungcheol didn’t have to do this. But he needed to do it. Logic flew right out the window the moment he’d typed your name into the company group website. Imagine his surprise when your profile popped up, revealing you were part of the marketing team—under his own label, no less.

The woman sneaking around with his cousin’s fiancé was one of his employees?

Seungcheol let out a dry laugh. Well, this just got interesting. It shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of you.

It has been two years since Jiyeon, his cousin, and Jeonghan got engaged. Their engagement had been more of a business deal than a love story. And although Jiyeon’s engagement to Jeonghan was supposed to be purely transactional, it had been a lifesaver for Seungcheol. Thanks to her, he no longer had to endure his grandfather’s endless nagging about getting married.

But then, yesterday happened.

“Jeonghan’s been cheating on me!” Jiyeon had wailed, storming into his office like a whirlwind. Seungcheol hadn’t thought much of it—Jiyeon tended to exaggerate. He’d been about to brush it off with some nonchalant comment until she hit him with: “I think I’m going to call off the engagement.”

Hold up. What?

That wasn’t part of the plan. Jiyeon couldn’t break off the engagement! Without it, Seungcheol’s peace and freedom would go down the drain. He’d be right back to enduring those endless blind dates set up by his grandfather. Dinners with girls whose names he’d forget before dessert even arrived. Absolutely not.

Which led him to this moment, finding you—Jeonghan’s secret girlfriend. His smirk widened. If cutting you out of the picture meant keeping Jiyeon on board, then so be it. He’d convince you to take your cheating ways elsewhere.

Who would’ve thought his biggest problem was one of his own subordinates?

If anyone could see him now—Seungcheol, the company CEO, scrolling through employee profiles like a suspicious boyfriend—it would be mortifying. But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. And there was no way he was letting his hard-earned freedom slip away because of Jeonghan’s wandering eyes and your sneaky rendezvous.

*

"Mr. Choi has been acting strange lately," your manager said as she returned from his office, a puzzled look on her face.

"He’s refused every ad plan we’ve pitched to him. And now he’s specifically asked for you to handle it."

Your brows shot up in surprise as you pointed at yourself. “Me?”

“Yes, you. He wants you in his office in ten minutes—with the best idea you can bring to the table.”

“Wait, ten minutes?!” You shot up from your chair, scrambling to find the folder you always kept at your desk. Panic set in as you grabbed your iPad—your lifeline filled with every concept, draft, and half-baked idea you’d ever had. “Why are you just telling me this now?”

Ms. Shin shrugged nonchalantly, already turning her attention back to her own tasks. “It slipped my mind. Good luck!”

You let out a frustrated sigh. Typical Ms. Shin. She was a perpetual headache wrapped up in business casual attire. Just yesterday, she’d dumped her entire presentation prep on you, claiming she was “too busy” to handle it herself. Never mind the fact that you were the one who’d developed almost every campaign concept the department had used for the past two years.

But still, you remained a shadow. Despite your efforts, you were practically invisible in the department—overworked and unnoticed.

As you rushed to the elevator, the thought crossed your mind: Why did Mr. Choi want to see you now?

Was he starting to see through Ms. Shin’s facade and realize where the real work was coming from? Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. This could either be a breakthrough… or a complete disaster.

Jeonghan used to tell you a lot about Seungcheol, his college friend. From what you’d heard, Seungcheol was the embodiment of professionalism. He wouldn’t judge you for staying in the shadows to support your boss all these years, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. The truth was, you didn’t know him well enough to understand what went on in his mind.

To you, Mr. Choi was just your boss’s boss—the executive you occasionally spotted from a distance as he strode through the office with that air of authority and responsibility. He was the face of Heidos Food, a man who commanded respect and led by example. His dedication and work ethic were part of the reason you’d decided to join this label among the Heidos Group’s many subsidiaries.

Taking a deep breath, you managed a smile at his secretary. “Mr. Choi is expecting me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The secretary gave a curt nod and led you to the door. You couldn’t help but feel small as you stood before it, staring at the imposing wood panel. The secretary knocked gently and stepped aside, motioning for you to enter.

This was it—your first time stepping into the office of the man who practically ran the entire division.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you took a deep breath and stepped inside.

What could he possibly want from me?

"It was disappointing, Ms. Ji."

Your heart sank as Mr. Choi’s voice sliced through the silence after you wrapped up the impromptu presentation.

“I don’t see your idea being as innovative as I expected. The format feels repetitive—similar to every program the marketing department has produced over the past few years.”

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to argue. How could you not? Internally, you were screaming. Of course, everything looked the same—they were all your ideas! Yet, it wasn’t like you could point that out to him.

Instead, you forced yourself to respond with a calm, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mr. Choi tapped his pen thoughtfully against the desk, his gaze never leaving your face. “But,” he continued slowly, “it does have potential. It just needs a bit more… observation and refinement. Do you think you can handle this project, Ms. Ji? It’s rather risky.”

His question caught you off guard. Risky? Since when did Mr. Choi—who typically preferred playing it safe—assign risky projects to subordinates? Still, you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

“I’m confident I can handle it, sir. If you trust me, I’ll deliver.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “Good. In that case, pack some clothes. We’re going to Singapore for a seminar tomorrow.”

What?!

You blinked at him, stunned. Singapore? Tomorrow? You hadn’t even processed what just happened before he dismissed you, turning his attention back to his paperwork as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

*

Seungcheol had no idea where your confidence came from. He’d incidentally overheard your phone conversation with Jeonghan earlier, and it was all sweet and annoyingly romantic.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly accidental. Maybe he intentionally eavesdropped—just a little—but who could blame him? He couldn’t believe how bold you were to have such an intimate call with Jeonghan right in front of him.

So, people are right when they say love is thrilling when you’re playing with fire, he mused, his annoyance growing.

"You should pay attention to her more," he heard you say, your voice dropping to a softer tone that made Seungcheol’s scowl deepen.

Then you added, with a laugh that sounded entirely too carefree, "You’re right, I’m the better companion."

He felt his jaw clench involuntarily. Companion, huh? The nerve of you—being all cozy with Jeonghan right under his nose. He was already irritated by this whole situation, but now he had to endure your lovey-dovey chatter too?

“Alright, I gotta go. Bye... Have a nice day!” you finished, your voice as sweet as honey.

The moment you hung up, Seungcheol snapped himself into a more composed posture, acting as if he hadn’t just been caught leaning against the wall, listening like a gossip. He made a show of dropping himself onto the couch in front of you.

To his further irritation, you looked up with an even brighter smile.

“What should I do today, sir?” you asked, voice cheerful and professional, as if you hadn’t just been caught cooing over the phone.

Seungcheol had to think. There was really nothing too strenuous on the agenda for you today, but a part of him—call it the vindictive part—wanted to see you squirm, especially after witnessing your little show of affection for Jeonghan.

“Take notes on everything,” he ordered, watching your expression closely. “Mingle with everyone. Join every discussion. Since I’ll be attending a separate meeting, make sure you don’t make a fool out of our company. Got it?”

You nodded and jotted everything down like the diligent employee you were. “Okay, noted, sir.”

Seungcheol let out a sigh, not quite satisfied with the reaction—or lack thereof. “Can I trust you with this?”

Your smile remained unwavering as you met his gaze. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Something about your calm composure only made him want to push you further.

How could you be this unbothered?

On the last day of the seminar, Seungcheol could hardly believe it when his company was presented with an award of appreciation—all thanks to your hard work over the past few days. He had known you were good, but he hadn’t expected you to exceed everyone’s expectations this much.

But what truly grated on his nerves was the way people kept talking about you: “That woman with brains, bravery, and beauty,” they said, almost in awe.

Is this a business seminar or some kind of beauty pageant? he grumbled internally, irritated by how many times he’d heard those words. Every time someone praised your creativity and wit, it felt like another jab. Yet, even he couldn’t deny you deserved the recognition. The achievement might have been unexpected, but it wasn’t entirely surprising.

Now, he found himself sitting at a high-end restaurant for lunch, just hours before their flight back to South Korea. You sat stiffly across from him, clearly uncomfortable. After refusing his invitation five times and trying to hitch a ride to the airport with his secretary instead, here you were—reluctantly.

“You can choose whatever you’d like, Ms. Ji. You’ve earned it,” Seungcheol said, not looking up from his menu as he spoke.

You mumbled a polite acknowledgment, your gaze glued to the menu. Seungcheol raised his hand to call the waitress over and glanced at you, waiting for your order. His eyes widened in surprise when you rattled off your request in perfect, fluent Malay.

“Wait—you can speak the language?” he asked, caught off guard.

You nodded casually. “Yes, I studied and graduated here.”

“Hmm,” Seungcheol murmured thoughtfully. He tapped his fingers against the table, considering your response. “With that kind of portfolio, you could easily settle into a bigger company. Why stay at Heidos Food?”

To his surprise, you shook your head, rejecting the notion. “No, Heidos Food is the perfect fit for me.”

Seungcheol raised a brow. He couldn’t tell if you were just being polite or genuinely meant it. “And why is that?”

You paused, looking a little hesitant before speaking. “Five years ago, I had just graduated, and I attended the company’s anniversary event with someone I knew. I saw your speech there—it was incredible. It motivated me to become a part of Heidos Foods. I applied several times, went through multiple interviews, and finally got my position three years ago.”

Seungcheol didn’t like the way your story painted him as an integral figure in your career choice. He didn’t want to think he was that important. And yet, there was no denying that something about the way you spoke made him pause. He found himself strangely flattered—and maybe a little more intrigued than he wanted to admit.

He glanced away, clearing his throat. Stop it, Seungcheol. She’s not special.

But the thought wouldn’t leave him. He kept stealing glances at you, wondering how he had overlooked these little details about you. Maybe there really was something to what everyone kept saying: brains, bravery, and beauty—all rolled into one package.

No, he told himself sternly. Focus.

Slowly, Seungcheol found himself losing sight of his initial motive for getting to know you better—the desire to uncover the truth behind your connection with Jeonghan. As he spent more time with you, your charm and intelligence began to weave a spell around him, shifting his focus from suspicion to genuine curiosity.

The more he learned about you, the more he realized how difficult it was to see you as just a subordinate or a rival in Jeonghan’s affections.

He hadn’t planned on feeling this way, and it unsettled him. What started as a calculated move to monitor your interactions had transformed into something entirely different.

Seungcheol caught himself daydreaming about your conversations, replaying moments that made him smile. He was drawn to you in ways he hadn’t expected, and that realization left him both exhilarated and confused.

As his initial purpose faded into the background, a new question took root in his mind: What if getting close to you had become the most intriguing project of all?

*

“Can you send Ms. Ji to my office after this? There’s something I need to discuss with her.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she just left the building a few minutes ago due to personal business. She didn’t provide any details.”

Seungcheol nodded in frustration as Ms. Shin, your manager, wrapped up her paperwork. It had been two weeks since the two of you returned from the business trip, and he still found himself at a crossroads. He was working diligently to create a void that would justify getting rid of you, especially concerning your relationship with Jeonghan.

Alright, if he could be honest; he didn’t want to lose a gem like you from the company. The idea of you being Jeonghan’s “side chick” was almost infuriating, especially given your intelligence and undeniable beauty.

Yeah, Seungcheol couldn’t deny that your beauty truly shone when you were focused on your work, and he found it charming every time he handed you a new challenge.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a call from Jiyeon, his cousin. He picked it up, immediately greeted by her sobs.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Jeonghan…” Jiyeon cried, her voice trembling as she choked out his name.

“What did that bastard do now?”

There was no immediate response, just the sound of her muffled cries. Then, through the tears, Seungcheol finally heard her say, “He had a car accident after we fought. He’s in the hospital now.”

Within moments, Seungcheol found himself standing outside the operating room with Jiyeon by his side. To his surprise, he spotted you sitting quietly in a corner, clearly distressed. So here you were, the “personal business” Ms. Shin had mentioned.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on Jiyeon’s shoulder and guiding her away from the waiting area. He handed her a can of soda as they sat down together.

“We fought on the phone,” Jiyeon explained, her voice still shaky. “I mentioned his side chick, and he denied it. He said he had no one besides me. I didn’t believe him, and then he said he would explain everything when he came to my office, but he got into a car accident.”

Seungcheol nodded, processing her words. “Y/N was there,” he said, gesturing toward you in the corner. “Y/N. She’s the one Jeonghan was supposedly seeing,” he added, his voice laced with confusion.

Jiyeon’s brow furrowed in frustration as she shook her head. “No, they are siblings. They have the same mother,” she sobbed, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? They’re siblings?”

“Yes,” Jiyeon replied, her expression a mixture of sadness and relief. “That explains everything. I thought he was cheating on me, but it turns out he was just trying to protect her.”

The weight of this shocking revelation shifted the tension in the room, leaving both of them momentarily speechless. Seungcheol leaned back against the wall, trying to digest the news.

Jiyeon wiped her tears, glancing toward you again. “I need to talk to her,” she said, determination filling her voice. “She deserves an explanation.”

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe this would clear the air and mend the rift between you.

*

"Has she done this a lot to you?" Seungcheol heard your voice coming from inside the room as he and Jiyeon were about to enter. Both of them paused instinctively, hovering just outside the door.

"She accused you of cheating. She put you in this situation!" Your tone was laced with a rage Seungcheol had never heard from you before. There was an intensity, a fierceness in your voice that was completely unfamiliar to him.

"I could’ve lost you…”

Jeonghan’s voice was soft, barely audible, as if trying to calm you down. “I’m fine, Y/N. I promise. It’s not her fault.”

Jiyeon, who had been poised to enter the room, suddenly froze, her eyes widening in realization. She glanced at Seungcheol, and he could see the confusion and guilt reflecting in her gaze. Before she could turn away, you stepped out of the room, your eyes red and swollen. The sight of Seungcheol and Jiyeon standing there, having clearly overheard the conversation, caught you off guard, but you quickly composed yourself.

You cleared your throat and walked past them with your head held high, your expression a perfect mask of indifference, as if you didn’t realize—or perhaps didn’t care—that they’d been listening in.

Seungcheol watched you go, his mind spinning. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the college days when he and Jeonghan had shared a dorm room. As the only Korean students on campus, they naturally gravitated toward each other. He recalled Jeonghan often mentioning his younger sister—a sibling from the same mother who was in middle school at the time. Seungcheol had never met her, but from Jeonghan’s stories, it was clear how much he treasured her.

"I get a headache every time she doesn’t pick up my call!" Jeonghan would grumble late at night, throwing his phone down in frustration. “She’s so stubborn, but she’s all I’ve got.”

And now, it all clicked into place. The sister Jeonghan had spoken of so fondly, the one he worried about constantly, was you. You, the woman who had captivated his attention with your intelligence and charm, were Jeonghan’s sister. Someone who had been right under his nose this entire time.

*

The hum of the office printer was the only sound in the room as you carefully gathered the documents you needed to submit. Steeling yourself, you walked to Seungcheol’s office and knocked gently before stepping inside.

Seungcheol glanced up from his computer when he heard the door open. The usual lighthearted banter that had developed between the two of you was noticeably absent as you approached his desk and placed the file in front of him.

“Here’s the proposal, sir. It needs your signature,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the document and not on him.

Seungcheol picked up the pen, his gaze shifting between the file and your calm, composed demeanor. After scribbling his signature on the dotted line, he cleared his throat, an awkward tension hanging between you two.

“Is… Jeonghan doing better?” Seungcheol asked cautiously, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice finally holding a hint of warmth. “He’s recovering well. The doctors said he’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

Seungcheol nodded, a small wave of relief washing over him. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad he’s getting better. If you need more time off, just let me know. I know you’ve been the one taking care of him.”

You shook your head gently. “No, thank you. There’s already an assigned nurse for him. I’ll be back to work as usual.”

The air between you two was thick with unspoken words and awkwardness. Seungcheol felt the weight of everything he had said and done, of the suspicion that had once tainted every interaction he’d had with you. He knew it was his fault the dynamic between you had shifted so drastically, and now, he was fumbling, unsure of how to bridge the gap he had created.

“I—” Seungcheol hesitated, his usual poise and confidence faltering. “I know I messed up… and I don’t blame you if things don’t go back to the way they were. I just… I miss the way we used to work together, the way we used to talk.”

You blinked, taken aback by his admission. But even then, you didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm you used to. Instead, you offered him a small, understanding smile.

“Thank you for understanding, sir,” was all you said before you excused yourself and walked out of his office.

Seungcheol watched you go, the emptiness in his chest expanding. He had been wrong—terribly, embarrassingly wrong—and now he was paying the price for his foolish assumptions. He had shattered the easy camaraderie that once existed between you, and now, he was left with the cold, polite exchanges that felt more like a punishment than anything else.

You were here, right in front of him, but you felt more distant than ever.

*

You knew exactly what had been happening to you, but you tried to deny it until it finally affected you like it did today. Ms. Shin had already lectured you with words you never imagined she would use, all because of a rare moment of clumsiness that you didn’t even see coming. You had too much on your plate, and the project Mr. Choi had assigned to you was nearing its deadline. In the midst of it all, you accidentally forgot to send an anniversary message to one of your most loyal clients, and Ms. Shin had to do damage control.

“They were very offended, Y/N,” Ms. Shin snapped, her voice carrying throughout the office as she reprimanded you in front of everyone. You stood there, hands clasped in front of you, listening to her and internally cursing yourself for letting things slip, all because you couldn’t get Mr. Choi’s words out of your mind.

“I miss the way we used to work together.”

“I miss—”

“I’ll be reporting this to HR. I can’t handle this kind of negligence anymore.” Ms. Shin concluded sharply, her words reverberating through the office. A collective gasp came from your colleagues, who were too stunned to react.

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in the HR director’s office, replaying Ms. Shin’s words in your mind. You expected another round of the same scolding, but what came next blindsided you completely.

“We’ve received reports about you neglecting your responsibilities over the past three months, and unfortunately, we can’t tolerate this any longer. Please clear your desk before the workday ends,” the HR director said, his tone dismissive.

“What?” The shock was apparent on your face. No warning letter, no opportunity to explain—just an immediate termination.

“You’re firing me?” you whispered, still in disbelief.

“Effective immediately.” His tone was final, and there was no room for negotiation. You were jobless. Just like that.

You felt a scream building up inside you, a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to release. Anger, frustration, betrayal—every word they’d said felt unfair, and you were powerless to fight it. Who were you to contest it? Just another employee, replaceable, forgotten.

By the time you made it home, Jeonghan was the first to greet you, his face lighting up in surprise. “You’re home early?” he chirped, clearly not expecting you at this hour. Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, he had been staying at your place, recovering until he could get around without any help.

His smile quickly faded when he noticed the cardboard box in your hands. His expression crumpled with worry as you dropped the box onto the table with a heavy thud. “Are you… fired?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

You nodded, letting out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, they fired me. Fuck Heidos. I’m going to start my own advertising company!”

Jeonghan blinked, caught off guard by your outburst. “Alright, slow down. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but what happened?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You shrugged, collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. The last thing you wanted was to relive today’s events by recounting them to your brother. You just wanted to forget.

“Does Seungcheol know about this?” Jeonghan pressed on, not noticing how drained you were. “He told me you were handling a project together. Was this his decision?”

“Do you need a marketing staff?” you deflected, throwing the question back at him, trying to steer the conversation away.

“No, I don’t. But if you’re interested, I can make some room for you.”

You shook your head immediately. The last thing you wanted was to work for your brother’s company out of pity or nepotism. It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it before, but joining his business now would feel like a defeat.

“I told you, you could’ve joined my company from the start,” Jeonghan murmured softly, his tone far gentler than before. “The Heidos you were so proud of has finally turned its back on you, huh?”

You groaned and stood up abruptly, your heavy steps echoing through the small living room as you stormed off to your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you, cutting off whatever else Jeonghan had to say.

“Yeah, Heidos finally threw me out,” you muttered bitterly to yourself as you leaned against the door. The company you had dreamed of working for, the place you’d given your blood, sweat, and tears for over the years—had thrown you out without so much as a second thought.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. This was the company you had stayed up nights for, the one you’d gone above and beyond for every single day. You’d fought your way in, made a name for yourself, only to be discarded like you were nothing.

And all you could think about was how everything had spiraled ever since that conversation with Seungcheol. How his simple words had shaken your confidence, distracted you, and caused this downward spiral.

But the worst part?

You still cared what he thought.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall as Jeonghan's words replayed in your mind, taunting you.

Heidos finally turned its back on you.

Was that it, though? Was it really the company you were angry with? Or was there something more?

Your gaze dropped to the floor as a bitter realization crept in. Were you really interested in Heidos all along? Or was it Mr. Choi?

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath, your thoughts drifting back to the first time you saw him in person. It was during Heidos’s anniversary gala, a grand event that showcased the company's milestones.

But there he was—Choi Seungcheol, the CEO’s son, standing on the grand stage, delivering a speech with the kind of charisma that made everyone hang on to his every word. He talked about vision, about passion, about how Heidos wasn’t just a business—it was a dream they all built together.

You remembered the way his eyes scanned the room as if acknowledging everyone’s efforts personally, his voice carrying conviction and authority. He seemed approachable yet untouchable at the same time. There was a spark in him that drew you in, like a flame you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by, even if it meant risking getting burned.

When he mentioned the value of individual contributions, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself as one of those valued employees he spoke of. That night, you had felt an overwhelming sense of pride, a hope that you, too, could be part of something bigger. Part of his vision. It made you work harder, push through every obstacle, and make a name for yourself in the company.

But what if, beneath all those aspirations, it was his approval you were really after?

Had it always been about earning a place at Heidos, or had it been about being acknowledged by him? Did your heart race because of the accomplishments, or was it because of the fleeting interactions you had with him?

You tried to shake off the thoughts, but the memories kept flooding back.

There was the time he complimented your work during a company meeting, the way he’d asked for your opinion during a discussion, and, of course, the project where you saw a different side of him—where he was more than just the stern, high-and-mighty executive everyone knew him as.

"I miss the way we used to work together."

His words echoed in your mind, laced with regret and something you couldn’t quite place. Had you let those words affect you more than they should have? Had you crossed a line somewhere between professionalism and personal admiration?

You huffed out a breath and rubbed your face with your hands. It was hard to admit, but maybe you were chasing after more than just a career.

Maybe it was a person.

“Are you really that naive?” you muttered to yourself, almost laughing at how pathetic it sounded. “You got yourself fired because you couldn’t get over a few words from Choi Seungcheol. Great job, Y/N.”

What had you been thinking? That you meant something more to him? That the way he looked at you was anything other than superficial interest? Maybe you’d been reading into things too much, letting your emotions cloud your judgment.

After all, the way he’d treated you—suspicious, distrustful, wary—it all pointed to how little he thought of you. You were a pawn in his game of protecting Jiyeon. The only reason he ever looked your way was because he thought you were a threat.

And yet… you wanted to believe there had been something more. Something genuine. But now, everything felt tainted.

Because if Heidos was no longer an option, then you’d just have to prove to yourself that you could rise even without the company’s name backing you up.

But first, you’d have to figure out a way to keep your heart in check—especially when it came to him.

“Forget it, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, staring at your reflection in the bedroom mirror. “Forget about Choi Seungcheol. He was never part of your plan, anyway.”

*

It was his first day back in the office after a week-long business trip, and Seungcheol finally had a chance to sit down and get back into his routine. His secretary entered the room with his usual coffee, already prepared with a list of updates and meetings for the day. He rattled them off efficiently, detailing every appointment and task Seungcheol needed to be aware of.

“I want to know the update on the project Ms. Ji is handling,” Seungcheol said, glancing at the folder in front of him, half-expecting to see her familiar name.

There was a brief pause, and when his secretary responded, the answer was something Seungcheol never anticipated.

“She’s no longer part of our staff, sir.”

Seungcheol frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, the question carrying a sharp edge.

“She was terminated a week ago due to negligence in fulfilling her responsibilities,” the secretary explained carefully. “The report came from Ms. Shin, and HR approved it immediately.”

Seungcheol’s scowl deepened, the irritation evident in the tightening of his jaw. He leaned back in his chair, processing the information. “Ms. Ji was managing a critical project with me,” he said, his voice lowering. “Her status required my approval. How is it possible I wasn’t informed about this?”

His secretary’s shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before replying, “I’m terribly sorry, sir. You were occupied with meetings and engagements throughout the week, and I only received the details two days ago myself.”

“Busy or not, I should have been notified immediately.” Seungcheol’s voice was dangerously calm. He glanced at the stack of files on his desk, his mind already racing to piece together what could’ve gone wrong. “I want Ms. Shin and Mr. Kim from HR in my office—now.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary replied quickly, bowing slightly before leaving the room to carry out Seungcheol’s orders.

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to the half-empty coffee cup, his thoughts a blur of anger and disbelief. Fired? For negligence? That didn’t add up. He knew you weren't perfect, but you were dedicated and thorough. You had handled complex projects before, and while you had your flaws, negligence was never one of them.

Something wasn’t right.

The door opened again a few minutes later, and Ms. Shin walked in, followed closely by Mr. Kim. Both looked apprehensive, likely sensing the storm brewing from the tension in the air.

“Explain,” Seungcheol said without preamble, his eyes fixed on Ms. Shin. “Why was Ms. Ji terminated, and why was I not informed?”

Ms. Shin cleared her throat, meeting his gaze with a strained smile. “Sir, there were multiple instances where Ms. Ji failed to meet her deadlines and deliverables, which impacted the team’s performance. I reported this to HR, and after reviewing her recent performance records, they decided to let her go.”

“And whose idea was it to keep this from me?” Seungcheol’s voice was low and dangerous.

“We didn’t intend to keep it from you, sir,” Mr. Kim interjected cautiously.

“The decision was made quickly due to the urgency of the situation. Given that you were away and Ms. Shin was the acting supervisor for that period, we thought it best to handle it internally until we could brief you properly.”

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted between the two of them, his displeasure evident. “I don’t appreciate decisions being made without my knowledge, especially when it concerns a project directly under my supervision. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered in unison, looking visibly uncomfortable.

“Ms. Ji was fired without a formal warning or disciplinary review?” Seungcheol continued, his voice hardening. “Was she given no chance to explain herself or defend her performance?”

Ms. Shin shifted uneasily, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Sir, she had been making several mistakes, and her focus seemed to be elsewhere. It was affecting her work quality. We couldn’t afford to let it slide any longer.”

“Was this decision truly about her work, or something else?” Seungcheol pressed, his gaze narrowing. “Because from what I’ve seen, she was one of the most consistent performers on the team. I want a full report on the matter by the end of today.”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Kim replied quickly, while Ms. Shin’s jaw tightened, her frustration barely masked.

“Dismissed,” Seungcheol said curtly, waving them out of his office.

*

You practically jumped out of your bed when you saw an incoming call from Mr. Choi flash across your phone screen. Heart racing, you scrambled to sit up straight before answering.

“I’m outside your place.”

What?

You blinked, staring at yourself in the mirror in disbelief. Just moments ago, you had been in a post-drama-marathon daze, slouched in bed after indulging in a series binge you could never afford the time for before. And now, the very man who occupied your thoughts far more than he should—the Choi Seungcheol—was calling to announce that he was outside your apartment?

“Uh—can you give me ten minutes? I’m not exactly looking presentable at the moment,” you stammered, glancing down at your wrinkled pajamas and messy hair. Your reflection screamed “I-just-woke-up” and “don’t-look-at-me”.

“I—what I mean is!” You quickly corrected yourself, flustered. “I just woke up, so I might look a little… disgusting.”

The last word fell out awkwardly, and you cringed inwardly. Of all the words you could’ve chosen…

“Take your time, Ms. Ji.” His voice was calm, almost amused. You heard the call click off, leaving you in stunned silence.

Oh God, what was he doing here?

You dashed into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time. The face staring back at you looked different now—the long hair you used to style meticulously was gone, impulsively cut to shoulder length last week in a fit of frustration and exhaustion. You sighed and brushed it diligently, making it look as presentable as possible. Changing out of your pajamas into something more decent—a casual blouse and jeans—you took a deep breath before heading outside.

Stepping out of your building, you spotted his sleek car parked along the road, and there he was—slipping out of the driver’s seat, looking effortlessly handsome despite the casualness of his attire. His usual sharp suit was gone, replaced by a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even without the formal suit jacket, his presence seemed to dominate the entire street. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, struggling to reconcile this man’s unexpected appearance outside your home with the same person you admired from afar at work.

Focus, Y/N.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked, his gaze soft as it met yours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer verbally, so you just nodded stiffly, offering a tight smile. The truth was, you weren’t okay—not even close. And a part of you wanted him to understand that without you having to spell it out. But another part of you was wary, unsure how much he even knew or cared about what happened.

“I just found out about your termination this morning,” he began, and you blinked in surprise. You hadn’t expected this to be the topic of conversation. “I’m so sorry.”

You stood there, rooted in place as you stared at him. What was going on?

“I shouldn’t have let Ms. Shin handle things like that,” he continued, voice low, the frustration evident in his tone. “I knew she’s been trying to drag you down all this time. I knew you were the one carrying the department, handling all the toughest projects… That’s why I’m sorry.”

The Choi Seungcheol, the man who exuded confidence and charisma at every turn, now looked uncharacteristically small and uncertain standing before you. The apology caught you off guard. You had prepared yourself for cold professionalism, or maybe even indifference. But not this.

“I won’t force you to come back to the company,” he said gently. “That’s entirely your choice.”

He paused, looking as if he was weighing his next words carefully, then took a deep breath. “But I don’t want to lose the chance to tell you…”

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to breathe.

“I might like you,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper. “Romantically.”

What?!

The world seemed to freeze around you as you stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. Seungcheol… liked you? The very same Choi Seungcheol who spent years being distant and impossible to read? He liked you, romantically? This couldn’t be real.

“I—I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. “But somewhere along the way, I realized I was looking forward to seeing you every day. You were more than just a competent employee; you were someone I admired. And then… I started to miss you.”

The sincerity in his words left you speechless. You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze as you tried to figure out what to say. Was it possible that you hadn’t just admired him from afar but had harbored deeper feelings too?

“I understand if this is too much for you right now,” he said softly, stepping back as if to give you space. “I just needed you to know… I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when I should’ve been. And I’m sorry that you had to go through all of this because of me.”

His voice was gentle, and for a moment, the street around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in this unexpected moment.

What could you possibly say? Words failed you, so you did the only thing you could—you nodded, acknowledging his apology and his confession, still unsure if you were dreaming or awake.

“Thank you… for telling me,” you managed to say quietly.

Things could never go back to the way they used to be.

[elwensa]

Little Companion (2021)

This is the second Outer Wilds comic I've ever done. You can see I was still a student back then, since it's in full colour lmao

This comic's inspiration was from a concept art: As I was cruising online for find references for Outer Wilds character, I found a concept art of the Hatchling drawn by artist Sojyoo, who draws them with a little plushie attached to their leg, showing "their approximative age and how they cope in space."

I found this idea quite adorable, and did a little sketch of the Hatchling hugging the plushie... and with time, I thought about telling a little story about it. I thought it was interesting to explore the idea that a teenager has to live through this, and having a childhood memory by their side for reassurance. After all, don't we all feel a little bit of comfort with an old plushie?

Then I thought about Solanum, who is also not quite an adult yet, and I thought that he would appreciate that childish comfort as well...

I absolutely cheated when drawing Solanum's mask. I believe I drew it in 3 different angles by tracing a reference, then copy-pasted it on the various panels. If I were to redo that comic, I would've probably just simplify the mask... but hey, it looks accurate!

Also, that lullaby that Hatchling sings is an actual polish lullaby. I am not good at writing songs, so I was looking for an existing lullaby that talks about stars or space. I found this one on an obscure website, and found a flute version on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orOmQPHrlp4

A little note on this comic: I technically made an error by making Solanum say that she's happy to see Hatchy "again". I wasn't that strict with the lore compared to now, and I thought that Solanum could remember their previous interactions, which is wrong. It's not a big deal, but also I don't want to modify the original dialogue, because it would feel wrong to me after so long.

[obsessivelullabies]

⎯ yandere sugar daddy könig.

pairing : könig x fem!reader.

tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, könig x reader, sugar daddy, sugar baby, sugar daddy könig, yandere könig.

prompt : you're a broke college student, you sign up for a sugar daddy website, hoping for a quick coin. however, what you find is an obsessive older man who's willing to provide you with everything you could possibly need.

warnings : daddy kink, yandere behaviors, smut [at the end], size kink, praise kink, breeding kink.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

⎯⎯ college wasn't exactly the best time in your life, you didn't have your parents support, you were working a dead end job with barely enough money to feed yourself. it wasn't until your friend recommended this sugar daddy website did things look up.

⎯⎯ you were contacted by an austrian man who called himself könig. he explained he was a colonel in the military, but he couldn't tell you much else. you would see him when he was home from his deployments. he explained all this over texting, along with his social anxiety problems. you sympathized with him. you had only seen one photo of his face, yet he seemed handsome. he had long hair and a scarred face.

⎯⎯ finally, you agreed to meet könig in person over dinner at a fancy restaurant. you could tell he was anxious to just be around you, considering how he fidgeted throughout almost the whole meal as you two went over the agreement of your arrangement. you were shocked by his height as well, he was 208 cm/6'10, which really stuck out. you decided to not mention it to him.

⎯⎯ he convinced you to only see him, saying he'd pay you enough so you only needed to see him, which slightly relived you. you were to always answer his texts and calls as soon as possible, he'd give you an allowance and similar rules were all agreed upon.

⎯⎯ whenever könig was home, you spent a lot of time with him. he seemed to love having you around, always taking you out shopping, out for meals, having you at his home. you had him wrapped around your finger.

you had just returned from a shopping trip with könig, he set down all the bags of clothes and jewelry he had bought you on the counter. you spent a lot of time at his house, which was stunningly large, despite him living alone.

with a smile on your face, you lead him over to the couch, playfully making him sit down. you straddled him, covering his face with kisses, "thank you, daddy." you cooed sweetly to him. you finally kissed his lips, which he hungrily returned.

"anything for you, liebling.." he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, bringing your body closer to him. you gave his jawline a final kiss before wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling into him.

könig rested his chin ontop of your head, rubbing circles on your back. he tightened his grip on you. you spent a lot of time in the prison of his arms, könig seemed to love holding you, having your body close to his.

⎯⎯ when könig was off on deployment, he would call and text you as much as he could. every free moment he had was spent focused on you. he got angry with you if you didn't answer in a few minutes or less, accusing you of seeing someone else. to which, you'd have to spend hours on a phone call soothing him and his worries.

when you finally picked up your phone, you were met with an irritated sounding könig, "where the fuck have you been?" he hissed.

you took a deep breath, not wanting to react rudely to him. "i was in class, i'm sorry, i just got back to my dorm." your tone was honeyed for him.

his tone didn't soften at all as he replied almost childishly. "it shouldn't have taken you so long, were you with someone?" you understood what he meant. he always assumed you were breaking the rules of your agreement or 'cheating' on him.

you kept your sweet tone, "of course not, daddy.." you pouted. "i've missed you too much, i don't want anyone else. i just want you." you knew exactly what to say. he had done this multiple times.

könig finally softened. "i see.. i've missed you too.. i want to feel you again, i want to kiss you again.." you could feel a hint of sadness in his tone.

"mm, i miss you more! you'll be back next week, right?" you cooed.

könig responded, sounding much happier than before. "ja, will you send me more photos of you, baby? i miss your face.."

you giggled, "of course, daddy." he seemed pleased with that. you spent the next hour and a half on the phone with him, listening to him talk about his day, and telling him about yours.

⎯⎯ the more time you two were together, the more attached könig became. he needed more of you, he wanted all of you. könig would constantly encourage you to blow others off to spend time with him. a few months into your relationship, you had lost ties with most of your outer circle of friends, barely having any time to spare.

⎯⎯ after ten months, he was encouraging you to drop out of college. who needed a silly degree when daddy could take care of you? he wanted you to move in with him. he promised he would take care of your every need and lavish you with affection and gifts.

⎯⎯ during this time, könig got much more affectionate and needy. he became infatuated with you entirely. you were his everything, he made himself the most important thing in your life. könig made sure you had the least amount of time for friends or family as possible.

⎯⎯ now, you spent almost every day and night at his house. the only exceptions were your classes and time you set aside for homework. he always scoffed and whined when you said you had to leave, doing anything to make you stay.

right now, you had a scheduled class. you were supposed to be ten minutes into that class, yet here you were, in könig’s bed, laying underneath him, biting back tears.

“daddy,” you whimpered through your heavy breaths, “it’s not gonna fit!”

könig rubbed circles on your swollen clit as you said this. “shh, schatz, i’ll make it fit. just lay back and relax for daddy, ok?” he reassured, kissing your forehead softly.

you took deep breaths as he slowly jammed his cock into you, your body began to tremble. you let out cries, clawing könig’s back. no matter how much foreplay you got in, you always struggled to take könig’s entire length.

as he fit it all in, he gave you a small kiss. “see, liebling? it’s all in.”

you swallowed hard, nodding slowly. his large hands were gripping your hips as he began to gently thrust into you. you moaned, his thick cock was too much.

“fuck.. you feel so good, schatz.. so tight..” he whispered, quickly speeding up despite your cry of panic.

the sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room as he pounded into you, your cunt crying from the abuse. you dug your nails into his back, now starting to feel a pleasant knot in your belly. you gasped, your back arching into the bed.

“all mine,” he said breathlessly. his grip on your hips tightened as he continued using you like you were his personal fucktoy. “you’re all mine.”

he sped up, much to your own pleasure, the pain had subsided as you moaned and babbled out praise for him, your legs wrapped around him.

you neared your climax, your whole body trembling. “daddy—‘m gonna cum..” you said through your moans, your body clinging to his.

könig kissed you sweetly, despite his animalistic pace. “such a good girl, schatz. cum for me, cum on my cock,” he groaned. your walls clenched around him as you dissolved into your pleasure, tears leaking out onto your cheeks.

as you came, he kept up his unforgiving pace, he let out groans of contentment. he wiped the tears off your cheeks before kissing you softly through your mutual cries of pleasure.

as he continued, he whispered sweet nothings to you until he reached his climax. “‘m gonna pump you full of my cum, alright, engel?” he kissed you passionately, continuing to ram his cock into you. “be a good girl and take all of it, understood?” you couldn’t murmur a response, too fucked dumb from his pounding.

soon, könig came inside you, painting your walls white. he fucked his hot cum into you before finally stopping. after a moment of making sure you took the majority of his cum, he slid his cock out.

könig kissed your forehead sweetly, tucking you into bed and quickly wrapping his arms around you. he lavished kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“this was better than your class, right, liebling?”

masterlist.

[4milly]

make it to morning - jimmy u. 2

gif credit @punksrhea.

the tales of 2 roommates, and 1 man.

warning: unprotected sex, possessiveness, cheating, fingering, sex tapes, pillow talk, oral sex (both m and f receiving), exhibitionism, manipulation, (warnings will update as story progresses)

word count: 9.2k (yes, yes. I know. BUT CMONNN)

idea completely credited to @msbigredmachine <3

three weeks had passed since that night.

the miami summer had settled into its full, oppressive heat. malasia had become a master of avoidance, constructing her life around the space where jimmy might appear.

the first week, she'd booked a hotel room at a budget chain on the boulevard. three nights of scratchy sheets and the distant hum of traffic had cost her nearly a quarter of a website commission, but it had given her space to breathe, to think, to scrub her skin raw in a shower that never quite got hot enough.

she'd told trinity she was visiting a college friend passing through town—a lie that had slipped from her lips with disturbing ease.

the second week, when trinity mentioned jimmy would be staying over the weekend, malasia had packed her laptop and enough clothes for three days, claiming a last-minute business trip to tampa.

she'd actually spent sixty-seven hours in a beachside airbnb in hollywood, fifteen miles north, watching the waves crash against the shore and jumping at every notification on her phone.

by the third week, she'd established a routine. she woke at five am, before trinity or any potential overnight guests might stir. she'd slip out of the apartment in predawn darkness, laptop bag slung over her shoulder, and drive thirty minutes to a coffee shop where nobody knew her name.

asia waited till it was safe: safe meaning trinity would be at work, preparing for the dinner shift at the restaurant. safe meaning no chance of jimmy's matte black g-wagon parked in the visitor's spot.

no chance of them falling onto my bed again.

malasia sat in her usual spot at café mills, staring at her laptop screen without really seeing it. the code blurred before her eyes, her fingers hovering motionless over the keyboard. she'd slept poorly again, dreams filled with jimmy's hands, his voice in her ear, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress.

she'd wake gasping, sheets twisted around her legs, and her arousal staining the bed sheets. she couldn't deny the torturous ache left within her, or the way her pussy would randomly clench around nothing. she felt ruined.

the messages had been relentless. jimmy's name appearing on her phone screen like a haunting, each text more possessive than the last. over 42 text from jimmy within the last few weeks:

the first one innocent enough to make her heart skip before dread settled in: "you good, ma? ain't seen you around."

"missing you mama. been thinking bout how you felt wrapped around me."

"saw you jet out this mornin'. them blue workout shorts look good, baby."

"you thinking bout me, when you touch yo'self? i bet you do."

"this ain't over, asia. y'know that. you can run all you want."

"i miss that pussy so bad. nobody take it, like you do lil mama."

the latest had come with a video—his hand wrapped around himself, stroking himself, his movements moving rhythmically as he called out her name.

"shit, asia. you so fuckin' pretty, baby."

she'd deleted it immediately, but the video had burned itself into her memory.

malasia checked the time—4:17 PM. Trinity should be at work by now, preparing for the dinner rush. she gathered her things, sliding her laptop into its protective sleeve and draining the last of her cold coffee. the caffeine did little to settle her nerves as she contemplated returning to the apartment.

she pulled into her assigned parking spot, noting with relief that trinity's cherry-red audi was gone from its usual place. perfect. she'd have the apartment to herself.

the relief was short-lived.

as she approached their building, she noticed unfamiliar cars in the visitor parking—a white range rover and a silver tesla. probably for other units, she reasoned, quickening her pace. the elevator ride to the fourth floor felt interminable, her heart rate increasing with each illuminated number.

trinity wouldn't be home for hours. the restaurant didn't close until midnight, and trinity usually stayed for cleanup, sometimes joining coworkers for drinks afterward. it was only wednesday—not a night jimmy typically stayed over. the apartment would be empty, quiet, safe.

she stepped inside, dropping her keys into the ceramic bowl on the console table—a habit trinity had insisted upon after finding malasia's keys in the refrigerator one sleep-deprived morning.

the first indication that something was wrong was the music—low, throbbing r&b filtering from the living room. malasia froze, her fingers still on the light switch. the second indication was laughter—feminine, unfamiliar, followed by the unmistakable timbre of a voice that had haunted her dreams for three weeks.

trinity was home. trinity was home with friends. trinity was home with friends and...jimmy.

"well, look who came home," he drawled, his eyes traveling the length of her body with dark eyes

"there she is!" trinity called out, her voice carrying the slight lilt that indicated she was already two drinks in. "the ghost of south beach returns."

beside her sat a girl malasia vaguely recognized from trinity's Instagram—zara or zuri, something with a z—her box braids cascading down her back as she sipped from a wineglass.

malasia's fingers tightened around her laptop bag, knuckles whitening. "I thought… don't you work tonight?"

trinity waved her hand dismissively. "manager had to cut staff. slow night." she gestured toward the kitchen.

"come join us!" the girl on the floor said, as she moved over to make room on the couch for asia

"i—i have work to finish," malasia stammered, eyes darting everywhere but to the armchair where jimmy sat watching her, his dark eyes tracking her every movement. "just gonna head to my room."

"come on, asia," jimmy said, her nickname rolling off his tongue like honey, thick and sweet and dangerous. "one drink won't kill you."

the familiarity in his voice sent shivers racing down her spine. did trinity notice? could she hear the intimacy, the possession in the way jimmy said her name?

"you've been mia weeks. sit down. be human for once," trinity agreed

malasia hesitated, frozen between flight and the social obligation to stay. a third girl emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bottle of wine and an extra glass. she was tall, statuesque, with a crown of natural curls and skin the color of burnished copper.

"you must be the mysterious roommate," the newcomer said, her smile genuine and warm. "i'm nia. trinity's friend."

"malasia," she replied automatically, accepting the glass nia pressed into her hands. "nice to meet you."

malasia found herself seated on the edge of the sofa, as far from jimmy as the furniture allowed, but still within his line of sight. she could feel his eyes on her—hot, possessive, knowing—as she took a sip of wine to wet her suddenly dry throat.

the wine was dry, acidic against her tongue—nothing like the syrupy tequila that had clouded her judgment that night. malasia took another sip, hoping the alcohol might calm her hammering heart.

zuri—that was her name, malasia remembered now—leaned forward, her box braids falling over one shoulder like a glossy waterfall. she wore a cropped sweater that exposed a strip of toned midriff, her nails painted a vibrant coral that flashed like warning signals when she gestured.

"so what do you do, anyway?" zuri asked, her gaze curious and appraising. "trinity says you're always on your laptop, but she's never actually said what you do."

the question was innocent enough, but malasia felt herself tensing anyway.

"i design websites," malasia answered, her fingers tracing the stem of her wineglass. "mostly for small businesses and startups."

"oh, that's dope," nia chimed in, settling cross-legged on the plush rug. her curls caught the light from the floor lamp, creating a halo effect around her face. "freelance? or do you work for a company?"

"freelance," malasia replied, warming slightly to the topic. work was safe. work was neutral territory. "i was with an agency in chicago, but when i moved here, i decided to go independent. more flexibility."

"chicago to miami is a whole vibe change," zuri noted, her bangles clinking musically as she reached for her glass. "what made you leave? the winters?"

malasia's smile faltered, "j—just wanted a change. y'know?"

"ouuu. was it a breakup gone bad? girl don't i know it. niggas are thee worst." nia chimed in, throwing back her last gulp of wine

malasia shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of jimmy's unwavering gaze from across the room. his jawline had tightened, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly at the mention of her past.

"it wasn't that dramatic," malasia offered, focusing on the crimson liquid swirling in her glass. "just a relationship that ran its course after five years."

"five years?" nia whistled low. "that's practically a marriage in today's dating world. what happened? he cheat?"

the wine suddenly tasted bitter on Malasia's tongue. marcus hadn't cheated—that would have been simpler, cleaner somehow. instead, he'd simply stopped seeing her, as though she'd gradually become transparent over the years until one day, she was completely invisible to him.

"he just…decided he didn't want the same things anymore," malasia said carefully, aware of how jimmy had leaned forward in his seat, hanging on her every word. "said he wasn't ready for the next steps."

"sounds like some weak shit to me," jimmy continued, his voice dropping an octave lower. "real man knows what he wants. takes it. keeps it."

malasia swallowed hard, the wine turning to ash in her mouth. every word felt like a secret message meant only for her, laden with memories of his hands on her body, his voice in her ear. she set her glass down with shaking fingers, suddenly desperate for escape.

"maybe yo man just wasn't worthy," he said, still looking directly at malasia while addressing the room. "some women need to be handled right. need someone who knows they value."

"i should really finish this project," she managed, gesturing vaguely toward her laptop bag. "deadline tomorrow."

"girl, it's barely seven," nia protested, reaching for the wine bottle. "the night is young! trinity says your lame, ugh."

"i've been busy with work," malasia defended weakly, avoiding trinity's penetrating gaze.

trinity rolled her eyes, swirling the wine in her glass before taking a deliberate sip. "work, work, work. that's all we ever hear from you. like sitting on your laptop in pajamas all day is such hard labor."

the room fell silent, the music suddenly seeming too loud in the awkward pause. malasia felt heat creeping up her neck, spreading across her cheeks in a flush that was part embarrassment, part anger.

"i mean," trinity continued, leaning back against the couch cushions with casual cruelty, "designing websites isn't even a real job. it's like, what? dragging and dropping pictures and typing some words? my twelve-year-old cousin could probably do that."

jimmy's eyes narrowed slightly, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth. he seemed to be enjoying the show.

"but hey," trinity shrugged, raising her glass in mock toast, "if it keeps the bills paid, whatever. at least your rent checks don't bounce. whatever imaginary job you got, keeps you off your ass forsure."

malasia's fingers curled around the edge of the sofa, nails digging into the fabric. the dismissal of her career—her passion—stung more than it should have. five years of design school, countless all-nighters perfecting her craft, clients who valued her work enough to pay thousands for it—all reduced to "not even a real job."

"damn, trin," nia said, her eyebrows shooting up. "you didn't have to go there."

"what?" trinity's laugh was sharp, defensive. "i'm just saying what we're all thinking. she acts like she's saving someones life or something."

zuri shifted uncomfortably, placing her glass on the coffee table. "i actually think website design is pretty dope. my cousin started an online boutique last year, and the designer she hired made all the difference in her sales."

"thank you," malasia said firmly, finding her voice at last. she stood, gathering her laptop bag, "but trinity's entitled to her opinion. even if it lacks any narrative."

trinity's eyes flashed dangerously. "excuse me?"

"girl, let it go," zuri murmured, placing a cautioning hand on Trinity's arm. "you're being extra right now."

but Trinity shook her off, rising to her feet to face Malasia directly. "i work my ass off serving entitled rich people every night while you sit here in our air-conditioned apartment tapping on a keyboard. don't talk to me about lacking narrative...i know nothing about you."

jimmy leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, watching the confrontation with glittering eyes. the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to slice with a knife.

"exactly. lets keep it like that." malasia stated, before turning on her heels to head to her room.

she didn't miss the audible "bitch" that came from trinity before she disappeared into the hall. she could feel jimmy's gaze burning into her back, tracking her retreat like a predator noting the weakness of its prey.

"you really had to do all that shit?" jimmy finally spoke, his tone carrying a warning edge, "why you care what she do with her life? let the girl work if she wants to. not everyone wanna be apart of that social shit."

malasia waited outside her bedroom door to hear his defense, if it could be called that. it felt worse than trinity's attack. the subtle condescension, the faint note of pity—it all confirmed what malasia had suspected since that night: in jimmy's eyes, she was nothing more than a convenient distraction, a secret to be kept, a weakness to be exploited.

what she didn't expect is moment's later her phone to light up:

you aight mama? you need me?

she face palmed. she didn't know if she wanted to march back in that room and slap the shit out of him, or just scream her head off. she choose better:

don't ever fucking contact me again.

jimmy's response came almost instantly: don't be like that, ma. you know it ain't that simple.

malasia stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the block button. with a decisive press, she blocked his number, then deleted their entire message thread. a wave of relief washed over her, followed immediately by a hollow ache she refused to acknowledge.

she tossed her phone onto the bed and leaned against the door, sliding down until she sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. outside, she could hear the muffled sounds of conversation resuming, trinity's laughter cutting through the music. malasia closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, but instead found herself transported back to that night.

the memory came unbidden–jimmy's hands gripping her thighs, his weight pressing her into the mattress, the way he'd looked at her with such hunger. her body responded traitorously to the recollection, a pulse of heat between her legs that made her press her thighs together in frustration.

"fuck," she whispered to the empty room, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.

the morning after had been worse than the act itself. she'd woken to an empty bed, the only evidence of what they'd done dried on her inner thighs and sheets. her cunt still wet and pulsing in her panties.

trinity had already left for brunch with friends–a small mercy that had allowed malasia to strip her bed without explanation, to scrub herself raw in the shower as if she could wash away the betrayal along with the physical evidence.

she'd turned the shower as hot as she could stand it, steam billowing around her as she stepped under the spray. with trembling fingers, she'd washed away the physical remnants of jimmy—his dried cum, sticky against her inner thighs, dissolving under the relentless water.

but as she'd scrubbed, something unexpected happened. the memory of his hands on her body, his weight pressing her into the mattress, the way he'd filled her so completely—it all came rushing back with an intensity that made her gasp. her nipples had hardened under the spray, her body remembering what her conscience wished to forget.

her fingers has a mind of their own. without a conscious thought, her fingers found her swollen bud. she let out a gasp as she began to rub circles on her clit. she grabbed the shower head off the wall. angling it towards her clit.

asia's quiet moans started to feel the air, she moved two fingers down to her pussy. she was soaked. she'd caught with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle her cries, jimmy's name a forbidden thought she refused to acknowledge. she spread her fingers into a 'v' to stretch herself, the same way jimmy had.

after a few movements, she felt her pussy flutter around her fingers before she clamped down and flooded her hand. her knees buckled from the force, and she slid down the shower wall. letting the water wash away her tears of shame along with the evidence of her weakness.

now, just weeks later, in the quiet sanctuary of her bedroom with jimmy's presence just walls away, the memory of that morning made her face burn with humiliation.

how could her body betray her like that? how could she still feel this pull toward someone who used her for a night and betrayed his own relationship; a secret to be kept from her own roommate?

malasia sat on her bed for what felt like hours. the room getting smaller by the minute.

the distant laughter from the living room eventually faded. asia heard the front door open and close as trinity's friends departed, followed by hushed conversations she couldn't quite make out. she remained motionless on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan's hypnotic rotation until the apartment fell silent.

the digital clock on her nightstand glowed 11:42 PM. she hadn't eaten dinner, hadn't showered, hadn't done anything productive since retreating to her room. her laptop remained untouched in its bag. the client deadline loomed, but her mind refused to focus on anything except the knowledge that jimmy had been just beyond her door, laughing with his girlfriend, while texting her in the next.

asia sat up, running her hands through her hair. sleep seemed impossible, but she couldn't bear being awake with her thoughts anymore. she reached for the small bottle of melatonin on her nightstand—a recent purchase that had become essential.

without it, she'd lie awake for hours, replaying that night, feeling phantom touches on her skin.

she swallowed two gummies, chasing them with lukewarm water from the glass she'd left there that morning. the cherry flavor lingered on her tongue as she changed into sleep shorts and a tank top. the miami heat made anything more unbearable, even with the air conditioning humming steadily.

ss she settled under her thin sheet, ssia tried to quiet her mind. The melatonin would take twenty minutes to kick in—twenty minutes of dangerous thoughts she couldn't afford.

she reached for her phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract herself from the memories that threatened to surface.

eventually, the artificial drowsiness began to take hold. her eyelids grew heavy, her limbs loose and warm. she set her phone aside and surrendered to the chemical calm washing over her. her last conscious thought was relief that tomorrow was thursday—trinity would be working a double shift.

the apartment would be hers. alone.

the sensation came gradually—warm lips against her neck, gentle at first, then more insistent. asia stirred, caught in that hazy space between dreams and wakefulness. the kisses felt so real, trailing down to her collarbone, back up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. the weight on her body seemed substantial, not the phantom pressure of a dream.

her body responded before her mind fully awoke—a liquid heat pooling between her thighs, her nipples hardening beneath her thin tank top. when large hands skimmed down her sides to hook into the waistband of her sleep shorts, reality crashed through the melatonin fog.

her eyes flew open to find jimmy above her, his face half-shadowed in the darkness. he was slowly lowering her shorts and panties in one motion, his movements deliberate, unhurried, as if he had every right to be there.

"what—" she began, but her voice was thick with sleep and confusion.

"shh," jimmy whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "you smell so fuckin' good, ma."

"jimmy," she gasped, her mind struggling against the melatonin haze. "you can't be here—"

he ignored her and continued placing hot kisses along her neck, as she pushed against his chest, "we can't—not again—"

"trinity's right down the hall," he reminds her, his lips brushing against her ear. "you want her to hear how good I'm fuckin' you? hm? you gotta be quiet."

she shook her hand frantically as horror shot down her spine. asia's back arched involuntarily as he curled his finger inside her, finding that spot that made stars explode behind her eyelids. her protest died on her lips, replaced by a moan she couldn't suppress. she heard the faint squelching noises as his fingers moved in and out her pussy.

"you so fuckin' wet, mama. all for me, too. just for me." he whispered into her ear

a moan escaped her lips as his thumb circled her clit. immediately, his large hand covered her mouth, pressing firmly enough to silence her but not enough to restrict her breathing.

"i said quiet," he reminded her, eyes glittering dangerously in the darkness. "you gonna be good for me?"

asia's hands came up to push against his chest, a token resistance that felt more like going through the motions than genuine rejection. his muscular frame didn't budge under her palms.

with one smooth thrust, jimmy buried himself inside her. her back arched off the bed, a scream trapped behind his hand as he filled her completely. he remained still for a moment, savoring the sensation of her cunt pulsing around him.

"there she is," he murmurs appreciatively as her body surrenders. "there's my girl."

asia whimpers beneath his palm, tears now flowing freely down her temples into her hair. the truth of his words cuts deeper than she wants to admit. her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord, pulling him deeper.

"fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. "yo ass so perfect, asia."

jimmy's rhythm was relentless, each thrust driving deeper than the last. His hand remained firmly over her mouth, catching every gasp, every whimper that threatened to escape. the headboard creaked faintly with their movement. they both knew where they'd be heading if they kept up.

"we gotta move," jimmy whispered, his voice rough with desire. "this bed too damn loud, mama."

he withdrew suddenly, leaving her empty and aching. before she could protest, he pressed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. his tongue circling her own, to remember her taste.

"shhh," he whispered against her lips, his voice a low command that sent shivers down her spine. "not one sound. you understand me?"

asia nodded, her eyes wide in the darkness, pupils blown with a mixture of fear and desperate want.

"good girl," he murmured, approval warming his tone as he slid his large hands beneath her thighs.

in one fluid motion, jimmy lifted her into his arms. she wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, feeling his dick press in-between her folds as he stood. her weight seemed inconsequential in his strong grip, his muscles flexing as he adjusted her position.

he carried her across the room in three long strides, her back meeting the cool wood of her bedroom door with a soft thud. the contrast between the cold surface against her shoulder blades and jimmy's burning heat pressed against her front sent shivers racing down her spine.

he adjusted his grip, strong hands cupping her ass, spreading her wider as he positioned himself at her entrance again, "right here, baby. this how i wanna fuck you. wrap your legs around me tight...just like that."

she complied, locking her ankles at the small of his back as he pressed her against the bedroom door. she tangled her hands in his hair as she pressed her lips to his.

shit, what was she doing?

he rubbed himself between her folds, before slamming inside her in one thrust. asia bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out, the sensation of being so completely filled overwhelming her senses. The angle was devastating—deeper than before, hitting places inside her that made coherent thought impossible.

the wet slick of her arousal coating his length with each thrust, the soft thud of her back against the door, their mingled breathing harsh in the darkness.

"look at chu," he growled, his pace relentless as he drove into her. "takin' all of me so good."

jimmy shifted his grip on her thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he adjusted their position against the door. he spread her legs wider, the new angle allowing him to drive even deeper inside her. fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her down onto his cock with each upward thrust.

the obscene wet sounds of their connection filled the darkness—slick, rhythmic squelches that made asia's face burn with equal parts shame and arousal. each thrust forced more of her wetness to coat his length, dripping down to where his balls slapped against her with every deep plunge.

"jimmy," she gasped, her voice barely audible as she fought to keep quiet. her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat to his hungry mouth.

he immediately latched onto her pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a mark she'd have to hide tomorrow. his hips never stopped their relentless pace, the thick ridge of his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside. her pussy gripping him tightly with each withdrawal, only to yield completely as he drove back in.

her wetness had soaked them both, making each thrust smoother, deeper than the last.

"you feel that?" he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper against her ear. "feel how perfect we fit? nobody else makes you this wet, do they?"

asia shook her head, unable to deny the truth of his words. her inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper with each thrust. the pressure was building low in her belly, coiling tighter with each stroke.

"that's right," jimmy continued, his pace increasing as he felt her response. "this pussy's mines. you mines."

she clenched around him greedily, her toes begin to stopped from curling them so tightly, "i can't—" she whimpered, her thighs beginning to tremble around his waist. "it's too much."

"nah, mama," he growled, tightening his grip on her ass. "you can take it. you were made for this dick."

he quickened his pace, fucking into her with abandon now. the slapping sound of skin against skin grew louder, more urgent. asia buried her face against his shoulder to muffle her cries, teeth sinking into his shoulder.

jimmy's hands kneaded her ass, spreading her cheeks further apart as he continued his assault. the position left her completely exposed, completely at his mercy. one of his fingers traced the edge of her puckered hole, before pushing through it making her gasp.

"you like that?" he murmured, watching her reactions carefully even in the dim light. "

she could only nod frantically against his shoulder as pleasure built to unbearable heights. her clit rubbed against his lower abdomen with each thrust, providing the perfect friction to push her toward the edge.

"that's it," he encouraged, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "squeeze this dick, baby. show me how good it feels."

she turned her face to capture his mouth with hers, moaning against his lips as the first tremors of her orgasm began to ripple through her.

jimmy swallowed her sounds, his kiss turning desperate and messy as he felt her tightening around him. "that's it," he encouraged between kisses, "fuck, you squeezin' me so good."

her body tensed, every nerve ending electrified as her orgasm approached. jimmy's rhythm grew erratic, his breathing harsh against her neck.

"goddamn," jimmy groaned against her lips, his rhythm faltering slightly as her pussy gripped him tighter. "i'm about to cum, baby. fuck, i can't—i can't hold it.

his thrusts became desperate, frantic. asia clung to him, her mind spinning between ecstasy and guilt. trinity's face flashed behind her closed eyelids—trinity, who was sleeping just down the hall, whose boyfriend was currently buried inside her. the shame should have doused her desire, but somehow it only intensified the forbidden thrill coursing through her veins.

this is the last time, she promised herself, the same empty vow she'd made that first night. just one more time.

then never again.

no matter how asia felt, the way trinity had dismissed her earlier, talked down to her in front of everyone. the casual cruelty in her voice when she'd called website design "not even a real job." trinity was still her roommate.

and she knew trinity would vow the rest of her fucking life to make asia's a living hell if she knew what was going on behind this door. unaware of the betrayal happening against asia's bedroom door. the guilt sliced through her pleasure for a brief moment.

but fuck it if, she didn't want to scream so loud at the way he was fucking her.

before she could process his words, jimmy pressed a second finger alongside the first into her ass, stretching her deliciously. the dual penetration—his thick length filling her pussy while his fingers worked her other entrance—pushed her beyond coherent thought.

the dual penetration sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her core. her eyes rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm flooded her core. s

he squirted around his dick, her release soaking them both as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. the hot liquid ran down his thighs, dripping onto the hardwood floor beneath them. the intensity of her squirting orgasm took them both by surprise—jimmy's eyes widening as he felt the hot rush of her release bathing him.

she never did that...for anyone.

"ah—i gotta pull out," he panted against her neck, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "shit, i can't stop—you feel too fucking good. that's it, baby. keep cumin for me. that's right."

he tried to withdraw, but asia's legs tightened around him instinctively, keeping him buried deep inside her. his let out choked pants against her neck, as his hips stuttered from her cunt milking him. she felt the hot spurts of his release, filling her completely as he came with a muffled groan against her neck.

she couldn't think. the pleasure was too intense, too all-consuming. her body trembled uncontrollably in his arms, aftershocks rippling through her as jimmy continued to drain himself.

for several heartbeats, they remained frozen in that position—her back pressed against the door, legs wrapped around his waist, his face pressed deeply in her neck. jimmy's fingers slowly withdrew from her back entrance, his softening cock still buried inside her as he pressed gentle kisses along her jawline.

reality began to seep back in as their breathing slowed. the weight of what they'd done—again—settled over asia like a shroud.

jimmy's breath was hot against her ear as he held her against the door, their bodies still joined, both slick with sweat and their combined release. the aftermath of their passion hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

"tell me," he whispered, his voice a rough command that sent shivers down her spine. "tell me how good you felt."

malasia turned her face away, shame burning through her even as her body still trembled with aftershocks. jimmy wouldn't have it. his hand came up to grip her chin, turning her face back toward him.

"nah. look at me when i'm talking to you. tell me how good I made you feel. be honest."

her voice caught in her throat. "jimmy, please—"

tears welled in her eyes, "it felt good," she whispered, the words dragged from somewhere deep inside her. "so good."

a malicious smirk spread across his face. "yeah? what else? tell me how you like it."

"i—i liked when you…" she swallowed hard, the confession burning her throat like acid. "when you filled me up...when you were so deep i couldn't think straight. i've never—" she broke off, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"never what, mama?" he pressed, his free hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top.

"i never came that hard before. so much." she admitted. her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face

his eyes darkened with renewed desire. "that's my girl," he murmured, leaning forward to capture her lips in a possessive kiss. "you were made for me. this pussy was made for me, mama."

jimmy noticed her shudder. he knew she was about to break down into another hysteria of tears like the last time. he needed to talk to her. he knew he couldn't say it right there.

he navigated through the darkness of her bedroom toward the en-suite bathroom, his steps steady and confident, as his softening dick was still slotted inside her. each step sending tiny jolts of pleasure through her oversensitive body.

"what are you—" he silenced her with a hard kiss as he shouldered open the bathroom door. the cold marble counter shocked her heated skin as he set her down, their bodies still connected.

the position pushed him impossibly deeper, drawing a gasp from her lips that he swallowed with another kiss.

with one hand, he flicked on the bathroom light, the sudden brightness making asia blink rapidly as her eyes adjusted. the mirror above the sink reflected their joined bodies—her legs wrapped around his waist, his large hands supporting her weight, both of them slick with sweat and the evidence of their passion.

in the harsh fluorescent light, malasia could see everything clearly now—especially, the possessive gleam in jimmy's eyes. the mirror behind her reflected her flushed face, her swollen lips, her hair wild from his hands.

his hand came up to cradle her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone with unexpected tenderness. then his grip tightened, fingers pressing into her jaw as he forced her to meet his gaze.

"y'know zuri and nia were talking about setting you up with zuri's brother?" jimmy said suddenly, his voice casual but his eyes sharp as blades. "they think you need to get out more. meet someone."

asia's eyes widened in surprise. "what? no, i—"

"you think i'm gonna let that happen?" jimmy continued, his thumb catching a tear as it rolled down her face. "nah. that ain't happening."

a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. expecting her to stay...in whatever bubble she was in? alone at that, all while he was in a relationship was fucking crazy.

his free hand slid between their bodies to where they were still joined, his fingers circling her sensitive clit. asia gasped, her body responding instantly despite her emotional turmoil.

"see how yo body knows?" he whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "how it recognizes who it belongs to?"

"jimmy," she whimpered, her voice breaking on his name.

"you belong to me, yea?" he demanded, his fingers pressing more insistently against her swollen bud while his other hand maintained its grip on her face. "say it."

asia sobbed quietly, torn between the pleasure building again in her core and the guilt crushing her chest. she nodded weakly, unable to form words through her tears.

"nah, that ain't enough," jimmy insisted, his voice hardening. "i need t'hear you say it. who you belong to?"

"you," she finally whispered, the admission dragged from somewhere deep inside her. "i belong to you, jimmy."

satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, his grip on her face softening slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"that's my girl," he murmured against her lips. "that's what I needed to hear."

asia's mind raced, thoughts swirling chaotically despite the renewed desire coursing through her veins. she couldn't deny the physical connection between them—how her body responded to his touch like it had been crafted specifically for his hands—but the reality of their situation couldn't be ignored.

the truth of it burned through her veins like acid—she did belong to him, in ways she couldn't articulate even to herself. Her body had surrendered completely, her will crumbling beneath the force of his desire and her own dangerous need.

asia found her voice, small and broken. "but you…you belong to trinity."

the words hung between them, the elephant that had been in the room since that first night. the betrayal they both participated in, the trust they violated with every touch, every kiss, every shared climax.

jimmy's expression didn't change. his eyes remained fixed on hers, unblinking, unflinching. "so what?"

the casual dismissal hit her like a physical blow. two simple words that revealed the true depth of his character—or lack thereof. She stared at him, seeing him clearly for the first time despite the weeks of obsessing over him, dreaming of him, running from him.

"so what?" he repeated, his thumb wiping

"so what?" she stared at him in disbelief, "are you fucking serious? so fucking what?"

his expression shifted, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. his grip on her jaw tightened fractionally before he released a low, dismissive laugh.

"so what?" he asked again, "that doesn't change what's between us. what's happening right here." he shifted his hips, causing her to shut her eyes tightly, reminding her he was still buried deeply inside her.

the bathroom mirror reflects their entangled bodies—her perched on the counter, legs still wrapped loosely around his waist, his powerful frame standing between her thighs. the image is undeniably erotic— had this all been different; if he was her man, she'd be ready to let him fuck her right on the counter.

but all she feels now is hollow.

"how can you say that?" she asks, another tear escaping despite her effort to hold it back. "how can this be separate? you're her boyfriend, jimmy. this isn't—this isn't right. i'm done doing this."

jimmy leans closer, his breath warm against her lips. "life ain't about right and wrong, ma. it's about what feels good." his thumb traces her bottom lip, still swollen from his kisses. "and this feels good, don't it? me inside you? the way i make you cum?"

he rolls his hips slightly, causing her breath to hitch. her body responds traitorously, inner walls clenching around him even as her mind rebels against his words.

"that's not the point," she insists, trying to ignore the way her body still hums with residual pleasure. "we can't keep doing this. i can't keep doing this."

"you said that last time, remember?," jimmy points out, his smirk growing wider. his hand slides between their bodies, finding her sensitive clit with practiced ease. "yet here we are again."

she tries to shift away from his touch, but the bathroom counter gives her nowhere to retreat. his fingers circle her swollen bud with deliberate pressure as his dick begins to harden inside her again.

"jimmy, i mean it this time," she protests, her voice strained as her body betrays her once more. the tears have dried on her cheeks, replaced by a flush of unwanted arousal. "we can't—i won't—"

but her words falter as he begins to move his hips in slow, measured thrusts. each drag of his length against her sensitive walls sends electric currents racing up her spine despite her determination to resist.

"i thought you didn't want this, mama?" he whispers against her ear, his breath hot against her skin, "why you so wet right now? hm?"

asia turns her face away, shame burning through her even as pleasure builds again in her pussy. "that's just physical," she manages to say, the words sounding hollow even to her own ears. "it doesn't mean anything."

jimmy's laugh is low, dangerous. "then let's make a deal, mama." His pace increases slightly, the wet sounds of their connection filling the bathroom's tiled space. "if you don't cum for me, one mo' time—right now—i'll leave you alone. for good."

she looks at him then, searching his face for any sign of deception. "you're lying."

"nah, I'm serious." his thumb applies more pressure to her clit as his hips maintain their relentless rhythm. "no more texts. no mo' visits. nothin."

the offer dangling before her feels like salvation and torture simultaneously. asia closes her eyes, determined to resist the pleasure building within her. she thinks of trinity sleeping down the hall, of the betrayal that has become a habit, of the self-respect she's sacrificed for these stolen moments.

she tries everything—mentally reciting website code, counting backward from one hundred, focusing on the cold press of the counter against her thighs—anything to distract her.

jimmy seemed to read her mind, changing his angle slightly to brush against her most sensitive spot with each pump.

"that's cheating!," she gasped, her thighs beginning to tremble despite her best efforts, "oh god—i can't—"

she could feel herself getting wetter, her inner walls gripping him tighter with each thrust.

"cum for me, baby. i'm right here, witchu." jimmy encouraged, embracing her into a deep bear hug, "lemme feel it."

she whimpered, shaking her head frantically. but her body had other plans. the pressure built to an unbearable crescendo, her resistance crumbling beneath the relentless assault of sensation. with a broken cry, she felt her stomach tighten before a warmth washed over them and she gushed over his dick.

his eyes gleamed with victory, that infuriating smirk spreading across his face. "your mouth say one thing, but your body tell me truth every time."

asia buried her face into his neck, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Shame and pleasure warred within her, neither willing to claim complete victory. her thighs still trembled from the force of her orgasm, and her cunt still clamping tightly onto his dick.

jimmy pulled out of her with deliberate slowness, savoring the whimper that escaped her lips at the sudden emptiness. their combined releases trickled down her inner thighs, marking her in the most primal way possible.

he stepped back, admiring the sight of her—disheveled, flushed, thoroughly claimed. he bit down on his lip at the sight of her red swollen cunt leaking their combined essence onto the counter.

with unexpected gentleness, jimmy slid his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her from the counter. her legs felt like jelly, unable to support her weight. he carried her the few steps to the toilet, settling himself on the closed lid before positioning her on his lap.

"there you go," he murmured, his large hands spanning her waist. his dick pressed against her ass, already hardening again despite their multiple rounds. "Now you got a choice to make, baby."

asia remained motionless in his lap, her mind a battlefield of conflicting desires. the rational part of her screamed to get up, to walk away, to end this destructive pattern once and for all.

but another part—darker, hungrier—wanted to sink onto him again, to chase that oblivion only he seemed able to provide.

jimmy's hand came down on her ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. his hands gripped her ass possessively, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided her over his still-hard length.

his words hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown down with perfect confidence that she wouldn't—couldn't—pick it up. his hands moved to her hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles on her skin, neither pushing nor pulling, simply waiting.

her breath came in ragged pants as she battled with herself. trinity's face flashed in her mind—the dismissive way she'd talked about asia's career, the casual cruelty in her tone. then Jimmy's words from earlier: "so what?"

malasia stared down at him, her mind a battlefield of contradictions. this was her chance—the moment to reclaim her dignity, to walk away from this destructive pattern. all she had to do was stand up, step back, tell him to leave.

instead, she found herself frozen in place, caught between desire and self-loathing. jimmy's hands rested lightly on her hips now, neither forcing her down nor holding her in place. the choice was entirely hers.

"clock's ticking, mama," he murmured, his thumbs tracing small circles on her hipbones. "what's it gonna be?"

she looks into his eyes, searching for some sign that this is wrong, that they should stop, but all she finds is that same hungry desire that mirrors her own. time stretches between them like a taffy taffy, seconds turning to minutes.

asia crashes her lips against jimmy's, pouring all her frustration and desire into the kiss. it's messy and desperate, teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance. his hands slide up her back, tangling in her hair to hold her closer as they devour each other.

with trembling fingers, she reaches down between their bodies, wrapping her hand around his thick length. he's hot and hard against her palm, pulsing with a life of his own. the familiar weight of him sends a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

she positions him at her entrance, feeling the blunt head press against her swollen folds. despite everything they've already done tonight, her body still craves him with an intensity that frightens her. slowly, agonizingly, she sinks down onto him, taking him inch by inch until he fills her completely.

a small hiss escapes her lips at the delicious stretch, the slight burn of her sensitive tissues accommodating his size again.

"easy, mama," jimmy whispers against her lips

"shut up," she gasps as she continues to rock her hips.

she didn't wanna hear his voice. she didn't even wanna see that stupid dumbass smirk on his face. she wanted to slap him, but fuck him at the same time.

jimmy smirked, his hands gripping her hips as she rode him, his eyes darkening with renewed lust. the bathroom's fluorescent light cast harsh shadows across his features, highlighting the predatory satisfaction in his expression. his dick throbbed inside her, growing impossibly harder with each bounce of her body.

"that's it," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "show me how much you want it."

asia's thighs trembled with the effort of lifting herself, her movements becoming more frantic despite her earlier protests.

"i hate you," she whispered, the words lacking conviction as her body betrayed her. "i hate what you make me do."

jimmy's laugh was dark, knowing. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, thumbs pinching her nipples through the thin fabric of her tank top. "your mouth say one thing, but this pussy? it tells me everything i needa know."

he thrust upward to meet her downward motion, hitting spots inside her that made coherent thought impossible. the bathroom filled with the obscene sounds of their connection—skin against skin, the wet suction of her arousal coating him with each movement.

jimmy's triumphant smile cuts through her like a knife. he's won.

they both know it.

"that's right," he murmurs, his hands guiding her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm. "take what's yours, baby.

his thrusts became more insistent, more demanding. the toilet seat creaked beneath them, the porcelain cool against his thighs as she continued to ride him. her movements grew erratic, desperate, as pleasure built to unbearable heights.

"you mine now," he whispers against her lips. "say it."

malasia begins to rock her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace that has them both breathing hard. "i'm yours," she admits, the words tearing something loose inside her.

tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

but whether from pleasure or shame? she couldn't say.

jimmy captures her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips to claim her completely. his hands guide her movements, lifting her slightly before bringing her back down with increasing force.

"tomorrow," he pants against her neck, "you're coming to my place."

malasia's rhythm falters. "what? i can't—"

his hand comes up to grip her throat, not squeezing but establishing control. "not askin, ma. tellin. trin's got that double shift. you'll come to my spot. spend the day with me, in my bed."

the image set off a fire in her. hours spent in his sheets, nothing but them alone?

asia whimpers at the fantasy, imagining herself sprawled across his sheets, legs spread wide as he takes her again and again. On his kitchen counter, in his shower, bent over his couch—marking every surface as theirs.

every surface he's marked with trinity.

"jimmy—"

"look at me," jimmy demanded, his fingers tightening in her hair. "i wanna see yo face when you cum for me again."

asia's eyes locked with his, unable to look away as the coil of tension in her belly wound tighter. his hand slipped between their bodies, thumb finding her swollen clit, pressing circles into it.

her inner walls clench around him, pussy fluttering with the first tremors of release, "jimmy, ah—" she gasps, her voice breaking on his name, "it feels so good."

the pressure builds between her thighs, that familiar tightening deep in her core. her hips move faster, grinding down on him with desperate need. his fingers work magic on her clit, the dual sensations overwhelming her senses.

"that's it," he growls, watching her face contort with pleasure. "let go for me, baby. flood this dick again."

she can't hold back anymore. hot liquid gushes from her center, soaking them both as she squirts uncontrollably. his grip tightening on her hips as he holds her in place, letting her release wash over him.

jimmy watched her come undone, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he felt her release coat him once more. "that's my girl,"

her body convulses around him, inner muscles gripping his length in rhythmic pulses as she rides out the most intense orgasm of her life.

jimmy holds her through it, his strong arms supporting her trembling body as she comes undone. his lips press kisses along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, and across her face.

"be ready by 10 tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against hers. "after i drop trin off at work."

the mention of trinity's name sends a fresh wave of guilt crashing through asia. her body stiffens in his arms, the afterglow of her orgasm instantly tainted. jimmy feels the change immediately, his fingers tightening on her jaw.

"nah, stop that shit," he commands, forcing her to meet his gaze seeing tears well up in her eyes. "stop thinking 'bout that. focus on us. what we got right here."

she tries to look away, but his grip is firm, "there is no us," she whispers, the words lacking conviction even to her own ears.

asia's eyes fill with fresh tears, but jimmy wipes them away before they can fall. the actions of her betrayal filing her chest again.

"pack a bag too," his voice dropping to that honey-smooth tone that makes her insides liquify despite her better judgment.

"a bag?" she repeated

"might keep you there for a lil minute." his hands slide down to cup her ass, squeezing possessively

asia nods, defeated and aroused in equal measure. she was unable to form words as conflicting emotions war within her chest. desire and shame. anticipation and guilt. hunger and self-loathing.

her gaze drops to where they're still joined, noticing the absence of the familiar warmth that should have followed his release.

"you didn't cum again," she observes quietly, her gaze pinned on them still intwined.

"that's what you wanted, mama?" he lifts her slightly, his still-hard length slipping from her body with a wet sound that makes her face flush.

he stands, lifting her easily in his strong arms. she feels boneless, utterly spent, as he carries her the sit on the counter again.

asia watches as he stands and dampens a washcloth at the sink. the fluorescent light catches the defined muscles of his back, the strength in his shoulders as he wrings out the excess water.

the warm cloth touches her sensitive flesh, and she hisses, her eyes clinching shut at the contact. jimmy works methodically, cleaning away the evidence of their coupling with unexpected gentleness.

his fingers brush against her tender folds through the cloth, sending aftershocks of pleasure through her overstimulated nerves.

"i know, baby, i know." he soothes, pressing kisses across her cheeks., "you so pretty, mama."

his praise washes over her, a balm to her conflicted soul. despite everything—the betrayal, the guilt, the shame—part of her preens under his approval, desperate for more.

jimmy lifts her effortlessly, cradling her against his chest as if she weighs nothing. her head falls naturally to his shoulder, her body boneless with exhaustion and spent passion. he carries her from the bathroom to her bedroom, navigating through the darkness with surprising sureness.

the sheets are cool against her heated skin as he lays her down with unexpected care. asia watches through heavy-lidded eyes as he retrieves her discarded panties from the floor.

"lift," he instructs softly, and she raises her hips automatically, allowing him to slide the cotton fabric up her legs and over her thighs.

jimmy sits on the edge of the bed, his weight creating a dip in the mattress that rolls her slightly toward him. his large hand comes to rest on her hip, sliding down to cup her ass through her panties. he gives a gentle squeeze, jiggling the flesh playfully before bending to capture her mouth.

his tongue flicks inside, tasting her deeply as though committing her flavor to memory. when he pulls back, his eyes are dark and possessive.

"ten," he reminds her, his thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip. "be ready."

asia nods, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, making her thoughts heavy and slow. she knows she should protest, should end this before it consumes her completely, but the words won't come.

instead, she reaches up, tangling her fingers in his hair bringing his lips back to hers. with one last peck, jimmy kissed her forehead before standing to leave her room quietly.

asia collapses against the pillows. the scent of him lingers on her skin despite his efforts to clean her. she pulls the comforter over her naked body, seeking warmth that has nothing to do with temperature.

tomorrow. 10am. his place.

she reaches for her phone, her fingers hover over the screen, tempted to search for available apartments in the area. she should move out. should remove herself from this toxic triangle before it consumes her completely.

"just one more time," she whispers to the empty room, "tomorrow, and then I'm done."

she closes her eyes, knowing sleep will be elusive, but hoping for at least a few hours of peace before morning comes.

before she makes yet another choice she'll both treasure and regret.

before she becomes even more his than she already is.

🏷️: @caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23 @usoinked @punksyeet @fearlesschimera @holycollectivekitty @luuvprincess @bloodlineslut @levissslutt @punksyeet @fafomama @trippinsorrows

-

(series tags) @sisifromthed @amandairene88 @msbluehaz3 @fearlesschimera @fafomama @rose-bliss @duhitzkay380 @transparentphantomface @isabella-2025 @fairysoulja

xoxo. cleo.

[reignpage]

Tutorials for Aesthetics

Hi! Reign here :) this guide is dedicated to teaching you how to make:

a) colour gradient text b) dividers c) pictures with gradients

Now, as a disclaimer, I'm not saying you should have all these things on your posts. Having pretty things won't guarantee a boatload of interactions and aesthetics shouldn't take away from the actual substance of your writing. Many fics do very well without all the glitz and glamour, and indeed simplicity goes a long way.

You should always prioritise clarity, improvement, and conviction in your writings. Don't get caught up in trying to look pretty and definitely don't be copying other creators' aesthetics unless they've given consent for you to do so.

This serves only as a starting off point for exploring styles that suit you.

Another disclaimer is that Canva, since I wrote and posted this, has and might make more changes which will render parts of this guide inapplicable, but the main parts should remain the same. Canva is best used with premium but I understand that not everyone can and is willing to spend money on this. So my advice is to find a different platform and search up tutorials online.

How to get the colour gradient text!

༯ I use stuffbydavid.com

༯ Decide if you want a horizontal gradient/middle gradient/three coloured gradient

༯ Pick your colours + write out the text you'd like to be coloured in the text box

༯ You can see the preview and when you're happy copy all the text in the HTML code box

༯ Go on Tumblr, create a post, click the settings icon of the post, then in the Text Editor function change it from Rich Text to HTML

༯ All your coding will be pasted in the HTML side and they'll appear formatted in the Preview on your Tumblr post

How to make dividers!

༯ I use Canva

༯ Click Create a design

༯ Click Custom size -> for my colour gradient dividers, I use the 3000 x 40 px but you can use whatever sizing you'd like of course -> experiment to your liking

༯ Click the colour wheel to change your background colour

༯ You can do solid colours and use whatever hex code you'd like but to make gradients, scroll through the colour palettes to get to the different kinds of gradient options

༯ From there, you can change the colours of the gradient and adjust to your liking

༯ To download it, click Share, Download, keep it PNG, size varies (sometimes Canva updates and it all gets messed up but just experiment) and Download for real

༯ On Tumblr, you're going to just drag and drop that downloaded image on the website or if you're on the app, just add it as a picture and adjust it where you'd like it to go on the post

༯ If you were to have drawings like the hearts or croissants for the divider, you'll want to adjust the Custom size, arrange the pictures or elements on the page, and download with a transparent background (it requires a premium subscription unfortunately but if you do the free trial and just make a bunch of banners and dividers before it runs out, you should be good)

༯ Alternatively, to the premium transparency option on Canva, you can use Adobe background remover, but you just have to make an account first. It works well generally!

༯ A lot of this will involve experimenting for what works for you. There's no cheat code to that, unfortunately. But have fun with it. Don't be afraid to trial and fail -- everyone did at some point

How to add gradient colour to pictures!

༯ Use Canva again

༯ Click Custom size -> 3000 x 800 px (or, again, whatever size you like)

༯ Pick a picture you like -> for manga panels, I like to use Pinterest

༯ Drag that picture onto the blank page and adjust to fit

༯ Click Add Page -> on that page, change the background colour. You can use solid colours or gradient colours, it's the same process as for making gradient dividers. You can also choose what kind of gradient you’d like -> horizontal/vertical/centre etc

༯ Click the colour page, copy and paste it on your picture

༯ Adjust the transparency of your picture depending on how opaque you'd like the colour to be

༯ Delete the colour page and keep the picture

༯ Then, again, click Share, change size to 2, and Download

༯ This is the final product -> you can obviously find better pictures and do whatever colours you'd like, this was just an example

༯ I'm not very tech savvy so if my explaining is terrible, I am so sorry 😭 but hopefully this makes senses and encourages you to experiment and be bolder with your layout!

[sccrim]

wife’s best friend ─�� kento nanami

ʬʬ . warnings ▧ ▧ masturbation , cheating , mentions of oral fem

your best friends with nanamis wife. & well, he had other thoughts about you then just simply a friend.

part two

you are best friends with nanamis wife. you moved in with them for a while due to your home getting renovated. you were gonna stay at gojos house but your best friend insisted.

as days went by, nanami started paying attention to you. what you wear outside the house, around the house, what you eat, and so forth.

he also noticed you always stayed in your room half the day until the evening or even the whole day. you weren't uncomfortable in the house hold. you just did your work there.

and what i mean is your onlyfans. nanamis wife knew you did that, i mean she is your best friend. nothing wrong with that. it was a side hustle for you especially with your house getting worked on.

nanami decided to stay home for the day while you and his wife went to run a few errands and by that it was getting your nails / toes done. going to target, etc. it was a nice day to be out and you guys didn't want to miss the chance.

nanami walked down the hall to see your room door cracked open. he was going to shut it until he decided to peek a bit. shame on him but hey he was curious. he walked inside and seen how your room was set up. he was honestly shocked how your room wasn't as dirty as he thought it would be since everytime his wife got ready the room would be a mess. full of make up everywhere and clothes.

he saw your laptop screen open and unlocked. notifications kept popping up. ding, ding. he knew this was bad but he was so curious. he saw the website was on only fans. "hm." he whispered to himself scrolling away to see how much money people were paying.

"what do you do y/n." he questioned, seeing little posts of pictures and clips.

nanamis face burning up from seeing a clip of you playing with your pussy. the corner of his eye he could see a pink lingerie set hanging on your chair.

nanami could feel the guilt hit the back of his throat. gulping the guilt knowing that if he looked down, his boner trying to get out his pants. he still scrolled though. curious and curious of what other things you had going on. "fuck." he whispered.

scrolling as he stopped to see a video of you and some other chick that looked exactly like his wife, making out with you. he fully clicked the video to see it was exactly his wife.

what he didn't know was that while he went on a business trip with gojo. his wife and you made a video of doing each other. his wife needed the money and well you knew it would create good content. nanami didn't feel so guilty anymore. both basically cheated on each other.

nanami couldn't help but stare at the video in pleasure to see his wife eating your pussy. the way your best friend was rubbing her clit while eating you out. nanami listening to the way you guys moaned for each other. nanami checking his wife's location to see where they at. you guys where about an hour away. which was good for him.

the blonde man took off his belt and unbutton his pants. pulling his dick out. nanami spitting on his hand and pumping his dick. he watched as you now began eating out his wife. he didn't know rather to be mad that his wife was cheating on him or that you were fucking her. "fuck." he sunk on the chair. watching you two now scissor each other.

nanami wanted the both of you. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you while you ate out his wife. he wanted both of you guys sucking his dick. this was every man's dream and nanami just got front row seats.

nanami moaning seeing you suck on his wife breast. he began to whimper coming to his climax. he hears you tell his wife your about to cum and his wife the same. nanami pumping faster. him hearing your guys moans and see your bodies shake made him release his cum too. him trying to catch his breath.

nanami hurrying up to clean himself and out everything back the way he found it. closing your door and going into his room.

"honey, we’re home."

ps. lwk was thinking of doing a part 2 of like a three some but then idk </3

 sccrim — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost , translate , or plagiarise my content.

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head. 

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result. 

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.” 

9:26 AM. 

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?” 

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.” 

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.” 

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.” 

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal. 

9:47 AM. 

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.” 

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up. 

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.” 

9:54 AM. 

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.” 

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?” 

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.” 

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?” 

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.” 

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?” 

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.” 

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.” 

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.” 

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.” 

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.” 

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses. 

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other. 

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.” 

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.” 

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.” 

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her. 

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…” 

“Complicated?” 

“Y-Yeah…” 

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?” 

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?” 

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.” 

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all. 

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?” 

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…” 

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you. 

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way. 

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived. 

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.” 

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.” 

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this? 

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter. 

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.” 

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic. 

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest. 

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why. 

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right? 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it. 

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out. 

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.” 

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.” 

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to. 

“Toru?” 

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?” 

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.” 

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro. 

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife. 

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never. 

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.” 

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?” 

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?” 

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.” 

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did. 

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her. 

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her. 

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship. 

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her? 

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have. 

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria. 

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him. 

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?” 

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married. 

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?” 

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.” 

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.” 

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly. 

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him. 

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her? 

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb. 

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own. 

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride. 

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.” 

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.” 

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.” 

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.” 

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.” 

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.” 

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?” 

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.” 

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?” 

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.” 

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.” 

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?” 

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.” 

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.” 

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.” 

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.” 

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies.  “Good night, ‘Toru.” 

…

…

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had. 

So, in that sense, you should be happy. 

You had to be happy. 

You were happy, right? 

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?” 

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.” 

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’. 

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.” 

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there. 

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.” 

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice. 

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?” 

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?” 

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.” 

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you? 

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one. 

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you. 

“Toji, I’m sorry…” 

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?” 

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.” 

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters. 

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it. 

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.” 

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.” 

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.” 

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?” 

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.” 

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?” 

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.” 

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.” 

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?” 

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with? 

You didn’t want to know. 

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too. 

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you. 

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?” 

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess. 

It was crazy. 

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race. 

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan. 

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind. 

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.” 

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?” 

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him. 

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention. 

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.” 

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—” 

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.” 

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old. 

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it. 

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.” 

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.” 

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous. 

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up. 

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.” 

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter. 

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.” 

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?” 

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now. 

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim? 

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city? 

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater? 

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person. 

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you. 

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.” 

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool. 

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.” 

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you. 

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.” 

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.” 

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.” 

“I never said that.” 

“You were thinking about it.” 

“Says who?” 

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person? 

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.” 

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.” 

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.” 

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you. 

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?” 

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person. 

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?” 

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…” 

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand. 

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.” 

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…” 

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes. 

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.” 

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true. 

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply. 

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.” 

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have? 

“Good.” 

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life. 

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid. 

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another. 

Good for him. 

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.” 

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that. 

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship. 

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.” 

[cloverrwritess]

Title: "WHAT WOULD [READER] DO?" | part 1

Ian Hecox x Fem!Padilla! Reader

Request: Yes | No

authors note: part two part three part four

MASTERLIST

"Hello everybody! Welcome to another episode of 'What Would Blank Do' and today, my friends are here to guess what I would do and they have to give the right answers for these questions I have in my hand right now. We have three special guests here, would you guys want to introduce yourselves?" I said and looked the people beside me.

Today we were filming a video for Smosh Pit, It was my turn to do the whole 'What would Blank Do'.

"I'm Amanda and I know I'll win this" Amanda picked up her whiteboard and turned it to the camera, It had the words "Winner" written on it. "I'm Angela and I know her 100%, I'm taking the crown on this one" She slammed her hand on the table yelling "I'm winning" over and over again.

I chuckled at how loud Angela was already and I haven't even read any questions out loud yet. "Okay, I'll be the one to introduce the last contestant here, we have mister Ian Hecox, my long time childhood buddy" I clapped my hands and put my hand on his shoulder.

"If you get any of these wrong, I might need to rethink our friendship pal" I squeezed his shoulder while giggling.

I knew Ian from my brother, Anthony. I was there when they started the website and the youtube channel, I was working behind the scenes while they were filming themselves being stupid on camera for people to see. My name was always written in the description of their videos. When my brother left Smosh, I was the one that stayed with Ian in helping him build Smosh again.

"I'm confident on my answers since I've known you for so long" He puffed up his chest and wiped the imaginary dust on his left shoulder.

________

"First, If I was a dog breed, what would I be?" I read from the mini flash card and wrote my answer on my board. I looked up at them answering on the board smiling. "Amanda, let's start with you first"

"Well I choose a Golden Retriever since they're your favourite obvi" She flipper her hair and made a mean girl facial expression towards the other two beside her.

"I picked Border Collie because they are intelligent dogs and you said you would likr a smart dog as a pet" Angela circled something on her board "I even drew one for you"

I pointed at the little doodle on her board and laughed, It didn't even look like a dog to begin with.

"You ladies basically don't know her" Ian said and had his board look at the camera. "Obviously she put [fav dog breed] as the right answer since she always talks about how cute they are and how much attitude they have. My eyes slightly widened at his answer. “Well I did answer [dog breed] so Ian gets 10 points while you two get 5 points.”

Amanda and Angela's mouths were wide open in shock while Ian punched his fist up in the air for getting it right.

"Ian never do that again or else I'll dock points for giving me the ick"

________

We were on to our last question and right now Ian was ahead of the girls by 50 points. "This is my last question for you guys, so listen carefully. What year would I like to time travel in if it was possible?"

I gave the three some time to answer before time was up. "Let's start with Angela first since she finished writing before the others"

Angela showed her board and I Immediately started laughing, she had the words 'rennisance' on her board and her excuse was she didn't know the spelling.

Amanda wrote 1870 for some reason with nothing to back up her answer. Finally It was Ian's turn and he flipped his board towards the camera, the words "80's-90's" were written on it.

"You love listening to music from that era so that's my answer" He confidentally said while drawing a circle around his answer. "Well the answer was the 80's so Ian gets 10 points!" I showed my answer with a bad drawing of freddy mercury next to it.

"This is bullshit! He cheated!" Angela yelled crossing her arms for losing the game. "I told you I know her better than you guys" Ian answered back.

"With the total of 160 points Ian wins this episode" I clapped my hands while Amanda and Angela was booing Ian for winning.

________

I was back in my office space eating lunch after filming, I heard a knock on my door and saw Ian's face peek. I motioned his to come in. We usually eat together lunch together and talk about things for the channel away from the people. Sometimes personal things we don't want others to hear.

"So you won, how do you feel knowing you know me better than the others?" I turned to look at him, seeing him already looking at me. "I feel great, I felt like there would be a strain in our friendship if I lost the game" He said in a monotone but playful voice and shrugged his shoulders and opened his lunch. We sat eating in silence for a while before he spoke up again.

"Are you busy tonight?" I was looked up at him and shaked my head from side to side indicating I wasn't busy.

"Want to eat dinner together? My place" His voice sounded sincere and knowning me, I can never say no to him. "Sure, Besides I miss hanging out with you outside of work" I smiled at him.

"My place at 8pm, don't be late"

[ladymoody]

can you make a story with theo and yn and they’re friends but we have a boyfriend and like he doesn’t treat us very good so we have sex with theo? i know its cheating if u don’t feel comfortable don’t do it🤗 thank u💜

OUR LITTLE SECRET

dom!theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: +18 content, cheating, swearing, dirty talk, explicit language, breast squeezing, fingering, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie.

word count: 2,7k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; navigation ; my website

mr. brown was on my bed looking like he was judging me. he was my childhood soft toy and I knew he would've hated seeing me cry for a damn boy. I hugged him - my dear teddy bear - squeezing him to my chest as the memories of what had happened with my boyfriend flowed back into my mind.

"you're a whore, that's what you are."

"all you do is insult me! but can you really face the matter and have a bloody conversation like a civil person?!"

"oh, are you saying I'm immature? bitch, have you looked in the mirror? because all I see is a damn child! you will never be good enough."

you will never be good enough. my brain wouldn't stop playing that scene and making me listen to that sentence all over again. I wasn't good enough and will have never been.

warm tears started sliding down my cheeks, I started sobbing and squeezing mr. brown harder. all I wanted to do was bury my face somewhere and stay there for the rest of my life, not wanting to see or talk to anyone. I wasn’t good enough.

but then my bitter look lit up and I stopped crying for a second, before starting again but a bit more softly. theodore. he was my friend and perhaps he could’ve helped me.

I picked up my phone and unlocked it, ready to text him.

💬 hey. — I typed.

theo answered within a few seconds.

and theo never read my last message. or at least from the SMS app, because I was pretty sure he had done it from the notification centre and decided not to text back. I sighed knowing he was already in his car to drive to my place.

(skip time)

I heard a knock on my window but ignored it as I was lying in my bed, facing the opposite wall and hugging mr. brown. I thought it was the wind blowing outside at first, since it was raining, but the knocking continued and the sound of it increased more and more. I rolled over to glance at it and I immediately found myself gasping as I sat up, seeing theodore standing on my balcony.

I was on the second floor of a building, and there was also a small staircase nearby. I wasn’t surprised of seeing him there, I knew him too well not to know he was stubborn and eventually managed to come over, but I was concerned when I saw him completely soaked.

I stood up and left my teddy bear on my bed, making my way towards the window. “have you gone completely insane?”

theo smiled slightly sheepishly as he stepped inside, his clothes wetting my carpet.

“you know I’ve got a front door, right?”

“I thought your parents were asleep at this hour.”

“so what? was climbing up my window a better idea?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“you’re drenched, theo.”

“and you’re crying, y/n.”

I stopped and realized that I had been crying, still thinking about the discussion my boyfriend and I had. I quickly wiped away my tears and blinked a few times in an attempt to make the redness go away from my eyes.

“you told me to come over and-”

“no, I didn’t! I just wanted to chat. no need to come over, theo. ugh… you’re completely soaked in rainy water.” I walked out of my room just to come back some seconds later with a towel wrapped around my arm.

“here.”

theo took the towel and started to rub it on his head to dry his hair off, then he placed his leather jacket on my chair and continued to dry himself.

“what did that bastard do to you?” theo spoke passive-aggressively.

“nothing, theo… it’s nothing. I’m more worried about you catching a damn cold.”

theodore rushed towards me and grabbed my face — his hand holding my cheeks and squeezing them in a way my lips were all squashed. “if you don’t tell me what he’s done to you, I will ask him myself, and trust me, he won’t be able to speak again after that.”

theo had always been very protective towards me and I had always appreciated that. we were good friends and whenever my boyfriend and I had fights, theo was there for me. through time he started hating my boyfriend more and more, as I kept telling him the way he treated me.

“he was rude again. nothing to be concerned about. I just overreacted, theo.”

“no, y/n. if it’s something that moved you, it was something serious.”

“listen, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just wanted some company…”

theodore saw the look of sadness and vulnerability on my face, and he softened up. he sighed and loosened his grip on my face, then he weakly smiled at me before leaving my chin.

“come here…” he pulled me in a hug and I happily hugged him back.

“he doesn’t deserve you…” he murmured and I let a few tears slide down my cheeks. “shh… it’s okay, I’ve got you…”

I felt safer in theo’s arms than in my boyfriend’s.

theo gently pulled away wiping away my tears as he looked down at me. “you deserve someone who can appreciate you and love you unconditionally. you definitely don’t deserve someone like that bastard you’re dating.”

theo was right, indeed. but I loved my boyfriend and I couldn’t bring myself to admit I deserved better. I just nodded without adding anything.

theo’s hands were on my hips gripping them firmly, every now and then roaming from the small of my back to my waist. he was looking at me with those piercing eyes of his, and he was incredibly sexy.

“if he only knew how many things I’m thinking of his girlfriend…” he said. his voice a little above a whisper.

“…what do you mean, theo?”

oh, I perfectly knew what he meant. yet, I wanted him to say it out loud both because I couldn’t believe it yet, and because the thought of it was making me aroused.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him.”

“theo…” I wanted to sound mature, sensible, and disagreeing. instead, all that came out of my mouth was a whine. a moan of arousal.

“I could treat you so good… and it could be our little secret.” he pleaded.

“you know I shouldn’t be doing this, right?” I said as my arms automatically wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer than two friends should be.

theo’s hands gripped my hips more firmly, flushing me against him and making our bodies feel each other’s heat. I knew it was so wrong, cheating is wrong, but this felt so right… we together felt so right. theo had always been a good guy when it came to treating women properly, so I knew I would’ve put myself in good hands, yet it was still cheating and I felt myself torn between him and my boyfriend.

“theo…” I looked away, avoiding his gaze. but he soon grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. he didn’t wait any further and cupped my cheek, pressing his lips against mine.

at first, I was about to pull away and yell — “what the fuck!”, but the softness of his lips mixed with his aggressive and firm grip had me kissing him back eagerly.

he let out a low moan as he felt my lips moving against his in equal passion, and he bent on his legs — our lips not leaving each other for a second — as his hands grabbed my thighs and he lifted me up. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist as he securely held me by my butt and pressed me against the nearest wall. all my paranoia was gone and any possible thought of my boyfriend was no longer lingering in my mind as it was all replaced by how good theo was making me feel. I’ve always had secret fantasies about me and him because he was the only decent treatment I got from a male figure. not only did my boyfriend mistreat me, but he was also quite bad at kissing and having sex — his kisses were too sloppy and wet and I hadn’t had a good orgasm in MONTHS.

“all for me… you’re all for me now…” theo muttered against my lips between kisses. “I’ve been jerking off thinking about you every day… I’ve had dreams about you leaving your boyfriend, stripping in front of me, and riding me as an apology for dating such a dork…”

I mentally chuckled at his words, it was such a… unique fantasy.

“my god…” I moaned and he liked it. he broke the kiss and smirked, carrying me to my bed.

I giggled slightly and he grinned as he laid me on it and climbed over me. his right forearm was next to my head, allowing him to prop himself and not crash his weight on me, while his left hand tightly gripped my hip.

theo and I kept making out on my bed, until I felt his hardness pressing against my hip and I pulled away.

“I’m not sure we should we be doing this… if my boyfriend finds out-” theo cut me off with another kiss, and I couldn’t get the strength to pull away anymore. he just felt too good.

his hand slid up to my top, gripping and squeezing my boob. I panted and broke the kiss for a few seconds as I pressed my forehead against his. theo kept his eyes closed and smirked at the feeling of my breast in his hand, then he moved under the fabric.

“ohh! yes…” I arched my back. my boyfriend had never touched me like that — he always skipped straight to the act and didn’t do anything to pleasure me.

“you like that?” he murmured as he began to leave kisses on my neck. I simply nodded, not being able to do anything else for the position I was at that moment.

theo’s hand teasingly shifted down my stomach, leaving my breast all alone again — swollen, deprived of his touch, and sore. I wanted so much more. he reached my lower belly and played with the waistband of my shorts for a bit, and then he slid his hand inside my panties giving me goosebumps at the feeling of his long and slim fingers touching me down there. I let out a louder moan which was soon quieted down by his lips on mine, his thumb rubbing my clit.

“theo… ohh… fuck!” he smirked and chuckled to himself before slightly nibbling at my earlobe and continuing his trail of heated kisses on my neck and jawline.

“yeah, doll… be loud for me…” his hips moved instinctively against mine to seek some friction — I could tell he was very horny and I was too.

I shut my eyes and arched my back once again as I felt his fingers starting to stretch me mercilessly. they went in and out so effortlessly that I could feel my lower belly burn due to pleasure. “yes! don’t stop!”

“I know, baby… come on… come on my fingers… show me just how much I’m better than your idiotic boyfriend.” and there my walls coated his fingers, loud whimpers and moans left my mouth as I covered his hand with my juices.

“yeah! like that…” he smirked and pumped his fingers inside my pussy a few more times, before taking them out and bringing them into his mouth. he licked them clean while he looked at me, enjoying the sight of me all needy and almost helpless on the bed.

“I can’t hold back anymore.” he said as he sat up and set his hands on his belt, beginning to undo it. I was excited I might have let out another moan just at the sight of him freeing himself and he couldn’t help but notice it.

he hurried to take his pants off as soon as the leather belt left his jeans’ loops. theo pulled them down letting me see his huge erection pressing against the fabric of his black boxers.

“please…” I whined.

“I know, I know…” my eyes widened and my eyebrows lifted as I saw theo pulling his underwear down, it meeting his pants at his ankles. his cock stood so perfectly, throbbing and almost screaming to get inside of me.

none of us wanted to waste any further time, in fact, he immediately pulled my shorts and panties off in one quick move, allowing him to have a full view of my cunt. he lined up against me and thrust hard, not even leaving me a moment to get adjusted to his size — which was way bigger than my boyfriend’s. as he pumped inside of me we both finished to undress each other, eventually leaving us completely bare and exposed. he brought my legs above his shoulders and laid them there, his hands on them to keep them steady. I gripped the sheets, twisting them and pulling them as theo hit perfectly my g-spot.

“does your boyfriend fuck you like this?” he panted as he ran his hand through his brown hair, keeping it away from his forehead and the drops of sweat that were creating.

I knew my boyfriend had never had me like this. never. he was so incapable and goofy, that he put himself in the first place not even worrying about making me come. theo was being so damn good… I felt his big dick filling me so well, his cock head teasing my cervix. it was the best sensation I had ever felt.

“no…” I panted grabbing his arms and pulling him down on me so I could hold onto his shoulders. my nails dug deep into his skin, probably leaving a few scratches here and there, and making him groan in pain and satisfaction.

“I know… yet he gets this pretty pussy all to himself, mh?”

he was going so damn fast as if he wanted to prove to me he was better than my boyfriend, as if he had joined a competition, as if he wanted to claim me as his and remove the memory of my boyfriend from my mind.

all I could do was let out a strangled chuckle, very similar to a whimper. I know I was close.

“theo… I’m… yes! just like that!” theo chuckled at my moans, he enjoyed being shamelessly praised by me and he knew how good he was in bed.

“let me come inside you, please… don’t make me pull out…” he sounded like he was whimpering so I realized he was getting as close as me. I couldn’t think of any other answer beyond a simple “yes”, even if I knew he wasn’t wearing a condom and I wasn’t on birth control.

as soon as I permitted him, I felt his pace quickening — if that was even possible — and he bit my shoulder, burying his face in the crook of my neck. in a matter of seconds I felt his hot seed spilling inside of me, coating my insides and slightly dripping out of my folds and onto the bed. he came groaning into my ear, which only turned me on more and made me come right after him. our breathings were unsteady and rapid and I felt him slowing down, his cock’s tip gradually leaving my g-spot to pull out.

he kissed my neck, his eyes still shut while mine were lidded and my eyebrows curved in an upside-down frown of pleasure and vulnerability. his lips leisurely went up to kiss my jaw, then went up further and find mine to capture in a lazy, yet passionate, kiss.

his hand grabbed my hip and then rested on my lower belly, caressing my skin. “you drive me incredibly crazy…” he whispered between kisses.

“come to me every time he doesn’t treat you right and I’ll show you just how a real man can appreciate such a beautiful woman like you.”oh theo… what have you done to me?

[rylem33]

Split

“You just gonna stand there and stare all night?” she whispered, her lips curling into a smirk.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer like he wasn’t even in control of his own body anymore.

Brandi giggled softly, running her fingers through her long platinum hair. “You’re such a bad boy, sneaking around on your wife like this.”

Eric flinched, just a little. But she saw it.

Brandi crawled to the edge of the bed on all fours, slowly trailing her fingers up his thigh. “You don’t have to lie to me, baby. You think I didn’t already know?” She leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. “I don’t care that you’re married. You’ve been mine since the first time you swiped right.”

He groaned softly, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into his lap. Their mouths crashed together, desperate and sloppy. His hands roamed her body like he couldn’t get enough. Like she was everything he’d ever wanted.

Clothes hit the floor in seconds.

He pushed her onto her back, covering her body with his, kissing down her chest, her stomach, her thighs, until she was gasping, trembling, begging.

Eric whispered softly, like a confession he’d been holding back for weeks. “I’m going to leave Dana.”

She stared at him with an odd expression and didn’t say anything.

“I’m serious,” he breathed, pulling her tighter, like he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re all I want, Brandi.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t answer right away. She just let it hang there, relishing the way those words hit her like a shot of pure adrenaline.

A hot, wicked grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

She dragged her nails softly down his back, slow and possessive, making sure he felt every inch. "Yeah?" she whispered, her voice syrupy and low. "You really mean that, baby? You’re done with her?"

Eric nodded against her skin, kissing the hollow of her throat. "I’ve never felt like this before. You make me… alive. You make me feel wanted. Desired." He paused, breathing hard. "I want you."

She pushed him back just far enough to meet his eyes, making herself look vulnerable.

"You’d really do that for me?" she whispered. "You’d really leave her… for this?"

Eric cupped her face like she was the only thing keeping him alive. "I’d do anything for you."

Brandi leaned in and kissed him slow and deep.

-------------------------------------------

Dana stood at the bathroom mirror, staring at the little black bottle in her shaking hand.

Last time, she told herself. One more night and this is over.

But she already knew she was lying.

She popped the cap, bringing the bitter liquid to her lips. The taste made her wince, but she forced it down in one long swallow.

Almost immediately, she felt the rush like electricity under her skin. She gripped the edge of the sink as her body began to tingle, tighten, shift.

Her brown hair lightened to platinum blonde. Her curves swelled, her waist cinched, her lips plumped.

Dana—now Brandi—smiled wickedly at her reflection, running her tongue over her lips.

He wouldn’t last ten minutes tonight.

And God, what a sick, beautiful mess this had turned into.

It had started so small. Just a hunch. A gut feeling. Something had shifted between them.

Eric’s late nights at the office. The way he stopped noticing her. The way he’d flinch when she reached for his phone.

And then she saw the dating apps on his phone. The messages to girls half her age. Girls named things like Lexie and Alyssa. God, he even had a type. Flirty texts about how he needed something new, something exciting. How Dana just didn’t do it for him anymore.

She could have confronted him that night. Should have. But something darker had taken root in her chest. She needed to know just how far he’d go. Was he just flirting, or did he intend to cheat?

That’s when she found out about the Elixir from some sketchy website promising transformation, allure, and power. She’d laughed at it… until she didn’t. The idea haunted her for days. And when the bottle arrived in that cheap black box, she hadn’t even hesitated.

The first time she transformed into Brandi, it was terrifying. She’d stood in front of the mirror, poking and prodding her body like she wasn’t real. But the second time? The third? God, it felt good. Addictive.

And while Dana became more cold and distant with Eric at home, Brandi slid into his DMs. Brandi teased him. Flirted with him. Made him need her.

Every time Dana watched him sneak off to meet his other woman, she knew she was wrapping him even tighter around her finger. Dana was pushing him away, sure. But Brandi? Brandi had him begging on his knees.

And now, he was ready to throw it all away for her.

-------------------------

Dana let the last page flutter onto the lawyer’s desk, crossing her legs slowly as she leaned back in her chair.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses, eyeing her suspiciously. “One last thing, Mrs. Walker—uh, Dana. Are you sure you want to execute this transfer? Moving your entire divorce settlement into an account under… Brandi McKay? There’s no legal entity, no ID, no—”

“I’m sure,” she interrupted smoothly, not even blinking.

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I just… I’m obligated to advise you that you could lose claim to—”

“I said I’m sure.”

------------------------------

The elevator doors slid shut. Dana leaned against the mirrored wall, chest heaving. Her fingers trembled as she dug through her purse, shoving useless things aside until she felt it. The little black vial she’d been saving.

She stared down at the label. Permanent Dose.

Dana glanced up at her reflection and let out a bitter laugh. The tired eyes. The thinning hair. The saggy skin. She looked old. She hated it.

With a shaking breath, she popped the cork, the sharp scent of the elixir filling the tiny space. Her lips curled into a hungry grin.

“Goodbye, Dana,” she whispered, tipping the vial to her lips.

She drained it in one greedy swallow, wincing at the bitter taste but savoring the fire it sent coursing through her veins.

Dana gripped the railing, groaning softly as the transformation locked into place.

Dana Walker was gone.

Brandi McKay was real. She was forever.

—------------------------------

Brandi leaned against the balcony doorframe, sipping her champagne. The new condo overlooked the glittering skyline.

Eric stood by the island, two empty glasses in front of him, his hands resting heavily on the countertop. He looked exhausted, but he smiled anyway.

“To us,” he celebrated, raising his glass.

“I’m just so happy, baby.” Brandi teased. “I can’t believe you bought this condo for me.”

“You like it?” he asked nervously. “I… I cashed out all my stock options to make it happen. You deserve the best.”

Brandi took another sip, set her glass down, and sauntered toward him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her body against him.

“You really did all this for me?” she whispered into his ear, her voice dripping with sugar.

“For us,” he said softly. “I just want you to be happy, baby.”

Brandi leaned back in his arms.  He couldn’t see the smile fade from her lips.

“You know…” she started, pulling away, grabbing her glass again and swirling the champagne lazily. “I was thinking about you today.”

Eric blinked, already sensing something had shifted. “Yeah?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, barely holding back the laugh building in her throat. She’d already drained him dry. This condo was just the last squeeze.

She turned, leaning back against the island.

“About how fucking easy it was to take everything from you.”

His face twitched, confused. “…What?”

“You really don’t get it, do you? You sold your future… your company… everything you built… for me. And while you were busting your ass trying to keep me happy?” She stepped closer, crouching down in front of him, her voice sharpening to a cruel whisper. “I’ve been fucking anyone I wanted.”

Eric was shocked.

“Oh yeah,” she hissed. “Every hard-bodied man I could find. I’ve had so much fun fucking my way around the city.”

He shook his head, as if refusing to believe it. “No… Brandi, please…”

“Do you honestly think I was going to settle for you?” she spat. “God, I’ve been playing you since day one. You’re a fucking cheater. You could never be worthy of someone like me.”

Eric dropped into the barstool like he’d just been punched, burying his face in his hands, shaking his head. He looked at her, a broken man full of regret.

 “I should’ve stayed with Dana…”

That made Brandi laugh.

[wickwoods]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜-

Virgin!Sex worker!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Married!Older!Reader-

I found the divider on Pinterest! Creds to original poster <3

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: After your husband bailed out on your anniversary, you finally take your best friend’s crazy idea of getting laid by a new man into consideration.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Reader cheats on husband, Virgin!Eddie, Sub!Eddie, Soft!Dom!Reader, First time meeting, Unprotected sex, Eddie cums inside of reader, Reader has boobs and Pussy, ANGST towards the end with NO HAPPY ENDING…These are the main warnings i’m not sure if I missed any…Please let me know! Happy reading! <3

Your heels clacked against the pavement as you made your way to the hotel you were supposed to meet ‘Kas’ at. ‘What a stupid name.’ You thought to yourself. ‘This is so stupid, what the fuck was I thinking?’ The thoughts kept coming at you full speed.

You were on your way to meet up with a random guy for sex. At a hidden hotel. While your husband (soon to be ex-husband) was at work. ‘The guy had it coming….whatever.’ You thought to yourself. The relationship was at its wits end anyway. You directed your gaze to the sky above you and thought back to the moment that led you to do this.

…………

“Adam, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for almost two fucking hours. Pick up the damn phone.”

This is ridiculous. It was your fifth anniversary. You’d been waiting at home all dolled up, and for what? He didn’t deserve it. You’d even put on your pretty matching sage green set just for him. You heaved out a long aggressive sigh and started making your way up the stairs of your home. You opened the door to your shared bedroom and changed out of the uncomfortable elegant clothes into your favorite pajamas. You grabbed your phone from the purse you had packed up to take with you and flung yourself on the king sized bed. You opened up your phone and started scrolling through your notifications. You clicked open on the messages that came from your best friend.

Len🐞: BABYGIRL LOOK AT THIS (link)

Len🐞: go get dicked down by a new man babes, Adam is so not gonna do it for you 🙄

You let out a small chuckle at your best friend’s words and started typing..

Me: Jeez, hello to you too bitch 🙄

Me: What is the link? You trying to give me a virus?

Len🐞: press on it and check it out…I’m sick and tired of hearing you complain about Adam’s 🦐 you deserve a good one💋

Me: Then give me yours 🥴🥴

Len🐞: ha ha bitch, go check it out

Me: Fine!!!

You shook your head at your best friend’s antics and finally pressed on the link. The link sent you to a website page and you were immediately bombarded with red colors and a ton of men’s faces. There was a large heading at the top of the page that read “Looking for a quick fuck for cheap? Book one of our sexy workers now!” in big bold letters. ‘What the hell did this girl send me?’ You started scrolling through the page and stopped when you saw a singular face. He was so handsome. He had deep, brown eyes that stared into the camera as if he was physically there, looking straight at you. He had a big smile on his face and curly brown ringlets of hair framing it. He sported a black crew neck shirt that gave a peek of his pale neck covered in black ink on the left side. You scrolled a bit further and saw a small description below the picture. It read:

“Kas, 24, available Monday-Wednesday. Book now! (phone number)”

You ran your eyes over the number three times and exited the web to open the phone app. You quickly dialed the number and hovered your finger over the green call button. ‘What am i thinking? I’m a married 32 year old woman. I need to get it together!’ You quickly turned off your phone and turned over to your side. You shut your eyes and tried to forget about the sexy stranger only one call away. You turned from side to side at least five times before giving up and picking up your phone again. You quickly dialed the number again and pressed the green button before you lost your newfound courage.

…………

That night, you had booked ‘Kas’ for the following week on a Tuesday. Now, you were on your way to meet him. You made the final turn on the Maplewood street and finally stood in front of the hotel. You let out a sigh and pulled open the door. You walked up to the counter and gave your best smile to the lady behind the desk. Her name tag read: Daisy and you wondered if that was her real name, or a disguise one.

“Hi there, I booked an appointment with Kas last week.”

“Alright! The total amount for the time you booked is $80, will that be cash or card?”

No way were you gonna risk Adam seeing the charge through your shared bank account.

“Uh, Cash.”

You reached into the small purse you brought with you and pulled out the money. After the payment was finalized, Daisy handed you a key to room B23 and gave you directions.

“He’ll be there in just a couple of minutes, feel free to get yourself comfortable waiting for him! Have fun!” she said with an oddly joyous tone.

“Oh, thank you.” Your cheeks burned a cherry red as you made your way to the room.

You opened the door and walked in. It had a single queen sized bed in the middle and rolling cart right next to it. The cart had a bottle of cheep champagne and a single champagne glass next to it. There was also a small box of chocolates with a note that read: “Help yourself to any or all!” You poured yourself a bit of the champagne and drank it sip by sip. It definitely soothed your nerves a bit. You sat on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed and waited. About five minutes later, you heard a small knock. You looked up and finally saw him. Your heart skipped one or two beats. He was so pretty up close.

“Hey… I’m Kas.” He smiled and walked up to you.

You greeted him with your own name and stood up.

“Um…I have to be honest with you, I’m new to this. You’re my first customer.” He spoke with a soft tone as if he was scared you might change your mind and walk out on him.

“That’s okay.” you smiled. “I’ve never done something like this before.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Like-like you’re a…a virgin?”

Your own eyes widened a bit too and you giggled at his response. “God, no! I just mean that i’ve never had sex in a random hotel with a random man that I paid for.” There was a small tease in your words and his shoulders eased up before tensing up once again.

“I guess i should tell you that uh…I myself am a v-virgin.” His voice was so low you almost missed the last part of his sentence. “I understand if you’d like to change me with someone else, just uh give me the word and i’ll walk out and talk to Dai-“ He was cut off with your lips on his in a soft peck. You pulled away and reassured him,

“Calm down, I still want this.” You leaned in once again, slower this time to give him enough time to pull away, but he didn’t. He leaned in too and met your lips in the middle. You turned him around without letting his lips go and pushed him onto the plush mattress. You finally let go and gave him time to catch his breath.

“Tell me baby, how far have you gone?” He looked down between your bodies, avoiding your eyes, and said,

“I almost,most got a blow job once…”

You looked at him and smiled a bit. ‘Cute’ You thought to yourself.

“Alright. We’ll take it slow.”

He nodded before you leaned in and pressed your mouth against his neck this time. He let out small sighs of pleasure and you couldn’t help but smile against his neck.

“My lips feel good on your skin, baby?”

You pressed a kiss right on his tattoo that you realized was a skull with twenty sided dice as eyes and gave it a small lick. “Mhm..” He had his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of your soft kisses. You slid your hands down his chest and tugged on the hem. Feeling the small tugs, he raised his upper body and pulled his shirt off. You noticed small works of art scattered along his torso but quickly moved on to kissing his chest. You kissed around his collarbones a bit before abruptly stopping. He let out a noise that resembled a whine and opened his eyes to look at you.

“Hey, tell me if it ever gets to be too much alright?” He nodded his head and responded,

“Yes Angel” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow in amusement and asked him, “What’s with the nickname?”

He continued smiling and answered, “You’re pretty like one.”

You smiled with your teeth and made a pathway down his chest and stomach with kisses. You got to his torso and ran a single finger along the hem of his black jeans. You took note of how his lower stomach twitched when you touched a certain spot and began to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He lifted his lower half from the bed and you pulled down his pants along with his briefs. You glued your eyes to his dick as you stuttered out,

“Oh, wow…” He started blushing profusely and looked down at you. His dick twitched as he took sight of you between his legs, but he ignored it.

“Is- is it bad? is it ugly? i’m sorry.” He felt like he wanted to cry or jump out the window. Maybe both. “No! no, not at all baby…jus’ bigger than i expected” You smiled up at him. “Oh..” You wrapped your hand around his length and let a drop of spit fall from your mouth onto his raging tip. “Such a pretty cock. It’s a shame no other person has seen it.” He let a small whimper drop from his lips and threw his head back before quickly picking it up again, not wanting to miss the moment.

“Thank you Angel…fuck..” He was aching so bad, his tip was a deep red. You maintained eye contact as you leaned down and slowly took his tip in between your lips. You suckled on it for a couple of seconds making him let out a rather loud moan. He couldn’t believe it. You were so fucking perfect. So pretty, so nice, so sexy- fuck. You stopped your motions all together and stood on your legs in front of him. You began to take your blouse off, and then your pants. You were left in your sexy sage green set. He felt like he could cum at that moment.

How were you so fucking perfect!?

You reached behind your back and undid the clasp of your bra then quickly spun around before the garment dropped. He let out a small groan of disapproval before quieting down the minute you grabbed each side of your lacy underwear. You let your bra fall off and felt the immediate hardening of your nipples in the cold air of the room. You then reach for your underwear and pull it down while bending over with the motion to reveal your glistening cunt to him. He felt his cock twitch and spoke, “Please..please Angel…I need you so bad. I feel like i’m gonna explode.” You made a tsking noise at him.

“Aht Aht, patience is key baby.” You smiled at him and walked up to him to straddle his lap. He could feel your leaking juices on his cock and he felt like the biggest horndog on earth. You leaned down and began giving him sloppy kisses on the mouth. You both let out matching loud moans as you began to do forward and backwards motions with your hips. He lest his arms wrap securely around your waist as you reached behind you and guided him into your wet hole inch by inch. He let go of your mouth to let out a loud groan as his hips bucked up in pleasure. He looked straight into your eyes and a strange feeling of reassurance came from his gaze. His face was scrunched up with pleasure, as was yours. But his eyes held a story of admiration and he looked at you as if you’d hung every shooting star he ever made a wish upon. You forced yourself to look away and shut your eyes. You picked up your pace and opened your eyes again as you began to hear the bed squeak.

“Fuck baby! oh shit mmm….fuck, tell me you love me..” You regretted your words the minute they left your mouth and you prayed to any higher power that he didn’t hear anything over the lewd noises your sexes were making. But of course….

”Mhmm, fuck Angel. ‘’love you. love your pussy. So good ah…” he let out a string of small gasps as he came deep in you. You felt his legs twitching beneath you and couldn’t hold yourself back. “FUCK!” you screamed out as your orgasm hit you like a thousand bricks at one time. your top half toppled over and you laid on his chest. He held you close with his arms still wrapped around you as his slowly softening cock slid out. You felt his hot seed spill out of you and shut your eyes in pleasure.

“Wow. That was- woah.” He cut himself off as he felt you quickly roll off of him and rush to pick your clothes off.

“Are you okay?” He looked genuinely concerned and that made you feel even worse. “Yeah” you gave him a fake smile. “I gotta go, sorry.” He looked like a kicked puppy and it made you want to cry even more. The guilt was appearing rapidly and Adam’s face kept popping up in your head. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?”

“No. I-I have to be somewhere by four.” He looked over to the clock on the wall and it read that it was just about to be two o’clock. He didn’t understand….everything went so well…didn’t it? You told him to tell you he loved you. Didn’t that mean something to you?

“Can I at least have your number?” The sides of his lips lifted a little as he thought of taking you out on a date one day. “My real name is Eddie by the way…if you’d let me…I’d love to take you ou-“

“I can’t! I can’t, alright!? I’m fucking married for crying out loud! I don’t know why I did this. None of it is your fault and I am so fucking sorry that I didn’t tell you before we…” There were hot tears running down your face as you avoided eye contact with his chocolate brown eyes.

“But you told me to tell you i loved you.”

“I know! I know what I told you to say and I’m really sorry Eddie. I just- I have to go. Goodbye.” Now fully dressed, you made your way to the door before reaching into your purse and walking back to him. You pulled out $50 and handed them to him. “For the troubles.” You let out a sob and walked out the hotel room. You stopped in your tracks as you heard a loud smack against the wall and a shout,

“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING MONEY!”

You were about to turn back to comfort him but the image of Adam slipped back into your mind…

“I am so screwed.”

Note: This is my first story on here! It was heavily inspired by the song ‘Trash Magic’ by Lana Del Rey. I’m so excited to have people read it and I’d appreciate any feedback! Thank you so much for reading loves <3 Bye bye!

[lauluuuuu]

Stuff I remember from the Tiger, Inyo, and Miko centric Supa Strikas comic:

Disclaimer: I read the comic 8 years ago and I only read it once because the website where I read it was down the next day (I remember this so well because I had a dance competition that day and wanted to show it my friend who also watched Supa Strikas, only to find that the website couldn't be reached). I don't have a good memory of the dialogue, but I can remember some of the panels. The order in which I have written the bullet points is the order of what happens in the comic, although there are definitely gaps in my memory (specifically what happens between Tiger's flashback and present day, I can't remember at all how they end the flashback). Please take anything I say with a pinch of salt😶‍🌫️🙏

Images are from @/supa_sweetheart on Instagram!

ANYWHOOOOO LET'S GO!

Tiger and Miko grew up in an orphanage, where they met Inyo. They played football outdoors all the time, and Inyo would only be allowed to stay in her room. Tiger and Miko were younger and smaller than the other kids there which made them targets for bullies.

Not that big of a shocker but still. Tiger's hair isn't dyed, or it could be dyed and he's been dyeing it since he was a kid (I know Supa Strikas doesn't always stick to canon but this was a huge lore drop for me because Tiger's fandom wiki said his hair was dyed red since his eyebrows are black).

Tiger was the first person to meet Inyo. Him and Miko got a football stuck in a tree, Tiger climbed the tree to retrieve it. Inyo's room was right next to the tree, and Tiger spotted her when he got the ball back. He realised that he had no idea who she was, and neither did Miko (the panels for this sequence of events are what I definitely remember best about this comic).

Miko and Tiger started playing with her and also taught her how to play football. They were the first people she had ever interacted with.

In the comics, Inyo is allergic to sunlight or has some similar sort of sickness (this was why she always stayed indoors). If you have watched Eli (2019 film on Netflix), I thought her illness was similar to Eli's, only it's very obviously not supernatural. It's why she wears a hazmat-like suit.

Someone found out that Inyo was going outdoors, and Tiger & Miko got in trouble and were forbidden from spending time with Inyo. They thought they hurt her and they didn't even try to sort things out.

Inyo was upset they didn't even try to talk to her and thought she did something wrong (man, I love the miscommunication trope).

(Post-flashback) When she found out that Supa Strikas would be playing against Cognito FC, Inyo was excited to finally have a chance to talk to Tiger.

Supa Strikas thought Cognito FC was cheating somehow in their game. It turned out Inyo is just that smart, and she said that she hates teams that cheat in the Super League. I was so shocked when she was lowkey using psychological warfare in the show because YES, she's intelligent, but she was supposed to be the only other honest coach in the SL.

I don't think Tiger realised Inyo was the Cognito FC coach until half-time, and that was when he told Supa Strikas of their joint past.

Supa Strikas won against Cognito, obviously.

Their next match was an SL final against Invincible United, and guess who returned to IU... Dooma😨.

He trapped Tiger in a locker before the SL final (exactly like Roblok did to Shakes in 'Roblok wars').

Supa Strikas noticed Tiger was missing but I don't think they were able to put off starting the match any longer, Inyo realised something was wrong when she couldn't see Tiger on the pitch, so she started looking for him (I think Miko was there too, but I can't say for certain).

Inyo found Tiger, freed him, and helped him get to the pitch.

Obviously Supa Strikas won (wow, what a surprise).

After the match, Tiger, Miko, and Inyo were finally able to reconnect.

According to @/clydebeech on Instagram in the comments of the post where I found the images from the comic, Dooma also gets sent to jail (YIPPEE!!!).

Please feel free to correct me, because I'm aware I might have misremembered some things. Or if anyone remembers things I don't please let me know🫠🙏

[honeydippedfiction]

Can I get with Jack Hughes “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making.” but as enemies?

Whew I looove a good enemies, hate fuck story. I need a cold shower bestie

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making.”

Jack Hughes x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Michigan was warmer than she remembered.

Y/N had barely stepped out of Trevor Zegras’ car when the thick northern Michigan air wrapped around her like a familiar quilt — warm, worn, and stitched with a hundred summer memories. The scent hit her first: pine needles baked in the sun, damp lake water laced with algae and old laughter, and the smoky tang of someone’s charcoal grill drifting in on the breeze.

It was all achingly familiar.

The dragonflies were already out, buzzing lazily above the gravel like drunk fairies, while cicadas screamed their warbled anthem in the trees overhead. The lake glinted between the pines like a secret being kept — wide and shimmering and framed in gold by the dying sun. She could hear the faint splash of someone cannonballing off the dock, followed by hoots of laughter, likely one of the guys already halfway into their third drink.

The lake house came into view, all wide porches and worn wood, wrapped in ivy and that kind of sun-bleached charm that came from years of careless summers. It looked the same as it had three summers ago — untouched by time or consequence. But Y/N wasn’t the same girl who’d arrived that first year, duffel in hand and nerves buzzing in her chest. She caught a glimpse of herself in the car window and paused.

Ink. So much more of it now.

The full sleeve on her right arm caught the light — waves crashing in deep ocean hues, cherry blossoms trailing through them like they’d been caught in a spring breeze, petals curling down the inside of her wrist. It had taken weeks to finish, and it still felt like it was blooming every time someone looked at it for too long.

On her left hand, the bats peeked out from beneath the strap of her bag — tiny, winged silhouettes in flight across her knuckles, surrounded by delicate sparkles like stardust. A nod to her Halloween obsession, etched in permanence. Behind her right ear, the butterflies — one for each sister — danced in soft pastels, half-hidden in her coils. And beneath her tank top, pressed against her sternum like a secret, the cybernetic heart pulsed in angular ink — all sharp lines and electric sorrow.

She adjusted the strap of her duffel, spine straightening despite the pit blooming in her stomach. This place always felt like a time capsule — and he was always inside it.

“You ready for this chaos again?” Trevor’s voice broke through the noise, and a second later his arm was slung over her shoulder, easy and warm like it always had been.

She let herself lean into him for a beat. “I’ve had nightmares that started this way.”

He laughed, full-bodied and infectious, and wrestled his bag out of the trunk with a grunt. “Please. Same lake, same beer, same dumb debates over whether or not I cheated at Settlers of Catan.”

“You did cheat,” she shot back, already smiling.

He held up both hands. “There’s no proof.”

“There was a whole spreadsheet. Luke made a PowerPoint.”

Trevor groaned dramatically. “Snitches. No loyalty.”

They started walking up the gravel path, the lake house looming closer with every crunch of stone beneath their shoes. Her duffel dug into her shoulder, but the ache was familiar — part of the ritual. The walk up to the house was always the same. The nervous flutter of her heart, the smell of wet wood and sunscreen, the thump of bass through open windows.

And the knowledge that Jack Hughes was somewhere inside.

“You good?” Trevor asked, glancing at her sideways. “Still time to fake a family emergency.”

“I already used that excuse last summer.”

“Damn. Should’ve saved it for this year.”

She exhaled slowly through her nose. “It’s fine. I can go a whole week without committing a felony.”

He smirked. “That’s the spirit.”

But the moment the front door creaked open and that familiar blast of air conditioning hit her skin, all her carefully built composure evaporated.

The living room smelled like cologne and beer, warm pizza grease, and too many guys crammed into one space. Laughter echoed from the kitchen. A hockey game hummed from the big TV. And sprawled across the couch like a throne he hadn’t earned, legs open, curls wild, and smug as ever — was Jack.

He looked up as they walked in, slow and unbothered, thumbs still dancing across his phone screen. His mouth curled into a lopsided smirk that made her want to throw something at his head.

“Well, well,” he said, not even bothering to stand. “The circus arrives early this year.”

Y/N dropped her bag with a heavy thud that rattled the hardwood.

“And look,” she said, sweet as poison, “there’s the clown.”

That got his attention. He looked up at her then, really looked, and the air between them shifted—just slightly, just enough to make the hair on her arms rise. His gaze traveled slowly down her body, lingering like a touch, before dragging back up with a lazy sort of interest that made her teeth clench.

“That sleeve’s new,” he said, eyes narrowing a fraction. “What’s the theme? ‘Tokyo Drift’ meets ‘Moana’?”

She didn’t blink. “Wow, still running with the tattoo jokes? Groundbreaking stuff, Hughes. Truly, a pioneer.”

“I pride myself on brand consistency,” he replied, sipping his beer like this was just another Tuesday.

Trevor breezed past them with a weary shake of his head. “Jesus. We’re not even unpacked and you two are already at it.”

“Consider it foreplay,” Jack muttered.

Y/N turned on him with a sharp look, but Trevor stepped between them with a laugh that sounded just a bit panicked.

“Okay!” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s remember: no one ends up in the lake this year unless they want to be.”

“Define ‘want,’” Y/N said under her breath, eyeing Jack.

As she turned to head toward the stairs, Jack’s voice followed her like a burr stuck to her sleeve.

“Let me guess,” he said, voice smoother now, like he was enjoying this a little too much. “The snake’s for your venomous personality?”

She looked over her shoulder, meeting his eyes dead-on. “No,” she said. “It’s for the venom I save just for you.”

Luke snorted. Cole coughed on his beer and said, “Goddamn,” like this was some sitcom he had front row seats to.

But Jack just grinned — slow, deliberate, annoyingly charming.

His eyes didn’t stop roaming. They flicked to the subtle hint of the heart beneath her tank, the ink that hugged her ribcage and dipped under the curve of her chest. It wasn’t overt, but he caught it anyway.

“That one’s new, too,” he said, gesturing with his bottle. “What’s that vibe? ‘Blade Runner Heartbreak’? ‘Cyborgs Have Feelings Too’?”

“Maybe it’s to remind me not to feel anything when you talk,” she fired back, stepping closer. “Especially when you’re shirtless and three beers deep and pretending you’re not peacocking for the room.”

Jack’s brow arched. “Please. You think I’m showing off for you?”

“You’re definitely not showing off for Cole,” she said, nodding toward the kitchen.

Cole raised his hands. “Hey, don’t bring me into this. I’m just trying to eat my pizza in peace.”

Jack’s smile didn’t fade, but it changed—sharpened at the edges. “You know,” he said, voice quieter now, “you’ve got a lot of ink for someone who hides behind sarcasm like a defense mechanism.”

Y/N stepped in, close enough that the space between them crackled.

“And you’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who’s never had to get to know me past the jokes.”

The room went quiet for half a second too long.

Luke suddenly became very invested in the hockey game. Cole shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth. Even Trevor, now halfway up the stairs, paused and muttered to himself, “Oh, hell.”

The silence snapped when Jack leaned back, putting his hands behind his head, cocky and infuriating as ever. “Well,” he said, “welcome back.”

Y/N gave him a look colder than lake water at sunrise.

“Glad to see your personality’s still as underwhelming as your playoff record.”

She turned and walked up the stairs without waiting for a response.

But she could feel his gaze on her the whole way up. And under her skin, something began to hum — the kind of energy that felt too close to hatred and too far from indifference.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

The rest of the afternoon passed in a sun-drenched blur.

There were half-burnt burgers smoking on the grill, beer pong tournaments erupting on the back deck, and the faint echo of Trevor yelling over the speaker system every time someone skipped his favorite song. A few of the newer girlfriends had taken over the dock for a sunbathing session, their laughter carrying lazily across the lake while someone on the pontoon boat attempted to dock without completely destroying the jet ski tied nearby.

Inside the house, bodies milled through the open floor plan, beer bottles clinked against countertops, and shoes piled by the door like offerings to the gods of summer chaos. The kitchen had become the nucleus of activity — everyone gravitating there between lake swims and flip cup tournaments.

Y/N found herself posted up by the fridge, red solo cup in hand, as the sun dipped low outside and turned the lake into a sheet of molten gold.

The air smelled like charcoal and tequila, sunscreen and summer skin. Somewhere in the living room, someone had pulled up a hockey blooper reel, and now Trevor was mock-commentating over footage of Jack wiping out during practice.

“Tell me you’re a future Hall of Famer without telling me you can’t stay upright on a faceoff,” Trevor snorted into the microphone of someone’s phone. The room erupted in laughter.

Y/N smiled but stayed where she was, leaning one hip against the island as she stirred the melting ice in her drink. Her curls were still damp from the lake, and her tank top clung to her skin in places the sun hadn’t dried. A few errant droplets trailed down from her shoulder, catching the light as they slid over the tattoos inked across her right arm — waves and petals and wind-carved beauty.

She didn’t bother to look, but she could feel him.

Jack had been orbiting her all day. Never directly engaging. Not starting a fight — not yet — but never quite gone, either. Like some cosmic joke, he always seemed to appear in the same rooms she was in, always a few feet away, always with that same unreadable expression flickering across his face.

It was like being haunted. But worse, because he was hot and annoying and real.

She turned slightly to refill her drink from the cooler on the counter, and there he was again.

Leaning in the doorway. Beer in one hand. Silhouette framed by the last streaks of daylight cutting through the windows. His curls were still wet from the lake, pushed back and drying into careless perfection, and his bare shoulders were sun-dusted, tan lines already setting in from a summer spent half-shirtless.

His eyes were on her. Again.

Y/N tried to ignore the flutter in her chest — not attraction, she told herself, just indigestion from the shitty tequila punch someone had mixed earlier.

“You good?” Trevor appeared at her elbow with another bag of ice and a bottle of lime juice that had definitely not been part of the original drink plan.

She gave a one-shoulder shrug, barely glancing toward Jack. “Peachy.”

Trevor followed her gaze and made a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

“Do you think maybe, just maybe, you two could go one week without threatening each other’s existence?” he asked under his breath.

Y/N took a slow sip of her drink. “That depends. Is he gonna keep breathing in my direction?”

Trevor sighed and started mixing something dangerously green in the pitcher.

“Look, I know you don’t like him—”

“I don’t hate him,” she interrupted. “I just… dislike every single thing that comes out of his mouth.”

Trevor snorted. “Noted.”

But Jack wasn’t saying anything tonight. Not yet. He was just standing there, watching. His gaze flicked to her cup, her hand, then trailed briefly down the tattoos on her arm before settling back on her face.

It was infuriating.

She turned toward the kitchen sink to escape the heat of his stare, rinsing out her cup with a little too much force. Her sternum tattoo — the angular, electric lines of the cybernetic heart — peeked out from beneath the hem of her tank top when she leaned forward, and she caught movement from the corner of her eye.

Jack. His gaze had dropped again, jaw tense, beer paused halfway to his lips.

“You got a staring problem or just trying to burn my skin off with your eyes?” she asked, not bothering to hide the sharp edge in her voice as she turned to face him.

The room quieted for half a second.

Jack’s mouth quirked, slow and amused. “Just trying to figure out if that new ink glows in the dark. Feels like it should.”

Y/N tilted her head, smile biting. “Don’t worry, Hughes. If it did, I’d use it to light up the parts of your brain you clearly never developed.”

“Ouch,” he said, grinning now, stepping just slightly into the kitchen. “You rehearse that one on the drive here?”

“Nope,” she said sweetly. “I’ve got a whole file of comebacks just for you. It’s alphabetical.”

Trevor, halfway through refilling his cup, muttered, “Swear to god, it’s like watching foreplay between two angry raccoons.”

Jack didn’t even flinch. “I think she just likes having an excuse to talk to me.”

Y/N raised a brow. “I think you just like pretending I want to.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Not yelling. Not teasing. Just looking.

The air was thick between them. Tighter than it had been earlier. The energy was wrong—no, not wrong. Complicated. Familiar. Like a song you’ve heard too many times to admit you still like.

A beat passed.

Another.

Jack took a slow sip from his beer, eyes still locked on hers, then tipped his head just slightly toward the door. “You gonna keep watching me from the corner all night, or do you actually want to come talk shit on the dock like old times?”

Y/N blinked.

The invitation was casual — delivered with that same lazy, careless tone he always used — but it felt loaded. Come talk shit. Like it wasn’t really about the talking. Or the shit. Or the past.

“I’d rather jump into the lake with rocks in my pockets,” she said, brushing past him, shoulder grazing his as she moved.

But she didn’t miss the way he turned to watch her go.

Or how his fingers tapped slowly against the neck of his beer bottle, like he was counting the seconds she stayed in the room.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

Later, when the firepit was roaring outside and the sound of someone’s Bluetooth speaker warbled into the night, Y/N sat with her legs curled beneath her on one of the Adirondack chairs, a hoodie thrown over her tank, the scorpion tattoo on her thigh just visible in the flickering firelight.

Jack sat across from her, beer in hand, his expression unreadable.

Neither of them said a word. But their eyes met across the flames, heat rising between them like smoke.

And in that moment — between the hiss of embers and the echo of laughter in the trees — something shifted.

Something old.

Something new.

Something dangerous.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

​​By the third day, the tension wasn’t just under the surface anymore. It was floating in the air—palpable, charged, visible. Like heat rising off asphalt, or ozone before a thunderstorm.

Jack and Y/N couldn’t exist in the same space without some form of combustion. Whether it was a quiet stare that lingered too long, or a whispered insult sharp enough to draw metaphorical blood, the two were stuck in a loop neither seemed capable—or willing—to break.

So when someone, probably Quinn, suggested a full boat day out on the lake, everyone agreed with a little too much enthusiasm. Fresh air. Open water. Distance.

A chance to reset the energy—or at least drown it in sunscreen and Bud Light.

The Hughes family boat, a loud, sun-bleached beast built for speed and noise, launched into the lake with a roar of horsepower and bravado. Trevor was behind the wheel first, shirtless, backwards hat on, yelling “DJ rights are mine, don’t even try me,” while a rookie defenseman from Anaheim who had no idea what he’d signed up for clutched the side railing like it was a life preserver.

Y/N sat near the front, sunglasses on, long legs stretched over the seat cushions. The mesh of her black pants clung damp to her thighs from where she'd dipped her legs in earlier, and the triangle lines of her bikini top peeked through the gauzy white tank she’d thrown on to keep the sun from baking her shoulders raw.

She was fine. Or at least, pretending to be. The lake shimmered in every direction, and for a moment, she almost managed to forget Jack was on the boat.

Almost.

Until he wasn’t just on it—but directly across from her.

She caught the movement before she heard his voice: the way he eased into the seat, all lazy limbs and careless confidence, water still drying along his collarbones. His skin was tanned from the last few days, chest still damp from a dive off the side, and his hair—wet and curling—was pushed back just enough to show off the sharp cut of his cheekbones.

It was annoying how good he looked. Even more annoying that he knew it.

“Running out of places to put ink?” Jack asked, his voice all casual bite as he tilted his chin toward her exposed thigh. “Or is the goal to become a living museum?”

Y/N didn’t even blink. “Wouldn’t you love to buy a ticket.”

Jack smirked, beer balanced in one hand. “I’d probably get bored halfway through the tour.”

“I’d kick you out in the lobby,” she said flatly.

Trevor’s laugh burst from the back of the boat. “God, I missed this energy. So relaxing.”

But it was different this time.

It wasn’t just the usual sniping. There was an edge to it now—one they’d been circling since the start of the trip. A weight behind the words neither of them wanted to name.

Jack leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees. “Serious question. Do you ever get tired of acting like the world owes you something?”

Y/N stiffened. Her sunglasses slid down just enough for him to see her eyes.

“You want to try that again?” she asked, voice deceptively calm.

“I’m just saying,” Jack continued, like this wasn’t the verbal equivalent of lighting a match in a gas station, “it’s exhausting watching you walk around like you’ve got something to prove to every person you meet.”

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears. “And you walk around like you’ve never had to earn a single thing in your life.”

That hit.

Jack’s mouth tightened. Just barely.

“You think I haven’t worked for this?” he asked, low. “You think being in this league is easy just because of my last name?”

She didn’t flinch. “No, I think you’ve never been told no. Not once. Not in any way that actually mattered.”

His jaw twitched. “And you think being difficult makes you deep? That lashing out is some kind of personality?”

“It’s called having boundaries,” she snapped. “Try developing some instead of coasting on charm and goals-per-game stats.”

That made Trevor finally sit up from where he’d been messing with the aux cord. “Okay, okay, Jesus—are we gonna have to put you two in separate flotation devices?”

But neither Jack nor Y/N looked away.

It wasn’t just about tattoos now. It wasn’t even about the past three days. This was something older. Something that had been growing for years. Since that first summer when they’d met and instantly hated each other without even knowing why.

And now, it was boiling over.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Jack said finally, quietly.

Y/N met his stare. “You never wanted to.”

“Y/N,” Trevor called sharply, finally catching the tension. “Hey—hey. Let’s all chill.”

But Jack was already pushing to his feet too, lips twisted into a mocking smile. “I don’t have to get it. You’re loud enough to make sure no one misses the message anyway.”

That did it.

Trevor stepped between them, palms out like a referee. “Jesus Christ, can you two go five minutes without dragging each other through the mud?”

“Tell your boy to keep my tattoos out of his mouth,” Y/N said, glaring past him.

Silence.

The boat was still moving, but slower now. The lake stretched endlessly around them, blue and glittering, the horizon sharp against the sky. Quinn was steering from the back, his face unreadable behind dark sunglasses.

Y/N stood, brushing past Jack without touching him. She walked toward the edge of the bow, pausing at the railing.

Jack watched her go.

Then he stood too.

“What are you doing?” Trevor called from the back.

“Apparently ruining the trip,” Y/N called, climbing onto the ledge.

Trevor looked at Jack, who didn’t say a word—just gave that same infuriating half-smile, like he’d won something. Y/N wasn’t sure what that something was, but it made her skin crawl.

“Luke, I’m swimming,” she called over her shoulder, already stripping off her mesh pants. “Coming?”

“Always,” Luke said, popping up from where he’d been sitting at the edge of the boat.

And then she jumped.

No hesitation. Just a clean dive into the glassy water, a burst of white spray behind her. A few seconds later, her head surfaced several yards from the boat, curls plastered to her cheeks, expression unreadable.

Luke immediately launched in after her. “WATER BREAK.”

Cole hesitated, then tossed off his shirt and jumped in after them, following Y/N as she dove clean into the lake.

Trevor rolled his eyes and followed. “Better than a fistfight, I guess.”

Jack didn’t move.

He just stood there, watching the spot where she’d disappeared, still hearing her voice in his head.

“You never wanted to.”

The rest of the group was laughing again now. Splashing. Play-fighting. Someone tossed a foam football into the water. But Jack couldn’t shake the feel of that moment—of her words landing like punches he didn’t know he’d earned.

He sat back down, hard.

For once, he had nothing to say.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

The water was cold, a slap to her overheated skin, and she welcomed it. Let it wash away the fury clinging to her like sweat. She broke the surface with a gasp, flipping her hair back and blinking against the sunlight.

“God,” she muttered, swimming a few feet away from the boat. “He is unbearable.”

Trevor bobbed nearby, treading water. “Yeah, well… he’s Jack.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

Luke snorted. “It’s not. But it’s also not not an explanation.”

Y/N floated onto her back, letting the waves cradle her. Her fingers trailed along the water, tracing invisible patterns.

“He just talks like my tattoos say more about me than I do,” she said quietly, mostly to herself.

Trevor swam beside her and gently splashed water toward her face. “You know that’s not true. You say plenty. And anyone with eyes knows those tattoos mean something.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. Her fingertips grazed the spot behind her ear where three tiny butterflies fluttered beneath her skin—one for her, and one each for her sisters. Anchors, reminders.

“You know what the serpent means?” she said after a moment.

“No,” Cole said. “But I’m guessing it’s not just there to look badass.”

She glanced toward the boat, where Jack had disappeared from view. “It’s for resilience,” she said. “Rebirth. And beauty, even when it’s dangerous.”

Trevor looked at her. “Sounds like you.”

Y/N didn’t smile. But her expression softened.

Then she dunked Trevor beneath the water.

“You’re still annoying,” she called as he surfaced, sputtering and laughing.

She swam away from the boat, heart still pounding, anger not quite gone—but at least now, the sun was warm, the water was cool, and Jack was on the other side of it all.

For now.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

The ride back to the lake house was uncomfortably quiet.

The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting the water in shades of fire and bronze. The wind had chilled slightly, the kind of temperature shift that whispered the day was ending — that whatever had been said, done, or felt would settle like silt once the light faded.

Quinn steered the boat in a wide arc toward the dock, Luke beside him fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker but not playing anything. The silence was intentional now, a mutual truce after the earlier blow-up. Even Cole had stopped his usual stream of chirps and commentary, nursing a Gatorade and keeping his eyes on the shoreline.

Y/N sat alone at the bow, towel wrapped around her torso, skin still damp from the lake. Her curls were tied back, little droplets clinging to the tips. The towel was pulled snugly across her chest, but Jack’s comment about her back tattoo still burned just beneath the fabric — a phantom heat worse than sunburn.

She could feel the serpent along her spine tighten. Coil. Hiss.

She hadn’t even looked at Jack since climbing back onto the boat. She didn’t need to. She could feel him watching her from the opposite end of the boat, behind his sunglasses, posture deceptively relaxed — stretched out like he didn’t have a single regret.

Typical.

He was sitting near the rear bench, beer can in one hand, his other arm slung lazily across the backrest. From the outside, he looked like someone enjoying a perfect summer day. But from the few times she caught a glance out of the corner of her eye, his jaw was tense. His fingers tapped restlessly against the aluminum of his drink. And he wasn’t talking. Not even to Luke.

Not even to chirp her.

Which somehow annoyed her even more.

Trevor, diplomatic as ever, kept casting glances back at her, as if waiting for a cue — some kind of signal that she was okay or not okay or might be okay by the time they got back to the house. But Y/N didn’t give it. She just stared out at the water, watching the wake behind them fracture the lake’s surface into a mirror of splinters.

The boat jolted slightly as it hit a small wave, and instinctively, Jack reached out and gripped the rail.

Y/N’s head turned, sharp and automatic.

Their eyes met. Only for a second.

But in that second, something passed between them — something that neither of them had words for, and probably never would.

Regret? Maybe.

Guilt? Doubtful.

But something.

She turned back to the water first.

He exhaled, barely audible over the hum of the motor.

“Y/N…” Jack started.

It was the first time he’d said her name in hours — said it without sarcasm, without venom. Just said it.

She didn’t turn around.

“Don’t,” she said flatly.

A pause.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Jack.” Her voice was steel now. Still not loud. But enough to shut him up.

And he did.

The rest of the ride was a quiet surrender.

Quinn finally docked the boat with practiced ease. Quinn hopped off to tie the ropes, and Luke jumped to the dock with a loud splash as he stumbled over a rope coil. The boys scattered in pairs, grabbing bags and towels, filing off the boat like a rowdy camp trip breaking for dinner.

Y/N didn’t move right away.

She stood slowly, towel still clutched tight, and reached down to grab her mesh pants and speaker. Jack was still on the boat behind her, watching.

This time she turned. Just slightly. Not enough to be vulnerable. Just enough to let him know she felt his stare.

“You don’t get to treat me like a punchline and then backpedal because you got quiet,” she said, low and precise. “Figure out what you’re doing.”

Then she stepped off the boat and onto the dock.

The walk up from the dock was a long one. Not in distance, but in mood.

The gravel path crunched underfoot, the sound too loud in the hush that had settled over the group. Twilight was bleeding across the sky in long streaks of lavender and smoky rose, the golden-hour glow having faded into something softer, cooler, and far more uncertain. The kind of light that made everything look like it belonged to memory.

Y/N trailed behind the others, towel wrapped tight around her frame. Her skin was still damp, her hair beginning to dry into soft coils that framed her jaw and stuck to the back of her neck. She felt the weight of the day clinging to her more than the water. Her body was sore in that post-sun, post-salt, post-exhaustion way—but her mind was louder. Buzzing.

The house loomed ahead, lights glowing through the windows like a welcome she didn’t fully believe in. From inside came the muffled sounds of music—someone had finally put something on, something low and moody, maybe The War on Drugs or Bon Iver—and the faint clatter of dishes. Dinner was probably already half-prepped. Someone had lit the citronella candles on the porch, and their flickering glow danced across the faces of those who’d already claimed chairs.

She could feel Jack behind her. Not close. Not touching. But there.

Every step he took echoed somewhere beneath her ribs.

Inside, the air conditioning hit her skin like a slap, and she shivered as she stepped through the door. Trevor peeled away toward the kitchen, offering her a fresh towel and a bottle of water without saying anything. He knew her well enough to know when not to ask.

“Shower’s open upstairs,” he said instead. “Cole’s next, but you’ve got time.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

She disappeared down the hall and climbed the stairs without looking back. The second her bedroom door shut behind her, she exhaled—long, shaky, silent. Then she dropped the towel, stripped off her clothes, and turned the shower up to near-scalding. She needed heat that didn’t come from anger. Needed steam to fog up the mirror and blur the edges of the day.

The water rushed over her like an avalanche, and she stood there beneath it, eyes closed, letting it wash the lake and the tension and Jack Hughes out of her pores. Or trying to.

But even with her eyes shut, she could still hear his voice. You ever get tired of acting like the world owes you something?And worse— Do you think being difficult makes you deep?

She ground her teeth, fingers gripping the edge of the tiled wall.

He doesn’t know you.

And yet somehow, he knew just where to strike.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

Downstairs, the boys had regrouped.

Dinner was a casual thing—burgers again, someone reheating leftover ribs, Luke scavenging through the fridge like a gremlin. Cole was back to his usual banter, though it was a little more subdued than usual. Quinn was slicing limes with surgical precision, and Trevor was manning the grill while half-watching a preseason baseball game on mute.

Jack stood at the edge of it all, leaning against the railing of the back deck, beer in hand. The bottle was sweating in his grip. He wasn’t drinking it.

“Are you gonna say something?” Quinn asked, stepping up beside him.

Jack didn’t look at him. “About what.”

“You know what.”

A pause.

“I was an asshole,” Jack said, the words like gravel in his throat. “I just… didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

Quinn gave a soft huff. “You never do. But it always does.”

Jack flexed his jaw. “It’s not like she doesn’t give it right back.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it.” Quinn took a sip of water, gaze still fixed on the tree line. “She defends herself. You provoke. There’s a difference.”

Jack didn’t respond right away. Just stared out at the lake, now rippling silver in the growing darkness. The reflection of the moon danced across the surface like something delicate and impossible to catch.

He wanted to say that she made him angry. That she infuriated him. That she always had this way of getting under his skin—smirking like she knew something he didn’t, standing there with tattoos that made no apologies and eyes that saw right through him. He wanted to say it was easier to poke at her than to actually ask her who she really was.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead, he murmured, “She was right.”

Quinn gave him a sidelong glance. “About what?”

Jack finally looked down at the bottle in his hand. “I don’t know shit about her.”

And it bothered him more than it should.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

Upstairs, Y/N emerged from the shower wrapped in a towel and silence.

She stood in front of the mirror, wiping away steam in a slow, deliberate swipe. Her eyes were puffy from the heat, her skin flushed, but it wasn’t the kind of red that came from sun or soap. It was anger. And something else underneath it. Something she didn’t want to name.

She dropped the towel and dressed slowly—black tank, loose cotton shorts, her usual necklace with the tiny opal charm her sister gave her before she moved across the country. She towel-dried her hair just enough to keep it from dripping, then braided it loosely over one shoulder.

As she passed the mirror again, she caught sight of the serpent along her back.

The tattoo shimmered faintly in the soft bedroom light, coiled and regal. It looked like it was breathing. Like it had something to say.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered to her reflection, lips twitching despite herself. “We’re not having a self-growth moment.”

Still, she held the gaze in the mirror for a moment longer, then turned off the light.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

Dinner passed with minimal tension. Y/N sat at the far end of the table beside Luke and Cole, laughing at their antics, pretending not to notice that Jack was directly across from her. They didn’t speak. But they didn’t snipe either.

It felt like… detente. Not peace. But a pause.

After dinner, most of the group gravitated toward the fire pit at the edge of the backyard. Someone lit a bonfire, and soon there were marshmallows and Bluetooth speakers and lazy conversations under a canopy of stars. The air had that perfect Michigan chill—warm enough to be barefoot, cool enough to justify a hoodie.

Y/N stood at the edge of it all, sipping from a cider can, her hoodie zipped halfway up, shorts peeking out beneath. The flames flickered in her eyes, and the butterflies behind her ear caught the light when she tilted her head.

Jack saw her from across the fire.

He was talking to Quinn, or pretending to, but he wasn’t listening. Not really. His eyes kept drifting back to her.

She hadn’t spoken to him since the boat. Hadn’t even looked his way.

But when he finally gathered the courage to move around the fire and approach her, she didn’t walk away.

She just looked at him—neutral, unreadable.

The fire was crackling now, settled into that steady rhythm of glowing embers and occasional pops that made it feel almost comforting. Almost.

Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, cider can still cool in her hand. The warmth of the flames licked at her calves, but her spine felt cold. A familiar kind of cold—the one that came when Jack Hughes was within five feet of her.

And now, here he was.

Standing at the edge of the firelight, just close enough to make her aware of him. Just far enough to make her wish he’d turn around and walk back into the shadows.

He’d been watching her all night. She knew it. Felt it in the hairs at the back of her neck, the low thrum of tension that hummed beneath her skin like a faulty wire. She didn’t have to look to know he was doing it again.

He made her tired. Not just emotionally—viscerally. The kind of tired that settled in your bones and refused to leave.

He stepped closer, uninvited. Of course.

Y/N didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But the smile she’d worn while laughing at one of Cole’s stupid jokes cooled instantly, fading from her mouth like breath on glass.

“You always gotta be on?” Jack asked, low enough that only she could hear. His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it. There always was. “All performance, no pause?”

She turned, eyes sharp.

“You always gotta be underwhelming?” she replied flatly. “Can’t help it, or just trying to impress your own ego?”

Jack’s mouth curled—not quite a smile. Not quite not.

“You think you’re so unreadable,” he said, voice soft and cutting. “But you’re not. You wear everything like armor, then act surprised when someone sees the cracks.”

“And you wear your mediocrity like a badge,” she snapped. “So congratulations—I saw you. Happy now?”

Someone tossed a new log onto the fire. The sparks flared, briefly lighting both their faces. For a moment, their expressions mirrored the flame: bright, angry, wild.

Neither of them moved.

“I was trying to be civil,” Jack said finally. “Figured I’d try something different for once.”

Y/N laughed. Just once. A sharp, bitter sound.

“Why start now?”

His jaw ticked. “Maybe because every time we talk, it’s like standing in front of a damn mirror.”

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You throw punches before anyone can get close. So do I. That’s not chemistry, that’s just damage control.”

She blinked. That… hit closer than she expected.

But instead of letting it land, she shifted. Tilted her head and gave him a look that was all glass and steel.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hughes. You and I? We’re not mirrors. We’re gasoline and matches. That’s all.”

Jack didn’t respond.

For a moment, he looked at her like he was going to. Like something sharp and unfiltered was about to rip out of him—but then he stopped. Bit it back. Let it rot inside his mouth.

He nodded once. More to himself than her.

“Right,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your whole tortured lone-wolf thing.”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it gave her a headache. “Jesus. Do you practice this nonsense in the mirror or are you just naturally this exhausting?”

Before he could answer, Trevor appeared at her side with perfect timing—offering her a marshmallow-topped skewer like a peace treaty, oblivious or maybe willfully ignorant of the fuse that had just burned out between them.

“You okay?” he asked lightly, eyes flicking between her and Jack.

She smiled. Tight. Controlled.

“Peachy.”

Jack didn’t say anything. Just turned and walked back toward the other side of the fire, where Luke and Quinn were deep in some half-drunken debate about the best hockey movie of all time. Y/N didn’t watch him go, but she felt every step like a nerve flaring up.

Trevor handed her the skewer.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, quieter this time.

She stared into the fire. “I’m fine. He’s just… Jack.”

Trevor exhaled like that explained everything. And maybe it did.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

Later that night, the house had quieted. Most of the guys had drifted off to bed or disappeared into video games and beer pong inside. The backyard was mostly still—except for Y/N, who sat alone on the porch steps in one of Trevor’s hoodies, the sleeves too long, her curls loose and slightly damp again from another quick rinse.

The crickets were out. The cicadas had gone quiet. The lake was black and endless.

Behind her, the screen door creaked.

She didn’t turn.

“Still following me?” she asked, voice low.

“Nope,” Jack replied. “Just came to grab my hoodie. Thought it was in the kitchen.”

She turned halfway, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’m not wearing your hoodie.”

“I know.” He paused. “Didn’t say you were.”

Silence stretched between them like string, taut and unwilling to break.

Finally, Y/N stood. Brushed off her shorts. Walked past him without a word.

And just like always, Jack turned as she did, watching her go like he was trying to figure her out.

He wouldn’t.

He never would.

And she didn’t care enough to help him try.

·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇ •❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇•❣•୨୧┈┈┈୨୧•❣• ·̇·̣̇̇·̣̣̇·̣̇̇·̇

The lake house was too quiet.

Y/N had convinced everyone she was feeling a little “off” that morning—blamed it on sun exposure, maybe mild dehydration, whatever excuse made people stop asking questions. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. Her head was pounding. But the source of the ache wasn’t the sun.

It was Jack freaking Hughes.

Every summer she came here, every year she told herself she’d be mature enough to handle his bullshit. That maybe he’d grow up, evolve past the smug, sarcastic douchebag routine. And every year, he proved her wrong.

So no, she wasn’t on the boat today. She wasn’t playing third wheel to testosterone and tequila. She needed quiet. Space. A single breath that wasn’t laced with tension or his cologne or the sound of his voice.

She padded downstairs just past eleven, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands, hair pulled into a loose puff. The house was still—no shouting, no speakers, no Trevor stomping around in flip-flops.

Perfect.

She rounded the last step and turned into the living room—and froze.

There he was.

Sprawled out on the couch like he owned it—hoodie and shorts, one leg propped up from resting against the coffee table, phone in hand, earbuds hanging loose around his neck. Hair messy. Barefoot.

Jack looked… comfortable.

Too comfortable.

Y/N’s stomach dropped, then twisted, then flared into irritation like a flare gun.

He didn’t even glance up.

She crossed her arms slowly. “What are you doing here?”

Jack didn’t blink. “Last time I checked, I own the place.”

Her nostrils flared. “Yeah, whatever. You’re supposed to be with the others on the boat.”

He tapped something on his screen. “Didn’t feel like going.”

“Wow,” she said dryly. “And here I thought they banned you for being insufferable.”

He smirked—finally looking up, his gaze slow and assessing. “Funny. I could say the same about you.”

She rolled her eyes so hard it made her dizzy. “Don’t flatter yourself. I stayed behind because I needed a break. From the noise.”

“From me, you mean.”

“If the shoe fits…”

Jack sat up now, stretching slowly, like he had all the time in the world. “So let me get this straight. You lied to everyone to avoid being around me, only to end up alone with me anyway.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re not clever, Jack. You’re just exhausting.”

“And you’re not mysterious. You’re just loud.”

“Loud?” she repeated, voice rising. “Oh, you’re one to talk. Mr. Look At Me I’m the Franchise.”

Jack stood now too, phone forgotten on the coffee table.

“Yeah?” he said, stepping toward her. “At least I don’t hide behind tattoos and attitude like they’re some kind of personality.”

Y/N took a step forward herself, eyes burning. “You don’t have a personality. You have a brand.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jack snapped. “Do I not live up to your little rebel-with-a-backstory fantasy?”

She was in his face now, close enough to smell mint and lake water and him.

“You’re a walking caution sign, Hughes.”

“And you’re just looking for something to hate so you don’t have to admit you’re not satisfied with yourself.”

The words hit like static—like something too true, too fast.

They were breathing hard now. Close. Too close. His chest brushed hers with every inhale. Her hand itched to shove him, slap him, something—

Instead, she grabbed his hoodie.

And kissed him.

Fierce. Sharp. Like a fight with no winner.

Jack responded instantly—like he’d been waiting for this exact moment, like every snide remark had been a rope pulling them toward this inevitable fire.

His mouth was hot, demanding. Her fingers curled in the fabric at his chest. His hands slid to her waist, gripping tight like he didn’t trust himself to stop.

She bit his lip.

He groaned into her mouth.

And then just as quickly—she pulled back, breath ragged, eyes wide.

They stared at each other.

“What the hell,” she whispered.

Jack blinked. “Don’t look at me like I started it.”

“You—You’re infuriating.”

“Then why the hell are you still standing that close?”

Y/N shoved him back—palms on his chest, firm.

“Don’t,” she said, voice shaking. “Don’t act like this means anything.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move.

“It doesn’t,” he said finally, voice low.

She nodded once.

“Good.”

Y/N’s hand was fisted in his hoodie still. Jack was staring at her mouth, dark eyes intense.

She kissed him again.

This time, she pushed him down.

Into the couch cushions. He fell back, a little too slow, like he didn’t realize she was pushing him down. She straddled his lap, hands on either side of him as they kissed. Hard, and angry, and burning.

His hands slid up her waist—rough and desperate—and then, he pulled back. “Wait,” he breathed. “Wait, wait—what are we—”

Y/N didn’t know either. All she knew was the way his fingers felt against her skin and the way her heart was racing and the way he looked beneath her. All she knew was she hated him. Hated him—so she kissed him harder, just to prove it. She kissed him until he stopped pulling away.

Until his hands moved to her thighs, thumbs brushing against the edge of her shorts, pulling her closer. Until she could feel the hard line of his dick against her stomach. Until he was kissing her back, biting at her bottom lip and she bit his in return. Until his hand slid over her ribs, fingers splayed out against her sweatshirt, pressing into her skin—

And then his thumb slid under her breast. And she gasped against him.

His hand paused. “Fuck,” he whispered against her mouth. “Can I—”

She nodded, once, her mouth finding his again.

His hand slid up, fingers finding her nipple through the fabric. She moaned, and he swallowed the sound. His other hand followed, and soon she threw her sweatshirt off, it landed onto the beer pong table in the corner, just so he could touch her, so he could keep his fingers there—pinching and teasing until she was breathless and shaking.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whispered against her throat. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this—”

She gasped as his thumb rolled over her nipple. “God just shut up Jack.”

She grabbed his hand and pushed it down between her legs. His fingers brushed over her, just above her clit—and then he pulled back. She tried to follow his fingers, but his free hand gripped her hip, stopping her.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he growled. “Just sit there and take it.”

And then he pushed the fabric of her shorts to the side. Her hips jerked as he touched her again, his fingers so close to her clit, teasing over her entrance, just light enough that it drove her mad, that she was squirming against him. His mouth found hers again, hot and desperate, and his fingers started to circle over her clit, slow and steady and too fucking good.

He groaned against her skin. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

She shivered, his words and fingers and voice all combining in a dizzying cocktail of sensation.

His thumb traced her clit and back down—again and again until she was shaking and breathless. Until her hips were following his fingers.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, please, please—”

And then, he slid two fingers inside her.

Y/N gasped, hips bucking against his hand. He groaned, the sound vibrating against her skin.

He curled his fingers—hitting all the spots that had her seeing stars. His thumb found her clit, and she felt like she was burning alive.

“God,” Jack’s voice was low. “For someone who hates me so much, you’re sure soaking my fingers, aren’t you, princess?”

His voice was smug and annoying and the only thing keeping her grounded as she felt herself spiraling higher and higher with every stroke of his fingers against her.

“Shut up,” Y/N choked out.

He laughed against her throat as his fingers sped up, hitting that same spot every time, the other hand gripping her hip, holding her down as her body jerked. “I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you like this. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“You’re such an ass,” she hissed. “You’re such a fucking—” she cut off with a moan. She was so close, she was so—

And then—his thumb paused.

“What the fuck,” Y/N gasped.

“Aw, did I stop?” Jack said, voice light and mocking and cruel. “I’m so sorry, princess. But I really can’t let you finish until you admit just how much you love it.” He pressed his fingers inside her, not moving, just enough to tease. His thumb stroked her clit once, and she nearly fell apart.

“Admit it,” he demanded, his voice low, fingers still inside her.

She wanted to scream. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

His fingers stilled.

“Wrong answer, princess.” He pulled his hand out from her shorts. “It’s okay if you can’t say it out loud. I know I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

She shoved him—hard—and he laughed, catching her hands. “What?” he mocked. “Are you mad because I made you come or because you didn’t get to come?”

He pressed his fingers inside her, not moving, just enough to tease. His thumb stroked her clit once, and she nearly fell apart.

“Admit it,” he demanded, his voice low, fingers still inside her.

She wanted to scream. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

His fingers stilled.

“Wrong answer, princess.” He pulled his hand out from her shorts. “It’s okay if you can’t say it out loud. I know I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

She shoved him—hard—and he laughed, catching her hands. “What?” he mocked. “Are you mad because I made you wet or because you didn’t get to come?”  He was smirking. “Oh my God, you’re still shaking.” His smirk deepened. “I knew you wanted it.”

She hated him. She hated him so much.

So she kissed him.

She bit at his lip—hard enough to hurt—until his smug little smile faltered.

Until his fingers were back against her clit—until she was moaning into his mouth—until she was gasping against his lips, eyes squeezed shut, nails biting into his shoulders as his fingers sent her higher and higher.

“You hate me,” Jack said, his voice a dark whisper as he pressed his fingers deep inside her. “But your body doesn’t care, does it?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. “Say it.”

“I hate you.”

His thumb stroked over her clit. “I know, I know. But you love my fingers.”

Y/N choked on a moan. “Fuck you.”

“You love the way they feel inside you.”

“I hate you.” Her voice was breathless, desperate.

His fingers curled. “Such. A. Fucking. Liar.”

She moaned. Louder now. Her hips were moving, following his hand, and her head fell forward as his thumb found her clit again.

“Say it,” he said, fingers relentless. “Say it and I’ll let you come. I’ll make you feel so good.” His fingers pressed deeper and she moaned again—breathless, desperate—so close.

“I hate you,” she gasped. “I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you—” she choked out a sound. Her hips snapped forward. Her fingers twisted in his sweater. Her eyes squeezed shut.

And then she was coming—falling apart on his fingers as the world went bright white, as the only sound she could hear was her own moans. He whispered against her throat, voice rough and dark and needy, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of her own heart pounding. She couldn’t think—she couldn’t—she was spiraling, she was—

Jack’s fingers slowed, but didn’t stop. Not yet. His mouth found hers. She kissed back—desperate and shaking and breathless—and his fingers curled and she was seeing stars again—again and again and again.

Y/N was tired of his teasing and decided to take matters into her own hands. She pulls back and throws Jack's hoodie off of him and then begrudgingly pulls his fingers from her.  She slips from his lap, her knees landing on the soft carpet, and looks back up at him.

"You want to be a jerkoff about me loving this? Well, how do you like it when you are being sucked off by someone that hates you?" She asks as she pulls back for a second. His eyes are wide as he stares down at her.

"Your turn." She says as she leans down to lick up the outline of his dick through his shorts. Her spit soaking the fabric.

 Jack's breathing was getting heavier.

"Fuck, that's hot. But you can do better than that." He says as he lifts her back up to eye level and grabs the back of her head and shoves her back down, grinding against his hard cock against her face. He smirked at her glare. Her hands traced the sides of his thighs, feeling him tense every time she got close to his cock. “Take them off,” she demanded.

He stood, kicking out of his shorts and boxer briefs, and Y/N’s mouth went dry. He was big. Long and thick and so fucking hard. Her eyes flicked up to his. He smirked.

“Like what you see, princess?”

She shoved his chest, and he fell back onto the couch, cock jutting up against his stomach. He was staring at her with those dark eyes, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. She could read it in the way he looked at her, like this was just another fight. Another thing to win. But she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. She wasn’t going to let him think he’d won.

She glared, and then she gripped his thighs and pulled him closer. His breath caught as her lips brushed his cock—and then her tongue followed. His hand fisted her hair.

So Y/N leaned down and licked him—just a stripe up the side of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut, and his hips jerked. She grinned and did it again, her tongue following the vein up the side before she pressed a kiss to the tip. His hips jerked again, and when she looked up, his eyes were dark. “Fucking tease,” he muttered, and she laughed, the sound vibrating against the head of his cock.

He swore, hips trying to buck, but her hands held him down. “Stop being such a baby, Hughes.”

“You’re going to pay for that,” he warned.

“Oh my God,” she said. “Shut up.” She took him in her mouth—just the tip at first, tongue swirling around him, her hand gripping him at the base. He groaned. “Fuck—Y/N—fuck—”

Jack groans and leans his head back, his hands tangling in her hair as she starts to suck. He hits the back of her throat and she gags a little bit, but then she takes him deeper, her lips stretching around his girth.

She choked, and he pulled her back, stroking her cheek. “Shh,” he murmured, voice so soft it sounded like a completely different person. “Breathe through your nose. That’s it.”

She hummed, tongue pressing into him. "Shit, that's perfect." He moans, his hips lifting off the couch slightly, pushing him further into her throat. She hums, the vibration making him moan again. She starts to bob her head faster, her tongue swirling around him, tasting every inch of him.

"You're so good at this." He says, his voice strained. She looks up at him, her eyes meeting his and she can see how much he's enjoying it, how much he's struggling to hold back. She sucks harder, her cheeks hollowing out and he lets out a loud groan. His hand tightens in her hair,

“Fuck,” he whispered, as her mouth moved up and down his length. “Fuck, that feels good. That’s so fucking good.”

His hips jerked, and her mouth parted. Her tongue slid around the head, and his fingers tightened in her hair. He let out a low moan, and she glanced up at him. His eyes were on her, dark and burning.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he rasped. “Look at you. Sucking my cock.”

She rolled her eyes but took him deeper—slowly. His head fell back, and his hand guided , hips canting forward. She ran her tongue up his shaft, swirling around the tip, and when his thumb brushed her bottom lip, she opened her mouth wider. She let him fuck her mouth. Hard and fast and rough until his cock was hitting the back of her throat.

Her nails dug into his thighs, and he hissed. “Fuck, your mouth is perfect.”

He pushed back in—deeper and deeper, her eyes burning as she blinked up at him.

“Good girl,” he groaned. “You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

And then she relaxed her throat, and he sank in.

His moan was loud. Sharp. His hips jerked forward, and she let him fuck her mouth—hard and fast.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuckfuckfuck—your throat is so tight. God, I’m not going to last.”

And then, she pulled back—popping off of his cock.

“Y/N,” he gasped. His cock was wet from her mouth, and she stroked him slowly, smirking at the sight in front of her. Jack’s cheeks were flushed, and his head was thrown back against the headrest of the couch, eyes closed, breathing hard.

She licked his tip, and his eyes fluttered open, gazing down at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said smugly. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you over all the noise you were making.”

“You fucking tease,” he choked out, hips jerking forward. “God, your mouth should be illegal.”

And then—his words turned into broken moans as she took him back into her mouth—humming around him, the vibrations sending shivers up his thighs. He was moaning now—loud and breathless—and she felt a heady rush of pleasure.  Her panties were soaked, and her clit was throbbing. She wanted to touch herself, to finish the job that Jack had started—but she didn’t. She took him deep, swallowing around him. Her jaw ached, and her eyes stung. Drool and precum dripped down her chin, and it stained Jack’s balls from how hard she was swallowing around him, milking him.

She could tell he was getting close. His thighs were tensing, and his hips were stuttering, and he kept moaning brokenly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Before he could cum—she pulled off.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked at her incredulously as she wiped her mouth.

“Why’d you stop?”

She smirked. “Don’t forget, I don’t like you, Jack. I only make boys cum that I’m into.”

Jack stared at her a moment longer—chest heaving, breathing hard—and then, in a flash, he was pushing her back down onto the floor. She fell against the carpet, and he was on her. Between her legs, kissing her. Rough and hard and angry.

“I don’t fucking like you either, princess,” he snapped. “But I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget your own name.” He pushed down her shorts and licked a stripe up her slit. She shuddered, hands flying to his hair. He laughed against her. “And you’re going to take it baby. All of it.”

His tongue found her clit, swirling around the bud in a way that made her toes curl. His fingers slid back inside her—pumping in and out as his tongue teased. Her hips bucked, and he grabbed her waist, pinning her to the ground as he worked.

Her eyes rolled back, and she moaned, shaking and arching against him. “Jack, oh my god—”

Jack smirked against her and mockingly said, “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making.” She glared at him, but the look was ruined by another moan. He laughed and then sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers curling inside her. She cried out, gasping, moaning, choking on her own noises as he drove her higher and higher.

“Jack,” she begged. “Please—”

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until she came—hard—back arching, hands fisting in his hair, toes curling.

And then, just as she was coming down, he crawled up her body—kissing her slowly. She could taste herself on his lips, and she moaned softly as his cock dragged against her inner thigh. She felt him smile against her mouth.

“Good, princess?” he murmured.

“So good,” she breathed.

His cock rubbed against her clit, still too sensitive from her orgasm, and she gasped, hips jerking. He hissed, hands gripping her waist.

“Shit,” he choked out. “Do you want me to—”

He gestured between them, and she nodded quickly. She needed him. She needed him now.

“Fuck,” Jack groaned. “I don’t have a condom. Do you—”

“I’m clean,” she said quickly. “I’m on the pill. Please. Please, please, please.”

He broke off with a ragged moan as she slid the tip of his cock inside her. “Fuck—fuck, Y/N. Do you want me to—” His voice was breathless, his hips stuttering.

“Yes,” she whispered, nails digging into his shoulders. “I want you. All of you. Please, Jack—”

Jack didn’t need any more convincing. And then—he thrust inside her. All the way to the hilt.

She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Jack whispered. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. So tight. How are you this tight, baby?”

She moaned, her hips moving restlessly. “Move. Please, Jack, move—”

And he did.

His hips snapped against hers, and she arched beneath him—meeting him thrust for thrust. His mouth found her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth—and then his hand was between them, thumb against her clit.

“God,” she choked out. “That’s so good. Jack, please don’t stop.”

He moaned against her breast, biting at her nipple, and she cried out, her back arching off the floor.

“Faster,” she gasped. “Harder.”

His mouth was relentless against her breasts, his cock driving into her over and over, and she could feel her second orgasm building. Her toes were curling, and her thighs were shaking, and she was moaning. So loud. So breathless. Begging, pleading, her voice cracking.

Her nails dug into him. He was big, and she was sensitive, and it felt so fucking good.

“God,” he moaned, voice ragged. “Fuck. You feel so good. You’re so tight.” He thrust again, and she cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist as he fucked her. Slow, long thrusts that hit somewhere deep inside her. “You feel perfect,” he groaned.

“So do you,” she gasped. “You’re so—ah. So—fuck—”

He kissed her again—rough and hard. His thrusts sped up—hitting hard and fast and deep. She raked her nails down his back, and he moaned her name.

“Jack,” she choked out. “Jack, please—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. All she could do was moan his name again, over and over.

“Shit,” Jack’s voice cracked. “Shit, you feel so good, Y/N. You’re taking me so well.”

She moaned, arching against him, nails leaving red marks down his skin as she clung to him.

His strokes were hard and fast and brutal—and his thumb was relentless on her clit. She felt herself barreling towards the edge again, felt herself getting closer and closer and—“Jack, I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he snapped.

She whined, her hands gripping his hair. “Please,” she gasped. “Please, I need to—”

“No,” he said, and his voice was rough. “Not yet. Not until I tell you to.”

She groaned in frustration, but she did as he said. She held back. Her thighs were shaking, and her body was trembling, and she was so close—so so close—but she held back. And Jack watched her the entire time, his eyes dark and intense as he fucked her and toyed with her and worked her back to the edge again and again and again. Until her moans turned into sobs, until she was begging him. “Jack. Jack, please, baby, please—let me come. Please. I need to come. Jack. JackJackJackJackJack—”

He grabbed her face—forcing her to look at him.

“Yeah. Say my name,” he demanded. “Say it, Y/N.”

And she was so far gone—so close to the edge that she would’ve done anything.

“Jack,” she moaned. “Oh god, Jack—I need you. Please—I need—”

He moaned against her breast, biting at her nipple, and she cried out, her back arching off the floor.

“Faster,” she gasped. “Harder.”

He was relentless against her clit, his cock driving into her over and over, and she could feel her second orgasm building. Her toes were curling, and her hips were shaking, and she was moaning. So loud. So breathless. Begging, pleading, her voice cracking.

Jack’s breath was hot against her ear. “Come for me, princess. Come for me like a good girl.”

And then she was gone. Shaking. Convulsing. Gasping. Her nails cut into his back, and she heard Jack cry out. He fucked her through it—pumping into her, his thumb never stopping against her clit until she was pushing at his shoulders.

 Too sensitive. Too much.

“Jack,” she gasped.

His thumb moved to her inner thigh, stroking softly as he kept moving inside her. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured. “I know you can.”

And then, her world exploded. His hand moved her leg higher, on his hip, and his cock hit that spot inside her that had her seeing stars.

She clenched around him, trying to grab at anything she could to stabilize herself. Her hands found the carpet, gripping the fabric beneath her head.

Fuck, she hated Jack Hughes. But god, could he fuck.

She was still shaking, still gasping for breath, when Jack noticed her breath hitch every time his cock brushed against that spot.

And he aimed for it. Every stroke. Every thrust. His strokes were hard. Deep. Relentless. He was murmuring things against her neck—dirty things, hot things.

“Yeah?” Jack’s voice was dark, his thrust slowing. “Feel me right there, princess? The guy you fucking hate so much rearranging your fucking guts.”

She nodded, her head too fuzzy to even form words.

“Aw,” Jack murmured, nipping at her jaw. “Now look at you. Too fucked out to even speak. Might have to keep you like this.”

And then—he started thrusting again—hard and fast and deep—and she was choking out broken moans, her body jerking beneath his. She was oversensitive. She was still trying to come down from her second orgasm, and he wasn’t letting her. He kept driving into her, and she kept moaning.

“Jack,” she rasped. “JackJackJack—” and her fingers were curling against the plush carpet, her nails digging into the fabric. She was going to rip a hole in the fucking floor at this rate.

“Fuck,” Jack snapped. “You take my cock so well, baby. So fucking well.”

He drove into her again—and again—and again, and she felt her third orgasm barreling down on her. And then, he reached up and grabbed her breast.

His fingers pinched her nipple, twisting and pulling, and she exploded. Gasping and convulsing and shivering as her orgasm tore through her like lightning.

“Fuck, yes baby,” Jack snapped, his thrusts getting erratic as she clenched around him. “Just like that. God, you’re so good.”

She was moaning—over and over—her nails digging into his back as he drove into her. Her orgasm felt like it was never ending, her synapsis constantly firing. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice harsh and breathless.

And she did. She looked at him, her eyes locking with his as he took her. Hard. Fast. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on.

His mouth was open, breathing hard, and he let out a soft moan, his forehead falling against hers.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m not—fuck—I’m not going to last.” His hips snapped against hers, his fingers finding her clit again. “You feel too good.”

His breath was coming out in short pants, and his rhythm was starting to stutter. She knew he was close.

“Come in me,” she moaned.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he choked out. His eyes were so dark, burning into her.

“Please,” she begged, voice breathless and broken. “Please Jack, come in me. I want to feel you—”

He rubbed her clit, his strokes hard and fast, and she choked out a moan, her eyes rolling back. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Fuck,” Jack’s hips were shaking now, his thrusts turning erratic as he lost control. He snapped his hips against hers, his breaths coming out in short gasps. “Touch yourself,” he demanded.

She did as she was told. Her fingers worked her clit as he took her, and she felt herself get closer and closer for the fourth time that night.

“Wait,” she gasped out. “Wait, I—”

“Shh baby,” Jack murmured. He stroked her cheek, kissing her slowly. “You’re okay. You’re doing so good, Y/N, fuck—you’re taking me so well.” He kissed her again, his lips soft against hers. “Just focus on me, princess. Focus on my cock.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded, her fingers working her clit. Her body was shaking. Trembling. Her breath was coming out in soft gasps, and Jack kept murmuring things to her—filthy things. Things that would’ve made her blush if she’d been able to focus.

“Jack,” she choked out.

“I know,” he breathed. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

Except this time she felt funny, this didn't feel like her previous orgasms. No. This time she felt like she was going to pass out. She was so lost in Jack and the pleasure he was giving her that she didn't even realize her vision was fading.

Her eyes were rolling back, and her body felt like it was floating. Her head felt all fuzzy, and everything felt so sensitive and so good but she couldn't tell what was what anymore. Her mind was spinning, and she could barely string a thought together, let alone remember to breathe.

He reached down and grabbed her throat—herpulse thundering underneath his hold. Hard. And she cried out, her orgasm hitting her like a punch to the gut. Her eyes rolled back, and her vision went white. She felt like she was floating—felt like her body was spasming beneath him, felt like he was still pounding into her but she couldn’t be sure because she couldn’t focus, she couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t do anything except feel. Pure pleasure, ripping through her over and over like waves crashing against her. 

She had just squirted. 

The first time she squirts is by the guy she despises. Jack groans at the sight and feels himself lose any and all control he had to hold off his own impending orgasm. He shouts as he cums, filling her with warm deep spurts. He keeps cumming and cumming, and she keeps spasming, gasping and moaning as she took all of him. 

His hips slowed, and he pulled out, watching as his cum dripped down her thighs, mixing with her own juices. His fingers reached down, rubbing the mess, and then, he pushed his cum back inside her, smirking as her eyes rolled back. He kept doing it over and over until she was begging, pleading with him.

Pushing his hand away, her body oversensitive and her mind reeling from the fucking no pounding he had just given her. "Hmm made you squirt too, guess your body loves me princess." he smirks. 

 Y/N's vision clears, and she glares at him.

“Don’t call me princess,” she snapped.

His smirk turned into a full grin. “Aw, you ruined it. I like calling you princess.”

“And I told you not to.”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “You did.”

“I can’t move.” Y/N whined.

“That’s how you know you had good sex, baby.” Jack grins.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" she groaned back.

He shrugged. “You know what the solution to that is?”

“No, what?” She rolled her eyes, playing along.

He gestured to her. “Your pussy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolled her eyes again.

“Did. Just did.” He smirks down at her, “You loved it. Don’t lie.” His face softened, “It was good though right? You, um, you enjoyed yourself?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He grinned, “I enjoyed myself too. Like a lot. I think I might need to go again.” He wiggled his eyebrows, “How about you?”