#featuring: bree

[hannahwatcheshorror]

LISA FRANKENSTEIN (2024)

A cute and gothic movie set in the 80’s. Lots of zombie fun from Cole Sprouse and Scream Queen antics from Kathryn Newton. A good couples watch but could be fun on your own I’m sure. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Trigger Warning Sexual Assault, Genital Mutilation

Our movie begins with our fish out of water, Lisa Swallows, who just doesn’t seem to fit in. (It is important to note that Lisa’s mom was murdered in front of her at one point) Her step sister, Taffy, tries to help her fit in but it is a hard sell (because of that pesky mom thing). The girls go to a party and to try and impress a boy she likes, Lisa takes drugs. While under the influence someone she thought she could trust takes advantage of her which was way not cool. Lisa escapes through the woods and reaches her comfort cemetery in the middle of the woods where her favorite grave is and she wishes she could be with her beloved, well, be careful what you wish for because the next night our not so handsome bachelor comes up from out of the ground and tries to make nice with Lisa! Ah! At first she is very afraid, but then The Creature is very nice to her so she chills out and helps him out too, allowing him to shower which makes a big difference. She also dresses him in hip men's clothing she just happens to have lying around. Cool!

We come to our first major problem, which is Lisa’s stepmom, who is really unkind to Lisa, she threatens to put Lisa in what is basically an insane asylum and our Cole Sprouse zombie creature does not like that so he smashes her over the head and then he steals her ear for himself! Turns out he can source body parts from the freshly dead as long as he gets a nice electric shock afterwards and Lisa knows just the way to deliver one, her step sister's tanning bed that nearly electrocuted her! After a little shock, his ear is working and he is looking more lively (and acting more so). It isn’t long before her zombie friend encourages her to dress better, so that Lisa is feeling herself and then she gets the boy from school who assaulted her and takes his hand (and then they murder him, of course) but now Cole has two hands! And he used to be a pianist so now he can play and it is wonderful!

There is a little musical interlude before there is a little bit of a struggle because, “oh no, they might have found out the mom is missing,” but they are trying to keep that from stressing them out until the police at school looking for the missing kid really harsh their mellow. Lisa realizes it is time to be bold, she is going to sleep with her crush! She goes to his house and who is already in bed with him but her own step sister! Betrayal! Zombie Cole Sprouse comes in and chops the dudes dick off then takes off with it. Turns out our creature friend was missing a bit of the male anatomy that he had just so happened to take off of Lisa's crush. She realizes her true love has been her doting zombie this whole time, sews the dick on him (after saying he doesn’t need one to fuck her (damn right)) and then they make love! Amazing! But there isn’t much time before the police are closing in so Lisa goes into the tanning bed to die.

The movie ends with Taffy and her stepfather visiting Lisa’s grave, sad. But before we hit the credits we see our zombie friend reading poetry to a new female zombie who just so happens to be his lady love back from the dead. Love transcending death. (Also they got married with peach rings which was very cute, the end)

----------------------HANNAH WATCHES HORROR---------------------

[familiarartistname]

Im still trying to get more ideas for my ena sona and I'm trying to not bully myself when looking for a palette because I keep telling myself bs like "ooh using green for the clothing how original" and shit sighhhhhhh

[deliciousmicroplastics]

Tumblr can you get real cool and welcoming for Black nerds pls

[rohirric-hunter]

Imagine my shock when I found out I had completely missed a Nazgul event because of this

[witchblade]

the only song that's making it into the album playlist is soft unlocked.... #perfectlyfine

[colorisbyshe]

hi! do you have any opinions on lady gaga's music? i love hearing your thoughts abt music

sorry for getting to this a week late ngl i just forgot i saw it

but i like a lot of gaga's discography! i'll be completely honest, i haven't followed her that closely but fame monster was one of my favorite albums and probably remains top... 25 albums of all time for me. i do think i enjoy her earlier works ut again... i'm saying this as someone who hasn't followed her that closely, so maybe i'm missing her later gems

that said i don't particular like her as a person

but i will give her props for trying to show off bree runway by featuring her on the babylon remix. more people need to feature bree and show her the fuck off!!!

[graphicpolicy]

The Firelight Apprentice is a fantastic and magical fantasy graphic novel for kids and adults alike

The Firelight Apprentice is a fantastic and magical fantasy graphic novel for kids and adults alike #comics #graphicnovel #ncbd

In a city powered by magic and still recovering from a bloody war, Ada is concerned about her younger sister Safi’s developing powers. She understands that Safi could learn how to control her magic under the apprenticeship of a king’s magician. But with the memories of war still fresh, Ada is conflicted by this prospect—despite her knowing that she can’t keep Safi safely at home with the threat…

[mattsweethrt]

「 cockwarming chris on stream ᵎᵎ 」

smut, slight exhibitionism, pet names

“right there! right there! chris behind you!” matt’s voice was loud through chris’ headset, his gaze focused on the computer monitor in front of him. the soft blue glow of the screen cast a cool light over chris’ sharp facial features, his focused expression making your panties pool with anticipation.

you slowly sauntered over to chris from his bed, standing behind him as you ducked your head down to be in frame of the stream, the chat immediately lighting up upon your arrival.

“hi baby,” chris muttered up at you, giving you a warm smile before turning back to the game, “we’re streaming duos, wanna come watch?”

you nodded, plopping yourself down onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his embrace. his arms stayed put on your waist, his grip on firm while he continued his game.

with each jerk and sudden movement, you began to grow more and more desperate until you couldn’t take it anymore. chris wasn’t doing too well either, you on his lap in your little pajama set causing his dick to strain against his sweats.

after a couple more minutes of playing, chris was sniped, leaving matt to finish out the round himself.

“chat i’m going to the bathroom, i’ll be back,” chris announced to the stream, turning off his mic and camera before burying his face into your neck, mouthing at the exposed skin.

“wan’ you so bad right now baby,” he mumbled as he pressed kisses to the crevices of where your neck and shoulder met.

you hummed in response, tilting your head to allow better access. “i want you too,” you sighed softly.

“here,” he grumbled, lifting you up and shimmying your shorts down, leaving you in your soaked panties, “come sit.”

he was quick to free himself of his sweats and boxers, his dick springing, his tip red and leaking. you nodded as he moved your panties to the side, guiding you to sink down on his cock, your gummy walls squeezing around his length.

he switched the camera and microphone back on, his demeanor doing a complete turn as he returned back to his game, acting as if he dick wasn’t inside of you with twenty thousand people watching.

you watched some more as chris and matt played round after round, any movement of your hips against his driving you both crazy. you kept trying to motion to chris to get off the game and do something, but he continued his game like no big deal.

after one particular round was over, you were practically grinding down on his cock, desperate for any sort of relief.

“baby,” he whispered into your ear, “sit and be a good girl, i’ll take care of you later, ‘kay?”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ need this soo bad.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Jamie and Claire are in the painting featured in the title card of 7x15 "Written In My Own Heart's Blood."

Where we see Frank showing wee Bree the painting at a museum.

Whoever had this idea - my hat's off to you!

[stvrnioloslvt-inactive]

matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. he tossed his glasses aside, groaning as he felt a headache creep in slowly. he was just so stressed. and so in need to be by your side.

he pushed himself up from his desk, walking towards the kitchen counter where he found you, you too immersed in your work. he stayed by the door for a couple of seconds, admiring your soft features, head low on your books as you didn't hear him yet.

finally, he took a couple steps closer to you, embracing you in his arms. you jumped a little, taken back by the sudden presence in the room with you, relaxing against your boyfriend's front once you realised who it was.

"baby," he whined in your ear, dropping his head in the crease between your neck and shoulder, "-need you."

"what's wrong, baby?" you asked, reaching back to caress his soft hair. matt whined again, hugging you closer to his body.

"'m so stressed," he murmured, slurring his words as he spoke, "can i have a kiss?"

you smiled softly, turning so that you could press your lips to his cheek.

"as many as you want, sweet boy."

© stvrnioloslvt

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

a little blurb written in a couple of minutes, I definitely need to improve my writing skills.

love, bree ☾

taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn 🤍

[bookishsongs]

Hey, everyone! Our Legendborn-inspired EP LEGACY is officially streaming everywhere! It features 5 original songs inspired by Bree and the Legendborn world. We hope you dig it! Find it by searching "Legacy - Bookish Songs Collective" on your preferred service ⚔️

album art by the amazing @mageofspace924

[breelandwalker]

Hey if anybody wants witchy books or powders or charm or spell kits....

My car's AC stopped working. In June. In Virginia. Again. (she's almost 20, it's not her fault) And I have to take kitties to an annual checkup next month.

So. Any proceeds from shop orders are likely going to fixing the car and making sure Havoc and Penny are healthy.

I just restocked a bunch of things and I'm planning more restocks over the weekend. You can use code BRAMBLES for 20% off the new and featured items for the month of June.

(Also if anybody has their own shop and would like to carry my books, I do offer them wholesale!)

Thank you!!!!

[hexpositive]

Hex Positive, Ep. 053 - Creating Your Own Runes

Now available on the Nerd & Tie Podcast Network and wherever fine podcasts are heard!

On the heels of last month’s discussion about astrology and forecasting, Bree introduces a fun and easy project for building your craft and honing your divination skills - creating your own personalized set of runes.

Stay safe and Happy Witching!

Cited Title: The Real Witches’ Book of Spells & Rituals, Kate West, Llewellyn Publications, 2003.

Visit the Willow Wings Witch Shop on Shopify and check out this month’s featured items and Upcoming Events. Make sure you also visit the Redbubble page for even more cool merch!

Upcoming Events:

The Witches Table Discussion Group: Williamsburg Chapter Workshop - Creating Your Own Plant Correspondences Wednesday, March 5 2025, 6pm-8pm Alewerks Taproom (Williamsburg Outlets) 5715 Richmond Rd, Williamsburg VA (USA) Hosted by The Witches Table

First Fridays Moon Market (First Friday of each month) Next Event - Friday, Feb 7 2025, 6pm-9pm Upcoming Dates - March 7 | April 4 | May 2 Historic Hilton Village 10369 Warwick Blvd, Newport News VA (USA) Hosted by Styx & Stones

Sisterhood Market benefitting the Pink Boots Society Sunday, March 9 2025, 12pm-4pm Alewerks Taproom 189 B Ewell Rd, Williamsburg VA Hosted by Alewerks Brewing

Cottage Witch Market Sunday, March 23 2025, 12pm-5pm Diversity Richmond 1407 Sherwood Ave, Richmond VA (USA) Hosted by River City Witch Markets

Check my ⁠⁠Wordpress⁠⁠ for full show notes, as well as show notes for past episodes and information on upcoming events. You can find me as @BreeNicGarran on Instagram and WordPress, or as @breelandwalker on tumblr. For more information on how to support the show and get access to early releases and extra content, visit my ⁠⁠Patreon⁠⁠.

Proud member of the ⁠⁠Nerd and Tie Podcast Network⁠⁠

MUSIC CREDITS

Intro & Outro – “Spellbound” & “Miri’s Magic Dance” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

[vee-vee-writes]

Bilbo's Little Sapling (Company x Bilbo's daughter!reader)

Request by @that-teen2003: "Reader (adult) is bilbos daughter (yes biological) readers mother and bilbo had a one night stand and reader was given to bilbo. When the company arrived to bilbos they all take notice of some things not really meant for a hobbit hole, but they don’t question bilbo. Once everyone is there they bring up how bilbo will help them, but he says no because he has his baby girl to look after. The company along with Gandalf and shocked, bilbo goes on and says his little sapling cant be alone. They all here this and slightly back off, but still persistent, but image there shock when his daughter walks through the door, taller then Gandalf and bloody from the deer she hunted. She ends up joining her father one the quest, but not without a few of the dwarfs flirting with her along the way, as well as them finding out how scary a father hobbit can be when it comes to his daughter."

Notes: I really hope you like it! I intend to write a part two to fit the last bit of your request about protective dad Bilbo :)

Read Bilbo's daughter POV

The rolling hills and greens of the Shire were nothing like this company of dwarves were used to. Here the folk seemed gentle, as if hardship and horror had never tainted a single day of their lives, and only somewhat weary to strangers. Each home built gently into the green hills and rich earth of the Shire, small well-kept gardens framing their doorways. However, one hobbit hole stood out as a stark contrast to the rest.

Bag End had all the notable features of a luxurious hobbit hole. Framed with plush greens and scatterings of blooming flowers, a large front lawn, and a twine woven fence, it was a peaceful sight that any respectable hobbit would be jealous of. However, each dwarf who trekked up the small dirt stairs noted some oddities. The most notable was the large axe propped up in the entrance way. It was far to big for the average hobbit and was most certainly not of dwarven craft. No, it had to belong to a human but what it was doing there was a mystery. By all accounts the race of man did not live in the Shire, with Bree being the closest settlement.

Yet each shrugged it off, as long as Gandalf or the hobbit hadn’t invited any unwanted guests then there was no reason to think to deeply upon it. Still, one could not help but spot similar oddities throughout the home as they made themselves comfortable. The abnormally big armchair, fine china sets that could feed two hobbits at a time, and the pair of boots that Bofur had stumbled over when he’d entered. What hobbit wore shoes?

Nevertheless, they kept their opinions to themselves after finding Bilbo to be the only occupant. Feasting, drinking, belching, and merriment ensued as the dwarven band dined in a luxury they were seldom afforded. While the arrival of Thorin certainly had muted the celebrations considerably, excitement still ran high at the prospect of beginning the journey for the reclamation of their home.

The refusal of the hobbit to join their adventure had not been unexpected either. Gandalf had warned them that Bilbo may be hesitant to join them at first but would ultimately change his mind. What no one had expected was the revelation that Bilbo had a daughter, a seemingly young one at that.

“What why on earth would I join as a burglar, I’ve never stolen a thing in my life! Besides, I have my own young sapling to look after, she can hardly be left here to fend for herself, and I certainly won’t risk her on some journey to the ends of Middle Earth to fight a dragon. I’m sorry but no, I won’t do it” Bilbo had dramatically exclaimed. Murmurs of disappointed agreement had met his declaration., the road was no place for a youngling.

Bilbo had long since retired to his private room, the excitement of his uninvited visitors having worn him ragged. The company had made themselves comfortable in one of Bilbo’s sitting rooms, repurposing couches and armchairs for makeshift beds. It was as they began to bunk down for the night that the fright of their life had come.

As the hour of the gods struck a thundering sound breached the tranquility of Bag End, shaking the walls around them. Immediately each of the dwarves had sat up in alarm. It was unlikely an orc raiding party had strayed this far, even if they had somehow caught the scent of dwarf, but one could never be too sure. Through the doorway a faint light could be seen growing closer, a single set of heavy footsteps accompanying it. There was no doubt that each dwarf was cursing having stripped of sword, mace and bow at the door.

A lone looming figure suddenly appeared in the door, the soft light of the single candle it carried doing little to light up its features. Yet even though the shadows obscured the persons finer details, one thing was for certain. This figure was no hobbit, height alone gave it away. Gandalf was tall by human standards, but this figure may have given even him a run for his money. Daring to move, Dori had struck a match and begun lighting the nearest oil lamp with shaking hands.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home” the stranger shrieked, “where is my father? What have you done to him? You’d better answer me now!” By now the oil lamp had chased away some of the shadows and the intruders face could be seen. Despite the tall stature of the woman before them, indicating human or elvish parentage, obvious hobbit-like features could be picked out. There was no doubt, you had to be Bilbo’s daughter, but you were certainly no sapling.

“I…we were invited here by a wizard, Gandalf the Grey, to meet with the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. Might I…that is to say...why are you covered in blood” Ori had stuttered out, the first of the stunned troop to find his voice. “I see, and where might my father be?” the woman answered ignoring Ori’s question. “Recovering from the shock of this evening’s news and festivities in his quarters no doubt” Bofur answered, having gathered his wits. Before the woman could answer him Thorin had interrupted. “You never answered the question, who’s blood is that and who are you” he demanded, rising to his feet.

The commotion had roused both Gandalf and Bilbo both of whom appeared in a flustered hurry behind the mystery woman. Seeming unsurprised by the scene both had relaxed somewhat upon seeing her, though Bilbo still glanced wearily at the dwarves. “For gods sakes you could at least try to clean up after coming back from hunting. Honestly, anyone would think that I hadn’t raised you to be a respectable hobbit, (Y/N)!” Bilbo exclaimed throwing his hands up in annoyance, “where’d you leave it this time. It better not be on my rug, you know how old it is. A family heirloom.”

“I left it on the doorstep once I saw all of their gear” (Y/N) jabbed a finger in the company’s direction, “I didn’t know you were expecting company, I was worried when I first saw it all. I thought some ragtag band of robbers had broken into Bag End.” Bilbo took in a deep exasperated breath, rolling his eyes at his daughters antics. “And what you thought you would come in and play the hero? Honestly what were you thinking? I know you like to hunt, even though I’d rather you not, but you’re not exactly a trained soldier are you” Bilbo snapped back. The company watched in amusement, all tension having melted away once it had become certain who the mystery woman was. If the hobbit and his daughter were to actually join them there was no doubt it would at least provide a bit of entertainment.

[thecordelialetters]

The Bionic and the Ballerina Pt.3

wc:1,132

Chase Davenport x fem!reader

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Thankfully the week had passed and with the help of Chase, you were able to ace your history test.

Your friendship with Bree was going smoothly. When you had time the two of you would gossip about others, talk about boys, or the latest episode of Vampire Diaries. Your Saturday morning was bleak, your older brother who had become your guardian, was covering a coworker's shift, leaving you alone in the tiny apartment you shared. A heavy sigh left your lips as you sipped on a cup of jasmine tea. Buzz buzz...

Your phone screen lit up with a picture of Chase. His contact image was a photo of the two of you during lunch when you had accidentally matched colors. His smile matched yours as both of you faced the camera. Seeing his arm around you in the photo brought a familiar heat to your core. The message read, "Tasha and Davenport are heading out, want to come over?" Excitedly you changed out of your pajamas leaving the house in a pink skirt and white blouse. With no time to do your hair, you clipped it up leaving a few strands in your face.

Chase jolted at the sound of the doorbell and hurried to open it. The moment his eyes fell on you, a breath caught in his throat. You looked... different—your hair swept up, framing your face in a way that softened your features, lending you an air of delicate elegance.

As you stepped past him and into the room, his gaze dropped to your blouse. Resting just above your chest, a gold, heart-shaped locket gleamed, rising and falling with the subtle rhythm of your breath. The gentle rise and fall seemed to command his attention, while the sweet fragrance of your perfume wrapped around him, dizzying in its allure.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping him in a hushed, almost reverent tone, as though the sight of you demanded nothing less.

You took a seat on the couch as Davenport and Tasha came in carrying their luggage. "This is so exciting! I've never been to Australia before!" You stood back up to greet them, "You're going to love it! The hiking and beaches are to die for." Another voice from the door spoke up, "Maybe you'll like it so much you won't come back!"

Tasha rolled her eyes at the AI before continuing, "Honey do you have the plane tickets?" "Plane tickets? We are taking my fully automated private jet." He grinned. You poked Chase's side, "Oh lala fancy."

"Leo this is your chance to prove you're responsible enough to stay home without us." Leo looked baffled and pointed to the siblings, "me what about them?"

Davenport looked at you cautiously, "They're responsible enough...you on the other hand were designed to break things." He eyed Leo down. Leo pushed the couple out the door, "Don't worry it'll be fine enjoy your trip!"

The minute they left Adam and Bree shouted "Woo party!" and left to do their own plans, leaving you and Chase...and Leo. Chase side-eyed Leo as if saying, "How about you beat it so I can hang out with the girl I like." It appeared Leo wasn't as receptive and stayed in place. The three of you sat on the couch in painful silence before Leo decided to get up and play with his toys/action figures, leaving you, Chase, and a large gap between the two. You turned to Chase, "I know you and your family are coming to see my show next week, but would you like to see what I've been practicing so far?" He nodded eagerly. You stood up and played the music for your solo on your phone. Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out. In. Out.

Ballet was more than movement; it was your escape, your body bending and stretching in ways that felt both impossible and freeing, guided not by thought but by the rhythm that pulsed through the music. The Rose Adagio—your long-awaited solo—was your moment to demonstrate the intimate conversation between body and melody.

Chase’s gaze never wavered. Every spin, every leap you made seemed to pull him deeper into your world, as if he, too, was part of the dance. His eyes followed you with an intensity that felt like a silent partner, mirroring your every step. Each graceful leap was weightless, landing so softly it was as if the air itself caught you. As the music swelled, you moved with a passionate fluidity, your skirt sweeping through the air like petals caught in a gentle breeze. The symphony crescendoed, and even from across the room, you could feel him sway with the rising tide of emotion in your dance as if the music had tethered him to you.

You stopped breathing slightly harder, "Well um...what did you think?" nervously shuffling your hands together. Chase snapped out of his reverie and took one step before playing his arms around your lefts and lifting you up, spinning you around. "That was the most amazing dance I've ever seen, the way you move was like a swan descending into the water, it was like... it was like the feeling of the first autumn breeze." He rambled on with many beautiful comparisons but you were too busy staring into his eyes. Overcome with happiness, you grabbed his face and softly planted your lips on his.

Chase paused before leaning in, one hand on your waist the other holding your jaw. This was no kiss of lust but one of appreciation for each other. His heart thumped against his chest, deeper and deeper.

The smell of his natural cologne invaded your senses, his lips pressed against yours, your noses brushing up occasionally. Your hand grabbed his hard muscle the other lightly resting on his stomach. You sunk in his embrace, letting his lips brush against yours before interlocking again. Your hand moved up and down his waist feeling the heat of his skin. Your thumb mindlessly toying with his waistband. The two of you broke apart immediately letting the forgotten air fill your lungs. The phantom feeling of the kiss lingered as you took sight of his flushed face.

"I love you." He blurted out.

Your eyes widened. He stammered, "I mean no I don't, I mean I like you but we also just met, and I love you?" You stepped back, "I'm sorry Chase look I really like you but..." You stopped not knowing what to say back. It wasn't that you DIDN'T love him, but rather you didn't know what love was. This wasn't your first rodeo with a boy, but your previous relationship was nothing like this one. The first boy you ever "went out" with was immature and only liked you for your body. Rather than waiting for you to finish, Chase turned around and ran. You stood there not knowing what to do. It would be weird to run after him in his own house. You packed up your stuff and left, you'd try to talk to him tomorrow.

Taglist: @mel-vaz

[twistedheartsclub]

His Favorite Mistake- Yandere Ex Male X Female Reader

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING — This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, cheating, toxic relationships, possessive obsession, and psychological tension. Features morally gray characters, jealousy, non-graphic sexual scenes, and blurred lines between love, lust, and revenge. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

She begged him once. He left. Now she smiles when he burns.

Aisle Seven

Y/N hadn’t expected to see him again.

Certainly not in the middle of the grocery store, under warm fluorescent lights and soft pop music, while she reached for fresh thyme.

But there he was.

Him.

The man she once loved with every aching part of her.

The man who broke her.

He was pushing a cart. Laughing. A woman clung to his arm—pregnant, glowing, unaware.

Y/N froze.

She could’ve turned. Walked away. Pretended she hadn’t seen him.

But it was too late.

“Y/N?”

His voice hadn’t changed. That effortless charm. That smile she used to melt for.

“Wow, it’s been a while.”

She didn’t speak right away. Just… looked at him.

At the woman.

At her hand on his arm.

At the small swell of her belly.

She blinked once. Then smiled—perfectly.

She looked stunning. A tight sundress hugging her curves, wedges lifting her calves just right, her makeup soft and glowing. In her basket sat fresh herbs, red wine, pasta, garlic—his favorite. The recipe she used to make when he was hers.

“Hi,” she said sweetly, voice smooth as silk.

Something shifted in his expression.

She looks good. Better than I remember.

Who’s she making dinner for?

The woman beside him adjusted her bag. Nervous. Unsure.

“Hi, I’m Elle,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m his fiancée.”

Y/N smiled even wider. Shook her hand gently.

“Lovely to meet you.”

She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t linger.

“I’m in a bit of a rush. Hope you both have a beautiful day.”

And just like that, she walked away.

But not before catching the flicker in his eyes.

He watched her go.

Like a man who just realized he lost something he should’ve held onto with both hands.

Y/N’s Apartment — 7:42 PM

The apartment smelled like garlic, white wine, and basil.

Y/N stirred the pasta with one hand and scrolled on her phone with the other while her best friends lounged at the kitchen island, sipping rosé and nibbling cheese.

“You’re so domestic lately,” Maris teased, stealing a tomato off the cutting board.

“Yeah,” said Bree. “Like, scary domestic. You’re making fresh pasta now? Who are you feeding like this?”

Y/N smirked and shrugged. “I just wanted comfort food.”

She didn’t say his name.

Not yet.

But it slipped out during dinner. Between bites of the creamy sauce he once moaned over, she said it—

“I saw him today.”

Both girls stopped mid-chew.

“Wait. Him him?” Bree asked.

“Matt?” Maris blinked. “Your Matt?”

Y/N nodded, sipping her wine. Her voice was casual. But her grip on the glass was a little too tight.

“Market aisle seven. With a very pregnant fiancée.”

“Jesus,” Bree muttered. “What did he say?”

“Hi,” Y/N said sweetly. “He looked… surprised. I think I made his brain stop.”

They all laughed, but there was a quiet under it.

A hum of something bitter.

Matt’s Apartment — 8:05 PM

Dinner was plated in front of him.

He hadn’t touched it.

Elle smiled gently, rubbing her belly as she watched TV from the couch.

“Who was that girl earlier?” she asked. “You seemed weird after.”

Matt barely looked up. “No one.”

“She was really pretty.”

Silence.

Elle looked at him.

“Seriously, who was she?”

He exhaled. “Just someone I used to know.”

“Old friend?”

“…something like that.”

He pushed his food away and got up. Walked into the bedroom. Shut the door softly.

Then grabbed his phone.

He searched her name.

Clicked on her profile.

And froze.

Her latest post was from last night. A photo at her apartment—candles glowing, pasta plated beautifully, two friends laughing in the background.

She looked good.

Her lips were glossed. Her dress soft and short. Her eyes glowing in low light.

He stared at the caption.

"Girls’ night in 🍷✨ comfort food, comfort people."

Who’s she cooking for?

She never looked like that with me.

Is someone else touching her now?

Does she even think about me?

He saved the photo.

He didn’t know why.

But he couldn’t stop looking.

Matt hadn’t meant to check her page again.

But it was muscle memory now.

Y/N’s name.

Tap. Scroll. Watch.

The 4:05 a.m. selfie—face flushed, ponytail messy, captioned “beat the sun 🌅”.

The yoga video her friend reposted—tight black leggings, form perfect.

The pic from school—“My students made me cry today 🥹 #teacherlife”.

She was doing good.

No.

She was doing better.

And that made something sour coil in his gut.

He clicked her tagged photos next. Every brunch, every bookstore run, every glass of wine with her girls. He studied the background. The angles. Looking for a shadow of a man. A wrist. A second glass. Anything.

He didn’t find one.

But that didn’t calm him.

It infuriated him.

She cried for me.

She begged on her knees. Her voice shaking. Hands gripping my shirt like she’d die if I walked away.

And I did. I left.

The night before I left, I made love to her.

Slow. Deep. Her whispering “I love you” against his neck like a prayer.

He remembered the way her lip trembled when he said it was over.

How she broke.

And now?

Now she glowed.

Now she thrived.

And something in him… fractured.

He wasn’t sorry.

Not in the normal way.

He was angry.

Angry that she healed. That she smiled. That she lived in a world where he wasn’t necessary.

She was supposed to shatter without me.

Not become something more.

He closed the app.

Sat in silence.

And whispered to himself—

“She was mine.”

His fiancée called from the next room.

He didn’t answer.

He was already planning the next time he’d “accidentally” run into Y/N.

And next time?

He wouldn’t be smiling.

Y/N’s Apartment – 6:47 PM

She stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of her satin blouse, smoothing the hem of her skirt.

Her makeup was soft. Hair curled. A warm red lip she hadn’t worn in months.

Her friends buzzed around her, giggling, handing her a glass of wine she barely sipped.

“Come on, Y/N,” Bree said. “This guy is perfect. Handsome, steady job, no weird ex drama, wants marriage and a dog.”

“He’s seriously looking to settle down,” Maris added. “And he’s seen your photos. He asked us if you were single.”

Y/N laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s terrifying.”

“It’s called fate, babe.”

And so, at 7:30, she walked into the warm glow of the downtown restaurant. Candlelight. Leather booths. Glasses clinking.

And across the table—Luca.

Tall. Calm. Easy smile.

He asked her questions. Listened. Laughed at her jokes. Held the door open when she got chilly and offered his coat.

It felt… nice.

Easy.

Too easy.

And someone else—somewhere else—was watching.

Matt’s Condo – 8:06 PM

The second she posted the photo—just a plate of pasta, a glass of wine, the blurred edge of a candle—he knew.

She’s on a date.

He stared at the screen, heart thudding.

He refreshed her friend’s story.

There she was.

Laughing.

Her hand near a man’s wrist.

“Who the f*ck is that?”

His knuckles cracked as he gripped the phone.

He didn’t recognize the guy.

Didn’t care.

He paced his kitchen like a caged animal, every breath sharper than the last.

She’s dressed up.

She’s smiling at someone else.

She doesn’t look sad. Doesn’t look like she’s waiting for me.

She looks happy.

That’s what pushed him over.

That’s what made him snap.

He threw the wine glass against the far wall.

It shattered.

He stared at the shards.

“You little liar,” he whispered. “You said you’d always love me.”

Meanwhile — Y/N’s Doorstep – 10:42 PM

The date had ended with a soft goodbye. No kiss. Just a hug, a warm smile, and a “Let’s talk again soon.”

She was halfway through taking off her heels when her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

You looked beautiful tonight.

Her blood went cold.

Then another:

But you looked more beautiful crying on my floor.

She dropped her phone.

Her heart pounded.

Outside, a car sat idling at the curb.

Dark. Windows tinted.

She didn’t know it yet…

But Matt had already followed her home.

Y/N’s Apartment – Night Before

Her phone was face down on the kitchen table, untouched.

Her hands shook.

“He followed you home?” Maris whispered.

“Did he see you?” Bree asked, already pulling up a lock change service on her phone.

Y/N nodded, eyes glassy. “He texted me. Said I looked beautiful. And then—he reminded me of the night I broke down for him.”

The silence between them went heavy.

Maris wrapped her arms around her. Bree joined, warm and fierce.

“He doesn’t get to come back now,” Bree said. “He left. That was his choice.”

“You’re not that girl anymore,” Maris added gently. “Don’t let him make you one again.”

The Next Day – 10:12 AM — Bookstore

It was her safe place.

Always had been.

The scent of old pages, quiet piano music overhead, warm sunlight slanting through the windows. She took her time, trailing her fingers along the spines of novels, pretending everything was still okay.

Until she felt it.

That shift in the air.

That presence.

She turned—too late.

Matt was there.

Eyes dark. Hands in his pockets. Blocking the aisle.

“Y/N.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs. “Don’t do this.”

“I needed to see you.”

She stepped back, clutching her bag tighter. “You moved on. You said I love you once too. You burned the love I had for you.”

Her voice cracked.

“You had your chance. Go enjoy your perfect little family with Elle.”

He closed the space between them fast.

Too fast.

She hit the wall behind her with a soft gasp. His hand slammed beside her head. His other hand gripped her hip.

“I didn’t burn it,” he hissed. “You’re still burning.”

She flinched as his face came close—too close.

His eyes dropped to her lips. Her neck. Her dress.

“I still know this body. Every. Inch.”

“Let me go.”

But his hand didn’t move.

His thigh brushed hers.

His voice was low. Breath heavy. “You let him touch you? That soft little boy from your date?”

She shoved his chest.

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

He grabbed her wrists.

Pressed them against the wall.

And kissed her.

Hard. Possessive. Messy. Like he was starving.

She twisted beneath him—but somewhere in it… something broke.

And she kissed him back.

The pressure of his body. The fire in her stomach. Her fingers curling into his shirt. His groan vibrating against her lips.

It was familiar.

It was wrong.

But it felt so good.

When they pulled apart, they were both breathing like they’d run a mile.

Their eyes locked.

Neither of them said a word.

The air between them didn’t cool.

After that kiss—wild and burning—Y/N couldn’t breathe. Matt didn’t give her time to think. His hand was already gripping hers, tugging her toward the exit of the bookstore like he owned her path.

She should have pulled away.

She should have said no.

But her lips were still tingling. Her heart was still racing. And when he opened the passenger door of his sleek black car, she got in.

“This is a mistake,” she whispered as he pulled onto the road.

His hand slid over her thigh. Firm. Hot.

“Then tell me to stop.”

She couldn’t.

In the Car

The city lights passed by in a blur. Her breath hitched every time his thumb stroked soft circles on her bare skin, just beneath the hem of her dress.

“You’re shaking,” he said, glancing sideways.

“This is wrong,” she whispered. “You have a fiancée. A baby.”

“I only see you.”

His voice was low. Raw. Like something inside him had snapped and spilled out.

She swallowed hard.

But she didn’t move his hand.

Y/N’s Apartment — The Door Clicks Closed

The second it shut, her back hit it. His mouth was on hers again, rougher this time. Desperate. His hands roamed down her waist, under the curve of her dress.

She gasped as he lifted her, carrying her toward the bedroom like she weighed nothing.

Her hands gripped his arms—hard, sculpted, familiar. His scent was intoxicating, his mouth moving from her lips to her neck, biting and kissing down to her collarbone.

“I shouldn’t want this,” she breathed.

“But you do.”

What Follows Is Fire

Clothes hit the floor in flashes.

The way he touched her—like he’d never stopped knowing how. His mouth on her breasts, sucking hard, tongue circling until she cried out.

His hands on her thighs, spreading them wide.

Every thrust was punishment and worship.

She arched, her head thrown back, moaning his name like it was pulled from the deepest part of her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling as he groaned into her skin.

He didn’t stop.

Not when she whimpered.

Not when her body shook.

He took her again. And again. Until her voice cracked and her body melted against him.

After

They lay tangled in her sheets, skin sticky, hearts pounding.

He pressed soft kisses to her shoulder, his chest rising and falling behind her. One strong arm wrapped around her, his fingertips drawing slow circles into the curve of her arm.

“Why,” she whispered into the dark.

He didn’t answer at first.

Then—

“Because no one else gets to touch you like that.”

“You’re mine, Y/N. You always were.”

Matt’s House — 2:14 AM

He unlocked the door quietly.

Elle was asleep on the couch, one hand resting protectively on her belly, the TV still glowing in the background. A baby onesie ad flickered across the screen.

Matt stood there in the dark, still tasting Y/N on his lips.

His shirt smelled like her. His skin, her perfume. His thoughts? Only her.

He stared at Elle for a long time.

But he didn’t feel guilt.

He felt… annoyed.

She’s not Y/N.

She never was.

Sunday Morning — 9:42 AM

Y/N sat on a sunny patio, sipping coffee with Luca.

She wore a soft yellow blouse and a pair of delicate earrings. Her hair was tied up loose. The same fingers that gripped Matt’s shoulders the night before now toyed with a silver necklace as she smiled.

“You have a really cute laugh,” Luca said, eyes warm.

She laughed again, tipping her head.

“You’re just saying that because I ordered pancakes and a croissant.”

He chuckled. “I respect it.”

She leaned forward a little, her legs crossed, casually gorgeous.

Like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t moaned Matt’s name hours ago.

Like she wasn’t still sore from the way he devoured her.

But her smile?

It was real.

Because this was control.

Meanwhile — Matt’s POV

He was still lying in bed.

Staring at the ceiling.

Elle had asked if he wanted to go out for brunch. He said no.

He opened Instagram.

And there she was.

Y/N. At a café. Croissant. Pancakes. A man’s arm in the corner of the frame. Her smile wide.

His jaw clenched.

She doesn’t look wrecked.

She doesn’t even look like she’s thinking about me.

He locked his phone.

And threw it

Sunday Morning — Café Jardin, 10:06 AM

The sun filtered through the patio umbrella, casting soft shadows over Y/N’s table. Her coffee was still hot. The plate in front of her was nearly cleared. She was glowing—fresh from yoga, skin soft and flushed, the barest shimmer of gloss on her lips.

Across from her, Luca smiled with that effortless charm. Warm, polite, well-dressed in a crisp button-down.

He was easy to talk to.

Safe.

“So,” he said between bites of his omelet, “your friends said you were in a pretty serious relationship before?”

Her fingers paused around the coffee cup.

She smiled.

“Yeah… it ended about a year ago.”

“I don’t want to overstep,” he said gently, “but you seem really grounded. Not everyone gets through something like that and still believes in… you know, dating. Love.”

She tilted her head, watching him over the rim of her mug.

“I believe in second chances,” she said sweetly. “But only when someone deserves one.”

He smiled. “Fair.”

She didn’t say his name.

She didn’t need to.

But inside her chest, something tightened—an ache she had no interest in naming.

Time Skip — Monday Evening, 6:42 PM

Y/N’s Yoga Studio — Front Entrance

She pushed open the glass door, mat in one hand, water bottle in the other, ponytail damp from sweat and effort. Her body felt lighter. Her mind clearer.

Until she saw him.

Leaning against the black car parked right outside the studio.

Matt.

Still in a white fitted tee and dark jeans. Forearms crossed. That same chain around his neck. Eyes locked on her like a hunter who’d been waiting hours.

She stopped dead.

“Seriously?”

He said nothing at first. Just pushed off the car and walked straight toward her.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “That was on purpose.”

“Get in the car.”

She laughed—dry, disbelieving. “Are you serious right now?”

“Now, Y/N.”

“Why don’t you go home and play daddy?” she hissed. “I’m sure your pregnant fiancée is wondering where you are.”

His jaw tensed. His nostrils flared.

He grabbed her wrist—not roughly, but firmly—and yanked the passenger door open.

“We’re talking. One way or another.”

And before she could fully think, she was in the car.

The door slammed.

He got in. Started the engine. Said nothing.

And she said nothing either.

Until she realized—he was taking the turns toward her place.

Her breath hitched.

She looked at him.

His profile was sharp. Angled. His knuckles white around the wheel.

She hated the way her thighs pressed together. The way her chest rose with every breath. The ache.

“You know what?” she said quietly. “We can talk… over coffee.”

Back at Her Apartment — 7:11 PM

She handed him a mug.

He didn’t say thank you.

They stood in the kitchen, the air thick.

“You don’t get to act like this,” she said finally. “You don’t get to follow me, drag me into your car, show up. You’re engaged—”

“You kissed me back.”

She blinked. “That doesn’t make this right.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer, “but it makes it real.”

His voice had dropped. Dark. Rough. He placed the coffee down slowly.

“You smiled at that guy yesterday like he could give you something I didn’t. But you let me fuck you like no one else ever has.”

Her face flushed. She tried to look away.

He stepped closer.

“What did he get? Pancakes?”

“Matt—”

“I gave you everything. And you’re pretending it didn’t mean anything.”

“Because it shouldn’t mean anything,” she snapped.

“Then why are you shaking right now?”

Silence.

Then—she stepped forward. One hand in his hair. The other pressing against his chest.

And kissed him.

Hard.

Hungry.

Like she needed it.

“Shut up,” she whispered. “Just shut up.”

He grabbed her waist, lifted her off the ground like she weighed nothing, and carried her down the hall.

The Bedroom — A Blur of Heat

She didn’t remember how fast her dress hit the floor.

His mouth was on her neck, her shoulder, her chest. He didn’t undress her gently—he tore through the silence, through her restraint.

She gasped as he bit the skin of her thigh, sucking hard until it bloomed red.

He was rough. Deep. Possessive.

Her hands gripped his hair. Her nails scraped his back.

She moaned his name again.

And again.

And again.

After —

They lay tangled in her sheets, again.

His arm around her waist. His fingers tracing her skin like a ritual.

She was quiet.

Until—

“Why do you keep coming back?”

He didn’t answer right away.

But when he did, it was a whisper.

“Because no one has ever ruined me the way you did.”

It had been a month.

A month of Sunday breakfasts and weekday yoga.

Of late-night messages and secret key turns in the lock.

Y/N was still dating Luca—charming, kind, the kind of man who made her tea when her throat hurt and sent good morning texts with heart emojis.

But she was still fucking Matt.

Hard. Secret. Messy.

Sometimes she hated herself for it. Other nights, she let him ruin her until she couldn’t even speak his name.

She was playing with fire.

But she liked the warmth.

Thursday — 3:14 PM — Boutique Downtown

She didn’t mean to run into Elle.

Y/N was just looking at candles, smiling softly at the scent of vanilla smoke and clean linen when a familiar voice chirped behind her.

“Y/N?”

She turned, slow and sweet.

Elle stood there in soft blue maternity wear, a headband pulling her curls back, shopping bags in one hand and polite curiosity in her smile.

“Oh, hi!” Y/N said with practiced delight. “You look so cute.”

“You too!” Elle smiled, a little too tightly. “You… you used to date Matt, right?”

Y/N blinked once, then laughed, covering her mouth lightly.

“Oh, you didn’t know? That’s funny—yeah. I was the one before you.”

Elle’s smile strained.

“He never really talked about you.”

“No, I imagine he wouldn’t,” Y/N said, voice sugar-slick. “Hard to explain that kind of love to your new girl.”

Elle’s lips parted, unsure if she was being insulted.

“How far along are you?” Y/N asked suddenly, tilting her head. “You’re glowing.”

“Six months.”

“Aw,” Y/N said with a hand to her chest. “So sweet. Pregnancy looks so good on you… I was just saying to my friends the other day how Matt always loved that domestic look.”

Elle blinked.

Y/N smiled wider.

“Anyway, I’m running late. Take care of yourself, Elle. And say hi to Matt for me.”

And just like that, she walked out—heels clicking, perfume lingering.

That Night — Girls’ Dinner

The wine had flowed. The pasta was gone.

Y/N wiped her mouth with a napkin and said it:

“I ran into her today.”

Both Bree and Maris leaned in like wolves.

“Elle?”

“Elle.”

“Did you tell her?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, I let her connect the dots. Told her she was glowing. Asked about her due date.”

“You bitch,” Bree whispered in awe.

“Queen,” Maris corrected.

Y/N sighed, swirling her wine.

“I can’t do this forever. I told myself once Luca asks me to be his girlfriend… I’ll cut all ties.”

“Do you think you will?” Bree asked gently.

“I have to,” Y/N said. “Because the thing about Matt is… if I don’t leave first, he’ll never let me go.”

That Night — Matt’s Home, 11:03 PM

Elle sat on the edge of the bed, brushing lotion into her belly in slow, distracted circles.

Matt had just come out of the shower, towel around his hips, hair damp.

“You didn’t tell me your ex was that Y/N,” she said softly, like a landmine whispered into the dark.

Matt froze.

“What do you mean?”

“I ran into her today.”

Her voice was calm.

That was worse.

“She was very… polite.”

Matt reached for a shirt without speaking.

“She said you used to love the domestic look. That it looked good on me.”

His jaw clenched.

Elle looked up at him slowly.

“She’s beautiful. Even more than in her pictures.”

“Is there something you want to tell me, Matt?”

Silence.

He met her eyes, cold and unreadable.

���No.”

Elle didn’t argue.

She didn’t cry.

But she turned off the lamp without saying another word.

And Matt lay in bed beside her, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the woman who had just played his fiancée with a smile.

Three Days Later — Friday Night, 7:28 PM

Luca’s Loft — Soft Music, Candlelight

Y/N stood on the balcony, wine glass in hand, city lights sparkling below.

She felt safe here. Steady. Like she could almost have a normal life.

Luca stepped behind her, arms warm as they wrapped around her waist.

“You’ve been glowing lately,” he said against her temple. “I like seeing you like this.”

She leaned into him.

“I like feeling like this.”

He turned her gently.

Held both her hands.

“Y/N…”

“I know we’ve only been seeing each other a short while, but I don’t want to keep playing it casual.”

Her heart picked up.

“I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”

There it was.

The moment.

The promise she made.

She stared at him—kind, beautiful Luca—and smiled.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’d love that.”

He kissed her.

And she let herself believe it would be enough.

But somewhere inside…

Matt’s name still echoed between her ribs.

Matt didn’t hear it from her.

He saw it on her profile.

A soft photo: Y/N in Luca’s coat, her hand resting gently over his, their fingers laced across a café table. Captioned:

“✨He asked. I said yes.”

A simple sentence.

But to Matt?

It detonated.

He didn’t sleep that night.

Didn’t go home the next one.

And on the third day?

He showed up at her apartment.

Saturday — 6:31 PM

Y/N had just opened the door, keys in hand, when she froze.

Matt.

Standing there. Leaning against the wall outside her apartment, black shirt rolled at the sleeves, eyes burning through her.

She blinked, tried to shut the door, but he caught it—fast. His foot slid between it and the frame.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m on my way out—grocery store,” she said lightly. Her voice was too sweet. Her outfit even sweeter—short skirt, tight top that hugged her waist, made her breasts spill just enough.

He stared.

“Dressed like that for produce?”

She smiled. “Don’t girls in relationships dress cute now?”

His jaw tensed.

“You talked to Elle.”

“She talked to me.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Oh, just that she was glowing. Asked about the baby. That sort of thing.”

Matt stepped inside before she could stop him, his eyes dragging over her body like he wanted to carve her open with just his stare.

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not yours.”

Wrong words.

Too sharp.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“So Luca’s yours now? That soft little thing gets to touch what I ruined first?”

She turned, heart pounding.

“This isn’t your life anymore, Matt.”

“Then why do you keep letting me back in?”

She opened her mouth.

But he was already on her.

Hands gripping her waist, lips crashing into hers like punishment. Her back hit the door hard, breath stolen from her lungs.

She kissed him back.

Like fire and denial.

Like maybe this would make it easier to let go.

His hand slid under her skirt, gripping her thigh.

“Matt—” she breathed against his mouth, “—this has to be the last time.”

He didn’t answer.

Because he knew it wasn’t.

And so did she.

Saturday Night — 8:12 PM

The restaurant glittered with crystal chandeliers and hushed elegance. Waiters in black. Tables dressed in white.

And Y/N?

A vision in red.

Her dress hugged her curves like it was painted on—backless, slit high, the neckline dipping just enough to earn stares. Her hair curled in glossy waves. Power-red lips. Cute heels. Confidence in every step.

Luca held her hand as they were guided to their table. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

“You’re the most beautiful woman here,” he whispered as he pulled out her chair.

“I know,” she teased with a wink.

And then—

Matt.

Sitting three tables down.

His head turned when he heard her laugh. He went still.

Elle touched his hand, following his gaze—her smile faltering when she saw Y/N.

They weren’t just in the same place.

They were in the same orbit again.

The Collision

Eventually, someone suggested they say hello. Or maybe Elle couldn’t resist. Or maybe Matt needed a closer look.

The two couples stood face to face between tables.

Y/N smiled.

“Elle. Matt. Fancy seeing you here.”

Elle’s eyes flicked over her outfit, her makeup. The glow.

“You look… different.”

“Healing does that,” Y/N said sweetly. “Luca, this is Elle and Matt.”

Luca offered a charming smile, clearly unaware of the tension crackling beneath the surface.

“Nice to meet you.”

Matt said nothing.

He just stared at Y/N’s mouth.

Later — Restroom Powder Room

Y/N was reapplying her lipstick in the mirror when Elle’s reflection appeared behind her.

“You wore that on purpose.”

Y/N kept her eyes on the mirror.

“Wore what?”

“That dress. That color.”

Y/N capped the lipstick slowly. Turned.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I wore red for Matt.”

Elle flushed.

Y/N stepped closer, eyes amused, voice low.

“Remind me—how did you two meet again?”

Elle blinked.

“We… well, he said he was ending things with you.”

Y/N’s smile sharpened.

“Ah. So he was cheating.”

Elle stiffened. “He said it was over.”

“That’s the funny thing,” Y/N whispered. “You can tell yourself that. You have to. Otherwise, what are you really standing on?”

She took a step toward the door.

Then turned back.

“You’re glowing again, by the way. But this time… I think it’s fear.”

With a smile like a blade, she walked out—heels clicking.

Elle stayed frozen by the sink, throat tight, suddenly unsure of everything.

The dinner was done. Drinks finished. Laughter fading.

Luca stood inside by the register, card in hand, chatting casually with the hostess.

Y/N stepped outside for air, heels clicking on the stone steps, the breeze brushing over her bare shoulders like silk.

And there he was.

Matt.

Waiting.

Eyes dark. Jaw tight.

He didn’t speak—just reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her around the corner, out of view from the front entrance.

“You’re really doing this,” he hissed. “Parading around like that in front of me.”

She smiled. Dangerous. Radiant.

“I wasn’t parading. I was glowing. There’s a difference.”

“You talked to Elle like that on purpose.”

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, stepping close. “You still think I accidentally hurt people?”

His breathing was heavier now. She could feel it—his jealousy, his need, his rage wrapped in desire.

“You think he touches you the way I do?”

She leaned in slowly, lips a breath from his.

Her voice? Velvet and venom.

“I’ll think of you…”

“…while he fucks me.”

Matt’s hand twitched at his side like he didn’t know whether to drag her closer or shove her away.

But she was already stepping back.

Right on cue, Luca pushed through the front doors.

“Everything good?” he asked.

Y/N turned, radiant and untouchable.

“Perfect,” she said sweetly. “Just catching a little air.”

Matt stood frozen as she walked away, red dress swaying with every step, her hand sliding into Luca’s effortlessly.

She didn’t look back.

But over her shoulder, she said with a smile:

“You always liked watching me leave.”

Luca opened the car door for her like the gentleman he was.

And Matt?

He stood on the curb, burning from the inside out.