#now on to the rest of my stack of projects

[wistericaine]

fixed outline | theodore nott

serial killer!theo x writer!reader | fluff but in a dark way | wc: 755

summary: theo steals your manuscript and edits it

tw: mentions/references to death

“Theo, where did you put my manuscript?” you called out.

Your manuscript’s due date was just a couple hours away from now—your editor calling for an emergency meeting to run through your manuscript based on a new date that your publisher had set in stone. Said manuscript had been missing for a couple of days now, something that you were only just now noticing as you tried to look for the binder.

Your feet eventually carried you over to your office, the state of it in a complete disarray with pages thrown across every single surface that one could find. Taped onto the wall, stacks upon stacks piling on your desk, with notepads and smushed papers thrown into trash bin after trash bin. On the top of every single stack was your manuscript, the binder lying peacefully on top of everything with a small sticky note laying down on top of the plastic cover. 

You rolled your eyes as you flipped through the manuscript, looking through the notes that you knew would be inside each page. 

‘Chapter 4: unrealistic disposal timeline.’ was something that you rolled your eyes at—knowing that the issue did not lie with the timeline as much as it laid with Theo’s ego. Your mind flashed through the conversation that had happened just a week ago, with Theo stating that he could finish the murder in half the time that the killer had. 

He had failed to acknowledge this was the killer’s first time killing, but that was okay.

‘Chapter 7: love scene needs more tension.’ was something that caught your eye—your eyes running through the pages to figure out whether Theo was right or not. While the tension was well spaced out, there were places that could have a bit more impact to them. You highlighted those areas with a red pen.

‘Chapter 12: i don’t like luke.’ was something that you chuckled at, a soft scoff escaping your throat as you read that comment. Theo had never liked your character Luke, despite the fact you could never kill him off because of how important he was to the plot. At the end Theo had written a small note, a small address written at the bottom that you would be making your way over to after your meeting. 

You made your way to the meeting after that—scarf wrapped around your neck as your editor ran through the manuscript with you. You had to hold back a chuckle as she read through the small notes that Theo had made, hiding your smile behind your hand as she looked up at you with a slightly concerned look.

“He’s just a true crime fanatic.” you smiled at her.

The two of you continued through the meeting a bit calmer after that—though you could tell that her eyes were resting on you rather seriously. The manuscript was edited rather thoroughly, most of it simply cleaned up except for the parts that you needed to cut for accuracy's sake. 

Your feet carried you to the restaurant after you editor left to head back to the office, heels clicking on concrete and ceramic tile as you slowly made your way over to Theodore’s table. He had a bottle of wine in his hands, as he usually did, a bottle of red that the both of you quite enjoyed. 

“You cleaned up my outline,” you said to him as you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug before sitting down across from him. 

“And your fingertips,” he said, pointing his fork at you. “I told you no touching.”

You rolled your eyes playfully before sighing, looking down at the menu in front of you. “You know that my editor is concerned?” you explained—leaning forward just a bit. “She thinks that you're a killer.”

Theo chuckled dryly at that. “How dare she.”

“You cleaned up my fingerprints?” you asked him curiously, eyes glancing over at him as he nibbled on the small fork in his hands. You had touched one of his projects by accident when going to get food, though hadn’t quite thought about the cleanup that would have to happen after.  “That sounds oddly romantic.”

“Acts of service,” he shrugged simply.

You giggled at that, poking the hand that rested on the table. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you stop writing.” he said to you seriously—though the smile on his face told you that he was anything but. “I love your writing, you know that?”

“I know.” you smiled softly.

hello everyone, i hope you guys enjoyed! just another small drabble here <3 thanks so much for reading!

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© wistericaine 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are so very appreciated!

[holistichiatus]

my submission for the tennocon showcase :]

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: What I'd Like To Read By The End Of The Year.

I was feeling ~Whelmed~ over the weekend about all the things I still want to read, and I thought to myself, "Gee Why Is That??", so I pulled everything off my shelf and stacked it up basically in the order I'd like to read it and then went "....ah I see, carry on."

Now this stack WOULD be fine, except everything from ALWAYS COMING HOME down through HOUSE OF LEAVES is stuff I'd like to read adjacent to writing projects, namely: 1. IN BETWEEN (which I'm working on now but need to wrap up by the end of August) and then 2. NANO (which, y'know. Starts on November 1). So the sixteen (16) books between ACH and HOL are for the next three (3) months, and then I'll come back for the side-leaners during/after NaNo, I think.

(Not pictured in this stack is STARLING HOUSE, which I don't have in hand yet but will also be a NaNo Prep book!)

Basically my plan is to read down through this stack in this order and see how long it takes me! I finally got set up with my coworking space today, so hopefully I'll be writing late a couple nights a week starting. tomorrow. Which. will eat into reading time pretty significantly, hopefully.

But there's so much cool stuff I want to read! And write! And knit!! You see why I'm having A Time, huh.

[dancingindreamlight]

Hung up my new calendar, got my new planner out! Took the old magazines I never read off the makeshift table beside my main table/desk, organized it. Put my HSP Workbook out so I might do it.

[arinrowan]

My maternal grandmother could crochet.

Nothing complicated. Basic granny squares and double crochet, but she was the one in the family who made blankets for her kids and grandchildren. Dementia hit in her nineties but she still remembered how to make granny squares and made dozens. I asked her for one last blanket but by that point the dementia had taken how to join the squares. They were stacked in piles around the dining room table and when she went into care, into a plastic box for storage.

When she died, I asked for them. By that point I could crochet but didn't know how to join, and figured, someday, I'd learn.

It's at least a decade later. I'm the one who makes blankets for my nephews, for my cousin's children, for pregnant coworkers. Last year I made seven blankets, three for Project Linus, the rest for family and a friend. I can follow crochet charts, filet crochet, do clusters, fans, basic lace, amigurumi.

The world, as is its wont, is on fire. Tonight, I have opened the plastic container for the first time in a decade. I'm sorting them into piles by color. I know now how to look at them and see where her memory slipped or areas I'll need to repair. There's no printed pattern but if I need more I have the skills to copy the pattern.

Each square is 5 inches. Blanket size for Project Linus is 40x60. I'll see how many people I can give her last crochet legacy to.

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader test how well they know each other

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is based off the gq couples interviews. this one was a bit more difficult to write since there wasn't anything to go off of, but hopefully y'all enjoy it :)

Y/n sat in her chair, adjusting her hair to fall smoothly around her face with a calming, deep breath. Drew took his seat opposite her, smiling widely as a production assistant handed each of them a stack of cards. He wore an oversized knitted cardigan over a crisp white t-shirt paired with a pair of distressed jeans, his sharp features and messily styled hair tying the look together in a way that made y/n swoon.

“You ready?” Drew asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. With both of them preparing for the release of the newest season of Outer Banks as well as their respective upcoming projects, their agents suggested they do an interview together. Overjoyed at the offer, the two of them emphatically agreed to sit down with GQ for their Couples Quiz. It wasn’t the first time they had done interviews together, usually joined by the rest of the OBX cast, but this was the first time it had only been the two of them explicitly opening up and talking about their relationship.

“Of course,” Y/n returned his grin, crossing her legs as she glanced over towards the cameras. Since they went public with their relationship, they had never been especially secretive about it, talking about each other easily in passing as their partner or significant other. However, it was a bit nerve racking to be so open and talk so openly about the intricacies of their relationship.

“Alright, y/n you are clear to begin with the introduction…” one of the camera operators focused the lens on y/n, “now.”

“Hello, I am y/n y/ln and this is…” y/n gestured over to Drew, whose gaze still remained on her before he tore his eyes away and looked into the camera lens. 

“Drew Starkey.” Drew said quickly, causing y/n to laugh and a smirk to creep upon Drew’s lips.

“And today we will be taking GQ’s Couples Quiz.” Y/n finished before turning to Drew once more. With a dramatic flare, Drew shuffled his cards and cleared his throat.

“First up, how many siblings do I have?” Drew said with a quirk of his brow.

“Oh that one’s easy,” y/n said, wiping a faux bead of sweat off her forehead, “you are the oldest of four. You have two sisters and a brother.”

“That is true, that is true.” Drew grinned before tossing the card behind his chair.

“Alright, my turn,” y/n straightened in her chair, “what was my first job?”

“Why a barista of course,” Drew said, “and an excellent one at that. This girl makes a fucking killer iced latte—”

“Joseph!” Y/n reddened at his swearing, Drew immediately clamping a hand over his mouth as the two of them laughed.

“Sorry GQ,” Drew chuckled, “but it’s true. She makes a very good iced latte.”

“But yes, you are correct. My first job was in a coffee shop.” Y/n said, resting the cards back in her lap.

“Next,” Drew began, “what was our first date? Ooh that’s kind of a hard one.”

Y/n nodded to herself, thinking back towards the beginning of their relationship. It was by no means a traditional beginning, the two of them already living with each other between seasons of OBX when COVID hit. It had been only a few months into quarantine when they could no longer deny the feelings they had for each other, eventually leading them to finally start dating after what felt like lifetimes of pining over each other.

“Yeah, it is,” y/n chewed on her bottom lip in thought, “I mean we were already living with each other when we started dating, so I think we might’ve skipped that step.”

Drew chuckled, “yeah I think you’re right. But I think we’ve made up for our lost dates, you think?”

“Oh yeah, five years of living with this one I think we’ve made up for it.” Y/n smiled, thinking back to all the nights they’d spent together, whether sitting on the couch watching a movie, out at a fancy restaurant, or tangled in the sheets in their shared home. Continuing on, y/n looked at the next card.

“Drew if you don’t get this one we might have a problem,” y/n said, to which Drew’s eyes widened as he leaned in intently.

“What is my favorite Taylor Swift song?” Y/n peered over the card, a wide grin creeping on her cheeks as she watched Drew let out an exhale of relief.

“I definitely know this one: Getaway Car,” Drew said with a shrug. Y/n turned to the camera, flashing a smile and tossing the note card back. Drew did a fist pump before relaxing back into his seat.

“He knows me so well,” Y/n said. “What’s your favorite Taylor song, Drewseph?”

“Ooh, that’s a good question…” Drew rubbed his fingers along his jaw in contemplation. “I think I’m going to say Daylight because that was what we played at our wedding.”

Y/n rolled her eyes in faux annoyance at Drew’s overly sentimental but oh-so-very-Drew answer before letting out a giggle. Drew playfully rolled his eyes in return, a wide smile still plastered across his face.

“Alright, alright, who is my favorite character in Outer Banks?” Drew asked, tapping the queue cards against his chin as he waited for y/n to respond.

“I know they probably wanted this to be some cute answer and say me, but it’s really not.” Y/n said, causing the crew behind the cameras to giggle.

“Yeaaahhh it’s not.” Drew shook his head with a laugh only causing the crew’s giggles to intensify.

“It’s Barry, Nick Cirillo. The true love of his life.” Y/n said, using her finger to mime a tear falling down her cheek with an exaggerated frown.

“No, don’t say that.” Drew tossed the card at her with a shake of his head. “Yes, Barry is my favorite character, but the love of my life is most definitely sitting right here in front of you folks.”

“Aww, Starkey you sap.” Y/n said, blowing Drew a quick kiss before grabbing another question card.

“Alright, back to the questions,” y/n began. “When did we first meet?”

Drew’s face immediately lit up at the memory, “oh I remember it very clearly.”

“Do you now?” Y/n chuckled, cocking her head as she listened to Drew’s words.

“Yes, it was right after I had gotten a call back for Outer Banks,” Drew said. “They invited me in for a chemistry read and I just remember coming in and seeing this… just, absolutely beautiful girl sitting with the directors and my stomach dropped. Then she came over to me and introduced herself and I thought I was going to pass out. I was so nervous, but I tried my best to play it cool and… yeah. Here we are.”

“There is no way that is true!” Y/n teased, laughing at Drew’s exaggerated gestures as he told his story. She certainly remembered the day fondly, but she didn’t detect any of Drew’s nervousness… Maybe because she herself was so overcome with nerves the second she saw him walk through the door it didn’t even occur to her that someone who looked like that could possibly feel the same way about her.

“It is!” Drew said, raising his hands in surrender. “I thought I was totally going to bomb the audition but once the camera started rolling everything just clicked… and I’ve been totally obsessed ever since.”

Y/n felt her cheeks warm up, moving to cover her face with one of the question cards.

“Ok, here is the final question, baby,” Drew continued, a mischievous grin on his lips as he watched y/n’s flustered expression.

“Oh no!” Y/n said, smoothing her hair down and taking a deep breath to calm the flutters in her stomach. Despite being together for nearly five years, and even getting married, Drew still managed to always make her weak in the knees and remind her just why she loved him so much.

“Where is my favorite place on Earth?” Drew asked.

“Oh, I think I know this one,” y/n said with a smile. “Charleston, South Carolina.”

“Yep. Best place, best people… it’s truly our home.” Drew grinned, putting the card down and resting his chin in his hand as he stared at y/n lovingly. Catching his gaze, y/n stood up before walking over to him, the two of them embracing each other as the cameras continued to roll. Once they pulled apart, Drew rose to his feet, the two of them turning towards the camera.

“Thank you, GQ!” Y/n waved, Drew placing a kiss to the top of her head before waving along, the two of them smiling ear to ear and practically radiating with a love that continued to grow stronger every day.

[bitchface24-7]

COYOTE UGLY - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: When you’re not at the lab researching and developing Hextech, you’re in Zaun at the BDSM club Coyote Ugly as the bartender. Having this job ensures your team has enough money to continue working without any headaches. Well you’re in for a massive migraine since the man you’ve been in love with since you were kids is gonna find out about your dirty little secret.

warnings: secrets, bdsm etiquette, dom!viktor, love confessions, abelist comments (Viktor refers to himself in a negative light twice, referencing what others have called him) traffic light system, spanking, afab terms used for the smut section, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, squirting, I’m gonna write this as a 5 + 1 kinda deal. Ok? Ok. Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. This fic very obviously references Coyote Ugly (2000), and I know it is a bar in the movie but I didn't want to do a whole plotline on The Last Drop vs Coyote Ugly; and I didn't have the energy to write and characterize Silco LMAO. So I hope none of y'all are mad I tweaked it to be a BDSM club/bar instead. I've loved this movie ever since I was a kid. Now I'm tempted to do a Practical Magic (1998) fic too 😭😭

The Five Times Viktor Gets a Clue About You, and the One Time His Suspicions are Confirmed

One.

Viktor’s known you for almost two decades by this point. You’re well into your twenties and can do whatever you please. But Viktor’s got suspicions regarding you. Your excuses, your secrets. He knows you better than he knows himself.

So when you walk into the lab one day with a stack of cash, both Jayce and Viktor can’t help but look at you as if you were a project they were working on. You’ve peaked their curiosity and suspicion.

“So,” Viktor starts as you give the money to Jayce, and walk back to your desk, “Where did that money come from?”

You lightly scoff, “Don’t worry about it, V.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about it! That’s a lot of money miláček! Please tell me you got it legally.”

You whip around with a snort, “Don’t worry Viktor, it’s all legal. I just got paid from my second job. I already took a cut for myself; the rest I’m donating to the lab for our research.”

Viktor’s lips thin at that. You already took a cut for yourself and still had that much money to just… give away?

“Whatever you say, miláček.”

You’re gonna regret that. You’ve just peaked Viktor’s curiosity; and what’s the saying?

Curiosity killed the cat… but satisfaction brought it back.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Two.

Viktor’s curiosity is peaked once more when he sees a glimmer of sparkle at your navel as your shirt rises, as you try to get something off the shelf for him.

Viktor hums as he puts his pen on the hem of your shirt to lift it a bit more. You gasp as a fresh breeze brushes against your abdomen.

“Whats this, hmm?”

You sputter a bit before dropping your arms and tugging your shirt down quickly, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Your belly button is magical and shimmers on its own?”

You sarcastically hum, “How’d you know?” you add a dramatic gasp, just because you can. Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you, “You can just admit you got a piercing. Its quite common down in Zaun.”

“Whats the fun in that.” You pout, “I got it forever ago, a bit before we left for the Academy actually.”

“You got your navel pierced when you were seventeen, and I never found out about it until you were twenty-six and I was twenty-eight?”

You playfully shrug, “Guess you aren't as observant as you think you are.”

Viktor clenches his jaw, “Don’t tease me miláček. You won't like where you end up.”

“Try me.”

With that, you walk away with a sway to your hips as Viktor's grip on his pen tightens to the point he thinks it's going to snap in half.

You're going to regret that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Three.

“What is that?!” Jayce exclaims as you lounge on the couch, taking a small nap. “What? What! What're you screeching about Jayce?”

“That!” he squeaks, “On your lower back! Is that a…”

Viktor finishes the thought, “A tattoo?”

You twist your torso and look down. There's the perpetrator, a small tramp stamp that kind of looks like the Hexcores magic, and in the centre is a heart.

“Yeah.” you casually state as you go back to nap.

“Why does it look like the Hexcore?”

You take a quick peek over to Viktor before muttering, “Why not? I care about you guys and decided to get a tattoo to commemorate it.”

Jayce awes a bit but Viktor just narrows his eyes at you. There's more to it than just that. Because if not, then why did you put it in such a… risque place? Unless you wear low-rise pants or extremely cropped shirts; no one would ever see it.

Unless you're completely naked.

Viktor rubs his nose as you reposition yourself, your hip jutting out as your top rises even farther.

Viktor casually stands up and walks over to where you're resting on the labs couch. Lightly touching your lower back, he feels you flinch as he presses his hand harder onto the fully healed tattoo, “You must be cold, here. Let me fix that.”

And with that, Viktor pulls up the fleece blanket to cover your torso.

You look to Viktor and your eyes have darkened, your lids slightly narrowed. Your lips are lightly pursed as you examine Viktor. Viktor just smirks at you.

The longer this goes on, the more clues Viktor gets.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Four.

Jayce keeps pacing in the lab. Back and forth, back and forth. Viktor is worried Jayce is going to wear the floor down to the baseboards.

“Are you okay?” Viktor quietly asks, looking at Jayce in concern. He's never seen him so… frazzled before.

“No. There's a small gathering happening later today with the council members and high-level individuals. There was supposed to be a bartender to make the meeting not as mind numbing but the one Mel booked previously is sick. Now we need to find a replacement for…”

Jayce looks at his watch and runs a hand through his hair, “Three hours from now.”

Before Viktor can put his two cents in, you pipe in, “I can do it.”

Jayce whips around to look at you, a manic gleam in his eyes, “You’re not joking, right? You can actually bartend.”

You nod once, “I can actually bartend.”

“Shes not lying Jayce. She was a part-time bartender at the Last Drop when… when Vander was the owner.

Both you and Viktor look down, Vander was a good man. He took care of everyone as if they were his own kids.

Jayce clears his throat, trying to dissipate the mournful aura in the lab, “Wow, you're like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Many hidden talents.”

You snort, “More like a coyote prowling in the forest. Challenge brings mastery, dear Jayce.”

Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you. That's an… odd choice of words. No one ever refers to themselves as a coyote unless they frequent…

Oh.

Oh.

Everything is slowly piecing together, he just needs one more piece of proof before he pounces. Viktor almost feels like he's insane; he's a frequent member of the well-established BDSM club down in Zaun; Coyote Ugly. He's sure he would’ve seen you before. But there's the off chance you work when he's not there. He only goes on Saturdays, on a bi-weekly schedule.

Maybe you knew that and planned your schedule around Viktor's desires.

For this last bit of proof, Viktor’s gonna bring his attitude from Coyote Ugly to the lab. Hopefully, he doesn't traumatize Jayce (or you if he's wrong.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Five.

Viktor is good at what he does. Many people look at him and assume he's a virgin due to his disabilities. They think he's submissive due to the fact he's more lean and lithe as a man.

He's not.

He can get anyone down to their knees. He can get anyone to listen to him. He doesn't typically use this power in his day-to-day life, but he's going to bring it to the lab today. Luckily for him, Jayce had a mandated meeting to go to and couldn't weasel his way out of it.

He sees his target in the corner of his eye.

You.

You're standing by the blackboard, wobbling in place. Viktor isn't sure how well you've slept, if you've eaten anything today, or if you've even taken a break.

Viktor gets up from his own spot, and makes his way to the small kitchenette in the lab and prepares a basic sandwich and sweet milk for you. He places the items onto your desk and you're none the wiser.

Its not until Viktor clears his throat do you look away from the blackboard.

“You can barely stand straight. Here, come take a small break. Eat something.”

You smile lightly at the care, “Oh Viktor, I’d love to but I can't. I'm on the verge of a breakthrough; I can feel it! If I stop now, I wont ever complete this runic sequence!”

“I insist.”

“No, I really can't—”

“Sit.”

With that, you sat down at your desk immediately. You've never heard Viktor's voice go like that. So dark, so commanding, so… sensual.

You feel almost ashamed. Here Viktor is, making you food, a drink, and worrying about your health. And you were too much of a brat to see it.

You take half the sandwich and bite into it as your stomach growls at you. Shit, he's right. You haven't eaten in several hours and now your body’s catching up to you.

Viktor tilts his head, observing you.

“You were right, thank you.”

Viktor puts his hand on the nape of your neck and squeezes. You shiver and lean into the touch.

“You’re welcome. Don't make me have to do that again.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and glossy. Your lips pouted lightly. Viktor's grip tightens on your nape and you somewhat successfully suppress a whine.

That's the final puzzle piece.

“I wont.”

“Good girl.”

And with that, Viktor can see you blue screen.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Plus One.

Viktor's changing up his routine, visiting Coyote Ugly on a Friday rather than his usual Saturday. The trek down to Zaun wasn't too bad, but the difference is air quality was highly noticeable.

Slowly but surely, Viktor makes his way to the club. He's in his usual outfit for this scene, an all-black ensemble with the buttons of his shirt undone almost dangerously low. He can feel the looks of desire shot his way. He's always on the top of the submissive’s lists at Coyote Ugly. And every coyote he's taken has been incredibly satisfied.

But ever since this theory of his sprouted, he's been hyper-focusing on it. On you. So he hasn't been able to take any of the coyotes to bed. They're desperate.

But there's a certain coyote that's already caught his eye.

He sees you working the bar as if it were second nature. Mixing drinks, pouring shots, opening beers, and chatting up the patrons. You seem so at home here.

Viktor gets a lovely eyeful of your outfit when you hope up on the bar with a megaphone, “Same shit, new day! We follow the rules and—”

All the patrons echo your words back to you, “We don't touch your girls!”

You smirk, “And with that, let the party begin!” a bell is heard ringing in the background but all Viktor can do is appreciate your sexiness.

You're in an all-black outfit as well, but its all leather. Your top is closed by a single button, so Viktor damn near gets an eyeful of your breasts. He can see your abdomen down to the top of your navel, your belly button piercing glittering in the club's lights.

Your leather pants are skin tight and low enough that Viktor's worried you can't bend over in them without flashing someone. He sees you turn around to hop off the bar and there it is. Your hexcore inspired tattoo.

Viktor feels his pants tighten at that. Its almost like a branding in his mind. Look at that. She's mine.

A few girls get up onto the bar and dance to the songs playing on the jukebox. With a distraction in place, he makes his way to the bar to order a drink.

Your back is to the bar as you clean some glasses, “What can I getcha?”

Viktor ensures his voice is loud enough so that you can hear him, “A whiskey sour, miláček.”

The sounds of cups almost breaking puts a smile on Viktor’s face. He's got you just where he wants you. You whip around with a deer-in-the-headlights look, “Vi—Viktor! What're you doing here?! You usually come on—”

“Saturdays. Yes, I know. But I've heard wonderful things about a certain bartender and wanted to see her for myself. The only bartender I've ever met is Thomas.”

You inhale sharply, “What gave me away?”

“Little things. The money, your body modifications, referring to yourself as a coyote.”

You hit your forehead with the palm of your hand, “I'm an idiot.”

Viktor shakes his head, “No, you just got too comfortable. Besides how you reacted a few days ago when given an order sealed the deal.”

Your face feels hot, almost unbearably so. Goddamn it.

“Does this… ruin anything between us?”

Viktor scoffs, “Absolutely not! Do you know how long I've fantasized about a scenario like this happening?”

“I have an idea…” your tone is breathless as your eyes are as wide as saucers. No way is this happening. No way are your dreams coming true.

Before anything else can happen, you do a special knock on the bar. Thomas whips his head over to look at you and seems shocked.

“This is officially a Code V. I need you to man the bar tonight.”

Thomas just smiles and takes over no problem, you hop over the bar and stand next to Viktor, a beaming smile on your face.

“A Code V?”

“When I officially get the man of my dreams, I get to have a shift off. No ifs, ands, or buts!”

Viktor smiles sweetly at that.

“So…” you add before your confidence dissipates, “Wanna go upstairs?”

Viktor knows that private rooms are located upstairs if you want to… have some fun. He just nods, a sly smirk on his face, “Lead the way, miláček.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and Viktor rush up as best you can to one of the private rooms. Before anything happens, Viktor enquires if you know about the stoplight system. You do. And with that, you two touch each other in a way you’ve been dreaming about since you both started puberty.

A bit of kissing here, a bit of groping there. Before you know it, Viktor’s fingering open your pussy as you whine and pant at the pleasure Viktor is presenting your body with.

It’s wet, slick, and so hot. Viktor’s hand is slapping against your clit, causing a loud schlick sound that makes your ears burn in embarrassment. Viktor just revels in the sounds and faces you make; he never thought you could get any prettier. Looks like he was wrong.

“Please… Please… Put it in.” You beg, your eyes watery at the constant assault Viktor is giving your g-spot. Viktor kisses his teeth, “Put what in?” He cockily asks.

“Y-your cock. I want your cock in me. I want to fuck you into the bed. Please Viktor, please? I want it so bad… I need it…” You beg, your voice wobbly in your desire. Viktor growls low in his chest as removes his fingers from your pussy. “You're such a good girl, begging for me. C'mon sweetheart, I'm all yours.” With that, you ensure Viktor is comfortable as he sits up against the headboard, you saddle him and slowly sink onto his wonderful cock.

You gasp out a long drown out moan at the feeling. Viktor’s pushed right up against your g-spot, he’s stretching you out. Your pussy is moulding itself to Viktors cock, nothing else in this world will satisfy you now. One hand holds your waist as the other rubs your back.

“C’mon.” In a low, throaty voice, you moan. As if you had to use additional effort to get the words past your parted lips. Your voice is whiney and breathy. As if putting Viktors cock in you knocked all the air out of your lungs. When you lower yourself more, Viktor, who is rubbing your back with his free hand, feels something deep inside his gut tighten up a little more as you persistently try to fit the final few inches of his cock inside. You feel dizzy at that, you're so stuffed… and there’s a few inches more.

Needy. You're so fucking needy; and Viktor loves it.

He squeezes, quickly prickling your flesh beneath his fingertips into a supple hue. Viktor wishes he could mark you like that for good, wishes that squeezing hard enough would leave bruises and indents to last a lifetime. Last several lifetimes. Even if you aren't aware of it, you still attract admiring looks from other people, which irritates Viktor. Ever since you two were teens, people would look lecherously at you. And you never noticed. But at the mere thought of everyone seeing you so marked up, something wild, primal, and almost startlingly possessive gets hold of him. Even though Viktor would know who did it, they wouldn't.

They would question who defiled you so throughly; and not once in their tiny minds would they think Viktor “The Cripple” “The Weirdo” fucked you so good you're bow-legged for days. With a trail of hickeys down your neck and chest, red marks on your wrists and a glazed look in your eyes. Viktor needs to calm down, he’s getting ahead of himself.

Before he can stop himself, Viktor tangles his fingers into your sweaty, untidy hair. You shiver at the feeling. His hands are so strong, so beautiful to look at.

“Viktor! Please! Please let me move! I need it…”You beg. You've needed this since you were fifteen and you noticed how handsome Viktor was becoming.

You lean closer to Viktor, your tits close enough to his face he can easily suck a nipple into mouth. This small shift caused his cock to press even harder into your g-spot; making a long whine and a few tears to slip out of you. Seeing that causes Viktor to freeze a bit before asking, “Colour?” At that you desperately cry out a pathetic, “Green! Please!”

If Viktor had shown even a tiny bit less restraint, the pitiful little "please" that slips from your mouth might have killed him right there.

You start to bounce, a nipple still firmly in Viktor's mouth. One hand stays on your hip as the other tweaks your other nipple. You use the headboard as support to ride Viktor to your heart's content. Fuck his cock is huge, you swear you feel it in your lungs. You could've been doing this for ages. You pitifully whine at that thought; so much time wasted.

“You look so pretty like this, you know,” Viktor mumbles appraisingly as he lets your nipple go, rocking back and forth at an almost painfully slow pace, trying to give you even more pleasure. Your thighs are trembling, splattered with lube, sweat, and an unprecedented amount of wetness from your arousal. You make a tiny, barely there noise in response, pushing weakly back against him. Viktor holds you still. “So fucked out, just for me. So cock-drunk aren’t you? My little fucktoy. My good girl. My prettiest girl” Viktor showers praise on you, who just groans at the sweet attack.

You pull up as far as you can against Viktor’s strength, the head of his cock catching on the entrance to your pussy, before dropping back down aggressively and picking up a steady rhythm. Viktor lets out an appreciative moan at that. Fuck you feel so good. He's gonna become obsessed with your pussy after this. Viktor's head tilts back to rest against the headboard as he moans, you pepper hickeys all across his pale neck. He's not the only one with possessive tendencies.

You go faster and faster, rougher and harder with each bounce, but you still take into account Viktors weaker leg. You're both moaning, yours goes up a pitch when Viktor starts to rub your clit.

Viktor whispers into your ear as he ravages your pussy, “You like that? You slut. Do you like having my big cock stretch you out? Do you like me abusing your g-spot, moulding your pussy into the shape of my dick? Nothing else will ever satisfy you again, will it Pretty Girl? No. It won’t. You’ll be desperate to have my dick rearranging your guts again.”

You just moan and starts to cry at the whispered words alongside the pounding your pussy is getting. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter, you instinctively know you can’t cum without permission. So you ask,

“Viktor… Can I cum? Please? Can I cum?

Viktor just snarls at that, nipping your ear and slapping your ass with a heavy groan, “Oh fuck… you’re such a good girl aren’t you? Asking for permission to cum without me even having to telling you. Cum. Cum right fucking now.”

And you do. With a gush of liquid, you cum hard. Your body jerking, eyes rolling into the back of your head, with your mouth ajar in a silent moan that trickles down to a pleased whine. Viktor starts to fuck into you, wanting to cum too. You start to overstimulate yourself, desperate to feel Viktor cum.

Little “Uhs.” are punched out of you at each thrust due to the painful pleasure. In no time, Viktor cums too. His hips pressed flush against yours; his sharp hipbones causing a nice bruise to form. You both simultaneously moan at the feeling of Viktor pumping you full of his cum. The two lose their strength and flop down onto the bed.

You're cuddled up, now efficiently cockwarming Viktor. You're both our of breath, and immensely pleased.

“We should clean up.” Viktor pants, you giggle breathlessly, “I don't think I can move.”

The silence is comfortable, enjoyable. You’ve almost fallen asleep when Viktor casually states, “I love you. I've loved you since I was sixteen.”

You look up at him and give him a sweet smile, before pressing your lips together in a loving, passionate kiss, “and I've loved you since I was thirteen. Looks like I've got you beat.”

Viktor just chuckles as he runs a hand through your hair, “I'm exhausted. We’ll get cleaned up when we wake up.”

“I couldn't agree more. But I want a round two before that.”

“Seriously?!”

You slap Viktor's chest playfully, “We could've been doing this for a little over a decade. I'm making up for lost time!”

Viktor kisses your forehead and contently sighs, “Can’t argue with that miláček. Can't argue with that.”

With how vigorously you two went, it’s no surprise you fell asleep in a few minutes. Wrapped up together, as content as can be.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That's a wrap! Please be nice to me, I haven't written smut since like 2022-2023. Hope y'all liked it!

For the tattoo, search up “cybersigilism heart tramp stamp tattoo” on pinterest to see what kind of tramp stamp you got LMAO

[ssivinee]

「 Call Me Sirene 」

l. sophia x f reader ! ✎𓂃 You and Sophia are just from two completely different worlds. She's the rich, smart, and it girl on campus, while you're the kid no one really knows. Usually busy with work, you weren't aware that the two of you had been paired up on a project. When working on the project begins, feelings begin to go all over the place, and now you're mainly worried about Sophia getting involved in your world, especially when you start to fall for her.

word count ! 25.4 k

tags ! a tad bit of Manon x reader (fwb implications), tons of violence, blood, gore, drugs, underage drinking, alcohol, men being pigs, smut

author's note ! GUYS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT AND POSTING IT, SO PLS BE NICE. I also locked in for ya'll on this one, so enjoy! This is also kind of inspired by Weak Hero on Netflix since that's what I watched on my small writing break last week, so... yea :3.

On screen, living in Los Angeles seemed like a paradise available in the States. The portrayal had always been a place where anyone could make it big. 

However, that is only if you have luck with it. 

Because to the average person, that was all just a fantasy — unfortunately, you seemed to be one of those ‘average’ people. Well, maybe even less than average.

In your own dictionary, an average person meant a decent house, proper food every night, and a loving family. Yet life always seemed to be against you, like a magical force of the universe kept kicking you while you were down, pummeling you.

You’d felt that for as long as you could remember. Those days in your adolescence almost felt like a dream now — something you still held onto, even if it lived somewhere in the back of your mind.

These thoughts always spiraled first thing in the morning. You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the ringing in your ears dulling the rest of the loud noise echoing through the house.

Hair tied into a messy ponytail, you washed your face after spitting out the minty toothpaste. A deep breath in — eyes shut — then you rushed out of the bathroom, heading back to your bedroom, doing your best to avoid both your parents.

Well. Supposed to be parents.

They were only fosters, after all — and terrible ones. Your ‘father’ was a drunk who constantly laid his hands on you and your ‘sibling.’ Meanwhile, your ‘mother’ was okay, but she had Borderline Personality Disorder, which made the sudden shifts in her behavior hard to endure.

You weren’t a bad kid, either — even helped pay for your mom’s medication when you could. You had accolades to your name, a scholarship at the academy where you studied. Frankly, they had nothing to worry about. But none of that seemed to matter.

Frantically looking around, eyes scanning for your black zip-up hoodie. After rummaging through the stack of laundry on top of a computer chair, you slipped the hoodie on and ran out of the house.

Walking to school wasn’t ever eventful — hoodie covering your head with wired earphones in and your head down. It was your way of staying unbothered, making sure no one noticed you.

You had hoped — just hoped — for a normal day at school, at least. But then your phone buzzed, and you froze.

Pulling out the phone, you read the message you assumed was coming.

??? We need you right now

“Sophia?” the professor called, glancing up from their schedule as the Filipina raised her hand, a kind smile gracing her lips.

“Professor Hardin wants to talk to you about the assembly tomorrow, so see him after all your classes, please.”

Sophia nodded and continued organizing her notes and papers for Playwriting. As usual, the theater major kept her focus, taking her academics seriously. She heard rustling behind her, followed by a small gust of wind, and turned to see Lara settling into her chair, an iced matcha drink in hand.

“Did she call my name yet?” The younger whispered out of breath, and as Sophia shook her head, “Lara?” 

“Here!” She excitedly announced as she took off her purse and put it right behind her.

“You were late just because of a matcha latte?” Sophia asked, eyes flicking to her with a knowing look. Lara immediately looked offended.

“First off, I was almost late. Secondly, it’s an iced matcha latte. You know I can’t function without it on early mornings.”

Sophia let out a chuckle, going back to jotting down her notes.

“What class is that for now?” Lara looked over, a bit concerned that she didn’t recognize anything on Sophia’s paper.

“It’s Playwriting, so don’t worry.”

Lara sighs in relief and takes out her iPad, then sips on her drink as the Professor begins the lecture. “Heard Professor Ortiz is giving out pair projects, so fair warning during your last class,” now Sophia sighs at Lara’s whispered warning, hating anything other than solo projects since she did the majority of the work every time.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Sophia’s dread lingered — especially with the looming thought of finding out who her partner would be. By the time she sat down in the smaller lecture hall used for acting classes, her hands were clammy, clenched tightly in nervousness.

The Professor walked in and immediately put down his clipboard. 

“As you guys may have heard, you’ll be having a project that will be done in pairs. It’ll be due in a month, but it's for a thirty-minute mock play. How well your time is used, how much time is used, and the quality of the script will affect your grade.”

He moved in front of the desk and leaned against the table, listening as dramatic sighs filled the room. Sophia only shook her head, frustration bubbling beneath her calm demeanor. But the professor raised a hand to silence everyone.

“Now, now — I know some of you aren’t thrilled about the pairing, but I think you’ll enjoy this project. You’ll have creative freedom, with just a few limitations,” he continued, as papers were passed around outlining the project’s criteria.

“With all that being said, I’ll assign your partners now.”

Sophia sat straight, listening carefully while students around her reacted with either cheers or groans as their partners were announced.

She felt a glimmer of hope as the names of people she didn’t want to work with were called — maybe, just maybe, the universe would finally cut her a break?

“Sophia Laforteza and Y/n L/n.”

Her face reacted before her brain did — confusion and irritation flashing across her features.

Sophia was determined to at least talk to her professor about it. ‘Because who in the hell was that?’ She asked herself.

As if on cue, across town, you felt the burn in your knuckles as you stared down at an older man’s face. He looked shocked at your strength, clutching his aching jaw as he lay on the ground, propped up by one elbow.

“What the hell was that for!?” he shouted. You crouched down, wincing at the volume in his voice — your ears never did well with yelling.

“Shut up for a second,” you grunted as you gave him a forceful soccer kick to his abdomen. 

He let out a groan, curling over as you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. You watched the fear settle into his eyes as he looked past you, desperate for help. His gaze landed on a woman leaning casually against the brick wall behind you, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. The shades she wore hid the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“Can’t you help me?” He begged her.

Your grip tightened, yanking his head so he had no choice but to meet your gaze.

 “Didn’t we say you pay up when messaged?” You said calmly. He nodded quickly, looking like he was about to piss himself. 

“Then why has it been a week, and we still have nothing from you?”

He couldn’t respond, the panic taking over as you felt him shake. 

He couldn’t answer. His panic had taken over — you could feel the trembling in his body.  

“You know he gave you a chance to pay it back,” a husky voice chimed in beside you. You raised a brow at the woman stepping in — Manon, smirking like always. She hovered behind you and leaned in close, voice low. “But sadly, a week is our limit before we start terrorizing you.”

“Right?” Manon whispered in your ear, and your body nearly shuddered — but you stayed focused on the trembling man beneath you.

“This one’ll be visiting you every day until then,” she added, patting your shoulder. “But you wouldn’t want that, right?” He nodded frantically, eyes wide.

You were ready to throw in another punch, just to get it out of your system, but Manon pulled you back, steering you toward the car and practically shoving you into the driver’s seat of the ride you took care of like it was your own.

“Did you really have to push me in?” you muttered, exasperated. She slid into the passenger seat with that signature charming smile that always made it impossible to stay mad at her. “It was time to go before you started rocking his shit.”

“Isn’t that why you guys pretty much hired me for?”

She nodded, pulling a blunt from her bag and lighting it. After taking a long drag, she exhaled slowly out the window. “Yeah, but~” She turned to look at you, lowering her shades to the bridge of her nose. One hand reached over, her finger brushing lightly along your jaw.

“You know how you get when we meet clients like that. All hot and bothered.” Now, you rolled your eyes. Her ever-so-flirtatious actions never ceased, but it’s kind of why your friendship worked.

It was how you managed to find some kind of fun in your life.

She gave you a quick smooch on the cheek, then glanced down at her phone. “He said if you're finished, you can go.”

That was all you needed to hear before pulling off. You could feel Manon’s gaze lingering on you. “Make sure you at least remember to drop me off,” she teased, and you nod knowingly.

Falling into this lifestyle wasn’t something you planned. It just… happened. Not like you were proud of the job — but it paid way better than anything else you could get. It helped with saving money up for at least a small apartment, and your mom’s medication.

So what exactly was the job?

It’s a bunch of things, honestly, but your boss likes calling it being an ‘enforcer.’ Your boss was a businessman who sold many things, and it was your job to make sure those people paid up.

Thankfully, it never went beyond beating someone within an inch of their life — but the job did make you feel like someone else entirely. A double life, almost.

And even if you weren’t proud of it, you were guilty of enjoying it. That confession may sound crazy to the normal person, but with the environment you lived in, this was a way to release some steam.

Your whole life had been spent trapped in that shitty home, trying to survive as a perfect student. So when you were offered this gig in your second year of college, you were hesitant. But after shadowing another enforcer doing their job, there was a spark you felt.

After that, you never looked back.

You brought the car to a stop, double-parking in front of a run-down warehouse. Manon let out a relaxed sigh beside you. “You can take the car to school,” she said. “He’ll probably ask you to come back later anyway.” Before getting out, she leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which didn’t even phase you — that was just her usual antics.

Rushing back to campus, your tires screeched slightly as you pulled into the nearest parking space on campus. You barely put the car into park before grabbing your bag and booking it across the lot and into the building, the wind breezing at your face, with Manon’s expensive scent lingering on you.

Reaching for your phone in your back pocket and glancing at the screen, you exhaled in relief — you’d make it to your last two classes at least. Your stomach growled, and you clutched it in embarrassment, but luckily, no one was around. The empty ache gnawing at you, so you made a beeline for the common area, weaving through multiple students and half-hearted conversations.

Inside, the faint smell of espresso and citrus snacks filled the air. You slid a few crumpled bills into the snack machine from your front pocket, buying a cold coffee and a small bag of chips. The annoyingly loud clink of coins echoed into the machine.

Meanwhile, across the lounge space, Sophia sat at the round couch near the window, her expression visibly irritated as she waved her hand in emphasis.

“I don’t understand why he grouped me with someone who barely even shows up to class,” she complained, arms folded across her chest. Her brows furrowed as she recounted the short conversation with her professor.

She had gone straight to him after class, hoping to reason her way out of the random pairing. But instead of hearing her out, he dismissed her concerns without so much as a second thought.

“You know we don’t prioritize attendance much,” he had said, “but Y/n does well in every single one of her classes.”

That answer didn’t sit right with her. Sure, professors didn’t assign much digitally — it was a performance-heavy major. Most of the work had to be done in person. Still, if you were barely there, how could your grades be that solid?

It didn’t matter, since she couldn’t trust his word for it, because she just couldn’t believe it at all. “This is so… UGH!” she groaned, throwing her head back in frustration.

Yoonchae, Lara, and Megan exchanged small giggles at her dramatics, clearly fond of the rare spirals Sophia has. “It shouldn’t be that bad,” Yoonchae offered with a soft shrug, the youngest of the four trying to ease the mood. 

She looked to the others for support. “She’s right,” Lara chimed in, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re Miss Sophia Laforteza — you’ll make it work.”

“Exactly,” Megan added, leaning back with a stretch, her elbows resting on the armrests of her seat. “Besides, Y/n can’t be that bad if she’s on a scholarship here, right?”

Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but does anyone actually know anything about her?”

That question was met with synchronized shakes of the head. Sophia let out another groan, letting her head thunk softly against the back of the couch.

“Wait!” Megan suddenly perked up, her eyes darting across the room. “I think Daniella is friends with her. I’m pretty sure they hang out sometimes between classes.”

The group followed her gaze as she craned her neck, scanning the far end of the common room. Then her finger lifted and pointed subtly. “Bingo.”

Sophia followed the line of Megan’s finger and spotted a table tucked into the corner by the windows. You sat there, slouched slightly in your seat beside the Latina and, oddly enough, you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Oh… she’s hot,” Lara blurted without shame. No one even flinched at the comment; Lara’s bluntness was the norm by now. But Sophia blinked, stunned by how not what she expected you were.

You had this quiet intensity about you — tired eyes that looked like they didn’t tolerate bullshit, with knuckles looking a bit pink in color. The hood of your zip-up hung loosely over your head, stray pieces of black hair framing your face. 

Your hoodie was unzipped low, revealing a plain white tank underneath, snug against your frame, and a tattoo of lilies peeked out across your right collarbone that reached toward your shoulder blades.

Your lips were plush, parted slightly in amusement at whatever your friend said beside you, and there was the faintest curl of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. You looked like someone who didn’t ask for attention. Which is technically a success if Sophia didn’t know who you were until this project.

“Should you go intro—” Lara began, but Sophia was already ten steps ahead, her heels confidently clicking across the marble floor as she strutted toward your table. “Oh no,” Yoonchae muttered, watching the possible trainwreck about to unfold with a sense of secondhand embarrassment coming over her.

You took another slow sip of your strong, cold coffee, the flavor biting against your tongue as the sound of approaching heels pulled your attention away from whatever Daniella had just said. You looked up, brows pulling slightly together at the sight of the one and only Sophia standing in front of you.

Daniella blinked beside you, just as confused, her head tilting slightly as she asked, “Uhm… hello?” more out of instinct than anything welcoming.

In the back of Sophia’s mind, she had come in ready to make demands, set the tone, maybe even give you a strong few words. But standing in front of you, with your unreadable expression and calm aura, she instinctively knew that wouldn’t go over well. Something about your posture warned her not to try it.

Her expression shifted quickly, the stoic look changing into a practiced, polite smile.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you Y/n?”

You didn’t answer immediately — just stared at her for a moment. You could feel Daniella’s curious gaze flicking between you two, waiting to see where this was going. You finally gave a short nod.

Sophia cleared her throat. “We’re partners for Professor Roland’s project in Playwriting. I’m So—”

“I know who you are,” you said plainly, cutting her off with no hesitation. Your voice wasn’t rude — just firm enough for Sophia to believe her intuition was correct about being smart with you. “I’ll talk to him about the project first thing in class tomorrow. Just give me your number, and I’ll reach out.”

You pulled a pen and a tiny pad of yellow Post-it notes from your bag and slid them across the table with the casualness of someone used to giving orders. Sophia hesitated, lips parting slightly in surprise, almost scoffing, but bit it back. Instead, she scribbled down her number, leaning forward and murmuring, “If you’re even coming into class tomorrow.”

You weren’t phased at the comment, just staring right back at her. “I’ll act like I didn’t hear that.”

Sophia’s brows lifted slightly, more in relief than defiance, as she clasped her hands together, putting on her smile again. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You watched her walk away quickly, her posture a little stiffer than what you’d assume. Across the lounge, her friends immediately perked up like a pack of gossiping birds, leaning in as Sophia dropped back into her seat with an audible sigh.

“That didn’t look too bad,” Megan commented, eyeing her curiously. “How’d it go?” Yoonchae asked, genuinely curious.

“She’s a bitch,” Sophia muttered under her breath as she slumped into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can change her,” Lara said dreamily, already gazing across the room like she was mapping out an entire future with you.

“Okay, so it did go bad,” Yoonchae concluded, but Sophia shook her head. “It’s not even that… she’s just bossy!” Her voice pitched up, nearly too loud, and the group hushed her immediately.

“Ohhh, what I’m hearing is… you’ve met your match,” Lara teased, already grinning. “Love a good top,” she added with a smirk, half-joking — but only half. Megan let out a stifled giggle, covering her mouth.

“Not the time,” Sophia muttered, shooting them a glare while Megan and Lara both raised their hands in mock surrender. “Copy that,” Megan mumbled through her smile. “So what now?” Yoonchae asked again, chin resting on her hand.

“She said to give her my number and she’ll talk to Roland tomorrow.”

“That’s if she even comes in tomorrow.”

“That’s what I said!” Sophia huffed, pointing at Yoonchae like they were in sync. She slumped back again with a sigh. “I guess I’ll see how it goes.”

“Don’t forget any details, babe,” Lara said, casually chomping into her sandwich, eyes still flickering toward your table.

“That was odd,” Daniella muttered beside you, her fork hovering in mid-air. You just shrugged, eyes still lingering in the direction Sophia had disappeared. “I’m guessing Miss Perfect isn’t too thrilled about being partnered with me.”

That made Daniella chuckle, nudging you lightly with her elbow as she poked toward Sophia’s group with her fork. “It did seem like she was holding back.”

“Then she made a good decision.”

Daniella tilted her head, one brow raised, giving you that don’t be a menace look. “Be a little nice, please.” You stared at her like she’d just spoken a foreign language. “Am I not nice?” She didn’t even hesitate, “You can be a bit bossy sometimes.” She took another bite of her chicken, chewing with zero shame. “And honestly, you don’t want to make her your enemy. All your brains won’t mean shit if she decides to make your life hell.”

A slow smirk tugged at your lips. “I can handle her.” Daniella hummed, not convinced. “Sure~ you can.” Even if you weren’t at school every day, you knew plenty about Sophia Laforteza. The Filipina was rich, driven, smart, popular — basically a walking main character, and people liked her… or at least pretended to. 

“Oh, are you coming over for dinner tonight? My mom’s cooking.”

“What’s tía making?” you asked, instantly more invested in the conversation. “Vaca Frita.”

You let out a soft, involuntary sound — almost a moan — just from hearing it. But then your shoulders slumped, the responsible part of your brain taking over. “I’ve got work later. Can’t tonight.”

Daniella knew well enough not to push. “Your loss then, girl.” She checked her phone and jolted slightly. “Crap, I gotta head out — class starts in five. I’ll text you tonight?”

You nodded, watching her grab her bag and head out. You opened your chips, the crinkling bag filling the air as you leaned back, letting the salt hit your tongue.

The rest of your day passed without issue. You sat through your classes, sped through the majority of your notes, and eventually made your way to the parking lot just as the sunset tinted the sky.

As you walked out, Sophia and her friends were standing at the campus entrance, waiting for her chauffeur. She glanced around absently until her eyes landed on you. You’d pulled something from your backpack, likely your keys, right before a sharp beep echoed across the lot. Her head turned automatically toward the sound.

And then she saw you slide smoothly into the driver’s seat of a Lexus, shutting the door. “She owns a Lexus?” Sophia asked, barely hiding her surprise. Lara leaned forward, eyes tracking you as if she were witnessing a twist ending. “Well… she’s now officially even hotter in my eyes.”

“I definitely agree,” Megan chimed in, while Yoonchae snorted softly, shaking her head at the chaos that was her friends.

Without a care in the world, you made it to the warehouse—the usual weathered, run-down building squatting between two abandoned lots. You pulled into the large garage, parking among a handful of high-end cars that didn’t fit the look of the building.

You took off your hoodie, the heat causing you to sweat, with tattoos peeking through your white tank, and the scars along your arms could be faintly seen from the multiple fights you’ve been in all the years of working your job. As you entered the building, you saw thick with smoke, smelled cheap liquor, the scent of weed, and whatever stale cologne some of your other coworkers practically drowned their bodies in.

People were scattered across the room: gambling, arguing over cards, drinking, flirting, and lounging around like a normal day.

You spotted Manon near the office door, legs crossed, poised as she sat in her favorite chair. Of course, she’d be waiting for you. It was pretty much her usual thing to do when you guys worked together for the day.

“Did he say anything to you?” you asked, stepping closer. Manon’s eyes swept over you — a slow, deliberate drag — taking in the tank top, the ink, the tough skin. “He said he just wants a report on that guy.”

“Donovan,” you corrected.

“Yeah… Donovan,” she echoed, distracted as she walked up to you. Her eyes flicked to your lips as she hooked her arms lazily around your neck, pulling herself closer with a practiced ease. You leaned your head back with a sigh, already over her antics. “Not now, Manon,” you muttered, slipping out of her hold with ease. 

As your hand reached for the office door, her voice trailed behind you, sounding innocent and sweet. “Then later?” You glanced back, lips curving just slightly. “Maybe.” She evidently lit up at your words, and you pushed through the door before she could say anything else.

Inside, the boss sat at his desk, flipping through a mess of paperwork with the focus of someone who’d seen too much. You stopped in the center of the room, hands instinctively clasped behind your back.

“How did it go with Donovan?” he asked without looking up. “He’ll pay by the end of the day tomorrow,” you said plainly.

“And if not?”

“Then he’ll have a broken arm before midnight.” Your voice didn’t waver, and the way you spoke came out with normalcy. That alone made him smile. “And if he still doesn’t—Y/n?”

“Then I’ll deliver him to you personally.” Each line came out as if a soldier were speaking to their commander. But he liked that about you the most — you were his most reliable enforcer. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

You rolled your shoulders, neck cracking as you stretched, and asked, “Anything else you need, Rai?”

“No. You’re done for today,” he said, eyes back on the papers. “Stick around if you want.” You nodded once and slipped out. The air outside the office felt colder, and the multiple AC units were working overtime to cool the concrete-covered place. You walked back to where Manon was — in the same seat, more secluded than the rest of the room.

Everyone knew that was her spot. She is Rai’s favorite woman after all, and unlike most women in this place, she didn’t earn her power by flirting her way up. 

Some might think Rai favored you both for the same reasons, but they’d be wrong. It wasn’t about attraction for both of you. It was about the consistency in how much money you make for him, the unwavering loyalty you gave him, and the usual great results. He’s seen it in the weekly reports he had for each of his workers.

It’s why the two of you were usually grouped together, allowed to use any one of his cars, and could even ask for help whenever. Both of you assumed that was the reason he had both of you partnering up during jobs often.

Being an enforcer also didn’t just mean beating up people for their debt, but also protecting the woman who worked with Rai. None of the women did anything crazy, but if they did, Manon wasn’t one of them. She’s just a terrifyingly amazing actress with a face that most men couldn’t resist falling for. 

Yet you were lucky enough to clearly see that Manon had a thing for you instead. 

Although she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship, at least at this point in her life, that didn’t mean she wasn’t attracted to you. Never stopped her from showing how bad she wanted you, either.

Like now, in the way she’s currently straddling your lap, knees pinning you in place, her face dangerously close, and that signature smirk was slowly spreading across her lips.

“Think you’ll be around tomorrow?” she asked, her voice soft between the light kisses she pressed along your jaw, then to the corners of your mouth. Her weight settled fully into your lap, your hands gripping her thighs with ease. It was Manon’s usual thing, and it was only up to you if the two of you would go any further.

“Probably not. I’ve got things to do for school,” you muttered, feeling her lips stall at your words. Manon pulled back just enough to pout, her eyes softening into that look, the one that always made you sigh without meaning to.

“Will you come here for me then?” she asked, the tip of her finger lightly tracing your collarbone. You exhaled, already defeated. “Not until midnight. I’ve got a project I can’t skip.”

She inched in closer, just enough for her breath to ghost across your lips slowly. “Make sure to make time for me?”

You huffed a short laugh, head tilting back slightly as you looked at her. The absurdity of this woman who is so wanted by so many people, sitting in your lap like you were the only one who existed.

“I’d honestly rather be with you every day instead of working with my project partner, so…”

Her grin curled wickedly. “I’m not hearing a no, Y/n~”

You felt her body shift forward again, like she was daring you to stop her, and when her lips hovered over yours again, just close enough to taste, then whatever self-control you had cracked.

“I’ll make it work,” you whispered against her lips.

She kissed you then, soft at first. You felt her breath from her nose against your cheek as her lips melted into yours, the faint feeling of her lip gloss catching on your tongue when she deepened the kiss.

Her hands slid up your torso, nails grazing at your sides as you feel them through the thin fabric of your top, before curling around the back of your neck. She held you close, anchoring herself against you as her mouth moved with a slow rhythm. 

You wrapped your arms tight around her waist, pulling her flush against you with no space left. Her hips shifted a bit in your lap, “shit.” You could only whisper before locking lips again, and you swore you could feel her smirking.

Her tongue slipped past your lips, like she’d done it a hundred times — and yet, it always made your body heat up. The slow drag of it against yours had your fingers digging gently into the backs of her thighs, feeling every move, breath, and hum that vibrated from her throat into your mouth.

The kiss grew messy since Manon had a need for you, clearly less patient than when she first started. Her hands tangled in your tied-up hair as you tilted your head, kissing her deeper, harder. 

Eventually, she pulled back just a bit, breath shaky, her eyes still half-lidded as she looked down at you with a grin that showed her satisfaction. Her gloss was smudged, lips slightly swollen, and you knew you looked just as wrecked after all of it.

“Midnight, huh?” she whispered, fingertips tracing your jaw lazily. “I’ll be waiting.”

The comment had you chuckling as she slid off your lap. She grabbed her purse from the side of the chair, pulled out another blunt, and offered it to you with a lighter. You raised a brow, tempted since it had been a long day.

“For me?” you joked, and Manon tilted her head, her lips twitching at the corners. “Thought you might want a treat.”

“So what we just did wasn’t my treat?” you asked, more genuine this time, which had Manon giggling before pointing a warning finger at you.

“Don’t tempt me, Y/n. You know I’d take you right here, right now.”

You shrugged a shoulder in casual agreement—and yeah, you did know. She’d grinded on you during slow nights during jobs at the club, whispered filthy things in your ear just to see you react, and once even tried to convince you to fuck her in the back of one of Rai’s cars after literally beating two people up.

Now taking the blunt from her fingers, you perched it between your lips and sparked the lighter, letting the flame burn the edge. Manon watched, gaze hungry, as you took a pull, then grinned as you exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Why are you so hot?” she asked, her voice sounding frustrated yet admiring.

You looked at her, the blunt resting soft on your bottom lip, a slow grin creeping across your face. In your head, the attraction people had toward you never quite made sense. Maybe it was some psychological bullshit. That’s what you liked to blame it on.

Sure, the tattoos and piercings screamed fuck-girl energy, and maybe the way you carried yourself didn’t help. But to you, you were just you. If that made any sense.

You took another drag, felt the burn in your lungs and the heat settle low in your gut, then puffed out a slow stream of smoke before handing the blunt off to Manon, who took it with a satisfied hum.

“So what about this project partner you clearly can’t stand?” she asked, taking a pull herself and letting the smoke drift lazily from her mouth.

“Just a prissy rich girl, honestly.”

“Is she hot?” she asked, deadpan. You cut her a look. “Of course you’d want to know.”

She just shrugged, unfazed. “It’s a valid question.” You rolled your eyes, but still, the question had you pondering. If you were being truly honest with yourself, she’s undeniably beautiful. That’s why people flocked around her and added the money, the intelligence, and the reputation into the equation; you aren’t stupid to not admit she’s hot.

“She isn’t ugly,” you muttered, finally admitting it. Manon cackled at that, familiar with your deflection. After working together for four years, she could read you like a damn book.

“So that’s a yes,” she teased, smug. “Fuck yeah, she is.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You snatched the blunt from her fingers again, taking a deeper pull as she sat back, visibly entertained.

“You’re clearly about to have a rough few weeks, so good luck to you.”

‘...Yeah, good luck to me,’ you thought, watching the smoke swirl into the air as you took one last drag.

The next day, you walked into your Playwriting class wearing a black long-sleeve compression shirt tucked into your grey baggy sweats. Sophia’s eyes found you immediately as you strolled down the aisle of the small lecture hall, one hand gripping the strap of your book bag while you chatted with Professor Roland.

She watched from her seat, quietly observing the way he nodded along to nearly everything you said. He pulled out a paper, Sophia assuming it was the same one the class received the day prior, and handed it over without question. He was explaining a few things while you listened, head tilted in that way that made it look like you actually gave a damn.

Roland was one of the more chill professors anyway, so it didn’t surprise you when he let you off easy.

You glanced around the room, eyeing your seating options. It was still early, so only about half the seats were filled. That’s when you spotted Sophia, already looking at you, her lips pulled into a tight-lipped smile.

You chuckled under your breath at the expression and made your way over, figuring it’d be smart to sit next to your partner in case class time was given to work on the project. Sophia subtly shifted in her seat, leaning to her right like she was trying to physically distance herself from you.

“You’re here today,” she said, more sarcastic than she probably meant to sound. “I told you I would be,” you replied, setting your bag between your legs as you pulled out a notebook. “I don’t go back on my word.”

She didn’t respond, just glanced at you again—and this time, she didn’t stop. If she wasn’t going to talk to you, maybe she could get a read on who you were by just observing… It was also a good way of checking you out, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

You gripped your pen, scribbling something down, and she caught sight of your handwriting, which, to her surprise, was actually rather neat. Her gaze then traveled to your hands, which looked strong. A little roughed up, your knuckles having gashes on them and looking a bit darker than the pink she saw the day before. She caught herself wondering what they’d been through to look like that.

You noticed and peeked over at her. “Am I distracting you?” you asked, amused. Sophia snapped her head away, clearly caught. “No, you aren’t.”

You scoffed quietly, fighting a smirk. “What do you want our play to be on?” she asked, tapping on her tablet like she hadn’t just been staring at you.

You shrugged. “You can pick. I’ll go with it.” That made her glance at you, brows slightly raised. “You sure you can handle it?”

You met her gaze with a certainty. “I know I can.”

Setting your pen down, you gave her your full attention. She hesitated, but then answered.

“Fine. A tragic love story.” You nodded once, lips slightly pursed. “I’m cool with that.”

Sophia went back to her tablet, and for the first time since she found out she was paired up with you, she didn’t seem so tense. She could already see the way you were scribbling ideas in your notebook, outlines of scenes, bits of dialogue, maybe even character notes. 

It surprised her how quickly she started to feel… not annoyed? Almost like she didn’t mind this. Then the realization hit her.

…You’d have to act this out… Together… Just the two of you.

She palmed her forehead, cursing herself under her breath. “Wait — how about—”

“No take backs,” you said smoothly, not even looking up from your notebook. Sophia gave you a side-eye, reluctantly amused. “I hate you.”

You grinned. “You don’t even know me yet.”

Yet, by the time class ended, Sophia had to admit that every idea you suggested was actually good. You worked fast and didn’t waste time, pretty much realizing that this was one of the reasons why you continuously passed your classes despite not coming into school. 

She still didn’t know what to make of you entirely, but she could work with this and maybe even enjoy it. “Hey,” she said as you both gathered your stuff. “Do you want to work on the project at my place after classes?”

You glanced over at her. “I can. But only for a few hours — I’ve got work later.”

“That’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’ll text you once all my classes end. Then send the address.” You tell her and she nods, slinging her purse around her arm.  You left her, making sure to meet up with Daniella off campus for the day since she texted you early enough about her many professors canceling classes.

With Sophia, back in the Common Area, she walked in to find her friends lounging in their spot. The second Lara spotted her, she raised her brows with a smirk. “Okay, details now,” Lara demanded.

Megan perked up, and even Yoonchae tilted her head in interest. Sophia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto her lips.

“…It wasn’t awful,” she said, settling into the seat next to them.

“Ohhhh, not awful?” Lara teased, grinning. “We’re already making progress.” Sophia shook her head, reaching for her drink and hiding her face behind the straw.

“She actually does work!” Sophia cheered, throwing her hands up. Yoonchae giggled at the reaction, finding it dramatic for something so basic. “That’s one thing to be happy about,” she said, sipping from her bottle.

“Are you guys working on the project today?” Megan asked between slurps of her noodles. Sophia nodded. “Yeah, for like a couple of hours at my place. She’s got work, so I’m not sure how much we’ll get done.”

Lara leaned back with her iced tea, stirring it lazily with her straw. “I wonder what she even does for work?”

“Probably something with heavy labor,” Sophia replied absentmindedly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, since her hands are so muscu—”

She froze when she caught the three of them staring at her with matching expressions. “What?” she asked, blinking.

“How long were you staring at her hands?” Megan asked bluntly, while Sophia felt the heat creeping up her neck. Lara squinted, a grin spreading across her face as she spotted the soft pink peeking beneath Sophia’s makeup. “You know, I don’t blame you,” she teased, “but it is kind of unexpected coming from you.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. While the girls were busy poking fun at her, across campus you were heading into the café near campus.

Your eyes scanned the tables and landed on Dani, who was sitting by the window, scrolling on her phone. Just before you reached her, you texted Sophia a simple ‘hey, it’s Y/n,’ so you wouldn’t forget to hit her up later for her address. She sent a quick thumbs-up reaction on the bubble before sliding into the seat across from Dani.

“You order yet?” you asked, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you. “I got garlic bread for us to split, iced chai for me, espresso for you.” You smiled, appreciative. “That works. Thanks.”

She waved you off like it was nothing. “So, how was work yesterday?”

“Easy,” you answered plainly. It had just been a chill check-in with Rai — nothing intense. “And Manon?” she asked, eyeing you over the rim of her cup. Your brow rose instantly. “What about her?”

The name had slipped out during one of those way-too-late conversations you and Dani tended to have. Which was the worst mistake ever since she didn’t even know what Manon looked like, but that hadn’t stopped her from being your number one shipper since.

“Did you guys… You know?” Her voice dropped like she was about to tell you a secret. Your eyes widened at the implication. “We didn’t do it yesterday,” you hissed, before you could accidentally announce it to the whole café.

“Right~” Dani smirked, all smug satisfaction, and you didn’t even have time to come up with a comeback before the server arrived with your order.

You grabbed a slice of garlic bread like it was your saving grace. “What about Sophia?” she asked after a few bites, but she was more curious this time.

“She’s gonna send me her address,” you replied, mouth still half full. “We’ll work on the project for, like, an hour or so. I’m not planning to overstay. Then I’ve got work later tonight.”

“Like… later later?”

“Yup~” you nodded, voice a little sing-songy.

Dani didn’t say anything, just leaving her knowledge of that again. She didn’t know everything about your job, not that you ever hid it from her, but she definitely knew what “later” meant. Someone was likely going to get hurt by you, she just didn’t know to what extent.

“Think working with her is gonna be a breeze, though?”

“Oh, not at fucking all. Have you met the girl?” you deadpan, and Dani bursts out laughing. “Hey, at least you get to experience the rich life for both of us,” she teases, and you just shrug, not entirely convinced that was a good way to think of it.

If anything, the idea of spending the next few weeks going between your job and someone else's luxury felt more suffocating. The anxiety had been bubbling beneath your skin all day, and getting Sophia’s address right after classes didn’t help. Her place was further than you expected, tucked away in some grand neighborhood that showed up on Google Maps.

If you tried commuting the whole way there and back, it’d be at least an hour each trip, more if traffic hit or the trains got backed up. And by the time you’d need to leave, buses would be packed with people going home from whatever crazy routine they had.

‘Shit,’ you muttered to yourself, slipping your phone into your back pocket. The only solution you could think of was borrowing one of Rai’s cars for the next couple of weeks. You didn’t love the idea since it felt like you were using his kindness, but you figured if you got the project mostly done ahead of time, maybe you wouldn’t need to use the car for a longer time.

After your last class, you texted Rai about taking the BMW, waiting by the edge of the warehouse until you got the simple text.

Rai Keys are in the box Don’t scratch her

You smirked, unlocked the silver car, and peeled out of the lot. What would've been an hour-long commute was shortened to about thirty minutes, the engine feeling more luxurious than expected, and low music from the stereo let your anxiety calm down a bit.

Then Google Maps made you pull up to the large gates. They were black and high—crowned by jagged tips cemented on top of a thick, pale concrete wall. The house behind them was humongous. Spanish-style architecture, with reddish roof tiles and tall windows that reflected the sun right through the dark-tinted windshield.

Your eyes flicked to the intercom. You pressed the button and leaned in, awkward and unsure. “How can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked through the speaker, calm and clipped.

“Uhm—yeah, I’m Sophia’s partner. For the project?”

“Full name?”

“Y/n L/n.”

A moment of silence, then a well-oiled gate started sliding open to your right. You drove in slowly, watching the path wind past perfectly cut hedges and a tiered fountain. Parking just in front of the entrance, killing the engine as the front door opened. An older woman in a maid uniform greeted you with a practiced smile.

“Please come in. Miss Laforteza should be down in a bit,” she said kindly, stepping aside to let you in.

The air inside was cool, air filled with a soft citrus scent and sparkling marble flooring that made you aware of every single scuff on your sneakers. The foyer was already the size of your entire house, and your gaze swept the curved staircase and twinkling chandelier.

Yeah, you were gonna need a minute to get used to this. Shifting in your stance, your fingers tighten around your bag strap as Sophia appears at the top of the stairs. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she was wearing lavender sweats and a snug white baby tee with ‘babygirl’ written in pale pink bubble letters.

The contrast from everyday polished heels and a designer outfit made your brows raise slightly.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in sweats,” you said, more amused than anything. Sophia rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “I am home, so it makes sense to get comfy.”

She turned to the maid, politely asking for drinks and snacks to be brought to the library.

You blinked. “I mean... I’d say this is more than a house,” you muttered under your breath as she waved for you to follow.

“We can work in the library,” she said over her shoulder. You stared at her like she just said, ‘We can work on Mars.’

“Library?” you echoed, brows raised. “Yeah? Is that a problem?” Sophia glanced back, confused. “I guess not,” you replied quickly, trailing behind her. You weren’t really sure what the right response was. 

‘Oh, cool, I’ve got a library too. It’s called a public one, and I wait forty minutes just to use a computer over there.’ 

Every hallway turn just screamed wealth, and a little voice in your brain repeated poor over and over again.

When she opened the doors, the scent of paper greeted you instantly. Warm lighting glowed from sconces on the wall, giving the room a soft amber hue. Everything was dark mahogany—bookshelves stretching up the walls, thick wooden tables, chairs with cotton cushions, and old mirrors.

It didn’t feel warm temperature-wise, but it looked warm. You exhaled slowly, trying not to feel out of place. “All the books in here probably cost more than my entire scholarship fund,” you mumbled, shifting the strap of your bag.

Sophia giggled under her breath, then gestured toward one of the long tables. “Sit wherever. Do you have any ideas?” You nodded, already sliding into the chair and placing your notebook on the table, the exact same one she’d seen in class.

You flipped a few pages, landing on one that was scrawled with notes. Some scene concepts, bits of dialogue, and even sketched thumbnails of stage direction. 

Sophia glanced at the notebook, her brows lifting slightly as she skimmed the mess of notes. Only that it wasn’t a mess, the ideas just seemed to be scribbled and out of order. The lines were neatly sectioned, with little arrows pointing to rewritten ideas and stage cues. She blinked at a few of them, caught off guard.

“You wrote all this… already?” she asked, leaning in a bit more, her voice softer now.

You shrugged, tapping a corner of the book with the back of your pen. “Just what came to mind last night and in class. Didn’t know what kinda story you’d want, so I scribbled a couple of options. A revenge arc. A slow-burn. A dual-perspective thing. This one here’s more metaphorical, could be staged minimalistically since it’s just the two of us acting it out.”

Sophia didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out to scroll down on her own screen, silently clicking and pulling up a document. “Let’s… do the slow-burn one,” she murmured, still processing what you wrote down.

Your eyes stayed on her, noticing how she sat more relaxed. She wasn’t leaning away from you like she had in class. Instead, her eyes darted between your notes and her laptop as her fingers sped through each letter on the keyboard.

The door creaked open a few minutes later, and the soft clinking of glassware drew your attention. Her maid stepped in quietly, placing a polished silver tray on the end table. It had two tall glasses of mango juice, a porcelain bowl of salted crackers, and a plate of rigid potato chips. She nodded politely and stepped back out without a word.

“Thanks, Ate Mel,” Sophia called out, before glancing at you again. “In case you were gonna say you didn’t eat.” You smirked, reaching for a chip and flicking a brow. “Didn’t say that. Just wasn’t gonna ask for anything.”

She laughed, surprising herself with how natural it came out. “You’re not really what I expected,” she admitted, reaching for her own glass. The condensation already wet her fingertips.

“That makes two of us,” you quipped, then pointed to one of the sections in your notebook.

“So this—scene two—I imagined a turning point. There’s a moment where one of them is standing in a room full of people, but they only feel her. It’s crowded and loud, but everything dulls except the moment their hands touch. That kind of quiet tension.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, and she just blinked again, not quite sure how to respond to the imagery. She read over your note more carefully this time, mouthing a few of the lines. “This is… really good. Like, it’s layered. I didn’t expect you to be so detailed about it.”

You gave a short laugh, looking back at your notebook before murmuring, “Scholarship students kinda have to overcompensate, y’know? We don’t exactly get to breeze through.”

You didn’t sound bitter, but you did sound honest. Sophia studied you in the amber glow of the room’s lights, the way the light kissed the curve of your cheekbone, casting a soft shadow down your jaw. She thought of the way you walked into class like you didn’t care, only to show up with a notebook full of genius-level notes.

“I get it now,” she said quietly. You looked up. “Get what?” She tucked a leg beneath her and smiled, sincere this time. “Why you got into the school.”

You tilted your head but didn’t say anything. Just tapped your pen, smirking lightly under your breath.

Before you knew it, time went by quickly after she gave you such a generous comment. You filled up newer pages; she had opened and closed multiple tabs throughout the past few hours as well. The project, piece by piece, started shaping itself into something you both felt proud of.

Eventually, your eyes caught time on your phone, where it buzzed as a notification appeared from Rai. You started closing your notebook, brushing stray crumbs off your lap, and adjusting the waistband of your sweats.

Sophia noticed how your energy shifted from an easygoing project partner to this serious version of yourself. “You’re leaving?” she asked, watching as you slipped your notebook back into your bag.

“Yeah. Gotta bounce in like fifteen if I don’t wanna be late.”

“Work?” she guessed, leaning her elbow against the table, chin balanced on her knuckles.

You nodded. “Yeah. Late shift.”

Your voice lowered, in a tone that sounded more wary, like you weren’t happy about going, but you would anyway. Sophia stood with you as you slung your bag over one shoulder, following you out of the library. Neither of you said anything as you made your way down the long hallway, down the winding staircase again.

Outside, the early evening had cooled a bit, and the sky was a blend of lavender and gold. You headed for the car, and that’s when she saw the metallic silver BMW. Her brows twitched up subtly. 

It wasn’t judgment in her mind, but more like curiosity and surprise. You didn’t seem in need of money, but you also didn’t seem that rich to own two cars like that.

She didn’t say anything, though. Just walked with you out of the house with arms crossed loosely. You turned around before getting in. “Text me if you think of anything else, yeah?”

Sophia nodded, biting back the thought that was stuck on the BMW. Instead, she just asked, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Works for me,” you said, tugging the car door open. “Thanks for the juice, by the way.”

She smiled and leaned against the stone pillar door frame. “Don’t be late for work.”

You smirked at that and slid into the driver’s seat, the door shutting with a satisfying thud. As you pulled away, Sophia stood there a second longer, arms still folded as she waited for you to leave completely.

Almost hoping, any thought that lingered in her mind would go away as soon as you left her view. But you seemed to have a chokehold on many women’s minds.

While pulling up to a red light, your phone buzzed. Rai’s message popped up with an address attached. He added nothing else to it, but it didn’t take much to guess it was Donovan’s location. Your heart began beating rapidly as you turned onto the highway, weaving through traffic like muscle memory. The lines of each lane seemed blurry to your vision, and your grip on the wheel tightened.

You parked a block away, turned the car off, and walked slowly, realizing that you probably should’ve brought a hoodie for less attention. Hearing the asphalt scraping under your shoes, the faint sound of cars driving from the highway far behind you. 

You kept your head down, with eyes scanning each building as you walked down the sidewalk. Apartment complexes and ruined houses filled the street, and you were mentally making notes to start checking each door you passed—until he showed up first.

Donovan strolled into your view like he owned the block, a grin that made your skin crawl stretching across his face. His eyes locked on yours, noticing how smug he looked.

You stopped walking, arms folding across your chest. “What’s this?” you asked flatly, narrowing your gaze.

He let out a shrill, ugly laugh. “You know, it’s so~ sad that you’re such a pretty lady,” he said, and just as he spoke, three guys rounded the corner behind him. One was bulky, arms evidently thicker than your thigh. Another looked like a gym bro in his ‘off’ season. The last was leaner, but that may work in his favor. Assuming that he brought them here to scare and jump you.

“Maybe in another universe, this could’ve been different,” Donovan added, his voice dropping into something slimy. His tone and the way he implied something more, and the way his eyes stared at you for far too long. Your face showed pure disgust, head pulling back slightly like you could physically distance yourself from whatever the hell he thought that was.

That reaction was enough to piss him off. He licked his teeth, like it’d help his ego. “Have a good time with my friends.”

The three men spaced out, walking toward you with caution. You were standing dead center now, their footsteps echoing faintly off the pavement as they boxed you in.

You blinked, unimpressed. “What kind of movie are we filming right now?” you muttered, then gesturing lazily toward Donovan. “You really pulled a goon trio on me? What, Craigslist wasn’t hiring?”

He just smirked like he knew this was going to work in his favor. “A petite girl like you can’t do anything against them.”

You tilted your head, eyes sharp now. “Yeah? Well, this ‘petite girl’ also kicked the shit out of you yesterday.”

The lean guy twitched. He was losing patience, and you figured he’d be the one to start. He had a crazy look in his eyes, and he… licked his lips in an icky way.

His steps closed in quicker than the others, and before you could even sigh at the predictability of it all, his fist swung wide toward your face. He was clearly excited for a ‘beat down.’

It connected, which had your head snapping slightly to the side. You blinked, let the sting settle for half a second, then turned back to face him slowly. You licked the inside of your cheek and gave a smirk.

“I wanted you to hit me first,” you said calmly, voice flat. “If we get caught here, at least I can say it was self-defense.”

Your hand snapped forward, fingers wrapping around the lean guy’s wrist, pulling him forward just enough to slam your knee into his ribs. The second knee had him grunting, as he almost staggered away from your hold, and you stepped in closer to elbow him square in the temple. He dropped, his body thudding on the sidewalk.

You weren’t sure why people never just went in at the same time; that could be a way to win, but no one ever did. The biggest of the three hesitated, giving you a window. You went low, kicking one shin hard enough that he fell. You hear a tiny crack from his back hitting the pavement, but he caught himself with one hand, scrambling back up quicker than expected.

Maybe he didn’t stretch?

But you backed up, your breathing regulated as your chest rose and fell. Experience would be on your side every time. Being in multiple fights will have you bleeding, sobbing, and clawing for survival, especially as a woman in this job.

He lunged at you again, aiming for your waist this time, trying to lift you up, maybe slam you against a concrete wall. But your body twisted, and you slammed your elbow down into the base of his neck. His arms dropped enough for you to shove him off, and you followed it up with a sharp kick to his stomach. The heel of your sneakers is digging into his navel. He leaned over, holding onto his lower stomach.

You turned just in time to dodge a right hook from the burly one.

He was the real problem for you here. Having thick arms, bulky shoulders, and the kind of weight that could crack bone if hit in the right place. You ducked, using your smaller frame to slide around him and catch him off balance. You went for his knees, aiming a kick to the back of one. He faltered and gave you the opening to jump onto his back and wrap your arm around his neck in a tight hold. 

His hand shot back, trying to grab you, and he managed to elbow your side hard enough to make you gasp for air. But your grip held, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you on. You counted seconds, about fifteen seconds, until his legs finally gave, and you released just before he blacked out completely. He just slumped onto the ground, looking like a drunk man after a crazy Saturday night party.

The second guy tried to sneak you from behind, but you turned around just in time. Gripping the front of his shirt, and headbutted him right to his nose, breaking, blood spurting instantly as you hear a gnarly crack. He staggered backward with a groan, hands covering his face, and you ended it with a kick to the side of his knee that buckled him flat to the ground.

All three were down, and you were breathing heavy, knuckles sore, the ache from that first punch settling into your jaw. You wiped the blood at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, turning your head slowly.

Donovan hadn’t moved, just standing there as he watched his plan fail within three minutes. Probably expected them to jump you fast and leave you crying for help.

“You fucking idiot,” you muttered under your breath, walking toward him. His cocky expression faltered as he tried acting all friendly now. He still thought he could talk his way out of it. “Hey, listen—”

You weren’t hearing any of it as your hand grabbed his wrist and twisted fast, too fast for him to register what was happening until you heard the pop out of its socket. He screamed and began panicking like the first time you met him.

You stepped in closer, inches away from his face, while fury coated your voice.

“You really thought that was gonna work?” you asked, twisting again just enough to make his knees buckle lower. “Three guys, on the sidewalk, taking me on? That’s your plan?”

“I—wait—Y/n, c’mon—”

You heard another crack as you took his other arm, faced his palms up, and punched his elbow with enough force that broke his arm. He dropped to the ground with a sharp sob, curling around the pain. His legs trembled beneath him.

“I should’ve done that yesterday,” you spat.

A few passing cars honked in the distance, someone muttered something on the opposite sidewalk, but no one stopped. No one was dumb enough to involve themselves in this area, but some people would be smart enough to call the cops. So you had to get out of the area as fast as possible.

Dragging him up by his shirt collar, you pulled his limp body to the passenger side of Rai’s BMW, opened the door, and shoved him inside like garbage. He moaned, trying to clutch his arm, but the two broken limbs made it impossible. You didn’t even care about any blood coating you… Or him, in all honesty, but you warned him, yet Rai wouldn’t be happy with his little stunt either way.

“Don’t bleed on the seats,” you warned.

You drove straight to the warehouse. The sound of your foot against the pedal and Donovan groaning quietly in the seat beside you, every bump had him sounding like a soundboard noise in pain.

When you pulled up and parked, you got out and walked to the other side. Ripped the door open and grabbed him by the collar again, hauling him out.

Rai stood near the entrance, cigarette between his fingers, already waiting. You tossed Donovan forward like trash day came early. “Here’s your boy,” you said, dusting your hands off. “He’ll need a doctor. Or don’t. Up to you.”

Rai blinked, exhaled smoke through his nose. “Broken wrist?”

“And both arms.”

“…Damn.” You just rolled your eyes. “Next time he pulls this shit, I’ll break his legs too.”

You spit right beside him, the metallic taste of blood leaving your mouth as you went over to the car to get your bag and walk home.

Two weeks went by, and Sophia could admit that everything had been going smoothly. You were both down to the final stretch of your project, with only the acting portion left to do at the end of the month.

And safe to say… she’d started liking having you around. Maybe not in a head-over-heels romantic way, but there was definitely something there. That she even believed to be mutual, especially in the way she would catch you staring sometimes.

She even caught herself changing in a way she wasn’t expecting.

Every time you came over, Sophia found herself preparing like she was about to go on a date instead of a project. She’d hop in the shower the second she got home, scrubbing her skin like she needed to get rid of every spec of dirt she felt on her body. Then she’d do her hair, careful to make it look effortless, like it was naturally that way, but still stylish. 

Her regular routine makeup would then follow next making her look much fresher rather than looking like the school air attacked her throughout the day. A touch more gloss, a little more highlight on her cheekbones. She’d make sure her lips looked much more plump to the point they were kissable.

And the comfy clothes got... comfier. Sweatpants were replaced with booty shorts that clung onto her thighs, tank tops cropped shorter with thinner fabric, just enough to maybe catch her bra peeking through.

Still, even with all that effort, seducing you wasn’t exactly the priority. That wasn’t what was on her mind when you were around.

Because during those late-night sessions and snacks in her house library, Sophia started noticing small things. The kind most people wouldn’t catch unless they were looking too closely.

Like the faint bruises, hidden under a layer of foundation, where a bluish shadow near your jaw could be seen. The purplish-yellow spots that faded around your knuckles. Tiny cuts near the corners of your lips, sometimes barely noticeable unless you stare blatantly at your lips.

She wasn’t stupid; you were clearly getting into fights. Multiple at that, and from the way you moved, you didn’t want her to notice.

Sophia knew better than to ask anyways. You weren’t close enough for her to pry, and she wasn’t sure what answer she’d even want from you if she did.

She wasn’t even sure if she should be concerned… because you being roughed up was the reason why this sexual attraction came up in the first place. Like Lara said, you were ten times hotter, and it almost made her feel guilty.

Sophia should act like a normal human being and care, maybe even ask if you were okay, but it just never came out.

While you sat cross-legged on the chair, scribbling down notes for the script, Sophia’s mind had drifted somewhere else. Once you glanced up, you caught her staring blankly at her laptop screen, eyebrows lightly pinched like she was deep in thought, but definitely not about the project.

Leaning forward slightly, you tilted your head to get closer to her line of sight. “Miss Sophia the First?” you asked, your voice teasing, just inches from her face.

She jolted in her seat, eyes growing wide. “Jesus,” she muttered, trying to play it off while she raked her fingers through her hair, smoothing it down even if it didn’t even need fixing.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you chuckled, watching her fiddle around longer than anticipated. “You didn’t,” she insisted, brushing it off way too quickly.

You tilted your head, unconvinced but amused. “Right. Totally.”

She kept her eyes on the screen, but you could feel something looming in the back of her mind. You weren’t sure if she wanted to talk about it, but you didn’t see the harm in asking.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked, leaning back, casually counting off the instances in your head. “This is what? The fifth time you’ve spaced out today?”

“It’s nothing,” she said with a quick shake of her head, though you could see whatever was still weighing in her mind through her hardened face.

“Nothing, in girl code,” you said, tapping your pen against your knee, “means there’s absolutely something. So spit it out, Lafortezza.”

She sighed like she didn’t want to ask. “What do you do for work?” she finally said, voice a bit too quick, the question had been rehearsed in her head several times before she just spat it out of her system.

You blinked at the sudden change. It wasn’t a surprise to normal people. You hadn’t exactly been subtle with the bruises. The makeup was there mainly for professors, so Sophia wasn’t who you were hiding it from.

“Just some dangerous stuff,” you answered vaguely, offering a shrug like it was no big deal.

“Is it boxing?”

“No.”

“Wrestling?”

“No.”

“Are you selling drugs?”

You snorted, caught so off guard by that one, you nearly gave yourself whiplash trying to look at her. “What—? No, Sophia. I’m not selling drugs.”

She frowned, her concern written all over her face. “Then why are you hurt every day?”

Her voice was softer this time, in a more careful tone. You felt your heartbeat quickening as her eyes searched yours. That worry she voiced was real as her eyes pleaded.

“I just work in a dangerous environment, Sophia. I promise, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But what if you get hurt… like really hurt next time?” she asked, rubbing at her arm like she was comforting herself as much as she was asking the question. You smiled gently, touched by the concern. “Then I’ll deal with it,” you said. “This is the work I chose to do. So whatever happens, I have to handle it.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes dropping. She knew you were old enough to make your own decisions, but still, seeing the aftermath of whatever life you were living made her stomach twist a little more each time.

The secret was how it also riled her up, the vibe causing her to find you even sexier than the first time her eyes laid on you.

“I get it,” she murmured, backing off, letting it settle.

There was a pause before she cleared her throat, trying to move on. “Uhm, Lara’s having a party this weekend.”

You raised a brow. “Are you just telling me… or are you inviting me?”

She immediately started waving her hands in a panic, the words tumbling out fast. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come!” You burst out laughing at her reaction, watching her release a huff into a pout. “I’d love to go. Just text me the details.”

A soft little “yeah” slipped from her lips, her face still slightly pink as she turned her attention back to the script, trying to bury her fluster in the keyboard.

You scooted your chair closer, peering over her shoulder to read what she was typing. The chair let out a small creak, and you leaned in without thinking, voice near her ear.

“Are all the stage directions written down?”

Sophia froze, her fingers pausing mid-keystroke. You were so close, like a literal inch from her face. Close enough that she could smell your perfume, which smelled of citrus, and feel the faint brush of your breath against her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she managed, voice shaky as her hands started fumbling across the keys. So much typing, backspacing, retyping again.

“And all the notes are in?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool. Email it in, then we’re done.”

There was a lightness in your voice that she hadn’t heard before. A kind of happiness she had never realized you were capable of expressing.

But then a thought hit her, this was almost over. The project, the only way to see you every day, the shared late nights, the quiet moments, and the banter were all about to end. After this, you’d go back to your usual schedule. Showing up in school only when it was necessary, and seeing you every now and then in the school’s common area instead of sitting next to you in class.

Sophia didn’t want that, and inviting you to Lara’s party was only a step into seeing you more often out of a serious setting. It was a way to keep you around, but only for one night, and that wasn’t enough.

She had to find another way. A way that made it clear she wanted to see you more, and hoped that maybe you wanted to see her more, too.

The two of you kept working, in silence, as you reached the final stretch. Luckily, just before the clock hit 10 PM, the document was attached to a quick email, your name typed on the subject line, and sent off to your professor for the night.

You started packing up your things in a slow manner, your hands moving absentmindedly as your attention drifted to Sophia. She closed her laptop and let out a quiet sigh, sliding down in her chair until her head leaned back and lightly touched the backrest.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” you asked, the words slipping out without thinking.

She turned to look at you, caught off guard for a second. You couldn’t see her struggling not to say something like ‘oh, just lying in bed and texting the group chat about you.’

“I might watch a movie?” she finally spoke. “I’m not too tired yet.” You nodded, slinging a strap of your bag over your shoulder. “It is Friday. I’ll probably knock out later than usual anyway.”

“What are you planning on watching?” you asked, finishing up the last zipper of your bag. Sophia, not prepared for a follow-up question, blurted out the first movie that popped into her mind. “Train to Busan.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her. “Train to Busan?”

She gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. You thought it seemed a little out of character for her, not seeing her as the horror type, but you did love that movie.

“That’s actually one of my favorite zombie movies,” you said with a hint of surprise in your tone. She perked up instantly, straightening in her chair. “You like zombie movies?” You nodded, sliding your phone into your pocket. “It’s one of my favorite genres for movies and shows. Like ‘Kingdom?’ Top tier.”

Her whole face lit up at the mention of the show. “I love ‘Kingdom’ too!”

You smile at her enthusiasm. “Well, maybe we can rewatch it together sometime.” She paused. Then, immediately asks, “Are you busy tonight?”

You shook your head, brow furrowing slightly at the sudden question. “Not really. Why?”

“Then why don’t you stay for a while?” she offered. “We can watch ‘Train to Busan’ tonight. ‘Kingdom’ can be for another day.”

You could tell she was trying not to sound too excited, but there was a look in her eyes that told you she really hoped you'd say yes. And honestly, you were pleased with the invite. You didn’t have any work tonight, so a quiet night in didn’t sound bad at all.

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Sophia stood up, stretching her arms up, and began to exit the library. Without hesitation, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled down the quiet hallway. "Can someone bring up ramen and mango juice again?!" she called out.

Her voice echoed down the hall before you heard a muffled ‘okay’ from the lower level of the house. Sophia turned back to you with a smirk. "Hope you can handle spice."

You scoffed, raising a brow. "I can." There was a tone of confidence that just made her grin wider. "Alright then! Add the whole packet of spicy sauce to both!" she shouted once more.

Then she led you to her room, walking further down the corridor. You trailed behind her, and the faint sounds of your footsteps could be heard until she opened a large white door. "Come on in."

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the soft scent of… jasmine? It’s subtle enough that taking a deep breath wouldn’t hurt your head. Your eyes begin to scan the room, seeing a minimalist aesthetic to it. The walls were a pure white, not a speck of dirt in sight. Some greenery in grey stone pots added some color to the room. 

Against one wall was a large vanity with a bunch of bulbs surrounding the mirror, its table full of high-end makeup brands and gold-handled brushes that were organized. It looked like a luxurious beauty store. A plush light pink egg chair is placed in front of it, and it looks extremely comfy.

Across the entrance of the room, her bed stands out from the entire space. It was king-sized, with a modern bedframe in white. Champagne-colored satin sheets shining due to the lights. Lying over the top was a massive, fluffy comforter in a baby blue that looked like it could swallow. The pillows were fluffed, unlike your wilting, lifeless pillows at home.

Facing the bed directly was a large flat-screen TV that was mounted on the wall. It legit looked like a Pinterest picture in real life. You couldn’t help but wonder if this room was purely for sleep or if she actually hung out in it like a normal person.

"Take a seat. Get comfy," she said, already sliding into the bed. She sank beneath her comforter with her head slightly peeking out while her hands reached for the remote like muscle memory.

She looked cute, but that wasn’t something that would come out of your mouth. Not to Sophia at least… yet.

You hesitated for a second before sitting on the edge of the bed, rigid and upright, looking stiff as a board. You didn’t know how to relax in a space this expensive. You were JUST getting used to the library after coming around for two weeks. Maybe you should’ve assumed every room you walked into would feel like a different dimension in the large house.

Sophia didn’t notice at first as she scrolled through the variety of movies and shows, finally clicking on Train to Busan. The lights had already been turned off before the movie started with the use of a damn remote, the only light now beaming from the large screen.

You stayed sitting like that for a good ten minutes, which you were somewhat used to since you would stand in front of Rai that way during reports to him. 

The room was quiet except for the movie, and you watched, but it wasn’t really registering. Because your focus kept drifting to how warm and soft the bed was under you. Meanwhile, Sophia was already snuggling in the comforter. 

Eventually, she side-eyed you and sighed. Your tense posture was physically stressing her out. You looked like you were about to fall off her bed and march out of the room.

"You look like you’re about to fall off," she said, deadpan.

You looked over at her, meeting her gaze briefly before looking back at the TV. "I’m good." She raised a brow, “You’re sitting like I’m gonna bite you.”

"I’m fine," you repeat, but your tone didn’t help you at all.

“Lie back,” she told you, her soft voice sounding like she’s coaxing you, and it was working. You hesitated because something about getting comfortable in her space felt... weird. Like the moment you let your guard down, it would change whatever dynamic you and Sophia had going on.

But you leaned back slowly after taking off your shoes, back finally pressing into the fluffy comforter. Your body feels like it melted straight into the bed. Your legs stretched out beside hers, your brain hyper-aware of where her body was, like a foot away from you under the covers.

Across both your faces, flashes flickered, in what felt like every scene of the movie, as the tensions began rising. People were starting to notice things were off as screams began to come from the back of the train. You could hear the sound of glass breaking and the frantic thump of feet as people ran. The moment always entertained you, no matter how many times it was watched.

You loved it because to you, this was ‘pure cinema.’

Sophia hadn’t moved much, but every now and then, you felt the comforter shift. What you didn’t know was her adjusting to get sneaky glances of you.

You stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, and didn’t say anything. Just as you got used to the position, the door cracked open, and one of the maids came in. She carried a large wooden tray in her hands, two steaming bowls of buldak noodles, and two glasses of mango juice with chopsticks beside them.

"Thank you," Sophia whispered as the tray was set beside the side table near her. She passed you one of the porcelain bowls with chopsticks. Both of you now sitting up as you ate, and the occasional sounds of slurping and coughing from Sophia could be heard.

She was the first to break the silence, reaching for her mango juice after her third bite, eyes watering slightly as she coughed some more into her elbow. “Okay, damn,” she muttered, fanning her mouth. “That spice isn’t playing around.”

You kept eating like it was nothing, taking pretty large bites, and the spice didn’t faze you. Your lips were a little red, but you weren’t huffing and puffing or asking for your glass of juice. Sophia stared, eyes narrowing. “How are you not dying right now?”

You looked at her mid-bite as the noodles drooped over your bottom lips and into the bowl, giving her a simple shrug. “This isn’t that bad.”

“Mild?!” she coughed again, immediately going for another sip of mango juice. “You’re not human.”

You chuckled, setting your bowl back on the tray and asking for your own drink, NOT because it was spicy but because the spice was making you thirsty. “I told you I could handle spice. Besides, this tastes like the pink one.”

Sophia groaned dramatically, setting her bowl down on her lap and leaning back into her mountain of pillows. “You said it so confidently, but I thought you were being cocky.”

You smirked, stretching your legs a bit further under the covers. “I was being for real.”

Her eyes were watery, but she was still adding humor while in slight pain. “I feel like my tongue’s been set on fire. I’m in physical pain right now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, mixing with the low rumble of the movie’s background noise. Sophia grabbed her mango juice again while hissing to get cold air. “This better not be how I go out,” she said, taking a long sip. “Killed by ramen.”

You give a satisfied smirk, eyes flicking back to the screen. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a eulogy.”

She threw a pillow at you, missing by a mile as it shot past your head and onto the floor. “You’re literally the worst.” But she was smiling, still with tears in her eyes and the slight sweat on her brow.

Time ticked by, and the silence was there again after both of you finished the ‘bowls of pain’ in Sophia’s words. While your attention stayed mostly glued to the movie of interest, Sophia just couldn’t stop looking at you. Her eyes would glance to the side every now and watch how the TV cast a glow across your features. Highlighting your cheekbones, casting shadows along your jawline, and each scene reflecting through your eyes.

But then, the movie reached that scene.

The one where the father, Seok-woo, held his daughter close as he sacrificed himself to save her. His face was bloody and broken after everything they’d been through on the train. Then cued the slow music, adding to the drama of the scene. You had watched the movie many times, to the point where you didn’t cry during the sad moments anymore. But as you watched, you heard a soft sniffle.

You turned your head slightly, finding a single tear streaming down Sophia’s cheek, a crystal-like path layered above her skin like glass. The light from the screen made it shimmer, and oddly enough, there was something heartbreakingly beautiful about it. Her lips trembled just a little. Her brows furrowed, her subtle expression twitching every time she hitched a breath.

You didn’t even think about anything, as your body moved on its own. You push yourself over to the right and carefully lean over the upper half of her body. Gently, your thumb grazed the tear off her cheek, as your other arm settled right beside her head as you hovered over her.

Sophia’s eyes widened, lashes fluttering as her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing would come out properly.

Your hand, for some reason, caressed her cheek and kept its spot. Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing the side of her jaw now as neither of you looked away. Sophia was scared that if she did, none of this would be real.

The space between you felt thinner while the noise of the movie started becoming nothing but background sound as the two of you lay there, like time had paused.

Her breath was shallow, and yours wasn't much steadier. And in that quiet moment, her face leaned just a little closer. So did yours.

You couldn’t process pulling away, and instead, your body leaned in more comfortably as your hand lingered on her jaw, heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Then your lips connected, the soft bond of the kiss. Her lips were warm, pillowy, still tasting like a hint of mango and spice. There was a second where neither of you moved, just letting it all happen.

She tilted her head slightly, deepening it as her hand grasped your wrist, not wanting you to move away. You exhaled into the kiss, pressing in a little more as you let your body rest on top of hers, chest brushing against each other. The comforter shifted between your bodies as the two of you kept tilting heads wanting more, the flicker of the movie dancing across your closed lids and warm skin.

There felt like a shared illusion that time was holding still. Sophia’s thumb grazed along the inside of your wrist, slowly trailing down to your waist. Her breath was warm against your skin when the kiss finally softened again, slowing but not stopping, like neither of you knew how to break away from each other.

But then the TV let out a scream, maybe a line of dialogue, and just like that, you pulled away. You were both catching your breath, lying back down into your original positions as you stared at the screen with heavy breaths filling each other's ears.

Neither of you said a word.

Sophia swallowed hard, eyes staring back at the screen as if nothing had happened, but her mind was clearly spinning. She wanted to ask or say something, like wanting to know what it meant, if anything. But she felt tongue-tied as her body remained still, as if she could pretend it didn’t just happen… or that it did, and she was still in it.

You couldn’t handle the silence or the weight that began to settle on your chest.

It felt like everything happened so fast. One moment you were watching, the next you were eating, then you were sucking each others faces off. For once, the confidence left your body, and you didn’t know how to function… and that in itself scared you more than any fight you had ever been in.

So, after a moment, you sat up. The warmth of the comforter was gone, and the shift in weight on the bed made Sophia subtly flinch as you stood up from your spot.

“I should head out,” you said, your voice trying to sound calm.

Sophia nodded, her expression unreadable. She wanted to say something to make you stay, or just talk about it, but nothing right came out. “Okay,” she said quietly, almost like it hurt to respond.

You grabbed your bag with unsure hands, walking toward the door like the air had turned thicker around you. You couldn’t even dare look back at her because you felt like a wuss for not speaking up for yourself.

Your thoughts were everywhere. Confusion and hope that almost made you start hyperventilating as you walked out of the room. Hope that Sophia feels it too, maybe of you not ruining something by crossing a line.

The hallway felt colder on the way out as your fingers clenched the strap of your bag tighter than usual, trying to stop thinking about it. But Sophia basically imprinted herself in your mind, her breath, her lips, the way she didn’t pull away.

Meanwhile, Sophia sat there long after you were gone, as the movie's ending credits began running. Her lips still tingled while admitting to herself that she wanted more. That much was obvious.

But she didn’t know what you wanted. And she was afraid to ask. Because rejection wasn’t scary. If anything, it was a part of life, but rejection from you made her assume it would crush her and take a long time to recover.

Her fingers brushed the spot you’d been just moments ago, where the warmth of your body still lingered even with a blasting AC in her room. It was stupid to hold onto it, because maybe the kiss was just a kiss.

Her thumb moved up toward her lips, pressing against the bottom softly—still able to feel the phantom weight of yours on them. 

She’d tried to make herself more noticeable, choosing risque ways like skimpier outfits at home, applying thick coats of gloss. But she hadn’t expected it to work, and had you kissed her in a way that felt so natural. Not how it somehow made her breath catch in her throat.

But what hit her harder than the kiss itself was how fast you left. The feeling was too much.

Sophia turned her head toward the TV again, only to realize the movie had ended and was now stuck on the menu. Her heart still beating quickly for her to even care, so she turns off the TV to let her thoughts simmer.

Maybe she’d misread everything. A heat-of-the-moment type of deal. But it didn’t feel that way when you wiped her tears and stayed hovering just inches over hers, gaze flicking between her lips and eyes like you couldn’t decide what part of her to focus on.

…Yeah, no matter what way Sophia tried to twist the narrative in her head, it just wasn’t helping her feelings. In fact, it was driving her mad in the way she tried denying her blooming crush for you.

She sighs, turning over to bury her face into the pillow that still smells faintly of you. Sophia knew she wasn’t going to sleep right away as she kept replaying the way you looked at her right before the kiss, and the way your breathing stuttered for half a second after your lips brushed hers.

You, on the other hand, speed walked without even thinking about what direction your legs were taking you at first. You weren’t the type to run away from your feelings. Especially, not when someone had just kissed you like that, and not when it felt that good.

Hell, you had made out with Manon multiple times, and that surely felt good. Even going way further than kisses, to her being completely undressed beside you.

But your head was spinning, and you didn’t know what to do with it. The chill of the night didn’t even bother you. Instead, it was waking you up, helping calm your body down before you could spiral any more.

You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, heart still racing as you walked through the quieter streets of town and down the block toward your place.

The memory of her lips on yours wouldn’t go away, not even for a second. Yet you didn’t want it to.

Even stepping into your house didn’t do much. The usual clanking of your dad’s alcoholism would usually have you feeling irritated as your mother tried acting as if everything was normal, but you just walked upstairs to your room and shut your door.

Swinging your back against the wall, you took off your jacket and crashed onto your bed while your knees hung off the side. You were usually better at controlling yourself. It was quite literally part of your job to do so, or else you would go insane with the possibility of beating someone to death.

She didn’t know what kind of life you lived. Yeah, she was smart enough to figure out bits and pieces, but not the full scope of things. 

You were okay with being friends with her, but her getting involved with you could be dangerous. It made you think of the way you woke up sometimes with blood still under your nails, or how your ribs still ached if you pressed on them wrong. Even aspects of your life at home.

It was something you didn’t ever want to burden anyone with. The job and school were your escape for that reason.

So a kiss like that would scare the hell out of you. Because it felt too good and with a pristine person, which didn’t make you feel any better.

You hadn’t even said goodnight, and it made you want to punch yourself. 

‘What the hell am I gonna do?’

It had been five long days since you left Sophia’s room and shut the door. You couldn’t even fathom returning to school after that Friday. You did not want to avoid her, but also couldn’t fathom seeing her or saying anything.

Luckily, you were known to not show up on campus unless something important needed to be done, and there were two weeks before performances were happening. So, you stuck to what you knew best. Instead of staying home like a regular person, faking a sickness, or lying about classes to their parents, you buried yourself in work.

Rai didn’t question the sudden amounts of availability in your schedule. If anything, this was something that would work in his favor, giving you many of the dangerous jobs with your high success rates. It was basically back to normal, the late nights, money exchanges, and bloodied knuckles. One of the things on the list of priorities you’d have would be stopping by campus, and sliding assignments under the professor’s office doors in manila folders with your name neatly written across the top. 

You’d show up for about twenty minutes max, showing up to about six offices around the building, then go right back to the warehouse. Sometimes you’d sit around pretending to read, headphones in, jaw clenched tight enough to pop as your mind drifted to space.

Trying to get Sophia out of your head was literally mission impossible. It seemed like everywhere you looked or focused, on reminded you of her. Which made you want to scream at yourself because some things were just so far-fetched, your mind just clinging onto the idea of her.

Like when you saw a bunch of teens eating ice cream, one of them having a tall strawberry cone while walking home. THE COLOR PINK WAS MAKING YOU THINK OF HER.

So, you thought of distracting yourself in another way, and it was by doing what you were best at.

Hitting people, who deserve it, of course, extremely hard. And now with thoughts spiraling in your head, you lacked a tad bit of self-control, which was out of the norm for you.

But it seemed like out of the norm was the pattern for the past few weeks.

So when Thursday night hit the calendar, you and Manon had a drop scheduled at one of Rai’s partner clubs. These were clubs Rai did business with caution and the safety of his employees. This one in particular was one of those neon-lit places that always smelled like sweat, money, and a lot of perfume since women seemed to like the aesthetic of the place. 

It wasn’t your favorite location, preferring the clubs that took place on rooftops for fresh air, but this was a job that had to be done. It was all about business anyways.

Manon wore a black halter mini dress in the color black that looked sleek and showed enough skin, just the way Rai preferred her to wear during these meetings. You hated that part because even with the friends-with-benefits dynamic going on, she is still your friend. The men who bought from your boss rarely treated the transaction like it was purely business with you, now could you even imagine how Manon’s transactions would go with those kinds of men?

Your eyes were sharp the moment you walked in, trailing behind her so the customer wouldn’t notice, watching every movement of the client she was meeting. Rai had given you the rundown on this guy. He’s a new possible client and is trying out the product for the first time. Apparently, just a curious rich brat from uptown looking to "feel something real."

Well, you weren’t liking what he was beginning to feel. Although even if this place was one of Rai’s business partners, it was still open to the general public—no moves were made by you.

It started with him leaning in too close, whispering some things to her in her ear as she visibly shudders at the feeling of his breath, and not in a good way. He chuckled too much as he made obscure gestures with his hands.

Then he moved it to her hip, and you watched her shift uncomfortably. Manon gave a visibly forced laugh, eyes flicking up to you as she subtly took a step to the side to try and create some distance between them. The small look wouldn’t have been caught by him, but you noticed.

Your jaw locked as your knuckles twitched into a fist. She gave you the same look that she usually did when she figured a guy was gonna be a problem. So when you see her locking eyes with you, you give her the smallest nod and look over to the back. Manon received it well and knew what she had to do.

She played it perfectly by smiling sweetly, murmuring something about somewhere quieter. He followed, like the idiot you assumed he was. Guys like this were drunk on their own audacity instead of alcohol.

You followed behind them, and one of the club’s bouncers glanced your way, then looked away just as fast. Rai’s reputation was enough to keep people from asking questions. That and the fact that he paid the club well for instances like this.

Once Manon lured him into the narrow hallway near the back storage room, she stopped walking. He turned to face her, a tipsy grin on his face, thinking he was about to get lucky tonight.

That’s when you march past the two of them, grabbing him by the collar in the process as you walk further back.

Before he could get a word out, you slammed him into the wall. His head thudded hard enough to echo.

"Hey! What the—"

Your fist cut him off, a punch landing across his jaw. The second one then hit his nose hard, and it was too quick for him to even react properly. You didn’t stop, and without hesitation, your fists began a vicious beatdown on him. Like every thought about Sophia—the memory of her laugh, the way she looked at you before you kissed her, the sting of her silence after—was fueling each hit.

Blood began coating your knuckles, even staining your arm and the collar of your shirt as he jerked around after each hit. He tried to block it, tried to sputter out some sorrys, but you didn’t care to stop.

"Don’t ever—" You landed another punch. "—touch her—" And another. "—like that again."

It wasn’t even about Manon anymore. It was about every second of that kiss haunting you. The time that passed while pretending it didn’t mean anything when it meant so fucking much.

Eventually, Manon stepped forward, her voice cutting through the haze. "Okay. That’s enough."

You didn’t hear her.

"Hey—hey," she grabbed your wrist, firm but not rough. "It’s done. Come on." You were breathing hard, the man slumped on the floor, face engulfed in swollen flesh, with blood dripping from his nose and mouth. His groans were low, incoherent, and you looked down at your hand, bloodied and trembling slightly, then at Manon.

Her face wasn’t even angry, just worried.

You stayed silent, fists still balled, adrenaline pulsing as she led you through the back exit of the establishment. Manon looked over at you, eyebrows raised. "You good?" You exhaled through your nose, finally letting your muscles relax. "Yeah."

She tilted her head slightly. "You’ve been hitting harder lately."

"Just needed to let something out."

Her eyes lingered on you for a second too long. She knew you well by now and knew that even if someone touched her that way, you wouldn’t beat them almost half to death. This was about something completely different. 

You hated that even now, in the middle of blood and bruises, you still thought about Sophia. Because now, you were beginning to feel dirty when mixing those thoughts. She was too precious in comparison to the lifestyle you lived.

Manon did her best to lead you through the parking lot toward the car without anyone seeing you. If anyone did, they would call the cops at the slightest look at your hand. You willingly get into the driver's seat and start the car even before Manon takes a seat in the passenger seat.

Before moving, you get some baby wipes out of the center console, wiping all the fluid off your hands. Then you move the gear shift and begin reversing out of the spot before driving back to the warehouse.

The ride back was quiet, you had one hand on the wheel, the other still stained with dried blood, wrapped loosely in a towel, Manon kept in the glovebox. She was able to put it on during a red light, seeing your hands looking incredibly swollen as your veins popped through.

She waited a minute before speaking. "You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?" You didn’t answer. "You don’t usually go that far… unless something’s seriously eating you." You gritted your teeth. Eyes locked on the road.

"It’s Sophia, isn’t it?"

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She exhaled, not surprised at the name, but surprised at how much the woman affected you. "Did something happen?"

You didn’t say anything again. "Let me guess," she continued. "Something did. And now you’re pretending it didn’t." Your consistent silence was enough confirmation. Manon shifted in her seat to face you better, her voice softer this time.

"You don’t have to tell me the whole story. But whatever it is, bottling it up and using some poor bastard’s face as a punching bag isn’t gonna help."

You finally spoke, barely above a whisper. "I kissed her." Manon looked confused but tried to understand. "Okay."

"And then I left. Didn’t say anything. Haven’t talked to her since." She nodded slowly, processing. "Did she kiss you back?" You hesitated. Then nodded.

"Then why are you running from it like it’s a goddamn plague?"

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t have an answer you liked. "Because it felt like something," you admitted, voice tight. "And I wasn’t ready for that." Manon sighed, leaning back comfortably against the seat. "Life is all about never being ready for things like that, Y/n. You know that better than I do."

The rest of the drive passed in silence again. When you finally pulled into the lot outside the warehouse, Manon reached for the door but stopped.

"You should talk to her. Before it starts eating you alive, please. Miss Sophia may have won you over, but you're still my friend, and I care about you." You barely give her a nod, but she saw it.

“Good. Let me know when you do, because I want to hear all about the woman who was successful enough to have your heart in a bunch.”

She shuts the door, and you now begin sitting back, thinking about Manon’s advice. Seeing her likely was the best course of action, so you decide to face your problems head-on, like you usually do. You were going to talk to her at the party.

On Friday, you took the opportunity to give Rai a heads up, not be able to come in the next. You didn’t even have to tell him anything, you're still young and he knows the way ‘the youngins’ think, his words, not yours.

After work, you went home, just to lie in bed and think about everything that happened. Your thoughts were just a bunch of storms in your head, which almost got you to sleep for the night. But then you heard a loud crash of glass, followed by a woman’s voice yelling at the top of her lungs.

You jumped up immediately, mainly hoping your sister wasn’t anywhere near it since she would be home for the weekend. The second you cracked open your bedroom door, you saw Zaria, your seventeen-year-old sister, standing at the top of the steps, just listening to all the chaos coming from downstairs.

“Hey, why don’t you just wait in the room just in case?” you said gently, because yelling and making her do it wouldn’t help at all. She nodded without a word, already knowing the drill. If your dad saw her, she’d get dragged into it too, and you wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

You waited until her door shut, then crept down the stairs, trying to assess the situation. The crash was your dad falling straight onto the glass coffee table. Now it shattered beneath him, and he was clearly drunk as he lay there limp.

Meanwhile, your mother looked like she was in the middle of having an episode. It probably started as soon as he walked through the front door, triggering something from an old argument.

You rush back up and into their bedroom and grab her medication, your hands moving without even thinking due to muscle memory. When you ran back downstairs, she looked at you with eyes wide and on edge, but you gave her the softest smile you could manage.

“Mom, it’s time for your medicine, okay?”

At first, she shook her head no furiously, backing away slightly, but you’d been through this before. It was exhaustion and fear that made her uncooperative. In a gentle voice, you tell her, “Once you take these, you can go to bed. I’ll deal with Dad.”

You held out the pills in the palm of your hand, and after a long moment, she finally nodded.

“Alright,” she murmured, taking them and washing them down with water from the cup on the counter. Like a switch flipped in her head, she turned and headed upstairs, her movements a little shaky but steady enough.

You followed the walk under the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and stood there, just staring at your father. Laid out across broken glass, out cold and acting like his useless self. At least there wouldn’t be yelling or any violence tonight. You sighed, rolled up your sleeves, and began fixing what you could.

It took all your strength to lift his heavy body and dump him onto the couch. He groaned at his landing, but you ignored it. Your only priority was to clean up the mess he made because it was going to be an eyesore.

You headed to a storage closet and pulled out a clear plastic trash bag. It was one of the unused ones for recycling plastic and metal. You picked up the larger shards of glass by hand, moving carefully, then grabbed the broom to sweep up the rest from the wooden floor.

You made a mental note to remind your mom and Zaria to wear slippers around the house until you could mop and vacuum again—just in case. After tossing the shards into the recycling bin outside, you finally trudged back upstairs and lay down, eyes wide open, trying your best to just breathe. 

You guessed it was enough to go to bed, because the next morning, you woke up abruptly from the sound of a large truck honking past your house.

Before realizing how much time had passed, you’d already taken a long shower, just relaxing your tense body against the hot water. You did some light makeup, mostly to cover the remnants of past fights still on your skin. The coverage is just enough to make you look more lively. Then you changed into something comfy but stylish enough not to look like your normal plain self.

Your phone buzzed just as you were tying your shoes.

Sophia see u there *location pin dropped*

You blinked at the message, no “hey,” or “r u still coming?” Her playful emojis weren’t there, causing the nerves to rack up as you stared at the address. Tapping on the pin she sent, you realize the party was happening just a few blocks from her place. You should’ve guessed that was the case since her friends are theeeeee rich girls on campus.

At least it’s a route you've come to be familiar with.

You walked down the warehouse to text Rai about borrowing a car again. Luckily, this man never cared due to the number of cars he owned, because he just gave you a thumbs up as a response. You chose the BMW you had used previously, and forty minutes later, you were pulling into the neighborhood, as you looked for the right house. You didn’t have to look hard, though.

Cars were already lined up along the front entrance of a house and even into the spacious lawn. Everyone parked like they were playing Tetris, and you knew it was going to be a pain to leave your spot, so you opted for a spot outside of the gate. Music was vibrating faintly through the pavement from the outside of the house. You then rolled up the windows all the way before parking, trying to psych yourself up while your stomach rolled with nerves.

The house itself reminded you of a modern version of Sophia’s home with the white, grey, and black colors spanning across the exterior of the house. Seemed like a rentable Airbnb for parties like this, but you could only assume this was actually Lara’s home.

A guard stood by the front door… of course, there was a guard. He didn’t move at first, just stared you down until you got closer. Then he glanced at his clipboard. “Name?”

You almost laughed, the moment feeling ridiculous like you were on a job at one of those nightclubs. But you said your name anyway, half-expecting to be turned away because this just wasn’t your kind of scene.

The parties you were used to were the ones at Rai’s warehouse, when all coworkers would become friends for the night.

Instead of being turned away, he gave a short nod and stepped aside. “You’re on the list.”

Of course you were. Sophia probably pulled some strings on that list. When stepping inside, immediately hit by the overwhelming bass of the loud music, scents of perfume, sweat, and weed mixing in the air. People were going in every direction, some teens doing shots in their little corner, guys doing way too much on the dance floor, and girls holding up their phones under the colorful lights to get the perfect angle for their stories. 

You had to blink a few times to adjust to everything happening.

Your job is probably much more chaotic, but it isn’t chaotic fun like this. This was much more anxiety-inducing than you expected. You took one step forward, and even before you could make any sensible movement, “Holy shit.” A blur of movement, as someone bumped into you, then paused. Sophia told you a bit about her friends for you to be able to recognize the younger girl, Megan.

Her wide eyes flicked over your face, a grin stretching across her lips. “Wait. Wait, Y/n?” You gave a half-smile. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t seen you for some time, Dani looks a bit lonely surrounded by all the dance majors,” she joked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” you said, chuckling once under your breath. She glanced around, then leaned in a bit. “Looking for Sophia?” You hesitated. “Sort of. But a drink would be nice first.”

“Kitchen’s through there,” she pointed down a hallway to your left. “Fridge is stocked with beers, seltzers, and everything.”

“Noted,” you nodded, already making your way through the crowd. You weave between people like until you reach the kitchen, which was still full, but not as packed as the main room. At least it had lighting that didn’t make you feel like you were in a music video. You tugged the fridge open, eyes skimming past lines of beers and hard seltzers.

None were for your taste, not exactly a big fan of the strong liquors. Then, rows of Buzzballs were near the bottom shelf. You grabbed one instantly, flipping the small blue ball-shaped can in your hand. Better than whatever beer and other options were in there. It was at least sweet to cut through the alcohol.

You cracked it open, letting the fizz rise, then took a long sip. It was helping the heavy feeling on your chest relieve itself, even if it was still there. You then begin looking around, realizing that somewhere in the crowd was the woman you came here for.

Sophia wasn’t the type to check her phone obsessively. At least, not until this past week.

When she sent you the text a few hours ago, she caught herself unlocking the screen just to stare at the “read” receipt under her last message, and she hated the feeling. Sophia Laforteza wasn’t someone who got nervous; if anything, she was headstrong.

But when she saw the little “read at 7:09 PM,” she clutched her cranberry vodka a little tighter. School should’ve been normal, she literally only met you recently. Yet every class was a blur, the corridors felt much emptier, and even her friends couldn’t get her out of the rut she was in. Sophia wasn’t able to focus on anything properly, and Miss Perfect was showing signs of cracking because of you.

Lara and Yoonchae were in their own little world beside her, laughing at something stupid, and for a second, Sophia managed a ghost of a smile. Then Megan appeared out of nowhere, swinging her drink around with so much energy as she leaned in.

“Guess who I just saw,” she grinned, her voice practically teasing. Lara was the first to bite. “Oh no. Who?” Megan swirled the cup, teasing the girls a bit. “Y/n.”

Sophia blinked, confused for a second until it hit her. Her heart did that annoying skip it always did when it came to you, and her eyes darted to Megan like they needed confirmation. “You saw her?” she asked, way too quickly.

Megan nodded, grinning widely. “She went to the kitchen and grabbed a Buzzball. Looked hot, by the way.”

Sophia couldn’t breathe for a second until Lara nudged her gently. Yoonchae, all sweet and too observant when it comes to the older, smiled knowingly. “I think someone’s happy.”

“I’m—” Sophia tried to speak, but her throat felt dry. She took another sip from her red solo cup, but it didn’t help.

What if you were just there for the party? To let loose, escape your job for the night. Meanwhile, you had just finished chugging the last of your first Buzzball, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Your shoulders are now less tense, making the haze of bodies and loud music less suffocating.

You reached back into the fridge and grabbed another. If you were gonna do this tonight, you needed all the liquid courage you could get. You popped it open and muttered to yourself, “Alright. You can do this. No big deal. Just a conversation.”

Just a conversation with the girl you kissed. Who hadn’t texted you anything else all week… Yeah, just a conversation. 

You stepped back into the crowd, scanning. Eyes weaving past couples who were grinding and suckin each other's faces off, people playing drinking games, someone hesitantly trying to do a backflip while people cushioned him. But then, just past the ‘dance floor,’ you saw her.

Sophia was in black jeans and a sleeveless cropped hoodie, holding a red cup while her hair was styled in that effortless, slightly messy ponytail that made your heart quicken because she looked that good without trying.

She looked up and saw you.

Just her eyes locking with yours, widening just a bit. Her eyes were so hopeful, and you could feel it from across the room. So you started walking before you could overthink anything. When you reached her, you didn’t waste time pretending, just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey,” you said. “Can we talk? Somewhere quieter.”

Her voice caught a little, but she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She grabbed your hand lightly, barely even touching you, and led you upstairs. You kept your eyes forward while she didn’t even look back, but her grip on your hand was telling enough.

Past the noise, the crowds of people, she opened a door to what looked like a spare bedroom. Unused with lights that were dim… a little moody actually, and once she stepped inside with you, she turned the lock behind her.

There wasn’t complete silence, but neither of you had spoken up yet. The bass of the music still vibrated through the floorboards, muffling everyone who yelled over the music. You could kind of hear her exhale. Hear the sounds of your drinks as you both sipped at the same time, nerves kicking all over again.

She stood near the dresser while you hovered near the edge of the bed. Neither of you moved an inch, but you wanted to get this over with. Manon was right, you were going to face the problem and end it, so you wouldn’t go crazy.

“I didn’t come here for the party,” you said, finally meeting her eyes. Sophia’s fingers tightened a bit around her cup. “I mean, technically I did,” you added. “But not for this party. I didn’t even plan on drinking.” You glanced at your half-empty Buzzball. “Clearly that didn’t last.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, but it faded quickly. “I came because of you,” you continued, heart pounding against your chest as you finally let out those words. “Because I’ve been trying not to think about that night. But that’s... not really working out for me.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, her breath shallow. She looked like she wanted to interrupt, but she held back her tongue, wanting to hear what you had to say for yourself. “I didn’t know if it meant something to you. I didn’t even know what it meant to me at first. But I keep replaying it in my head several times a day. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since—even with you right in front of me.”

You laughed a bit, sounding dry and nervous. “I guess I just... needed to know if I was the only one feeling that way.”

Sophia finally moved then, stepping a little closer. Her eyes searched your face like she was making sure this was all reality and not her dreams. “You’re not,” she whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

And for a second, the tension grew stronger as she came a bit closer to you. She placed her cup down on the dresser, then reached out, brushing her fingers against yours.

“You left,” she said. “After that night, I waited every day for something. Anything even, because I thought I did something wrong.”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You make me nervous.” 

“Good,” she murmured, stepping even closer. “You drive me crazy, you know.”

And just like that, there wasn’t much distance between the two of you anymore. It felt nice, seeing that you were getting somewhere, but your heart did feel like it was about to burst with how fast it was going.

Whatever happened next might be the liquor doing its thing, but neither of you seemed to really care. Drunk thoughts are real thoughts, right? Not that you were drunk, but the Buzzball was definitely helping this go smoothly.

Sophia’s breath hitched when your fingers brushed over hers. Her voice came out a bit louder than the first time she spoke. “You make me nervous, too.”

The confession made your chest feel tight and your skin feel too warm. You tilted your head at her, letting your hand slowly turn to lace fingers with hers. “Good,” you murmured, echoing her from earlier. “Then we’re even.”

There was a flicker in her eyes in some amusement, even maybe some disbelief. Her hand squeezed yours like she needed to make sure this was happening, that you were here, saying this, standing in this room with her, not just rushing out and disappearing again. The space between you started to shorten.

Then her eyes dropped to your lips, and back to your eyes, which could only make you feel giddy. ‘What the hell was even happening at this point?’

Sophia stepped forward, and her body was warm. You could feel the heat of her skin even with clothes still separating you. Her hand moved to your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek like she was trying to memorize your face by touch.

And then, this time, she leaned in and kissed you. This kiss wasn’t as soft as the first one; you felt that she wanted to make it worth it. After what she went through, well, what both of you went through this week, you owed it to yourselves.

You kissed her back roughly and didn't want to let her go as your hands found the sides of her waist and pulled her closer and closer, like it still wasn’t enough. Sophia moaned against your mouth, and something about the sound made you feel dizzy.

She broke the kiss only to speak against your lips, voice husky and uneven. “I thought about this. Ever since I started to get to know the real you.” You swallowed hard, forehead leaning into hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her hands sliding around the back of your neck, fingers playing with the hair at your nape. “The way you kissed me that night.”

You let out a shaky breath, pressing your body flush against hers until she backed into the edge of the dresser with her cup on it. Her hands tightened around you as her back hit the wood.

“I’ve thought about you, too.” You kissed her again, harder this time, teeth just slightly catching her bottom lip. Her nails grazed your shoulders through your clothes, and her breath hitched again.

The buildup of tension, frustration, and longing seemed to be catching up as you wanted more of her. You slowly trailed your lips to her jaw, then down to the hollow of her neck, where her skin was already warm. She gasped softly, tilting her head back against the wall. You took your time there, letting your lips graze just enough.

“Screw it,” Sophia whispered breathlessly, her voice ragged. The grin that pulled at your lips was confident. Now this was what you were known to do, but it was different. It was with someone you genuinely liked this time.

You grabbed her by the hips, lifting her onto the dresser effortlessly. She gasped again at the motion, legs parting subconsciously to make space for you between them. Her hands rested on your shoulders, and you could feel them twitching to restrain herself.

Your lips met hers again, much more heated, as one of her hands tangled in your silky hair and the other gripped your shirt like she was holding on for dear life. You let your hand travel up the outside of her thigh, tracing over the denim seam of her jeans, and felt her shiver beneath you.

Sophia’s head tilted to the side, her lips brushing over your jaw. “If you’re trying to drive me insane, congratulations,” she muttered. You chuckled low in your throat, letting your thumb slide just under the hem of her top, grazing the bare skin of her waist. “I haven’t even started yet, and you're already needy.”

She looked down at you then, breathless, eyes heavy, lips red and swollen from kissing. “Then what are you waiting for?”

That was the breaking point. You crashed your lips onto hers again with a groan, hands gripping her thighs as you pressed into her, both needing it right now.

"Can I?" you asked, voice husky, while Sophia looked messy, but she still looked gorgeous in your eyes. She nodded, but you paused with hands on her waist, "Words, baby. I need words."

As you spoke to her, she felt herself being lifted and wrapped her legs around your waist, tight as you settled her onto the large bed.

"You can," your gaze softened, lifting her arms to help her remove the cropped shirt. But there was a shift in your eyes, they darkened as you roamed over her exposed skin, taking in her tan figure that was only covered by a red lacey bra.

Now you weren’t expecting to see such a risque look, but you definitely weren’t going to ruin the moment by saying anything. "Beautiful," you whispered, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. "I can finally show you how much I need you."

You leaned in, pressing your lips on her exposed collarbone, then lower, following the lines of her abs with your mouth. She gave under your touch, the way your lips felt on her just had her melting, wanting to surrender to you completely.

"We can go as slow as you need," you mumbled against her skin, but Sophia seemed to have other plans. "I don't want slow," she admitted, pulling you closer. "I want you."

There was now a smile on your swollen lips—not a playful grin, but something much dirtier. "Then lie back on the bed and let me take care of you."

She complied, watching as you leaned back further to pull your own shirt over your head, revealing more of your tattoos scattered across your ribs and shoulders. Now crawling back onto the bed after throwing your shirt somewhere in the room, you straddle her with a confidence that made her groan at the sight of you on top of her.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," you said, leaning down to kiss her again. "I can't believe you're mine for tonight."

Your words had her shudder a bit as your hands tugged on the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, you unbutton and unzip them to undress her completely, pausing to appreciate her entire body with both your eyes and mouth. "Fucking hell," you quietly sighed as your eyes didn’t stop trailing all over her body. You lick your lips at the sight of her perky breasts.

"Tell me what you want, baby," you whispered with urgency, your breath growing heavier. "Tell me what you need." 

"You," she spat, much more controlling than intended. "Everything. Your hands. Your mouth." You smiled against her skin, "So demanding."

Your lips trailed down her body, every kiss placed softly with intention. The feeling of your fingers exploring her hips had her body feeling on fire. You would caress over every curve until you made your way to her thighs, and she gasped at the touch.

You were on her inner thighs and gave them a kiss before shifting down your entire body. Arms hook under her legs, and she feels your firm hands grip her around the thighs. You didn't even need to do much, and she already felt her core aching, "God, Y/n," she hums lowly.

"Does that feel nice?" you asked, voice breathy and teasing as your fingers traced patterns on her inner thigh. "You like it when I touch you here?"

"Yes," she whined, not even noticing how she squirmed at the feeling. "How about here?" Your fingers inched higher, feeling your fingers right beside her pussy. She whimpers again at the feeling, not being able to trust a word to come out of her mouth.

You laughed softly, "I'll take that as a yes." Mouth replacing your fingers, giving little kisses until you got to her cunt. She sighs at first, your actions having her body relax into the bed. That was until she felt your tongue flick her clit, her body jolting in shock and a sudden moan came out.

She feels you smile as you sucked on her pussy again, "god if I knew how good you tasted, I would've done this a lot sooner instead of thinking so hard."

"Can you shut up a-" she was about to say, but you cut her off as you lick a long strip up her wet core, making her groan. "You're not in control right now, baby. I am."

She feels your tongue go in, and she almost shrieks at the feeling, covering her mouth with both hands. Not even a second on her lips, your hand lifted them off her face. "I wanna hear you," you hummed against her, sending vibrations all over her body, and relentless moaning came about.

"Fuck, Y/n. Feels too good," her breath hitched at the pleasure as she feels her body heating up, sweat beginning to cling to her skin. Her hands found your hair, needing something to anchor herself. You then moved your mouth away, the cold air grazing her wet core.

She looks down, about to complain about the lonesome feeling, until she sees you. Gosh, you looked sexy, gaze droopy as your mouth glistened, covered in her own juices. "I'm not done yet, baby. Don't worry," you said as you felt her tensing at the emptiness.

Your hands went to her pussy, rubbing slow circles around and she can't help but lean her head back. "Shit," she moans, it was slow but it had her throbbing. "You look so good like this under me, Fia," you grunted, and she feels your fingers tease her entrance.

Slowly, you pushed in a finger, and she arched her body up, while feeling the pumping in and out. She crumbles when she hears you speak, "Look at you reacting so well to my fingers." She whimpers as you took your other thumb, rubbing her clit at the same time.

"Y/n," she gasped your name. "More baby, please," she whines, and you sit yourself up a bit. Hands make their way up to her breast, fondling her hard nipples. "How pretty these are," you mumbled, then dove down. Your mouth latched onto them, tongue playing as they flickered while being coated in your saliva. She moaned, wanting more than this.

"Faster, please," she calls out and when looking down, your eyes stuck on her as she sees your lips curving upward despite the continuous sucking. You come up to her mouth, smashing your lips against her. She feels your pace quicken between her legs as she tries to moan, but it was muffled by your needy kiss.

Your fingers slipped in and out, her wetness helping with the quickened pace. "Feel how wet you are for me?" You mumbled against her lips, and she couldn't help but just kiss back in response as her brows furrowed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/n," she begs, shifting her head to the side, the feeling becoming more overwhelming for her to resist. You knew exactly what that meant, moving back down to her pussy. Mouth returning to your spot, tongue sinking back into her core, tongue fucking her until she chokes up a moan. 

"This wet cunt, just for me, hm?" You hummed against her, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. "I've got you," you promised, two fingers joining her mouth in a rhythm that quickly had her cumming.

"Shit, Y/n," she came as your steady hands hold her while she trembled. Before she could fully recover, you moved up her body, capturing her mouth in a kiss that let Sophia taste herself on your lips.

Your eyes fix all over her face, a bit worried, “Feeling okay?” Sophia giggles at the newfound concern you have for her, finding it cute. “I’m more than okay,” she hears a sigh of relief as you lie down next to her, and she feels warm as you wrap an arm around her naked figure.

“What does this mean for us?” Sophia spoke up, unsure if that’s what she should’ve asked after the time you just spent together. You look at her as she stares at the dim ceiling, wanting to tell her the truth.

“I… I want this to be real. But my life is just completely different from yours, Sophia.”

You told her honestly, which made her turn towards you, shaking her head. You stop her from saying anything, “Involving you in my life could be dangerous for you.”

“Then teach me to fend for myself, trust me. Protect me, Y/n,” she told you with authority in her voice. You were slightly taken aback by her passion, but smiled at how badly she wanted this, just as much as you.

“Fine. I’ll do everything in my power, blood, sweat, and tears to make us work,” Sophia smiles at your words. Giving you another kiss before pulling away and just leaning on your frame, head resting on your chest.

“Can we stay like this for now?” She murmurs, and you nod, complying as both arms now wrap around her body, wanting this moment to never end.

“SO WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL US ALL OF THIS?” Lara yells a week later, sitting in the common room area of the building, as Sophia gives her friends the rundown of what happened at the party.

“I just wanted to see where this would all go before I told you guys, okay?” She confesses, gaze drifting toward you as you sat with Daniella again across the room. You laugh about Dani’s mom making fun of her again, which causes you to find Sophia’s eyes.

Smiling at her, you wave as her face goes bright pink. Since that night, you have been making an incredible effort for Sophia. Instead of focusing on your job, you had asked Rai to free up your schedule more. The excuse was that the semester was coming to an end and many exams would be approaching, not want to use Sophia just in case he would say no.

After the party, you had been in school every single day, sitting next to Sophia during classes you shared with her, sharing notes with each other, even bringing her mango juice you would buy every morning before school.

Life seemed to be heading in the right direction for you as well. You were extremely close to buying a good apartment that fit you, Zaria, and your mom with the money you had been saving for the past year.

Thankfully, Rai paid you well, and it wouldn’t take much longer. 

Wednesday night, you even visited the warehouse to report that a client handing over their payment properly, and told Manon about what happened on Saturday. You didn’t go into detail about it, feeling it would be a bit weird to explain how you slept with Sophia… with a person you had slept with in the past.

She was genuinely happy for you, joking a bit, “Well, now that you're off the market, can you introduce me to that Daniella friend of yours?” You nudged her arm and laughed, then talked more about how you felt about Sophia. Manon clearly saw how smitten you are with the Filipina.

She was also a girl’s girl and respected what was happening, so she wasn’t planning on pushing anymore boundaries.

On Thursday, you went over to Sophia’s house, and while spending time with her as she cuddled against your chest, you had told her everything about your life that you possibly could in that moment.

Your job, who you worked for, your situation at home, how you planned on moving out, Daniella being a childhood best friend of yours, and, yes, even about Manon. She stared up at you as you explained each thing, carefully listening to each topic. Sophia didn’t care so much about Manon after learning how emotionally unavailable you were with each other.

It also did help that she was asking soooo many questions about your feelings for her. She would ask when you first started liking her, what kinds of dates you would take her on, and how you would protect her at any moment. Each answer made her heart swell even more for you.

Now the two of you were in school on Friday, and Sophia now had to deal with her friends bombarding her about everything.

“How was it?” Megan asked excitedly as Lara calmed down in her seat. “It was amazing-”

“Are the two of you together now?” Lara butted in, leaning closer to Sophia as the older answered, “Not yet but we’re working on it.”

Megan and Lara were about to ask something again, but Yoonchae beat them both to it first. “Are you happy?”

Now that was a legitimate question that actually made the older smile, just nodding as she kept her head down, a bit embarrassed. Lara and Megan squeal at the reaction while Yoonchae sways in a rhythm, happy that Sophia wasn’t worrying about only being perfect in school anymore.

She now had to think about her feelings for you. If she loved you, when she had to worry about you, the memories she was going to make with you. They were all feelings that made love real and a beautiful thing.

Sophia wouldn’t jump the fence and say she did it out of right love for you, but she was sure that the feeling was close. Because, despite finding the roughed up version of you all hot, she was pleased to see you less hurt in the past few days and just healing up.

“Fia?” She heard to her left, and she looked up to find you. You had this goofy grin on your face, and all she wanted to do was squeeze your cheeks. “Ready for our next class?”

Sophia nodded and got up, collecting her belongings in the process as her friends watched the two of them. You held her hand and waved at her friends, while Sophia told them she’ll be going and how she’ll text them later tonight. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Lara tells the two, and you chuckle as Sophia walks with her head down while you whisk her away to your last class.

Like the past couple of days, you sat down right beside her once you entered the classroom, getting comfortable as you got out your trusty notebook.

“Should we run lines tonight?” You whispered in her ear, and Sophia shuddered at the feeling. “Yeah, my place right after this?” You nodded as you gave her a small peck on the side of your forehead, making her smile like a high schooler who talked to their crush for the first time.

The class was pretty boring, you and Sophia focusing on taking down notes like the studious students you are. The hour passed by quickly, the professor already dismissing everyone and reminding them about the dates of their exams the following week.

Sophia dragged you to the entrance of the school, waving off the attention of random people trying to greet her, only glancing back to make sure you were keeping up before heading toward the parking lot. 

Luckily, her driver was already in front with the big black SUV, standing at the back passenger side like always. Loid, her driver, was dressed in his usual tuxedo and stayed quiet while giving you a polite nod as he opened the door for you both.

“Hey, Loid,” you greeted him with a small smile, sliding into the backseat after Sophia.

He bowed slightly. “Miss L/n.”

The car was comfortable, like usual, since you had been going to Sophia’s place time to time after school. The leather is light brown, the temperature is cool inside, and both of you stayed quiet, just soaking in the silence of the drive after the tons of yapping each professor did in school today.

Your hand found hers instinctively, and Sophia glanced at you, then down at your intertwined hands. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled softly to herself, eyes flicking back out the window. Without warning, Sophia pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and rested her head on your shoulder.

You tried to play it cool, not wanting her to see the way your cheeks were heating up or how much you suddenly couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. You were kind of obsessed with her at this point. And the fact that she hadn’t let go of your hand the whole ride only made you feel all warm inside.

By the time the car pulled up to her house, you had to mentally shake yourself out of your lovesick brain. The school play was already on Monday, and the two of you had to focus and make sure everything was perfect.

Because let’s be real, even when you called Sophia Miss Perfect, you were as well when it came to school, if you removed the fact that you didn’t show up much.

You played Aria, the daughter of a harsh politician, while Sophia played Gina, a girl from a poor family. Think Romeo and Juliet, but make it sapphic and kind of switching your roles in real life.

Gina and Aria weren’t supposed to love each other, and they weren’t even supposed to meet.

But of course, fate would do the exact opposite to them… and of course it ended badly.

You both went into Sophia’s room without saying much, the comfort between you two becoming natural now. She handed you a printed script with notes scribbled in pink pen, then plopped on the edge of her bed with her own marked-up copy that had purple ink instead of pink. The sunset streamed through her window, casting an orange hue on the white walls and floors of the room.

You ran through scenes quickly at first, blocking, line emphasis, and pacing. Sometimes she’d accidentally mix up her lines or stare at you for a little too long and get distracted, but it wasn’t like you were any better. You weren’t exactly immune to her entire existence, and the way she acted almost had you in awe.

Just almost, though, because you also had a slightly massive ego when it came to your own acting, but you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself. Things stayed lighthearted until the final scene.

You barely had to flip to the last page to know the dreaded ending came next. The final confrontation at the pier between Gina and Aria. You, standing behind her, acted torn between staying and finally choosing the life her family expected of her.

Sophia cleared her throat, sitting up straighter while you followed her actions, adjusting yourself because of how serious this was about to be. Sophia then said her lines, “If love is a curse, then I guess I was damned the second I met you.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she did her best to keep going. “You’ve made my life so much better. Made me feel strong through everything that I was going though.”

You stepped forward slowly, moving according to the light blocking your scripts had assigned, and said your own lines. “Gina… I won't ever stop loving you. This is just the only way to keep you safe, away from my father.”

Sophia’s eyes flicked up at you, already glassy, the scene hitting harder than she expected, even if you two were the ones who wrote it. Her lower lip quivered, but her voice stayed strong.  “Then you might as well kill me. Because I’ll never feel safe without you.”

You exhaled slowly, stepping closer, watching her eyes closely as you delivered the final blow. “This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.”

That was the line that shattered her. Sophia’s breath hitched as a tear slipped down her cheek. Then another and another as tears just kept falling. Her chest rose and fell like she wasn’t getting air fast enough. 

“Fia,” you said softly, script falling to your side as you set it down on the bed. She sniffled, eyes squeezing shut for a second before she wiped at them quickly. You take a step toward her, reaching out for her hand. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, but the way her voice broke at the end said otherwise. “No, that was… honestly? That was incredible.” You swept away one of the tears, giving her a soft, crooked smile. “You just made me emotional with a line I’ve heard fifty times.”

Sophia laughed wetly, leaning into your palm, her body finally relaxing as she let her shoulders drop. “It’s just… I don’t know. Something about it hit harder this time.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re too good at this,” you teased lightly, trying to ease her emotions. “You practically made me forget we’re not actually Aria and Gina.”

You didn’t say anything at first to let her calm down, then you smiled once she stopped hitching her breath and leaned in. “Want to run it one more time?” you whispered. Sophia shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, pulling you a little closer. “I want something else.” She kissed you slowly as your lips helped her calm down. You wrapped your hand around her nape, softly caressing her as you moved back a bit. “We’re gonna do great, so we won't have to act that or more times than we have to.”

That actually made her laugh, and you guys decided that it was enough practice until the day of the pay. The weekend passed by quickly with the help of errands and cash drops for Rai. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any violence, and it was honestly manageable, calm for two days.

But Monday rolled around much more quickly because of that. By the time you got to school that morning, you were practically glued to Sophia’s side like a lost puppy. The nerves were kind of getting to you, not knowing what to expect during that period of class, and yet you weren’t scared. Sophia made you feel ready for what’s to come.

That comfort lasted until your playwriting professor walked in, a clipboard in hand and a too-early smile on his face.

"Alright, we’re on the fifth play today," he announced to the room, already eyeing the two of you. "Which means... Miss Lafoerteza and Miss Y/L/N, you’re up."

You felt Sophia go stiff beside you, then squeezed her hand for a bit of comfort. He continued, “Head backstage. We’ll give you five to get settled before curtain.”

You both stood up, her fingers briefly grazing yours before she tucked her script against her chest. The class watched you two shuffle toward the back with way too much interest in comparison to the previous plays for some reason. I mean, it was likely because of Sophia and her being popular.

Backstage, Sophia was already pacing in small circles, whispering lines under her breath so they would be stuck in her brain. You reached for her hand gently, “Hey.”

She turned, eyes wide, lips parted slightly. “You’re gonna kill it,” you said, squeezing her hand. “We’re gonna kill it. You know this. You could even do this in your sleep.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, but she was still tense.

“Sophia, look at me,” you said.

When she did, you gave her a soft smile and leaned in, wrapping your arms around her in a long hug, and you felt her heart slow down against your chest. She melted into it after a second, exhaling every nerve she felt out of her body.

Then, from the front of the curtain, you heard your professor shout, “On my count — five, four...!”

The show finally began with everyone else having printed out scripts to follow along. Like you said, everything moved smoothly once you were on stage. The lights were hot as they blasted both of your bodies, the silence from the audience was a bit eerie, and somehow every line sounded better while standing on stage. You barely had to act at certain points. The story of Aria and Gina hits a bit close to home for the two of you.

And then came the ending. You swallowed thickly as you stepped forward, the final lines leaving your mouth as your voice cracked just enough to sting.

“This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.” You didn’t even realize you were crying until your line finished and your vision blurred. As the script had directed, you turned and went behind the curtains, and once you hit backstage, you wiped the tears off your face in frantic swipes.

Meanwhile, Sophia stayed on stage as planned. She stood there, center spotlight, with her expression wrecked, even in its silence. She stayed in character until the very end, even when she became shocked at the sight of tears rolling down your face for the first time.

Then the lights dropped and the class erupted in applause, even the professor too. She had barely made it back behind the curtain when he called both of you back out. “Miss Y/L/N, Miss Lafoerteza — stay a moment,” he said, staying seated behind the table with his clipboard and the most pleased expression you’d ever seen on his face.

“I have to say,” he continued, looking between the two of you, “this might be the most powerful performance I’ve seen for this project in years. Well-written characters. A plot with a lot of angst. Dialogue that hurt.”

The class nodded in agreement, still clapping. “And based on your script, commitment, and the full delivery of the story…” he paused, then smiling, “I’m giving both of you an A. No notes.”

You turned to Sophia, heart still pounding, and pulled her into a hug before anything else could happen. She was crying again from how much pressure she’d been holding in all month until now. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, face pressed against your chest, and you smiled through your own exhausted breath.

You pulled her backstage after the Professor told the next pair to prepare. Leaning back just slightly to cup her cheeks as her arms were wrapped around you, and kissed her softly. When you pulled back, her smile finally peeked through her tears. “We did it,” she whispered.

You laughed. “Yeah. We really did.” She sniffled, her makeup slightly smudged, and you grabbed the corner of your sleeve to gently pat under her eyes. “Don’t worry,” you murmured. “You still look perfect.”

She bit her lip at that, eyes fluttering a bit because of your touch. Then, before you could overthink it, you looked her dead in the eyes and asked, quietly, “Sophia… will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, her face went still. Then the smallest smile crept across her lips, one that slowly grew wider as her eyes looked glossier than normal.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Of course I will.”

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

PAIRING | Joaquín Torres x f!Reader

TAGS/WARNINGS | just tons of fluff, and doggos!

SUMMARY | Joaquín is fiercely protective of all the VA’s service dogs in training, so when Sam informs him that there’s a new volunteer arriving to help take care of the pups, Joaquín is prepared to use any excuse to veto anyone who comes in through those doors… until you’re the one who walks in, and he knows he’s lost.

WORD COUNT | 2.0k

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ NAVIGATION | | JOAQUÍN TORRES M.LIST ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

I do not do taglists. Please follow my sideblog @ficsbyjane for notifications whenever I post.

✧.* In the Golden Hour

Sam sighs. It’s only ten in the morning and he’s already tired.

Joaquín sits on the floor in one of the VA’s designated meeting rooms, arms crossed over his chest, looking uncharacteristically grumpy even surrounded by six happy dogs poking and prodding at him with their noses.

“You know, you could… I don’t know, help?” Sam says, sidestepping a rogue tennis ball as he stacks up a few chairs and moves them to the back of the room. “What’s your problem anyway?”

“I wanna vet ‘em.”

“Too bad. I already told them they could start today.”

“Without consulting me?!” Joaquín sits up a little straighter now, indignant. Bailey, a curious little beagle, whines now that his face is out of reach and she can’t smother him in kisses.

“And since when did I need your approval, kid?”

“But I’m Mav’s handler,” the younger man insists, and a golden retriever who’s been lying sprawled across a sunlit patch just an arm’s reach away lifts his head, as though recognizing the sound of his name. “I should have a say on who comes in to take care of him when I’m not here.”

Mav, or Maverick, lets out a cheerful woof! His mouth then falls open in that silly golden grin that melts the hearts of everyone he meets, his tongue lolling to the side.

“See? He agrees with me,” Joaquín points at his latest pet project, no pun intended. He reaches over to give Mav some much deserved belly scratches. “Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t encourage him, Mav,” Sam half-heartedly scolds, and Maverick slumps back onto the floor with a high-pitched whine. “And you’ve already scared away plenty of volunteers. You think they’re easy to come by, or what?”

“I’m protective of the pups, okay? You can’t blame me for that,” Joaquín points out defensively, softening just a little when Daisy, a sweet and predictably excitable Labrador attacks his extended arm, wanting to play. “…And Mav’s special.”

It’s not that Joaquín doesn’t trust Sam’s judgment, and it is true that he’s protective of all the service dogs in training, but Mav is special.

Joaquín found him when he was still just a pup, a few weeks shy of a year old according to the vet, in some war-torn zone while overseas. It was instinct, he didn’t even think as he scooped up the trembling fur ball and brought him back to base.

While the Air Force weren’t strangers to welcoming golden retrievers among their ranks, Joaquín knew immediately that Mav could do the most good as a therapy dog. With Sam’s help, he got the smiley goldie a spot in the PAWS program and the rest was history.

And it was impossible not to get attached.

So while he’s not opposed to handing over Mav’s leash for a few hours a day, especially now that he’s the Falcon to Sam’s Captain America and he doesn’t always have the time to dedicate to the program, the last thing he wants is for some inexperienced volunteer to come in and mess up Mav’s progress.

“Wow, did you guys hear that?” Sam feigns shock, addressing the other dogs in the room. “Your lieutenant has a favourite.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t do that,” Joaquín winces, not daring to look over at the innocent stares of the VA’s latest round of recruits. “Don’t turn them against me.”

“Hey, you incriminated yourself,” Sam points at him before shaking his head, “I wouldn’t look at Jax if I were you. That look of betrayal—oof.”

“Listen, can’t you just—I don’t know, tell me more about this person?” Joaquín asks, hazarding a glance over at Jax the Doberman, who looks back at him with shining, watery eyes. He’s hit with a pang of guilt, one he tries to remedy by pulling Jax in for a cuddle.

“You’re being too protective,” Sam rolls his eyes. “The new volunteer is good with them, alright? She—”

“These guys would love a serial killer if he gave them treats,” Joaquín scoffs, ignoring the way Axel, a German Shepherd, seems to tilt his head with indignity. “Also… she?”

“Is that a problem? Damn, didn’t know you were like that, Torres,” Sam’s eyes widen, but there’s a telltale smirk on his face that says he’s just kidding around.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” the young Falcon rolls his eyes, although he softens a little when Bailey starts pawing at his knee for some attention. He scratches her affectionately under one floppy ear. “I just mean… well, she needs to be able to handle Beau, for one thing.”

Beau the Rottweiler then jumps up at attention when Joaquín points at him, barking once, twice, as though saying, “I’m here!”

He only looks intimidating, honest. In reality, Beau’s just another gentle giant. Still, if he decides to go running off chasing squirrels on his next walk, most people wouldn’t stand a chance against his speed and strength.

“Why do you think we call him ‘Beau’, huh?” Sam just grins even wider, bending over to pat the Rottweiler on the head. Beau laps up the attention, his bum wriggling excitedly with each wag of his tail. “He’s a total sucker for a pretty face. Aren’t ya, boy?”

“Well, duh, that’s why he likes me so much,” Joaquín grins when Beau huffs as if in agreement, tickling him under his chin. And then, he can’t help asking: “Alright, how pretty we talkin’?”

“God, is that important?”

“Wha-? You just said—!”

“Yeah, but you need to keep the flirting to a minimum, alright? This is a professional environment.”

“Oh, come on, when have I ever—”

“Literally all the time, you incorrigible little…” Sam trails off, exasperated, not wanting to call Joaquín something incredibly rude. “I swear, you should come with a warning.”

Joaquín just smirks at that, picking up the tennis ball when Axel brings it to him, tossing it across the room and starting a flurry of movement and a chorus of joyful barks.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Eh, depends on how you look at it.”

“Okay,” Sam scoffs, “so you’re done giving me crap about the volunteer?”

“Nah, I’m not letting you, or her, off the hook that easily,” Joaquín then looks over at Maverick, who has moved to join the other dogs in the chase for the ball. He and Daisy are play fighting over it. “Alright, well, if I can’t vet her, then I at least wanna meet her first.”

“You’re only saying that because I said she’s pretty,” Sam grabs the dogs’ leashes that are hanging from a hook on the wall, letting out a sharp whistle that echoes off the walls. All of them obediently fall into line, plodding over when they see their leashes out.

“Please,” Joaquín rolls his eyes, “how pretty can she be?”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that one,” Sam shakes his head, attaching the leashes to the dogs’ harnesses, camouflage-patterned with the words “ARMY” and their names stitched onto them.

Joaquín laughs now, catching the handles to the leashes that Sam tosses toward him. Daisy is connected to Beau and Maverick, while the others are grouped together, all somewhat evenly distributed.

“What, you gonna snitch or somethin—” he starts to fire back, but then movement in the hallway catches his eye. Joaquín glances out the door and almost chokes.

Because walking in through the doorway is easily the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Hi Sam—oh!”

Your eyes just light up when you see the dogs, like the moment just before a sparkler catches. Joaquín scrambles to his feet just as you fall to your knees to welcome Axel into your arms, who is the first one to run up to you.

The rest follow eagerly to say hello to their new friend, just swarming you. Beau pokes his head under your arm, Jax is so eager for kisses that he knocks you off your feet and onto your backside, and Bailey immediately jumps into your lap. Daisy is attacking your face, making you squeal when she licks a stripe up your cheek.

“Okay guys, okay!” You’re giggling, and Joaquín has to take a second to inhale, like he’s trying to breathe in that laugh. “Pets for everyone, but wait your turn!”

The dogs don’t listen, just continue giving you sloppy kisses and nose boops. Maverick goes bounding over, the only one of the bunch you haven’t met yet, and noses curiously at the soles of one of your shoes.

Joaquín doesn’t stop him. In fact, he barely registers the fact that he’s let go of the leashes.

“Why, hello there,” you coo, letting Mav sniff the back of your hand before you start petting him in earnest. You check his harness, smiling as you read his name out loud. “Well, aren’t you a handsome one, Maverick?”

The golden retriever looks to his handler, as though proud, like he’s saying, “Did you hear that? She said I’m handsome!”

Joaquín’s never been so jealous of a dog in his entire life.

Once the dogs have finished saying hello and have calmed down a little, you stand up, trying not to trip over them as they circle your legs.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” you clear your throat sheepishly. Sam smiles triumphantly, turning to give Joaquín the smuggest of looks, only to roll his eyes at what he finds. The kid’s earlier skepticism and indignation is nowhere to be seen, only the most idiotic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Along with the most obvious pair of heart eyes mankind has ever seen.

Joaquín grins. Your hair is slightly dishevelled now, and your nice jacket is covered in dog drool and dog hair but you don’t seem to care. Instead, you just catch his eye and smile.

“Oh, you must be Lieutenant Torres,” and then you step closer and hold out a hand. He can smell your perfume or your shampoo, whatever it is, and for a second he can’t seem to form any words. You glance uneasily over at Sam, who just shrugs.

“Um—yeah,” Joaquín blinks and shakes his head a little, taking your hand with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm. Maybe he even holds on a little longer than is necessary. “Please, just Joaquín is fine.”

“Sure, Joaquín,” your smile grows wider and he can’t help but watch, enraptured, as your lips form the sounds of his name.

“So… the dogs, uh, they really like you.”

“Oh, you think so?” You visibly melt, pressing a hand over your heart. “Thank god, it’s the best endorsement I’ve ever gotten.”

“Well, you know what they say: dogs are a good judge of character,” he offers. You laugh and he chuckles along, all breathless and smitten. To the side, Sam lets out a scoff but he can’t bring himself to care.

“I thought you said they’d love serial killers—” But Sam doesn’t get to finish, Joaquín stepping forward hurriedly to pick up the dogs’ leashes off the floor.

“Hey, I’ve got some time…” Joaquín says, not at all subtle or casual. He steps a little closer, offering you the leashes, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh when your fingers brush his. “Maybe I can show you their favourite route.”

You glance over at Sam, who rolls his eyes so hard you think they might get stuck. Still, you smile up at Joaquín.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant,” you gesture to the door, giggling when he dips his head shyly and slowly jogs toward the door.

You turn back to Sam, smirking as you whisper, “I thought you said he’d give me a hard time?”

“Yeah, well, he’s a pain in my ass, that’s for sure.”

“…He’s cute.”

“Ugh, I oughta throw up in your face.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Ready?” Joaquín then pops his head back into the room to ask. You spin around, nonchalant, and nod, letting the dogs tug you excitedly towards the door.

Sam watches you all go, huffing a laugh when Joaquín bends dramatically at the waist as he opens the door for you. Shaking his head, Sam turns away to finish reorganizing the room and mutters to himself, “Guess Beau’s not the only sucker around here.”

Outside on the sidewalk, Beau sneezes.

FIN.

Notes: I love these two already, so I miiiiight do a part 2 eventually, one day, idk.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. Do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. No part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. Minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[crdteezv]

The Project - Haechan + Ten

Paring:  !popular guy! haechan x ! popular guy! ten x f! reader

Genre: college! au, smut

Synopsis: You're paired with the most popular guys in your school, Ten and Haechan, for a group project.  Everyone seems to love them and fall for their charm but you simply couldn’t understand why. But now, you’re entangled between two best friends, caught in their pull…

 Warnings: smut. !teasing dom! haechan/ten, they’re both best friends, the reader can be a little shy at times, sub reader, mention/use of alcohol, dirty talk, teasing, praise/ slight degradation, heavy cumplay(you have been warned…) (3some), oral (f. giving), thigh riding, edging, hair pulling, manhelded, light voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, drunk/unprotected sex 

Word Count: 10.5k words

A/N: Listen I made this fic to feed into my own delusions because I want them both so bad 😭🙏🏾. It’s the way I never see anyone make a fic of the both of them…

At first, the library was silent, except for the soft rustling of pages and the quiet footsteps of those browsing the shelves. You sat at a wooden table near the back, chin propped on your hand, eyes flicking between the textbook in front of you and the half-empty Word document glowing dimly on your laptop. The project was due next week, and despite your better judgment, you’d somehow end up stuck with the most well-known people in your school: Ten and Haechan.

Everyone at the college loved them—Ten for his effortless charm and quick wit, and Haechan for his playful smirk and endless energy. Together, they were practically irresistible. You, however, weren’t so easily impressed. Sure, they were undeniably attractive—maybe even annoyingly so, but their constant antics were exhausting. 

Ten lounged across from you, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers as he skimmed through a stack of notes. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and every so often, he’d push it back with an easy flick of his wrist. Meanwhile, Haechan slouched to your left, half-heartedly typing while humming a pop song under his breath. They were supposed to help with the presentation, but all they did was interrupt and bicker.

“Seriously, can you guys focus?” you snapped, patience wearing thin.

Haechan huffed, crossing his arms. “Tell him to stop acting like he’s some kind of gaming expert.” 

Ten scoffed, leaning back. “I can’t help it if I’m just naturally better.” 

“You’re not,” Haechan shot back. 

“Your aim is trash.” 

“And yet, I still clutched that last round,” Ten said smugly. “

That was lag!”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, can you two drop it and actually help? You’re annoying everyone.”

Haechan snickered, leaning back in his chair. “Relax. No one cares. They’re too busy pretending to study while sneaking glances at me and Ten.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your stupid little video game, we’d get something done.”

Ten leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, eyes glittering with amusement. “Are you always this uptight, or are you planning hard to get and you secretly love being in our group?”

That was the last straw. “I don’t love anything about this group, except how fast I’m leaving once we’re done.”

Your voice had risen just enough to catch the librarian’s attention. She shot you a sharp glare over her glasses, arms crossed in clear disapproval.

“Enough. Take your noise elsewhere—you’re too loud.”

Before you could protest, she was already ushering you, Haechan, and Ten toward the exit. You muttered apologies, but it was clear you weren’t welcome back anytime soon.

Once outside, you whirled on them. “Great. Where are we supposed to work now?”

Ten and Haechan were laughing, clearly not taking you seriously.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” you snapped.

Haechan tried to collect himself, but his grin gave him away. “Sorry, it’s just… we’ve didn’ never seen you this mad before.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I actually wanted to start this project, and neither of you has even looked at it,” you huffed.

That seemed to guilt them—at least a little. Ten placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a small smile. “Hey, we’re sorry for the dumb arguments. It’s always this guy’s fault for starting them anyway.”

“Hey!” Haechan protested, offended.

You chuckled despite yourself, feeling a bit better. With a sigh, you said, “Come on, let’s just work at my dorm.”

They exchanged glances before nodding.

Ten smirked. “Good idea. At least your dorm won’t have a cranky librarian.”

You all laughed as you headed off together.

Back in your apartment dorm, the air felt heavier, more intimate. The space seemed to amplify the tension, especially knowing you’d be stuck with Ten and Haechan for the next few hours, your sanctuary invaded.

Trying to ignore their amused chatter, you moved through the space, heading to your room to change into something more comfortable—a cropped top and loose shorts. It was nothing unusual, but when you stepped back out, you noticed their eyes lingering.

Haechan’s usual smirk faltered for just a second, his gaze flicking from your bare waist to your thighs before he quickly looked away. Ten, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes roamed over you with an intensity that sent a prickle down your spine, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Nice outfit,” he said casually, leaning back against the wall. His tone was light, but there was something else in his gaze—something new.

“Yeah,” Haechan added, his voice quieter than usual. “It’s… cute.”

You crossed your arms, ignoring the sudden warmth in your face. “Thanks… now let's focus, we have a lot of work to do.”

But as the evening dragged on, the shift in the air became impossible to ignore. Ten’s gaze lingered a little too long, and Haechan’s teasing remarks carried a different edge. You became hyper-aware of every move, every accidental brush of skin as you worked side by side. And though you’d never admit it, a small part of you didn’t entirely mind.

You start to wonder if you can even handle being in a group with them…

A few days had passed, and the three of you had gradually started working more on the project together. But today, it was just you and Ten. Haechan was stuck at soccer practice so he wasn’t able to make it. You couldn’t ignore the tension between you.

Ten sat across from you at the dining table, his dark eyes scanning his screen, though his focus seemed divided. You could feel his gaze lingering—on your face, your hands, the curve of your neck.

“Something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you typed away.

“No.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching with an exaggerated sigh. The hem of his hoodie lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin. “Just thinking about how weird it is without Haechan here. It’s so quiet.”

It was noticeably quieter without Haechan filling every silence with endless chatter.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you muttered, glancing up at him. “We might actually get something done.”

Ten’s lips curled into a slow, almost dangerous smile. “You don’t like working with him?”

“I don’t like either of you, to be honest. But I don’t have a choice,” you corrected.

His gaze sharpened, watching you intently, and it was starting to unravel something inside you.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“This cranky,” he teased. “Every time we work on this project, you never loosen up.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t the one doing all the work. “You two barely help as it is and never focus when I try to talk to you about it.”

Ten pushed his laptop aside, folding his arms on the table as he leaned in closer, his eyes tracing over your features. “I can fix that,” he murmured. “I’ll start paying more attention.” His gaze flickered downward, lingering just a moment too long.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding his eyes.

“You know, you’re different when we’re alone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re… more shy,” he said.

His gaze dipped briefly before returning to yours, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And you’re more on edge…maybe even nervous?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smirked. “Then why can’t you look me in the eye, love?”

The pet name caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could respond, his fingers grazed the back of your hand—a fleeting touch, but one that sent a trail of warmth up your arm.

The air between you shifted. The room felt smaller, the distance between you shrinking even though neither of you had moved.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“I—” you started, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth focusing on—made your voice falter. He got up from his seat and made his way over to you and sat beside you.

He then leaned in, closing the space between you. His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening it. Before you knew it, you were on the couch, straddling his lap.

Ten’s hands found your waist as your fingers tangled in his hair. The soft groan he let out when you shifted against him sent a shiver down your spine. You tested the friction between you, and his fingers tightened their grip, anchoring you in place. His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Fuck, Ten… we shouldn’t be doing this. We have so much—”

Your words cut off with a sharp inhale as his hands slid lower, cupping your ass.

A quiet whimper escaped before you could stop it.

“Oh, come on, sweetie,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re just taking a little break, right?”

Typical. He always found a way to get what he wanted.

“Besides… you could use one after working so hard on this project, don’t you think?”

You could only nod, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Your hips rolled against him, and his grip on you tightened. He let out a low groan, his control slipping.

“Mhm, since you love grinding on me so much,” he murmured, his voice low, “how about you do that for me on my thigh?”

You blinked, taken aback. “You can’t be serious…”

“Very.” His gaze darkened, sharp, and unwavering.

Hesitantly, you straddled his thigh, your body already aching for more. As you began to move, the friction sent a rush of pleasure through you, a soft whimper slipping past your lips. Ten’s grip on your waist tightened, his breath hitching.

“God, you look so good like this,” he coaxed.

“Shut up—”

He flexed his thigh beneath you, and the sudden pressure made you moan—a sound that caught both of you off guard.

“Aww,” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “It’s cute that you think you can talk back to me.” His fingers traced slow circles over your hips. “Besides… you like the attention I’m giving you.”

You finally understood the pull he had on people. He always knew exactly what to say, effortlessly drawing them in, keeping them hanging on his every word. And somehow, you’d fallen right into his hands.

Your movements quickened, the tension in your body coiling tighter. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, barely able to hold yourself together.

“Mhm, are you close, my pretty girl?” he hummed and all you could do was nod.

“Then let go for me.”

With a final roll of your hips, pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling against him. You barely registered the mess you had made, too lost in the lingering high.

“Damn,” Ten chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “You were really pent up, huh?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. You couldn’t even look at him. You had completely fallen into his trap.

“Whatever,” you muttered, scrambling off him. "Can we just clean up now and actually get back to work on this project?"

He laughed and agreed, the teasing glint in his eyes never fading. But as you got up to grab a washcloth, he caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Just know this isn’t over,” he murmured, his voice lower, more serious. “We’ll continue this another time.”

You stared at him, startled by the weight of his words—like he meant every single one. Slowly, you nodded, signaling your understanding.

The two of you cleaned up and got back to work, but no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t shake what had just happened. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you wanted to.

A few days later…

Haechan showed up at your dorm much earlier than expected, that same cocky look on his face as he breezed in, making himself at home. You should’ve been annoyed, but strangely, you weren’t. 

"Where’s Ten?" he asked, walking right past you and flopping onto your bed like he actually lives here.

“He’s coming later,” you muttered, trying to ignore how his legs sprawled out, taking up way too much of the bed.

“Guess it’s just us then,” he said, his smirk widening as he propped himself up on his elbows. “You don’t look thrilled.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the project in front of you, but before you could, Haechan was leaning over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear as he glanced at your screen.

“So, how was working with Ten last time? I bet you missed me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but think back to the last time you’d worked with Ten. The memory of it made heat rise in your chest, and you wondered, just for a moment, if Ten had told Haechan about what had happened between you two.

“Not in the slightest,” you shot back. “I get more work done with him than I ever do with you.”

“So you like him more than me?” Haechan asked, his voice laced with a mock pout.

“Well, I didn’t say all that…” You paused, looking down at your hands. “It’s just quieter when you’re not around. And I will admit, I sometimes kind of miss—actually, never mind.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to tease you about whatever you were about to say.

“Don’t stop now, sweetheart. What were you going to say?” His voice turned flirtatious, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist in ways you hated to admit.

You hated when he did this—when he played with you, knowing just how to push your buttons. He loved seeing you become a mess, trying to keep your composure while he unraveled you bit by bit.

“It’s nothing, alright? Now, unlike you, I actually care about passing, so can you please stop teasing me and help me with this work?” you snapped, trying to get back to the project.

But instead of listening, he swiveled your chair to face him, locking eyes with you. His usual playful gaze was now replaced with something deeper, something more intense. He was towering over you as you sat up to look at him, his hands resting firmly on the armrests of your chair as he leaned down, looking at you with an intensity that made you catch your breath.

“Forget about the work for a second and focus on me,” he murmured, with one of his hands slowly creeping down to your thigh. “I want to know what you were going to say.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart raced as his thumb moved in slow circles against your skin. You couldn’t find your words. His touch felt like fire, and it left you frozen.

“I was going to say that I kind of missed you…” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it.

He gave a low, amused chuckle. “Wait, really? I thought you didn’t like me because I always talk your ear off. ”His tone was playful, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “Well, I don’t mind it, to be honest. You kind of help me unwind when you make me laugh. Your jokes really do help, and they make me forget about the project for a bit. Not that Ten isn’t funny... he is, just quieter and mostly keeps to himself, you know?”

Haechan was quiet for a moment, clearly surprised by your confession. He genuinely thought you didn’t like him. But now, hearing you say this, something shifted in his expression. Maybe you’d grown a little soft for him after all.

Haechan’s eyes softened, just for a moment, before the smirk returned, wider and more confident than before. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as his fingers lingered on your thigh, the contact sending a jolt of heat through you.

“Didn’t think I had that effect on you,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

You tried to steady your breath, feeling his proximity like a weight pressing against you. Every inch of your body screamed for you to move away, but something in you didn’t want to. Something was pulling you in, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

You tried to steady your breath, feeling his proximity like a weight pressing against you. Every inch of your body screamed for you to move away, but something in you didn’t want to. Something was pulling you in, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

“I bet you do this to all the girls you mess with,” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned your chair back around to focus on the work.

Haechan chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear in a way that made it hard to think. “Only the ones I really want,” he replied, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on the work in front of you, but it felt impossible with him so close. The heat from his body, the way his breath ghosted over your skin—it was all too much.

"Why are you doing this?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper as your typed away on your laptop.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now it had a sharper edge. "Because I can," he said simply, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles on your skin. "And because you haven’t told me to stop."

You gasped at his words, but couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. Instead, something inside you shifted, and the line between annoyance and attraction started to come together.

"I-I thought you were here to help me with the project," you said, trying to break the tension with a half-hearted attempt at humor.

"Who says we can’t multitask?" His grin widened as he moved to side of you so he can look down at you and see the bashful look on your face. "Besides, I think we’re doing a pretty good job of it already."

Your pulse quickened, and you realized you weren’t sure where this was headed anymore. The teasing and flirting were growing more intense, more real, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

Before you could respond, he lowered his voice again, towering down to the side of your face with his lips dangerously close to your ear. “So, what’s it gonna be? You want me to help with the work... or something else?”

The question hung in the air, thick with anticipation, and you knew there was no turning back now.

Haechan's eyes never left yours, his smirk deepening as he slowly, deliberately, moved closer. His hands found the armrests of your chair, trapping you in place as he loomed over you, his presence all-consuming. Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs as the heat between you both thickened.

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, making it impossible to ignore the way he was looking at you—like he had already won.

Your fingers twitched over your laptop keyboard, but your mind was blank. The work in front of you might as well have been in another language for all the attention you could give it. Haechan knew it too. He could see the way your lips parted slightly, the way your body betrayed you, leaning in despite yourself.

He then knelt down for a kiss.

Soft at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he tilted his head and deepened it. His lips moved against yours with slow, intoxicating confidence, his tongue slipping between them, tasting you, claiming you. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as he pressed closer, bending down to make up for the height difference while you sat frozen in your chair.

But he didn’t want to keep bending down to reach you.

Without warning, he grabbed your laptop, placed it on the bed, and shoved everything off your desk, letting it scatter carelessly.

 He grabbed you, and picked you up  as if it was nothing. A small gasp left your lips, but it was swallowed by the intensity of his kiss as he carried you to the desk.

“Hey—” you barely got the protest out before he set you down on the cleared desk, stepping between your thighs and pulling you flush against him.

“You’ll live,” he murmured against your lips, his hands already roaming, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt, gripping your waist like he owned you.

Your hands found his broad shoulders, gripping onto him for stability, but really, you just wanted to feel him, to confirm this was real. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes flickering with something dangerous. “You taste even better than I thought,” he admitted, smirking as he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing, testing.

You swallowed hard, your skin burning from his touch, from the way he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him close, not wanting him to leave.

 “You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.

“Only because I know what I want.”

He was kissing you again, harder this time, hungrier. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them as he pressed closer, trapping you between his body and the desk.You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he tasted, the way his fingers gripped your skin and how his tongue moved with yours as if he had all the time in the world.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away, only to take your place in the chair. He sat down, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, settling you on his lap like you belonged there.

“There,” he breathed, looking up at you with hooded eyes, his fingers brushing your hair back before trailing down your spine. “Much better.”

Your heart raced in your chest, your fingers threading through his dark hair as you looked down at him, breathless, caught between disbelief and raw desire. The way he gazed up at you, lips swollen from kissing, hands on your hips, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt—it was clear this wasn’t over.

Haechan’s touch grew bolder, his fingers slipping under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing your neck. His hand moved lower, fingertips skimming the waistband of your shorts before slipping inside. Your breath caught as his fingers found your heat, his touch deliberate and teasing.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice thick with desire, his fingers pressing where you needed them most. “Already so wet for me.”

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as he worked you slowly, his fingers curling, coaxing pleasure from you with each calculated stroke. The way he watched you, reveling in your little reactions. Your hips moved against his hand, chasing the sensation, but he kept you on the edge, never giving you quite enough.

Just as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, a sharp knock at your front door broke the moment.

Both of you froze. Your breath was ragged, your body trembling as you tried to make sense of reality again. Haechan’s fingers still rested inside you, a silent, frustrated pause between you before the knock came again, louder this time.

“Shit,” you whispered, scrambling to reach for your phone as it buzzed on the desk beside you.

Haechan smirked, watching you with lazy amusement as you answered the call, pressing the phone to your ear while attempting to steady your breathing.

“Hey, I’m here I’ve been knocking on your door for awhile now,” Ten’s voice came through, oblivious to what he had just interrupted. “Are you home? Also, I remember Haechan told me he was going to be there earlier than me. Is he with you right now?”

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t hear Ten knocking on your door for the past five minutes. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to sound normal, despite the heat still pulsing through your veins. “Uh—yeah! Yes, I’m home and yeah he is here. I’ll be there in a second.”

You ended the call, exhaling sharply, your gaze snapping to Haechan, who hadn’t moved an inch. His smirk deepened, his fingers brushing over your thigh before pulling away completely, leaving you aching, unsatisfied.

“Guess you have to go let him in,” he murmured, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You shot him a glare before scrambling off his lap, your legs still shaky as you hurried to fix your clothes. The smug look on his face only made your frustration grow.

The project was finally turned in, freeing the three of you from hours of cramped sessions, awkward tension, and the intense moments that had built up between you and each of them.You thought you could finally breathe—maybe even return to normal. But as you sat in your dorm with Ten and Haechan sprawled lazily on your bed, your mind kept drifting back to everything that had happened.

Since you had all worked so hard on the project, you figured you deserved to celebrate, cracking open a bottle of your favorite alcohol and passing around shot glasses. The familiar burn of liquor settled in your stomach as the three of you took turns, the warmth spreading through your veins.

Haechan, as usual, wore that signature smirk of his, arm draped over the edge of the bed as he teased Ten about something trivial. Ten, leaning back against your headboard with his legs crossed, watched in quiet amusement, his dark eyes flicking between you and Haechan. The dynamic between them was as natural as ever—so why did it feel like you were under a microscope every time Ten’s gaze lingered on you?

“You’re quiet,” he noted, his voice smooth yet concerned. “You’re always like that, but this time it feels… different.”

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing reassurance into your tone. “Just relieved we finally finished the project.”

“You want to get rid of us that quickly, huh?” Haechan teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Well, not necessarily… I just—”

“Oh, stop teasing her. You’re making her uncomfortable when you do that,” Ten interjected, rolling his eyes.

“What? It’s a valid question,” Haechan scoffed, sitting up a little. “She even said herself that once the project was over, she was done with us. Hell, I’m surprised she even invited us back to her place.”

You hesitated, his words lingering. He wasn’t entirely wrong. At the beginning, you hadn’t wanted to be grouped with them. But after spending so much time together, you had started to see them differently—especially after everything that had happened between the three of you.

Ten studied you, sharp gaze reading you too well. “Actually… he has a point.” His voice was quieter now, more curious than teasing. “What changed?”

You swallowed, glancing between them. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Maybe... maybe I just got used to you guys.”

Haechan smirked, leaning in slightly. “Got used to us, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

The air in the room thickened again, that same tension from the past week creeping back in. But this time, there was no project keeping you together—only whatever this was, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Haechan’s playful expression never wavered, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “Oh, you got used to us alright—especially with me. Do you remember  what happened the other day when it was just us alone?”

Your heart stopped. He was bluffing. He had to be. He wouldn’t—

Ten’s eyebrows lifted, his smirk deepening. “The other day? What happened the other day?”

“Nothing,” you blurted, shooting Haechan a sharp look. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The alcohol just getting to him.

“Oh, but you know exactly what I’m talking about, love.” Haechan leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he grinned at you placing his hand on his cheek. “And I think Ten might want to know how—”

“Okay!” you cut him off, your voice a bit too loud. “How about we play a game instead of… whatever this is?”

Ten’s gaze flicked between you and Haechan, curiosity piqued, but he let it slide—for now. He reached for his drink, shrugging. “Sure. What game?”

“Truth or dare,” Haechan suggested immediately, his grin looking sinster.

You hesitated, knowing full well this could only end badly. But with both of them watching you expectantly, you nodded. “Fine.”

At first, the game was harmless. Ten dared Haechan to chug his drink; Haechan asked Ten about the weirdest place he’d ever hooked up with someone. But it didn’t take long for the questions to turn more personal, the tension thickening with each round.

Finally, it was Haechan’s turn to ask you. He leaned back, swirling his drink lazily as he fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

His grin widened. “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try but never had the chance to?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. You could lie and say something safe, but the alcohol buzzing in your veins made your tongue slip. “I’ve…always kind of wanted to try a threesome,” you admitted, your face burning the moment the words left your mouth.

The room went silent.

 You didn’t dare look at either of them, but you could feel their stares, the weight of their shock, and something else entirely.

“Wow,” Ten finally said, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Did not see that coming.”

Haechan, on the other hand, laughed outright, his grin practically splitting his face. “Shit, really? A threesome?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Ten said, his tone teasing. “You can’t drop something like that and then get shy about it. That’s not how this works.”

“Yeah,” Haechan added, shifting closer to you on the bed. “Now we’re curious.”

You peeked through your fingers, gaze darting between them. Ten’s smirk was sharper than ever, and Haechan was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“What are you guys doing?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Ten said innocently, though the look in his eyes told a different story. “Just wondering if that’s something you’d want to… explore.”

Your heart pounded. “You’re joking.”

“Does it look like we’re joking?” Haechan asked, his hand coming to rest on your knee. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver up your spine.

“This is crazy,” you said, shaking your head, but neither of them moved away.

“Maybe,” Ten said, leaning in closer. “But you’re not telling us to stop.”

Before you could respond, Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against your thigh. At the same time, Ten’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face toward him. His dark eyes searched yours, waiting for hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet teasing, coaxing you to relax.

Haechan wasn’t as patient. His lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his hand still inching up your thigh.

Ten’s touch slid beneath your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re shaking,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, almost cruel. “What’s the matter? Too much for you?”

Haechan chuckled against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Bet you’re loving every second of this, though. Aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer—couldn’t do anything but let out a soft whimper as Ten’s hands slid higher, fingertips grazing your heated skin. Haechan’s lips found your ear, his breath warm and teasing as he whispered darkly,

“Let’s see how much you can take.”

Ten’s lips left yours, but his dark eyes never wavered from your face. A slow smirk played on his lips as he studied you—needy, breathless, already trembling. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the thick haze of arousal clouding your mind. “So worked up already, and we’ve barely even touched you.”

Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, his palm searing through the thin fabric of your shorts. He leaned back slightly, gaze raking over your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell with each uneven breath. “You’re acting so shy,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement, “but I can feel how much you want this. You’re practically shaking.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat when Ten’s hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin. He started to grope at your chest, making you whimper. The teasing softness of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, and Haechan let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between the two of them.

Haechan chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying how easily you melted between them. “What’s the matter?” His voice dripped with mockery. “Are you scared? Or are you too busy imagining what it’d be like if we really gave you what you wanted?

Your breath hitched, and warmth rushed to your face at the bluntness of his words. “You’re… you’re both ridiculous,” you managed, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Ten tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Oh, we’re ridiculous?” His fingers trailed down to your ribs, causing you to shudder. “Says the one who just admitted they’ve been fantasizing about a threesome.” He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You’re not very good at hiding how much you want this, you know.”

The warmth in your face spreads down your neck and throughout your whole body. The alcohol was starting to take effect, making you feel hot all over. You instinctively tried to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you locked in place.

“Don’t go running now,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “We’re just getting started.”

Ten’s fingers found your chin again, tilting your face toward his. “That’s right,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’re going to stay right here and take what we give you, aren’t you?”

Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might die in this moment, and when Ten’s lips captured yours again, you felt like you were going to pass out. This kiss was deeper—hungrier—his tongue teasing yours with a deliberate slowness that drove you insane. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped you when Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingertips teasing the edge of your shorts.

Ten pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Why don’t you show us how much you want this?” he said, his tone equal parts coaxing and commanding. “Go ahead, pick one of us.”

Your eyes widened, darting between the two of them. The weight of their gazes, the smugness of their smirks—it was overwhelming. It sent a hot pulse of anticipation pooling between your thighs. Finally, you reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they pressed against Ten’s chest.

His smirk softened into something darker, more possessive. “Good choice,” he murmured, and before you could second-guess yourself, he was pulling you onto his lap. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to straddle him.

“You’re lucky,” Haechan drawled from behind, his tone rich with amusement as he leaned lazily against the headboard, watching the two of you with a grin.

Ten chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides as he kissed you again. This time, his lips and tongue worked with slow, deliberate precision, savoring the way you melted beneath him. Behind you, Haechan’s presence loomed—his gaze burning into your back as he observed every shift, every sound you made.

“You look good like this,” Haechan murmured after a moment, voice low and teasing. “All desperate and needy. I wonder if you’ll look even better bent over for us.”

The words sent a jolt of heat through you, and Ten must have felt it because he smirked against your lips. “Looks like someone likes the sound of that,” he murmured, fingers tightening around your waist. He shifted beneath you, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying this. “Go on, then. Show us what you can do.”

Your breath hitched, but your body moved before your mind could catch up. You slid off Ten’s lap, hands pressing into the mattress as you bent yourself over for Haechan, heat crawling up your neck as you met Ten’s gaze. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. When you hesitated, his hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Don’t be shy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Behind you, Haechan moved closer, his hands sliding over your shoulders as he leaned down to murmur in your ear. “Better make it good,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “We’ve been waiting for this all night.”

The room felt impossibly small, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for Ten, fingers working at his belt. His smirk deepened, and when Haechan’s hands slid down to your waist, pulling you back against him, you realized there was no turning back now.

The soft clink of metal filled the space between you. Ten’s gaze was dark, heavy-lidded with anticipation, watching as you tugged his jeans down just enough to expose the growing bulge straining against his boxers.  

“You’re eager,” Ten murmured, his voice low and teasing, watching as your fingers trembled slightly while sliding under the waistband of his boxers. “I like that.”  

You swallowed hard, unsure if it was his words, the sheer intensity of the moment, or the way Haechan’s grip tightened around your hips that sent another wave of heat coursing through your body.  

“Let me help you with that,” Haechan murmured from behind, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shorts. You gasped softly as he tugged them down, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands.  

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with approval as he let his fingers trail over the curve of your bare ass. “You’ve been hiding this from us?”  

Ten chuckled above you, his fingers threading into your hair. "Don't distract her, Haechan. She has a job to do."

Haechan smirked, his hands lingering for a moment before shifting to his pants. “Fine. But don’t keep all the fun to yourself.”  

You barely had time to process their banter before Ten’s hand guided your head closer, his cock now free and standing tall before you. The sight of it made your stomach twist in nervous excitement, and the weight of his gaze as he looked down at you made your skin tingle.  

“Open up,” he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his tone calm but commanding.  

You parted your lips hesitantly, and he groaned softly as you took him into your mouth, your tongue running along his length as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you. He was thick, and the stretch was enough to make your jaw ache slightly, but the low, breathy curses he let out encouraged you to keep going.  

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you into a steady rhythm. “Just like that.”  

Behind you, Haechan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back until you were bent over in front of him, your knees spread wide. He slid his fingers along your inner thigh, teasingly close but never quite where you needed them most.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness as he slid a finger through your slick folds. You whined softly around Ten’s cock, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.  

“Don’t tease,” Ten muttered, his voice rough with arousal. “You’ll break her before we even get started.”  

Haechan laughed softly, but his teasing didn’t last much longer. He started to finger at your cunt at a rough and delibrate pace. You felt yourself squeezed around him and he took notice of that.

"Mhm, you like this, don’t you, baby? Who would’ve thought you could be such a little slut?"

Your core clenched around his fingers at his degrading words.

“Woah, you’re so needy—it reminds me of last time.”

You froze. Just for a second.

Ten was struggling to keep his composure, drowning in the way you were sucking the life out of him, trying to tune out Haechan’s blabbering. But his ears perked up at those words. Last time?

“Wait… what do you mean by that?” Ten’s voice was sharp now, cutting through the heat in the room.

“Oh? She really didn’t tell you?” Haechan chuckled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Well, that day I came over early to work on our project together… let’s just say she was making a fucking mess in my lap, with my fingers shoved so deep inside her. She was close—so fucking close—until you showed up and cockblocked us.”

Ten stiffened. His grip on you tightened.

He thought he was the only one. Turns out, you’d been spreading your legs for Haechan too.

His voice dropped, laced with something darker. “Is that true, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Shame burned through you. It wasn’t like you meant to lead them on… you just wanted them both.

Your silence pissed him off. His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Answer me.”

For the first time, you felt intimidated by him. A little afraid.

But also… excited.

A part of you liked seeing him like this—possessive.

“Y-yes… it’s true…”

Ten didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes as he suddenly shoved you all the way down to the base of his cock. Your eyes widened, tears welling up as you instinctively gripped the sheets, your throat tightening around him.

“So, I’m guessing, love, you haven’t told Haechan about what we did not too long ago either?”

Haechan’s eyes flicked toward Ten, curiosity piqued. His fingers never slowed as they worked inside you, meticulous, teasing, pushing deeper as he turned his attention toward him.

“Wait… don’t tell me something happened between you two, too.”

Ten smirked. Arrogant. Smug. One hand braced on the mattress as he leaned back slightly, the other still tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he pushed you even deeper on his cock.

“Oh, we did something, alright. Unlike you, I actually made her cum—right on my thigh, at that.”

Haechan’s brows lifted in surprise. He hadn’t realized just how desperate you were. How needy. He gave your ass a light smack, making you jolt, a muffled moan vibrating around Ten’s cock, causing him to moan and throw his head back.

“No way… wow. And here I thought we were the slutty ones.” Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. “But you? You really just like getting passed around by the both us, huh?”

His words alone made your whole body tighten, pleasure pooling low in your stomach. You squirmed, barely able to control yourself. And he noticed.

“Oh? Are you close, sweetie?”

You couldn’t answer. Not properly. But you tried to mouth a desperate "yes" around Ten’s cock, the vibrations of your voice making his hips twitch, sending him closer to the edge. Haechan didn’t waste a second, fingers moving faster, deeper, maliciously curling until you shattered around them, a slick mess pooling beneath you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned, his fingers slowing as he pulled them out, coated in your release. “I can’t believe you came so quick… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched as you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering. Then the rustle of fabric.

A moment later, you felt it—the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your body trembled as he pushed forward, the stretch immediate, overwhelming, sending a gasp tearing from your throat.

“Shit,” Haechan hissed, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you back onto him, sinking inch by inch. “So fucking tight.”

The fullness of him made your thighs shake, made your fingers curl into the sheets. He didn’t give you long to adjust. Not even a second. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, the force knocking the breath from your lungs, making you jolt around Ten’s cock.

“Careful,” Ten warned, though his voice was strained, his fingers flexing in your hair. “She can’t exactly focus on me if you’re going to fuck them like that.”

Haechan only smirked, setting a punishing rhythm, hips snapping against your ass with enough force to make the room echo with the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Maybe I don’t want her to focus,” he shot back, his voice laced with amusement. “I want her to have no thoughts in that pretty head of hers.”

Your moans were muffled, choked by the cock filling your mouth, and the sensation sent Ten spiraling, his hips rocking up to meet you, his grip on your hair unrelenting. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin as he guided you, helping you take him deeper.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with heat. “So eager to please… I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Behind you, Haechan let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding up your waist before gripping you harder. “Guess we bring the slutty side out of them.”

His words were punctuated by a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out around Ten’s cock, your whole body quivering. The overwhelming sensation of being completely filled by both of them made your head spin.

“Shit,” Ten groaned, his fingers tightening. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

Ten’s hips stilled. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a low, guttural moan, his release spilling into your throat. You swallowed on instinct, the warmth flooding your senses as his hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you still for just a moment before he slowly eased you off him.

“Good.” His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his gaze dark, approving. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Before you could catch your breath and process what just happened, Haechan’s hands slid up your back, pressing you down slightly as his thrusts grew rougher. More desperate. Bruising.

And he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“Don’t think I’m letting you off easy,” Ten muttered, his voice taut with restraint as he chased his own release.

Your body trembled, every nerve lit up, tension coiling tighter and tighter. You were long past resistance—willing, desperate, ready to let them take whatever they wanted.

Ten wanted more. Wanted control.

He moved to take Haechan’s place, pushing him aside effortlessly.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you further apart, forcing you open beneath him. Your legs shook as he adjusted you at the very edge of the bed, your head hanging back over the side, hair spilling to the floor. The sudden inversion sent blood rushing to your face, making your vision swim, but the only thing you could focus on was Ten looming over you, his dark, hungry gaze drinking you in like he’d waited his whole life for this.

Behind him, Haechan leaned back lazily in your desk chair, arms crossed, amusement curling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t going anywhere—he wanted to sit back and watch, wanted to see exactly how much of a mess you became beneath Ten. His cock, still slick from your arousal, lay heavy in his hand as he stroked himself leisurely, the sight sending another wave of heat flooding through you.

“Look at you,” Ten murmured, voice smooth, taunting, as he slid his hands up your thighs, thumbs pressing into your soft flesh. “All laid out for us, completely at our mercy. Is this what you wanted all along?”

You turned your face, the heat of shame burning at your chest, but Ten wasn’t having it. His fingers caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don’t get shy now,” he smirked, eyes glinting with something wicked. “You’ve been begging for this for weeks, haven’t you? Strutting around in those little crop tops, teasing us while we worked on that stupid project. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

“You didn’t make it easy for us,” Haechan chimed in, voice dripping with mockery. “Bending over in front of us, dropping pens like it was an accident. You wanted us to look. You wanted us to see what we could do to you.”

“That’s not—”

Your protest was cut off with a sharp thrust, Ten pushing inside, stretching you open inch by inch. A startled gasp tore from your throat as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, filling you completely.

“Don’t lie,” he growled, his voice dropping lower as he gripped your waist, holding you still as your body clenched around him. “Your body doesn’t lie. You’re soaking wet—dripping all over me like you’ve been dying for this.”

The position made every thrust hit impossibly deep, your body arching off the bed as he moved, slow and deliberate at first, dragging pleasure through you with every stroke.

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered from his chair, his hand moving over himself as he watched, eyes heavy-lidded with lust. “You’re really taking him, huh? Bet you’ve been fantasizing about this every time you pretended to hate us.”

“Remember that day you yelled at us for being too loud?” Ten taunted, his pace quickening, each thrust sending a shockwave through you. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and sinful. “Bet the only reason you wanted us to keep coming over was because you were hoping we’d fuck you right then and there. Probably got yourself off to the thought of it, didn’t you?”

Your pride flared, warring with the undeniable truth. You shook your head weakly, but your body betrayed you, hips tilting up, chasing more.

Haechan clicked his tongue, unimpressed. He pushed himself out of the chair, stepping forward, leaning down until his face hovered inches from yours. His hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking himself as he spoke.

“Answer him,” he ordered, voice sharp. “Tell the truth, or we’ll stop right now.”

The thought of them stopping—leaving you like this, empty, aching—was unbearable.

“I…” Your breath hitched, voice barely a whisper. “You’re right. About everything…”

Haechan laughed, low and dark, standing straight again as he resumed stroking himself. “Knew it. You’ve been obsessed with us this whole time.”

Ten groaned at your admission, fingers tightening around your thighs as he thrust into you harder, his control slipping. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, voice ragged. “Can’t believe we wasted all that time working on that stupid project when we could’ve been doing this.”

You whimpered, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as he fucked you faster, the sound of his hips slamming into yours filling the room. Each thrust pushed you closer, every nerve in your body strung so tight you thought you might snap.

“You’re such a mess,” Haechan mused, eyes locked on where Ten disappeared inside you over and over. “Moaning like a desperate little whore, like this is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Ten smirked, leaning down again, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Maybe if you’d just been honest from the start, we could’ve given you this sooner.” His teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to play so hard to get.”

The words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, pleasure ripping through you in an overwhelming wave, a choked cry spilling from your lips as you clenched down hard around him.

Ten cursed under his breath, movements stuttering as your orgasm dragged him closer to his own. And he wasn’t far behind.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice tight as he pounded into you harder, fingers digging into your thighs, sure to leave bruises. "You’re gonna make me—"

Before he could finish, his hips slammed flush against yours, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as warmth flooded deep inside you. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine as he collapsed onto you, breath ragged.

"Don’t think you’re done yet," Haechan’s voice cut through the haze, dark and amused. He stepped closer, cock still hard, still ready. "It’s my turn now."

Ten’s pace never faltered, each thrust deep and ruthless, fucking you through your orgasm like he had no intention of stopping. Your head hung off the edge of the bed, back arched as he drove into you with a force that left your whole body trembling. His grip on your thighs was bruising, possessive, dragging you onto his cock with every sharp snap of his hips.

"Look at you," Ten growled, eyes raking over you, voice rough with hunger. "Taking it so well. Like you were made for this."

A low chuckle came from the side—Haechan, stepping in closer, dark amusement curling at the edge of his voice. "You’re hogging all the fun, Ten. Move over. I’ve got a better idea."

Ten smirked but didn’t stop. "Go ahead. They’ve got a mouth too, don’t they?"

Your chest heaved as Haechan came to stand by the bed, stroking himself lazily, already hard again. His grin was sharp, wicked.

"Open up," he ordered, tone laced with amusement. "You’ve been so good for us so far. Let’s see how much more you can take."

Your body was already shaking from Ten’s relentless thrusts, but the demand in Haechan’s voice sent another shiver through you. Lips parted, breath ragged, you let him grip your face, guiding himself between your lips.

"That’s it," he murmured, mockingly sweet, fingers tightening against your jaw. "Such a good girl, aren’t you? Always eager to please."

The moment he pushed past your lips, Haechan groaned—low, filthy—as he slid deeper, his grip keeping you in place. The angle forced your throat to stretch around him, and at first, he moved slow, savoring it, before picking up speed, using your mouth like it was his to claim.

"Fuck, you feel good," he muttered, voice strained as his fingers curled around your neck, using it like a handle. He thrust deeper, his other hand tangling in your hair. "Always running that mouth, acting like you’re too good for us. Look at you now, getting fucked from both ends."

Ten groaned above you, pace growing erratic as he slammed into you, every drag of his cock against your walls leaving you shuddering, overstimulated and wrecked. "Your such a fucking mess," he muttered through gritted teeth, grip tightening on your thighs. "Can’t get enough, can you? So desperate to be filled up."

Your muffled moans vibrated around Haechan’s cock, making him hiss through his teeth. His hips snapped forward, pushing even deeper, your throat tightening around him as tears welled in your eyes. His fingers dug into your jaw, holding you there.

"Look at you," Haechan purred, voice dripping mockery. "Drooling all over yourself, tears running down your face. You’re such a fucking slut... but you love it, don’t you?"

You could barely think, body trembling, pleasure unraveling into something raw as Ten’s rhythm turned frantic. His grip was almost punishing as he chased his release.

But this time, he didn’t finish inside you. He pulled out, breath heavy, stepping back to stand beside Haechan. His hand wrapped around himself, stroking slow, watching you with a dark, satisfied smirk.

"I’m not done yet," Ten murmured, voice low, commanding. "We’re going to make sure you’re completely covered by the time we’re finished with you."

Haechan chuckled, thrusts turning erratic, both hands now gripping your hair as he fucked your throat deep. "You hear that?" His tone was a promise, sharp and teasing. "You’re not just taking us—you’re going to wear us."

The words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your moans muffled as Haechan’s cock twitched deep in your throat. With a rough groan, he pulled out, moved to where Ten had been, and thrust his length into your dripping cunt. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room as he fucked Ten’s release deeper into you, the filthy sensation making your body tremble.

Soon, it would be his turn to fill you up.

Behind you, Ten stroked himself furiously, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixed on your face.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered, voice thick with arousal.

You obeyed, tongue darting out just as Ten groaned and shoved his cock deep into your throat again. His taste coated your tongue, the lingering traces of his release making you shudder as he pulsed against the tight warmth of your mouth.

Haechan grunted, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing your legs up, nearly folding you in half as he picked up the pace. His cock drove into you mercilessly, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that had your body convulsing beneath him.

Once again, you were being fucked from both ends, completely at their mercy.

You never could have imagined this happening—all of it, just because of some stupid project. But now? You couldn’t be more satisfied with the outcome. The way Haechan’s cock bullied that sensitive spot inside you, the way Ten’s length filled your throat, stretching it with every ruthless thrust—it was overwhelming in the best way.

A loud, muffled scream tore from your throat, but it was swallowed by Ten’s cock as he fucked into your mouth with a brutal pace. The sounds in the room were obscene, bouncing off the walls—your muffled cries, the wet slap of Haechan’s hips against you, the rhythmic creaking of the bedframe as it slammed against the wall. Your tears only turned them on more, and you felt them harden inside you.

You clenched hard around Haechan, your walls gripping him tight as the intensity built inside you, your orgasm just out of reach. He felt it, groaning as he dug his fingers into your thighs.

“Oh, you’re close, aren’t you?” His voice was strained, breathless. “F-fuck… I think I am too. Ten, how’re you holding up over there?”

“Shit, I’m right there,” Ten panted, his grip tightening in your hair as he fucked your throat harder.

That was all it took for them to lose control.

Ten came first, spilling across your tongue, the warmth of it coating your lips and dripping down your chin. His breath hitched as he pulled back, watching the mess he’d made of you, satisfaction clear in his dark eyes.

Haechan wasn’t far behind. He cursed low under his breath, thrusting deep one final time as he came, filling you to the brim before pulling out, the last spurts of his release spilling across your stomach and chest, hot and sticky against your skin.

“Fuck,” Ten grunted, stepping back to admire his work. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as he smirked. “You look perfect like this. Completely ruined.”

Haechan chuckled, trailing his fingers through the mess on your face before gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “And to think you wanted to get rid of us,” he mused, voice dripping amusement. “Now look at you. Completely fucked out by us.”

The room was thick with heat, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, your body trembling from the sheer intensity of it all.

Haechan smirked, brushing his fingers lazily down your thigh, a silent reminder of the claim he’d left on you. There was still hunger in his eyes, but beneath the cocky exterior, something softer flickered there. “You really outdid yourself,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d last this long. Guess we underestimated you.”

He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, leaning against the desk with that same smug grin. “What did I tell you? All those little outfits, all that attitude—you were just waiting for this to happen. Should’ve made a move sooner.”

You were too exhausted to reply, your body still thrumming from the aftershocks. You lay there, head hanging off the edge of the bed, limbs boneless, chest heaving as you tried to process everything. Their gazes were heavy on you, but for once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

Instead, a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You two are… so annoying,” you muttered weakly.

Ten and Haechan both laughed.

“Annoying?” Haechan echoed, crouching beside you. His fingers gripped your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You weren’t saying that a few minutes ago, sweetheart”

Ten leaned in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his smirk softening just a little. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice smooth.“We’ll give you time to recover… but don’t think this will be the last time you will see us.”  

The weight of his words sent a fresh jolt of heat through you, despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Haechan caught it, the way your eyes widened slightly, and let out a low chuckle.

“For now,” Ten continued, fingers trailing down your arm, “we should clean you up. Can’t have you looking like this all night, can we?”

Haechan stretched, grabbing a towel from the desk before tossing it to Ten. His grin never faded. “And after that? Maybe we’ll play another game,” he mused, teasing. “Who knows? You might be able to go another round.”

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face as you let your head sink back against the mattress. “You two are crazy,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

Ten laughed, wiping you down with surprisingly gentle hands. “You love that though,” he murmured, certain.

And as you lay there, your body exhausted but your heart pounding with the lingering adrenaline, you realized you couldn’t argue with him…

[imaginesig]

In Every Realm

SMAU

Aaron Taylor Johnson x Wife!Reader

Yn is the muse of the brilliant Robert Eggers, she has been in multiple of his films. When she is casted in "Nosferatu" the entire cast becomes family, in some cases literally.

Idea sent by @ateliefloresdaprimavera

ynjohnson

liked by lilyrosedepp, aarontaylorjohnson, johnnydepp, and 928,928 others

ynjohnson always a good day when I get to celebrate family! Lily-Rose I love you to the moon and back!! Have the best birthday ever, you deserve it 🩷🩷

tagged: lilyrosedepp

lilyrosedepp I love you!!!

lilyrosedepp the second photo 😭

ynjohnson moments before we choreographed a Disney dance number

ellefanning Happy Birthday Lily-Rose!!

nicholashoult Have a great birthday Lily-Rose!!

aarontaylorjohnson Happy birthday to the best cousin-in-law I could've asked for!

user1 ugh the best cousin duo ever

user2 I could only dream to be so iconic

user3 imagine showing up to family holiday and you see Yn and Lily-Rose in the corner

user4 and then Aaron Taylor Johnson shows up

user5 what a stacked family

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Twitter--

Instagram--

ynjohnson

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ynjohnson oh rumours! How they fly!

tagged: no one

comments have been disabled

Twitter--

Instagram--

ynjohnson

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ynjohnson from a fresh faces, young actress to now, mine and Robert's careers have been interconnected. We constantly go back and forth about potential projects and I've had the pleasure to act in for him several times. I am so excited to be apart of his dream come true!!

Lily-Rose, I am over the moon to finally work with you! You are one of the most talented actresses I know and I cannot wait to see your brilliance up close 🫶🫶

Aaron, my love, it is an absolute honor to be your wife in life and now on screen 🤍🤍

tagged: aarontaylorjohnson, lilrosedepp

lilyrosedepp I love you!!! This is going to be the best movie yet

ynjohnson 🩷🩷

aarontaylorjohnson you are such an admirable women, I love you 🤍🤍

ynjohnson 😘

robberteggers_ lets make the movie of the year

ynjohnson hell yea!!

user1 I am way to excited about this!!!

user2 always a good day when Yn is in a Robert movie

user3 also the rest of the cast is stacked

user4 I need it now!!!!

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Time Skip-- Middle of Production

Twitter--

Interview--

Instagram--

aarontaylorjohnson

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aarontaylorjohnson "Kraven the Hunter" is in theaters today!!

tagged: kraven_movie

arianadebose 👏👏👏

ynjohnson DAYUM

ynjohnson THATS MY MAN

ynjohnson YOU BITCHES MAY LOOK BUT YOU CAN'T TOUCH

aarontaylorjohnson my love, I'm flattered 🤭

user1 they're both insane

user2 matching each others freak

user3 Mrs. Johnson I am looking respectfully ✋🥵

user4 the creme jacket is making me feral

user5 the last pic, he's so babygirl

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Time Skip-- Nosferatu Wrap

Instagram--

aarontaylorjohnson

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aarontaylorjohnson post-wrap holiday 🤍🤍

tagged: ynjohnson

ynjohnson best surprise ever!! I love you 🤍🤍

aarontaylorjohnson I love you too my angel

user4 "my angel" SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

user1 ok Aaron, we get it your wife is hot 🙄🙄

user2 he said let me flex real quick

user3 God its me again 🙏🙏

user5 I need this more than life

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ynjohnson

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ynjohnson get away with my love 🤍

tagged aarontaylorjohnson

aarontaylorjohnson 🤍🤍

user1 not them both posting a thirst trap of the other 💀

user2 and if I was in a hot ass relationship like them I would too

user3 ugh I need him in a way thats concerning to feminism

user4 I'm glad to see they still take time for their relationship/each other even with their hectic schedules

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lilyrosedepp posted a story!

caption: cousins day out!! @/ynjohnson

ynjohnson posted a story!

caption: she's actually my favorite person ever @/lilyrosedepp

Time Skip-- Press Tour

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Instagram--

ynjohnson

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ynjohnson press tour is over which marks the end of my official "Noferatu" duties 😭 I will forever cherish this film and its cast!! I eagerly await to see what you all do next 🫶🫶

tagged: no one

Brittany_broski thou shalt not forget thou's final quest

ynjohnson i shan't your majesty

aarontaylorjohnson picture of excellence that final photo is

ynjohnson a real man you are

lilyrosedepp I miss you already!!

ynjohnson 🩷🩷🩷

user1 she's gorgeous

user2 her outfits ate every interview

user3 she was amazing in the movie

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royalcourt

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royalcourt citizens of Broski Nation, attention! Please welcome to the council Aaron Taylor Johnson, royal ass kicker, four legged freak of the realm!

tagged: aarontaylorjohnson

aarontaylorjohnson a privilege and an honor

ynjohnson MY TWO FAV PEOPLE!!!

user1 omg this was the best video every

user2 they work so well together

user3 the only video on the internet

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royalcourt

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royalcourt hear ye, hear ye!! A new member has been added to the royal court! Please welcome the fairest maiden in all the land, Yn Johnson!!

tagged: ynjohnson

ynjohnson I've never had more fun in my life!!

aarontaylotjohnson be my princess @/ynjohnson?

ynjohnson in this realm and the next 🤍

user1 this was the best thing ever

user2 between this and Aaron's episode this couple has once again broken the internet

user3 I'm in love with her your honor

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[halosmin]

and i’ll be missing you

the mission wasn’t long — four days, from tuesday to friday evening. it wasn’t anything new, not for zayne. it wasn’t like he didn’t have his hands full either, with a packed week of appointments, occasional lectures to speak in, and a surgery the night before you came home. as far as he was concerned, time would breeze by and he’d be picking you up again in no time.

except that’s not what happened.

instead, zayne found himself on thursday at a loss, staring at the neat stack of journals and projects he planned to read through on his coffee table, fingers tapping lightly against the pages in his hand.

despite keeping busy, the silence was heady.

every few pages, he found himself glancing at his phone across the table, unable to help perking up when it illuminated only to find it was just another promo text from the cafe between the hospital and your workplace. a smile tugged at his lips as he saw the famous words ‘buy one, get one!’ on the screen, only to gust over with a sigh.

“if only you were here…” zayne murmured, setting his phone beside him to see a mass of white and red fluff tumble to the edge of the sofa. with a swift stretch of his arm, he pulls it back, and when he looks down at it, an undeniable ache tugs at his chest.

the warm snowman you two had snagged from the claw machine the day before you left sat in his hands, his fingers squeezing the wider bottom of the plushie with a chuckle. the sight of your wide, sparkling eyes the moment they landed on the plushie plays in his head, and for a second he can almost feel your hand tugging him along to the machine.

he recalls the words as if it were yesterday.

“we are not leaving without it…”

zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your determined gaze, the way you stood at the machine, hands on either side of the controls, focus solely locked onto that snowman plushie.

“what’s particularly special about this one?”

in the reflection of the glass, your gaze softened, lips curving into a pout almost immediately as if he had offended you in the highest regard. when you turned your head, he couldn’t help the heat that started to sneak onto his cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears.

“it’s me… and my happy snowman is you.”

zayne gave the snowman plush in his hands another soft squeeze, a smile playing on his lips as he sat up and near the edge of the sofa again.

“i guess this counts,” he said, almost a whisper as if someone would hear him in the privacy of his home. “but i don’t think you’d be good to take to the cafe…”

another sigh.

with a swift motion, zayne rose from the sofa with the warm snowman in hand, setting it down at your spot on the counter. without skipping a beat, he made his way to the refrigerator, taking out leftovers from the night, lingering on the tray of eggs before he brought them out too.

while his leftover honey and herb chicken reheated in the microwave, he rummaged through the pantry to find the remaining ingredients, everything he needed to make brownies — the ones you practically begged for on his days off and his favorite for that reason.

between eating dinner and meticulously adding the ingredients in a bowl, zayne couldn’t help but steal glances at the plushie at the corner of the counter. if you were here, you definitely wouldn’t be this quiet, he thought, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he poured the mix into a baking dish, turning around to set it in the oven. without a second thought, he brought the rest of his dinner to his seat beside warm snowman, eating in a strangely comfortable silence while the oven clock counted down.

by the time zayne finished and cleaned up the dishes, the soft ring brought his attention back to the sweets in the oven. with care he brought them out, the warm, comforting aroma of the brownies washing over him, his shoulders easing from the tension he didn’t even notice until now.

that and a weight of fatigue, from the week of work or the slightest ache that lingered the more he thought about — no, the more he missed you. undoubtedly a bit of both, but if he had to be honest, the latter most.

as zayne covered the brownies, loose enough to let them cool properly, he stifled a yawn, cleaning up a few scattered crumbs on the counter before taking the warm snowman in his arm.

“i’ll check on that later, but you’re coming with me…”

he brought the plushie with him as he made his way to the bedroom, the night setting a cozy mood that made his eyelids heavier upon entering. setting the snowman plushie down, he found himself mumbling as he walked into the closet, already prying away at his clothing in exchange for pajamas.

“i’ll be right back love…”

zayne let out a soft hum, a hand running through his hair as he stepped into the bathroom, reaching for his toothbrush in the spot by yours. brushing with swift, intentional motions, he wasted no time freshening up before sitting on the bed, the plushie tumbling to his side as if eager to be close to him just like you would.

“mm… just like your mom,” he chuckled, taking the warm snowman in his hands again before his eyes landed on the clock — only 7:30 pm. pulling himself to his feet again, zayne went back to the living room and plopped down on the sofa, the plushie still in his embrace as he turned a random show on.

for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel a little silly taking the snowman plush around with him. yet as silly as it felt, zayne couldn’t deny that it made his heart warm, almost as if you were back in his arms, snuggling up beside him as the show faded in the background… slipping into slumber…

hours later, you slowly pried the door to zayne’s place open, lip between your teeth as you tried to withhold a smile, anticipating the surprise on his face when he saw you. what you didn’t expect was to find him out on the sofa, a random show playing on the television.

and when you slip off your shoes and tiptoe to his side, you certainly weren’t expecting to see the warm snowman you had won wrapped up in his arms, tight against his chest, the companion to the one you had brought on your mission. it was then that you realized what had unfolded, the plushie and the unforgettable scent of zayne’s special brownies putting the biggest smile on your face — he missed you this bad.

reaching forward, you graze the back of your fingers along his cheek, down his jawline and zayne stirs, his hold tightening on the plushie. your heart swells with a familiar feeling, and without a moments hesitation, you gently wrap your arms around his shoulders, lips beside his ear, lulling your sleeping snowman awake.

“i’m here now zaynie… let’s go to bed…”

[gracie-eilish]

roommate billie au [pt 3.5] technically a bonus part bc i got excited about a long idea hehe]

warnings: angst if you tilt your head and squint with your glasses off, spicy innuendo/smut like reaction (no smut)

an: update!! it was @bililyy who inspired me!!! go check out her headcanon/blurb combos!! literally such a creative way to write stories/headcanons!! i hope you don’t mind me taking inspiration🥺🩷

roommate!billie, who texted or called you everyday over the winter break.

roommate!billie, who was scared shitless you’d regret the kiss.

roommate!billie, who still wanted to respect your space to figure out your sexuality. and was prepared to love you regardless of what you decided.

billie: if you ever need someone to talk to about it, you know you can talk to me, but i totally get it if you’d rather talk to someone else.

you: billie ur the only one i wanna talk to about this shit. none of my friends back home are gay, and im not this close with anyone else at school so..

billie: well i’m here whenever you need baby. i’m free right now if you wanna ft?

you: not right now. i’m about to go out with my family, but maybe when i get home??

billie: i’ll be here love.

read 6:12pm

roommate!billie, who could feel it… she was so down bad for you. in just a short six months, you had wrapped billie around your little finger.

roommate!billie, who’s family loved you but was sick of hearing about you day in and day out while billie was still home from school.

“i mean i don’t know how she does it,” finneas closed his eyes and sighed, still poking away at the monitor, working on an song of his own. but listened to his little sister gab anyway.

“she’s just so pretty. she always looks so perfect, like hair and makeup done up, cute little outfits, and her perfume, holy shit her perfume, it’s like a drug. i genuinely feel drugged when she sprays it or walks by me. fuck she’s got me under this little spell of hers..”

“billie, i think you need to tell her how you feel. it’s just gonna eat away at you for the rest of the year if you don’t.” billie sat and thought about it for a second.

“but what if she doesn’t feel the same? or what if she decides she’s not gay? then i just have to live with this angelic siren for the rest of the year, pretending not to fall in love with her??”

roommate!billie, who couldn’t sleep the night before move in for the spring semester. she was so excited to see you.

roommate!billie, who didn’t even hug her family goodbye after lunch. just jumped out of their car, calling a goodbye over her shoulder, practically sprinting up the stairs to your little dorm.

roommate!billie, who felt the world stop when she saw the faintest flush on your cheeks when she opened the door. maybe this could work…

roommate!billie, who engulfed you in the softest, warmest hug known to man. it was slow, tight, her thumbs brushing your clothed skin while she breathed in your scent, intoxicating herself on you. above anything else, she was just happy to see her best friend again.

roommate!billie, who trailed behind you like a puppy all day. messing with you while you both unpacked, trailed around the grocery store behind you, watched as you drove back and forth into town and back.

roommate!billie, who suggested having a cozy, movie night in, since classes didn’t start until monday. so you stocked up on snacks, changed into comfy pjs and got settled.

roommate!billie, who set up her new projector she got for christmas while you were in the shower. hanging up a sheet, and projecting it onto the wall next to your bed. she stacked pillows and blankets onto her bed across the room.

“ta-da!” she exclaimed, as you walked out of the bathroom, clad in pjs and a towel around your hair.

“wait shut the fuck up this is so cute!!! did you get this for christmas!” billie nodded proudly from her perch on the small bed.

you two made small talk as you dried your hair enough so it wouldn’t drip, and billie picked a movie out.

roommate!billie, who felt like her heart may beat out of her chest, when you automatically snuggled into her side, letting her wrap an arm around your waist.

roommate!you, who had never felt so safe or cherished in a relationship.. no, friendship.. or.. situationship?? whatever you two were… before.

roommate!billie, who carefully tested the waters, moving her hand to rest on your hip, right where your hoodie and sweatpants met. letting her hand rest for a few, before letting her hand slip under your hoodie to rest on the bare skin of your hip. her heart fluttered when you didn’t move.. just snuggled your head more into her shoulder.

roommate!you, who tried to mask your gasp when you felt billie’s soft fingers resting on your bare hip. you snuggled your head into her shoulder further, hoping to distract from the way you clenched your thighs together masking the wetness starting to drip between them… you’d never felt that before from a relationship..

roommate!billie, who once again, didn’t move a muscle once you had fallen asleep on her shoulder. simply just turning off the projector screen and moving the snack bags away from the two of you.

roommate!billie, who eventually needed to wake you up, as sleeping on your side like that would give you a crick in your neck.

“baby,” she whispered. “baby, i gotta move you or your gonna hurt your neck.”

you simply whined in protest, still barely awake, but not enjoying the movement to your cozy position.

“i know, so sleepy and grumpy,” she cooed, biting back a laugh. “…you wanna stay here?” she closed her eyes bracing herself for rejection.

you nodded against her shoulder. sitting up slightly so billie could lay back. before billie could even lay still, you had flopped down onto billie’s chest leaving her surprised… but melted quickly after. wrapping an arm around your back, while the other threaded into your hair. you sighed sleepily, nuzzling your nose on her neck.

roommate!billie, who checked her phone real quick. the date, january 18th, screamed at her. it wasn’t even the first day of the semester yet and she was falling even harder.

roommate!you, who for the first time in your life didn’t need a eye mask, or air conditioning, or purple humidifier light to sleep. you slept more peaceful than you ever had before that night.

… and so did billie. leaving a kiss to your forehead before drifting off herself.

[myeyebagsaredesigner]

Tim and Damian piss Jason enough that the next week Jason is their Literature teacher in the School

HAHAHAHAHSDFSHKSD OMG YES

Tim and Damian may not be close, but they're always willing to team up and mess with Jason. They think it's funny. Jason does not. His frustration has been slowly building throughout the past few weeks until finally, he gets glitter bombed after a rough patrol. Post clean up, post shower, about to get into bed, he opens up his clothes drawer and BOOM. Glitter. He has had enough.

He sends a text to them reading 'I'm done with this. Pray for your fucking lives' and gets to work on coming up with a revenge plan. Beat them up? A classic, but too basic. Screw with their patrol routes? Nah, that would just piss Bruce off, and he's not interested in that right now. He knows a few of Black Mask's goons.. maybe he can use them to mess with them? No.. the last time he used Mask's henchmen for revenge behind his back, he was sent a very strongly worded text message. He had to apologize with freshly baked cookies.

He remembers Tim and Damian talking about a literature project. Something about having to choose a book to read for class work. Apparently, Tim is struggling with his book and Damian hasn't even started his. He can steal the books? Tear out a few pages so they don't get the full story?

Wait.

Wait just a minute.

Jason has a degree in English.

He.. he can use this.

He does end up getting help from Mask's goons (with permission, of course), and suddenly their teacher is nowhere to be found and they're stuck with a substitute. They think it's great. Damian uses that time to draw and Tim brings his switch to school for the week and it's awesome.

On Monday the next week, Tim gets a very bad feeling while walking into school. He asks Damian if he feels weird, and he admits that something feels a bit off. They wander into class and find it completely rearranged. Where there used to be a silly alphabet poster, there is now a Hamlet quote. The bright red curtains were replaced with black. On the desk, two books- are those Tim and Damian's books??- are stacked on top of each other, a skull resting on top. The sub isn't there. In fact, Damian swears he saw them walk into a different classroom.

They sit down at a desk, not their usual one, seeing as the desks were moved from groups to lines, and wait. The bell rings and the door slams open, Jason strutting in. They both sit there in shock as their brother sets his stuff down and writes 'Mr. T' on the board. He turns around and smirks at them before turning to the rest of the class.

Jason: "Hello everyone, you can call me Mr. T. I will be your new English Literature teacher for the year."

Student: "You don't look like a teacher.."

Jason, narrowing his eyes: "And you don't look like you're going to pass my class."

Student:

Jason: "That's what I thought.. everybody up. I'm assigning seats."

He switches everybody around, placing Tim and Damian in the front row on opposite sides. He claims he heard something about a project, and he will be collecting it now, seeing as the due date was that day. Tim and Damian watch as the majority of their class hands in the work in shame and slight fear. Jason calls on them for their work and they have to admit to the class that they didn't do it. They receive ten fat F's.

When Jason begins his teaching year, he uses it to torment his brothers. He makes them read aloud, calls on them to answer questions they don't know, curves the lessons to ones they struggle with, etc. Eventually though, he finds that he actually enjoys teaching. His class seems to like him too. He's a fairly young guy who doesn't try to act like he's all professional, and he teaches the lessons in a way that makes them interested. Tim and Damian hate it, and are the only ones who seem to not like the new teacher.

When he leaves at the end of the year, he receives a bunch of flowers and gifts and cards from his students. He cries.

Years later, the kids will come up to him when they see him on the street. He gets told about what new books they're reading, what they're majoring in, how they're doing. A couple kids tell him that he inspired them to study English Literature, and he feels like he's on top of the world. He gets invited to the wedding of two of his students who he assigned together for group work. He's invited to college graduations. They even have a book club that he occasionally goes to.

Tormenting his brothers is the best