#.. honestly the first thing I have in mind is to apologies to the people I tagged in the post

[8r14r-r0s3]

Ì don't think a piece of media has fucked me up as much as tetro has. Like Jesus fucking christ. It's frankly horrifyingly realistic how none of the characters are recognizable. They're all broken.

Wada's regressed in every way possible. His selective mutism came back as a stress reaction. He hasn't eaten in a week. And just like into the game, he has no one. But now it's even worse, because now instead of never having them, each and every one of them slipped through his fingers. It's unlikely he'll actually be able to locate any of the other students, and before the game he was struggling to make ends meet. Now he doesn't even have a coping mechanism. Isono is gone. He'll never be able to view a streamer the same way again. His eating habits aren't going to get better when he's completely and utterly alone. He's going to starve to death. Wada Masanari died in the killing game, just like Isono, Tsuno, Watari, and Hama. And with them gone, his stumbling husk will meet their same fate.

Mai. God Mai. She fought through everything. She shouldered every burden, she made every sacrifice, she befriended every last person, and in the end, it wasn't enough. Hayashi Mai was broken. She was physically tortured, she lost any semblance of feeling safe, she lost parts of her body, and she fought through it all until the very last second. She died fighting, I doubt it was just shock, her hands were cut because she wanted to try to save herself. But in the end, Hayashi Mai lost the fight. She fell on the sword for everyone else. Hayashi Mai died in the killing game. And what's left of her body will remain in a burned down school in an underground cavern to rot.

Ojima seemingly lost nothing, but Ojima also lost everything. At first he was genuinely trying his best to be a leader for the group, almost like a second in command to sasaki at some points, but he lost his privacy and then everyone pitied him. Ojima was close with no one, but he was close with everyone. Ojima wasn't well socialized, he views every person who continues to be near him a friend, it's why he always calls people by their first names. While Ojima lost no one, Ojima lost everyone. He had what was left of his innocence defiled. He no longer felt safe within his own mind, he was scared he would hurt someone, he forced himself to stay afloat in an ocean with no bouys but a million whirlpools, and he broke. Ojima Takeshi died in the killing game just like Sasaki. And now he exists as an adult, stripped of his blissful ignorance of the world, and now way to escape the horrors he's seen.

Hiroaki. Where to even begin with Hiroaki. He was hurting when he entered the killing game, and he was hurting when he left it. He was broken, and slowly he tried to fix himself, and he was broken again by the people he hurt, and eventually he couldn't find the strength to fix himself. He's using again. He has been fairly clean for a few weeks, and now he's using again. He at least used to have his ego to fall back on, but now? Now he's nothing. He says his own name like it's an insult. He's done horrible things and hurt the people around him. Every character from Isono to Yanagi, he all hurt them somehow. And he didn't get the chance to apologize to most of them, and he has to live with the guilt that he didn't. It's honestly doubtless that Hiroakis behavior patterns are only going to get worse. He has his drug supply back, he's back with those same faux friends, and he's separated from the people he's grown to actually care about. Hiroaki Nakamigawa died in the killing game, just like Sasaki, Chiba, and Tsuno. And what's left of his facade has to continue through his old routine and go through his same habits, but with none of the artificial joy they used to provide.

Tamba is ruined. Her career is over. Her parents aren't going to give her the kind of love she's desperate for. She's looked in the mirror and seen the worst, ugliest, most horrible parts of herself. She's a coward, she's a backstabber, and she's a hypocrite. And worst of all, Tamba survived. Out of everyone who died. Isono, Sasaki, Chiba, Harada, Kamimura, Tsuno, Watari, Hama, Mai, and Hasegawa. Tamba Ruiko survived but they didn't, and she has to live with that forever. When she was cruel, when she was angry, when she bit the hands reaching out to her, and when they did everything they could to be safe. But Tamba is alive. But she isn't. Tamba Ruiko died in the killing game, just like Kamimura, Watari, and Mai. And now what's left of her broken body has to live in the shadows of their lives.

Hasegawa lost. He was a winner. He was a champion. And he lost. Everything about his life in the killing game was fundamentally unfair. He did his best to do everything right and protect the people he loved and he lost. Then he did his best to hurt the people he felt let his best friend die, and he lost. They were going to lose. He was going to win. But due to forces outside of his control, he lost. Hasegawa lost the only things keeping him steady. His meds ran out weeks ago. Kamimura died weeks ago. And now he's rotting in the med bay. He didn't have the energy to care about the people reaching out to him, and when he did get his energy back, the only thing he wanted to do was get revenge. To make them suffer the same loss he suffered, to make them understand a fraction of what it felt like. Hasegawa Ken died in the killing game the exact moment Okazaki killed Kamimura. And then with what little he had left in him, he took the blade from Okazaki's cold hands and plunged it into Hayashi.

Yanagi Shigeki became what he despises. He's nothing like who he used to be and he'll never be able to go back. One by one the layers of his facade he had built up over the years were stripped away. First he lost his faith when Sasaki killed Isono. Then he lost his dignity when he broke and hurt Nakamigawa. Then he lost his prince guise when he continued to fail time and time again to please and protect the people around him. Then, he lost Mai. He lost his knights oath. The one thing he has left was that he had Mai, he had her and he was loyal to her and he was at her service and he was going to hold onto her and die before he let go. But he was forced to. He was locked in a room with all his failures as the one flicker success he had was snuffed out. And now, he's angry. He's angry and upset and he's violent. He's exactly what he despises, a violent man who scares people. He feels deserving of death, because those kind of men are deserving of death. Yanagi Shigeki died in the killing game just like Sasaki, Tsuno, Watari, and Mai. And now, all that's left of him is everything he despises, and with nothing but hatred in his heart, he's forced to return to the people who would fear him most

This wasn't a happy ending. It was never going to be a happy ending. They're alive. The five of them are alive, but they're all dead. Everything that made them *them* when they entered the game was destroyed. Sasaki was right. Children are their best before they become aware of the horrors of the world.

Goodbye, Tetro Danganronpa Pink. Goodbye Isono Miki. Goodbye Harada Keizou. Goodbye Chiba Airi. Goodbye Kamimura Kazutoshi. Goodbye Hayashi Mai. Goodbye Wada Masanari. Goodbye Sasaki Hitomi. Goodbye Ojima Takeshi. Goodbye Okazaki Hanano. Goodbye Hama Ran. Goodbye Tsuno Manami. Goodbye Hiroaki Nakamkgawa. Goodbye Tamba Ruiko. Goodbye Hasegawa Ken. Goodbye Watari Nishino. Goodbye Yanagi Shigeki. It was an honor to meet you all, and wherever you are, I hope you're happy. You all deserve it. You were all just children, broken, innocent, scared children. And while you may never be innocent again, I hope you can still be happy.

And thank you most to Von Babbit, the voice actors, and the editors. Thank you for giving me the honor to experience your art. I will never be the same again, but that's okay. Because you guided me here. I'm not lost, I'm not afraid, I'm just somewhere new. And I think it's beautiful here.

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[fairestwriting]

Hello. I was wondering if I can please request the Savannaclaw boys reacting to accidentally walking in on fem!reader changing in Ramshackle? Knowing how much beastmen respect/fear women I feel like that would be hilarious 😆

IVE BEEN WANTING TO DO THIS ONE FOR A WHILE…. my women respecting kings..

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

If you’ve known Leona for any amount of time, especially enough time for him to be visiting you for whatever reason, you know that he’s pretty much allergic to actually saying sorry. So the weirdly meek ”My bad, should’ve knocked. that he mutters can be very surprising to hear.

Even if you’re really close and comfortable with each other, he won’t be much more laid back about it. Sorry allergy be damned, he’s still apologizing and looking away every single time. Unless you actually stated, in straightforward words, that you don’t care if he walks in on you. He’d probably still close the door even in that case, honestly.

Even if you tease him for how quickly he puts aside his pride for this specific situation, Leona won’t argue against it. At most he’ll reply back with a snarky ”What, was I supposed to just stay and gawk?”, like the sheer idea of doing that is insane to him. And it genuinely is. If he notices you’re embarrassed yourself, right when he closes the door, he’ll quickly and plainly assure that he didn’t see anything. It may or may not be true, he has pretty sharp eyes, but— Really, he wasn’t raised in a barn. Leona does, in fact, have quite a few lines he won’t cross when teasing people.

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

With Ruggie, it doesn’t matter if you’re his friend, his girlfriend, or just an acquaintance. He will immediately turn away and shut the door. Whatever the reason was for his visit can wait, no matter what it is. ”Eek, sorry, I’ll wait outside! Uhm, and I won’t forget to knock next time!” He says, his pitch uncharacteristically high.

It’s not like he’s shy or scared you’ll get really mad or anything like that? He knows very well it’s not a big deal, it was an accident and he genuinely didn’t even look. Turning away instantly is just the right thing to do, in his mind. It’s probably not even the first time he walks in on a girl while she changes, considering he has his fair share of friends back home.

He apologizes again when you’re done, even bowing his head as he speaks, and promises he didn’t look at all if you seem embarrassed. And he really didn’t— Instinct just kicks in the second his brain registers the presence of bare skin. Literally right in the millisecond that it detected an unusual amount of whatever color your skin is.

Pretty much goes back to his usual self after everything is settled. Again, it’s just the right thing to do, to him. The natural thing to do even. You could try to express you don’t mind him seeing you, but regardless of what your reasoning is, Ruggie just shrugs and says, a bit awkwardly, that he just can’t bring himself to do that. It’s straight up not an option.

𐙚 Jack Howl

Gets flustered like he’s making up for Leona and Ruggie’s lack of real embarrassment— ”C-Close the door properly next time! He stutters, covering his face that grows increasingly red as he fumbles with the doorknob to close it, almost tripping on his feet.

He doesn’t react as fast as Leona or Ruggie, but just because he doesn’t really notice visuals as quickly as they do. So even though he’s technically the only one who lingered around the door, it’s unlikely he actually stared, even unintentionally.

He’s stuck between wanting to chide you for forgetting the lock and knowing deep in his soul that he should absolutely not do that, he was the one who showed up earlier than he was supposed to, he’s the one in the wrong here. In the end he doesn’t really say anything while he waits for you to finish getting dressed. Maybe just a mumbled apology or two, depending on how you reacted.

Can’t really look you in the eyes for a few hours. He just feels bad about it, like he’s been really rude to you by accident. Compared to the culture of other beastmen subspecies, especially Ruggie and Leona’s, his doesn’t emphasize a respect for women specifically as much, but it’s definitely still a thing. And it’s just part of his character too, underneath that tough guy persona, he doesn’t want to disrespect anybody. It takes him some reassurance to stop feeling guilty.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[mssishipi]

devil in disguise — sjy

— anon asked: infidelity with jake would go crazy bro like he’d be saying “you’re so disgusting” and it’s true it disgusts him how his bestfriend’s pussy milks his cock

warning: cheating, jake is an asshole, explicit content (smut): unprotected sex, degradation. MDNI.

It was almost laughable—how you always clung to Jake's side, no matter what he did, no matter how much trouble he got himself into. It was as if loyalty blinded you, shielding you from the truth everyone else could see so clearly.

You were an angel, the one his parents adored, the soft-hearted girl who couldn't even bring herself to harm a fly.

Polite, gentle, the kind of person who would apologize even when someone else stepped on your foot.

It was hilarious how you always had an excuse for him, always a justification on the tip of your tongue every time he do something.

Like that time when he got into a fight because of some fraternity nonsense. His parents had been furious.

And yet, there you were, standing in front of them, your eyes wide, your voice trembling with conviction.

"Jake defended me!"

Except that was a lie.

Jake hadn't been defending you. He don't care. The guy had simply pissed him off. He always did. It had nothing to do with you, but you refused to see that. Maybe it was easier that way—to pretend Jake had some noble reason, that his fists weren't just another weapon he wielded whenever he felt like it.

It was almost amusing—the way you always listened to him, how you followed him around ever since the two of you were kids.

You were the kind of best friend who never strayed too far, always orbiting around him, always there. He wasn't sure if he should find it endearing or just plain irritating. Maybe a bit of both.

He could do the most questionable things, and without fail, you'd always have his back.

"Thank you, Jaeyun-ah! You know I don't like Jungwon—he's always ranked first. He deserves to be caught cheating."

You grinned at him, clutching your notebook to your chest as if he had done you some great favor. But Jake hadn't done it for you. He hadn't even thought of you when he slipped that answer key into Jungwon's bag. He was just bored, looking for something to break the monotony. Watching the teachers drag Jungwon to the disciplinary office had simply been an added bonus.

"It's okay, Jaeyun-ah! What you're feeling is valid. I'm sure Yuta deserved that punch—he's a creep."

You had been so quick to reassure him. But Yuta wasn't a creep. Jake had made that up on a whim, an excuse to put the guy in his place, to see him crumble. Because he was bored.

It was almost amusing—how you, of all people, always knew the difference between right and wrong. You were kind, the type to preach fairness, to stand up for what was just.

And yet, when it came to him, all of that fell apart. You always had an excuse, always a justification ready on your lips, as if his actions existed outside the rules that applied to everyone else.

Sim Jaeyun had you wrapped around his finger so effortlessly, it was pathetic.

And honestly, it was disgusting.

"Jaeyun-ah!" you squealed, your voice breaking into a moan as your fingers dug into his back, clinging to him. Your breath hitching as he hit that spot over and over again.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. His phone buzzed relentlessly on the bedside table, the screen flashing with his girlfriend's name. Over and over, the call came, the shrill ring cutting through the muffled sound of skin slapping against skin. But neither of you moved. Neither of you cared.

It was disgusting—how easily you spread your legs for him, how willingly you became his escape whenever she couldn't satisfy him. You never hesitated, never even flinched when he came to you, already knowing what he wanted.

He still loved his girlfriend. With everything he had. But she could never give him the kind of mind-numbing, toe-curling release that you did.

"It's in a man's nature, Jaeyun-ah," you had whispered to him once, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over his bare chest, your body still warm from the aftermath of what you had just done. Your voice always had been soft and sweet. "Men have needs. It's only natural to seek satisfaction elsewhere when she can't give you what you want."

Jake remembered those words vividly, the way you had said them with such certainty, as if you truly believed them. As if your presence in his bed, tangled in his sheets, was anything but a betrayal.

"Maybe it's even her fault," you had added, tilting your head to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "She should know better. She should do better. If she really loved you, wouldn't she try harder to make you happy?"

Your justifications were always so effortless, so convincing. You never made him feel guilty, never accused him of being selfish or cruel. Instead, you framed it like you were the only one who truly understood him, the only one who could give him what he needed without judgment.

It was painfully obvious that you were in love with him.

And it disgusted him.

Every longing glance, every adoring smile, every saccharine word that spilled from your lips—it all made his skin crawl.

Yet, despite the repulsion twisting in his gut, he kept coming back. Again and again. Because at the end of the day, you were the only one who truly understood him. The only one who never judged, never asked for more than he was willing to give.

"I said don't give me marks!" Jake growled as he grabbed your wrists, prying your hands off his back where your nails had been sinking into his skin.

Without giving you a chance to react, he shoved you down, caging you beneath him. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, trapping your limbs against your sides as his weight pressed into you. His knees planted firmly on either side of your thighs, bracing himself as he drove deeper, making you take every inch of him.

The bed creaked beneath you, the room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, your ragged breaths mixing with his.

And despite the way he loathed the way you looked at him, despite how much your affection disgusted him—he still couldn't stop.

"You love fucking like this?" Jake growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he drove into you with unrelenting force.

"Yes! Fuck, I love your cock inside me, Jaeyun-ah! Fuck me harder!" you sobbed, your voice breaking with each thrust. Your mind was drowning in the pleasure he ruthlessly forced upon you.

Jake exhaled sharply, his breath ragged as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His arms tightened around you, locking you in place beneath him. He didn't give you a second to breathe, because your body was nothing more than a means to chase his own satisfaction.

Jake groaned as he felt you clench around him, your walls tightening, desperately trying to keep him buried deep. The way your body surrendered so easily, so pathetically. It was hilarious, how little self-control you had when it came to him.

"You fucking disgust me," he sneered. His thrusts never slowed as he tilted his head slightly, watching the way your face twisted in pleasure, eyes glazed over, lips parted as broken moans spilled from your throat.

"Getting off on your best friend’s cock? That’s just pathetic."

You shook your head wildly, fingers clawing at his back, legs trembling around his waist. "I don’t care!" you gasped, "just want you, Jaeyun-ah! Just want your cock—please!"

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, "Of course, you don’t," he muttered. His teeth grazed your shoulder before he bit down, hard, marking you. Your body jerked beneath him, a sharp whimper escaping your lips as he tightened his grip on your waist, pressing you impossibly closer, molding you against him like you were made to take him.

Your tongue traced the ridges of his collarbone, wet and hot, leaving a trail of saliva as if you wanted to claim him just as much. Jake hissed, his muscles tensing beneath your touch, his pace turning brutal. His name tore from your lips in screams, your body writhing, thrashing, but his arms locked around you, keeping you exactly where he wanted.

And then, without warning, your orgasm crashed over you—sudden, violent, leaving you gasping, eyes rolling back as your body went rigid beneath him. No slow build-up, no warning. Just raw, overwhelming pleasure that left you completely undone.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through you, leaving your body trembling beneath him, Jake didn’t slow. If anything, he fucked you through it, dragging out every last bit of your high until you were left whimpering, overstimulated, body twitching against his pace.

"Look at you," he scoffed as he watched your fucked-out expression. "Completely ruined over your best friend’s cock. What would your parents think if they saw you like this?"

Your lips parted, but only breathless moans escaped.

Jake chuckled darkly, his pace faltering just long enough for him to grab your chin, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. "And what about my girlfriend?"  he mused, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. "She has no idea you’re spreading your legs for me every time she turns her back. That you’re nothing but a cheap fuck whenever she can’t satisfy me."

For a split second, he saw that pathetic flicker of sadness in your gaze. But Jake didn’t care.

Because he knew you. Knew the way you worked. No matter how much he degraded you, no matter how cruel his words got, you would always come crawling back. Always.

Because that’s who you were.

Jake pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His hands were rough, impatient, as he flipped you over, manhandling you into the position he wanted. You barely had a moment to react before he shoved your face down against the mattress, pressing hard against the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

"Stay still," he muttered, his other hand gripping your hip, lifting your ass high in the air.

You barely had time to process the shift before the sharp buzz of his phone filled the room again, the sound coming from the bedside table. His jaw ticked in irritation, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he lined himself up with your entrance, cursing under his breath.

Then, without warning, he thrust back inside.

Another scream tore from your lips, your fingers scrambling against the sheets, trying to ground yourself as the force of his movements sent shocks of pleasure and pain coursing through you. Your walls fluttered around him instinctively, struggling to adjust to the new angle, but he didn’t slow down.

"Tighten up," Jake growled. "Feels like I’m just fucking my fist."

You clenched around him immediately, an attempt to please him, but the effort only made your body tremble harder. Your vision blurred as fresh tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks, soaking into the sheets beneath you.

Jake noticed. His fingers tangled into your hair, yanking your head up, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glassy, lips trembling, breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

"Aww," Jake cooed mockingly, tilting his head as his grip on your hair tightened. His fingers twisted cruelly in the strands, yanking your head back until your neck arched, forcing your tear-streaked face into view. "Is my sweet angel hurt?"

You sniffled, trying to steady your breath, but the way he kept thrusting into you made it impossible to think, let alone speak. Your fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles turning white as your body rocked in time with his brutal pace.

And then you smiled—soft, sweet, broken. The kind of expression you knew would make something dark flicker in his eyes.

"I don't care, Jaeyun-ah," you whispered, your gaze met his, unwavering despite the tears threatening to spill. "That's my purpose, right?"

His reaction was instant. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and without hesitation, he shoved you back down, pressing your face into the mattress. The force knocked the air from your lungs, but you still moaned.

Jake cursed under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as his thrusts turned erratic. You could feel it—the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breath grew uneven, muscles tensing. He was close.

"Fuck, I trained my angel so well," he grunted, punctuating his words with a harsh slap to your ass. The impact stung, a sharp burst of pain that made you whimper. His moans were growing louder, more desperate, the telltale signs of his impending climax.

"That's right, Jake!" you cried out, voice breaking. "Make yourself cum in me—your fucking boring girlfriend could never!"

The second those words left your lips, his hand shot forward, slapping over your mouth and muffling your moans.

"Shut the fuck up," Jake growled. His other hand dug into your hip, his grip so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. "You don’t get to talk about her. Don’t fucking ruin my orgasm by running that filthy mouth of yours."

A sharp, burning twist coiled in your chest at his words. But at the same time, the thick drag of his cock against your cervix make your walls clamped down around him, squeezing so tight it forced a strangled moan from his throat.

"Fuck—" Jake groaned, his head falling forward against your back, breath ragged, body tensed as his thrusts turned erratic. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you locked in place as he chased his release. "I'm gonna cum, angel."

A strangled sound tore from his throat, his grip bruising as he drove himself deep one last time. And then, with a low, guttural moan, he spilled inside you.

The heat of it, the way he pulsed and twitched against your walls, sent you spiraling instantly. Your orgasm hit violent, all-consuming, crashing through you with no mercy. Euphoria flooded every nerve, burning through your veins, leaving you boneless beneath him.

You gasped, lips parted in a silent cry, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked through you. It felt endless, like falling through space with no ground to catch you, no way to stop.

Jake groaned again, feeling the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, milking every last drop from his spent cock. He twitched, giving a few more lazy thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you, pushing past the oversensitivity that made your thighs shake and your breath stutter.

Slowly, his pace lost momentum, his thrusts turning shallow, sluggish, until finally, he stilled. His weight pressed against you as he exhaled heavily, letting the last remnants of pleasure fade into exhaustion.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the sweat cooling on your flushed skin, the lingering heat of what you’d just done.

And then, as the high began to ebb, as the last shocks of pleasure melted into nothingness, the emptiness settled in.

A hollow ache replaced the euphoria, leaving you nothing more than a trembling, used mess sprawled out beneath him.

Jake let out a slow, heavy breath as he ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, his body still humming with the remnants of release. The warmth of you still clung to his skin, but he didn’t spare you a glance as he pulled out, leaving a mess between your trembling thighs.

Grabbing his phone from your bedside table, he stared at the screen, scrolled through the flood of missed calls and unread messages. The screen illuminated his face, jaw tightening slightly before he sighed, thumbs moving quickly to type a response.

Your gaze followed him, watching as he moved around the room without hesitation. He didn’t look at you—not even once—as he grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor, slipping his jeans back on, adjusting his belt with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

The scent of sex still clung to his skin, and he knew it. Without pause, he reached for the bottle of cologne he always carried, spritzing it over himself, masking the evidence of what had just happened between you.

You were still sprawled out on the bed, your chest pressed against the damp sheets, your body aching, marked, used. 

"I gotta get home before she starts getting suspicious," Jake muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

But before leaving, he paused at the door, casting a dark stare over his shoulder. His expression hardened, his voice colder.

"Shut your mouth. You already know that, don’t you?"

You swallowed thickly, throat tightening as you forced a small, obedient "Yes."

For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence stretching between the two of you, thick and suffocating. Then, as if flipping a switch, Jake’s entire demeanor shifted. A slow, sickeningly sweet smile spread across his lips as he turned back toward you.

Walking over, he crouched slightly to meet your tired gaze, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. The gesture was soft—mockingly so.

"See you next time, angel. Don’t do something stupid, hmm?" His voice was gentle, almost affectionate, like he actually cared.

And like the fool you were, you smiled at him, nodding eagerly despite the rawness in your throat, despite the soreness in your body.

Jake exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head as he watched you. "My good girl."

Leaning in once more, he pecked your lips, his touch featherlight, almost tender. But beneath it, there was nothing. No warmth, no real emotion. Just obligation.

It was a role he played, a meaningless act that kept you tethered to him. And seeing you smile so sweetly, so utterly oblivious—it made his stomach twist with something akin to revulsion.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Jake let out a slow, irritated breath, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off something unpleasant.

Without sparing a second thought, he pulled out his phone, thumbs scrolling through his girlfriend’s messages.

You had always stood by Sim Jaeyun’s side—through every mistake, every decision, every selfish impulse. You defended him when no one else would, gave him everything without hesitation. It didn’t matter what he did; you always understood, always forgave, always stayed.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging so deep into the fabric they nearly tore through it. Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

You stared at the door he had just walked out of, the one he never even bothered to look back at.

You let a quiet breathy laugh—before it bubbled up into hysterical and unhinged. Tears streamed freely down your face.

"His angel, my ass."

The words dripped from your tongue. a wicked little smile curling on your lips.

You had always been there for him. Always the loyal one. Always the perfect, obedient little toy he could use and toss aside when it was convenient. You had let him take and take and take.

Your gaze flickered to the ceiling, to the tiny red light blinking faintly in the dark.

You were his angel, after all. His good girl. So predictable, so harmless.

How cute.

You tilted your head as your nails dragged lazily across your own thigh, smearing the mess he left behind.

You almost felt bad for him. 

Because, Sim Jaeyun did not, in fact, train his angel well.

[cruel-as-sin]

take the weight off his shoulders | logan howlett

pt. 2

↳ summary: you're a stripper and old man!logan comes into the club where you work- so you decide to show him a good time.

word count: 3k

song: older | isabel larosa

pairings: old man!logan x fem!stripper!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn w/o plot, prostitution/strip clubs, age gap (readers age is unspecified but she is an adult), praise kink, gentle sex, striptease and lapdance hehe, size difference, protected p in v, grinding, handjob, lingerie mentioned, the glasses stay on, practice safe sex everyone (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: ao3 saw this first and it took way too long for me to move it over to tumblr but. here it is lmao. as i said there old man logan does something CRAZY to me so it was only fitting i wrote about him, enjoy! also this is not proofread so apologies for any mistakes :’)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan's not sure why he goes into the club across the street.

Maybe he needs to feel young again. Maybe he's bored. Maybe the adamantium poisoning the rest of him has finally managed to get to his brain and turned his thoughts into some sort of horny, befuddled shit show.

Or maybe, just maybe, he really is just that fucking desperate.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It's past midnight when he walks through the door. You've been busy all night, but things are finally starting to wind down, the customers that frequent the small establishment slowly trickling out until only a few remain. None of them are your regulars, and given how empty the doorway has been, you're honestly considering calling it a night and going home early. The past few days have been hellish, full of people who didn't do a damn thing to turn you on, and you'd love nothing more than to sink into a warm, cozy bed and drift off to sleep. Tonight, you've been roaming the floor for the past hour without getting anything- everybody is either interested in another one of the workers or entirely fixated on the dancers.

It's not that you don't like your job- you do. Sure, being a stripper isn't the most flattering form of work, but the bills are paid. That's all that really counts these days. Your pride has long since been discarded in favor of earning hefty tips from the sleazy guys who are dumb enough to believe that you'd actually be into them. You put on a good show, of course, but if it weren't for the money? Not a fucking chance.

You like it that way. Hardly any of your clients go beyond the intimacy of a private dance, mainly because you don't let them, reserving that for your favorites. But you haven't met someone who turns you on in a long while, and without the occasional thrill of a real good time from a customer, you're starting to get bored. The days are blurring together, nothing separating the good days from the bad ones, if there even is such a thing anymore.

You're on your way to ask your boss if you can get off early when you hear the bell ring. You groan internally, realizing that you're the only one on the floor who isn't occupied, meaning if this client is interested, they're yours.

Damn it.

So much for an early night.

You're midway through praying to whatever God is out there that this client tips well when you turn and actually lay eyes on them. The moment you do, your mind goes blank, your prayers long forgotten as your thoughts become consumed by him.

He's older- much older. Pushing sixty, at least. It's not inherently a bad thing, but typically the older they are, the more entitled they become.

You're not usually into older men, finding them self-centered, greedy, unable to keep up with your desires; but you're not even ashamed to admit that this stranger could ask you to do just about anything and you'd probably agree in a heartbeat.

The man is tall, big, his muscular form obvious even underneath the suit and tie he wears. His salt and pepper hair is short, accompanied by a scruffy beard you're certain would feel like heaven against your thighs. His tie is loose, his top button undone, and he's got on a pair of dollar-store glasses that he hasn't even pulled the tag off of. There's a weight to him, an exhaustion that seems to have infiltrated the deepest parts of his soul, as if he's seen things you couldn't even begin to fathom- and yet, he's here, seeking some semblance of relief.

Lucky for him, you know exactly how to give it to him.

He looks around like he's lost, the colorful lights and sultry music overwhelming, the center stage where your coworkers get dollar bills thrown at their feet foreign to him. By the time you've made your way over, your legs moving of their own accord, he's turning to leave. "Hey." You call out, and he stops, turning back around to face you.

He's even bigger up close, and his eyes roam over your form almost shamefully before finally meeting your own. "I was just leaving." His voice is rough, a little scratchy, and while you're sure it's supposed to be intimidating, all it does is further fuel the heat pooling between your legs.

"So soon?" You look up at him with a doe-eyed gaze you're well aware makes men weak in the knees.

"I shouldn't be here." He says, but he doesn't walk away from you.

You move a little closer so your breath is fanning across his neck, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I could show you a good time."

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got-"

Sweetheart.

"Let me take care of you." You lean up to whisper in his ear. Your breath is hot against his skin, your mouth tantalizingly close, and you can feel the way he twitches slightly- an exercise of self-control.

A moment passes, two, and he lets out a long breath. "Fuck, darlin'." He reaches out, hesitant to touch, as if he's not sure how this works, doesn’t want to cross some invisible line he hasn’t learned exists. You take his hand, guiding it to your waist, reaching up to put one hand on the back of his neck. "You sure know how to get a guy wrapped around your finger."

In response, you give a coy smile, taking his tie in one hand and giving it a soft tug. He allows you to guide him, pulling him along by the tie you're sure he has a million ideas of what to do with.

You lead him into a private room, pulling the curtain closed behind you, letting his tie slip out of your grasp. His eyes dart around for a moment, but then you're in front of him again, reaching up and sliding his blazer off of his shoulders. You hang it up on the wall, then return, now slowly guiding him backwards and giving him a gentle shove into the leather chair near the wall. He raises an eyebrow as you circle him, leaning in from behind to whisper in his ear. "Just relax." You murmur, letting your lips graze his neck before pulling away. He leans back, eyes following your every move, a stare that feels like it could set you on fire.

You put on a good show for him- dancing, teasing, tantalizingly close, but never touching. Not yet. You can see the hunger in his gaze, the restraint it takes for him not to pull you down into his lap and keep you there. You give him a strip tease, taking off your bra and letting your breasts go free. His eyes roam over you, a murmured word, "Beautiful," leaving his lips, and that makes your already soaked panties drenched.

Then you give him a lap dance- and unlike most of the men you meet, he doesn't touch, doesn't paw at you. Instead he waits, lets you set the pace, doesn't do anything without your permission. Your hands go to his tie, undoing it at a speed you know is killing him, tossing it aside.

Finally, you rest yourself entirely on his lap, and whisper in his ear. "You can touch now, if you want to."

His hands immediately settle on your hips, like they belong there. You grind down against him, feeling him tense beneath you at the friction against his clothed cock. You repeat the motion, relishing in the groan it elicits from him. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and he begins to guide your motions, pressing you down against his thigh in a way that makes you moan. It's a small, soft sound, but it still makes him smile. “Atta girl, that’s it.” He huffs approvingly. You keep going, feeling yourself almost get lost in the rhythmic movement before you come back to your senses.

Your hands move to the collar of his shirt, slowly beginning to undo the buttons, revealing his toned chest. You only get about halfway down before his hands are gripping your wrists, and your protest dies on your lips when he leans up and kisses you.

He tastes like cigar smoke and whiskey, a blend that should be uncomfortable but is somehow pleasant. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls you closer. By the time he finally pulls away for air, you're dizzy, flushed.

A kiss- almost as personal as a name.

You've never met a man who could make you feel like this- and certainly not without getting all your clothes off first.

His words snap you out of your breathless haze. "Let me touch you, baby." His voice is both a plea and a demand, and who are you to deny him such a request?

A simple nod is all it takes before his hands are on you, roving over your breasts with an appreciative groan. You can't help the way your hips rock against him, and one of his hands goes down to your ass, encouraging you to grind against him again. His other hand rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, while his mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck, down to your breasts.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing him in. His head comes up from your chest to whisper in your ear as he keeps your hips moving back and forth, his other hand alternating between your breasts. His skin muffles your moans, but you know he won't let you hide those pretty sounds from him forever. "You're so perfect." His words don't exactly do you any favors in the 'keeping your composure' department. "Sweet, pretty thing like you..." He nips at your earlobe, making you gasp softly. "You got no idea what you do to me."

Those words snap you back a little, remind you of your promise to take care of him. You raise your head up, leaning back a little to meet his eyes. "Then show me." Your hands reach down towards his belt, and this time, he doesn't stop you. Instead, his gaze roams over you as you unbuckle it, slowly pull it out of the loops of his pants, toss it aside, letting it join the other discarded articles littering the floor. You undo the buttons, then pull his pants down.

Even through his boxers, you can clearly see the outline of his aching hardness. You gently take him in your palm, running your hand along him through the fabric, watching the way his eyes flutter. Then you adjust yourself so you're grinding on him again, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating the two of you.

You go on like that for a little while, keeping track of every little sound he makes, every hitch of his breath and shudder that goes through his body. Then you lean back, pulling his boxers down, freeing his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Immediately, your mouth waters. He's huge, the biggest you've ever seen, and you find yourself wondering if you even can take him.

You push that thought aside for now, swiping your thumb across his tip, smiling to yourself at the groan that leaves him. You repeat the motion, letting precum gather on your fingers as you begin to move your hand up and down, up and down. You start slow, stroking him gently, then gradually increase your pace. Midway through, you grab a condom with your other hand, keeping eye contact as you open the wrapper with your teeth. You roll it onto him in one smooth motion, earning a startled grunt. His head falls back, his breaths coming unevenly, and it takes him a while before he can manage a coherent sentence.

"Fuck, you treat every guy like this?" Even with all the energy he can muster, the words are still a little short.

Your smile widens, and you lean in to press a kiss against the vein of his throat. "Only the good ones."

His mouth opens, as if to argue with the notion that he's anything good, but your ever-faster movements silence any protests that could have come from him.

You can tell he's getting close, and you slow down, letting him breathe a little slower as you whisper a soft question. "Where do you want me? You want my mouth, you want-"

Your words are cut off by his hand cupping your clothed mound, a gasp escaping you. "I want this." His voice is rough, and this time, it's not a plea. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as you unconsciously begin to move against his hand, chasing any friction he can give you. "I think it's a little unfair, seeing how I'm all out in the open and you've still got these," His thumb hooks in the waistband of your panties. "Separating me from you, hmm?

You don't even answer, just raise your hips up slightly so he can tug your lingerie down your legs until it falls and hits the floor. Immediately, his gaze lands on your exposed cunt. "Jesus, you're soaked." He murmurs, running his fingers through your slick. You whine as he brushes against your clit, and he chuckles. "Need me that bad, huh?"

"Need you." You whine. You can tell he wants to take it slow, to tease you, and by god do you want to let him- but you're impatient, your own teasing having riled you up too much to do anything but fuck him. Luckily, he picks up on your silent request, raising your hips to hover above his cock. His gaze searches yours, waiting for permission, and you nod. "Fuck me." You say softly, and it takes everything in him not to come completely fucking undone at that sweet tone of voice.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he lowers you down onto him. It burns, in a delicious way you've come to love in your years here. Even with the sheer amount of wetness coming from you, it's still a struggle to make him fit- but he does. When you've finally sank all the way down onto his cock, he lets you breathe for a moment. "You can take it, baby." He murmurs reassuringly- a support and a chance for you to back out. You close your eyes, breathing in and out, resting your face in the crook of his neck again.

Then you start to move.

It takes him by surprise, and you like the grunt that comes from him. For someone of his age, you're sure not much can catch him off guard anymore, so that makes it all the better when you lean back to see the look on his face. He catches your small smirk and returns it with one of his own, letting you move yourself up and down, over and over. Your pace slowly increases as the two of you adjust, and the room is soon filled with soft noises and the sound of flesh against flesh.

It's slow, almost sensual, but despite the circumstances that should have you turning this in another direction, you like it. You feel that familiar coil building in your stomach, your soft whimpers turning to moans now.

"You gonna come for me, baby?"

All you can do is nod, and he rocks his hips up into yours. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, until you can't think of anything else but him and how fucking good he's making you feel, how badly you need to come undone on his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" Your voice takes on a sharp pitch as he thrusts up into you, and your vision goes white for a moment as your orgasm hits you, unending bliss shaking your whole body. He rides out your orgasm for as long as he can, but the tight feeling of your cunt clenching around him soon sends him over the edge too. You can feel him twitching inside you, only prolonging the aftershocks of your own pleasure.

Eventually, you both come down. You're breathing heavily, trying to scramble together any semblance of thought. He stands suddenly, picking you up like you weigh nothing and setting you down on the chair. His cock slips out of you at some point during the process, leaving you feeling empty. You sit there for a moment before opening your eyes, finding him pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He meets your gaze with a hint of a fond smile, bending over to grab his tie.

You stand up to retrieve your own clothes, pulling them back on while he shoves his arms through the sleeves of his blazer and rifles through his pockets, eventually pulling out his wallet. "Um, how much do I owe you?"

He looks almost embarrassed, and you find it kind of adorable. You flash him a smile, saying words you never thought you'd dare to let pass your lips. "Nothing. It's on me."

Immediately, his eyebrow shoots up. "No, I can't... I can't let you do that, pretty girl."

You shake your head. "I insist. Nobody's ever fucked me like that, and certainly not any of my clients." You see the way your words boost his ego- good. He deserves it. "Besides, if you hadn't showed up, I'd have gone home anyway." You say nonchalantly, taking a few steps over to him. You reach up and put a finger to his lips before he can continue to argue. "It's on the house."

Although he still looks conflicted, he reluctantly nods. "Okay. Next time, then."

Next time.

You feel a thrill run through your body as he brings up the prospect of a next time, and your smile widens. "Next time." You affirm. You step back, letting him be on his way.

He moves towards the curtain, pausing before he goes. "See you around, sweetheart."

And just like that, he's gone.

But you don't miss him- because you know he'll be back.

So when you finally make it home and climb into bed after that warm shower, there's still a fond smile on your face as you drift off to sleep, dreaming of the weary stranger and his wonderful words.

[ekybrini]

I love you, I'm sorry | Jack Hughes

— ⟡ summary | After the breakup, you spend the summer at the Hughes' lake house, trying to move on while Jack lingers in the background, never pushing but always there in small, unspoken ways. Slowly, the anger fades into something more complicated, and as the summer stretches on, you’re forced to confront the one thing you’ve been avoiding .

— ⟡ warnings | none (that I am aware of)

— ⟡ word count | 10.6k

— ⟡ gabs note | hiii!! since many people requested a part two here it is!! in all honestly I don't know if I like this or hate it, but oh well. hopefully you guys like part two as much as you liked part one ! <3 I apologize if this seems a little rushed.

part one | jacks pov (to part one)

It’s been almost two months since that weekend in New Jersey. Two months since you stood in Jack’s apartment waiting for him to say something, anything, while he stood there arms crossed over his chest face guarded and let you walk away.

He hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted. And you haven’t either.

At first, it hurt so badly you could barely breathe. The quiet was unbearable. You kept expecting your phone to light up with his name, to see a message “I’m sorry or Can we talk?” but nothing ever came. He’d let you leave after that fight, and the silence afterward felt like proof that he never really cared as much as you thought.

But the worst part, the part you hate admitting even to yourself is that you miss him. You miss him so much it’s a physical ache in your chest. You catch yourself thinking about him at the most random moments when you hear a song he used to like, or when you see someone wearing a Devils hoodie at the store. Your hand still twitches toward your phone when something funny happens. Your brain is so used to telling Jack everything that it hasn’t caught up to the fact that he isn’t there anymore. Even after two months.

Quinn’s checked in a few times. He hasn’t pushed, but you can feel the weight behind his questions. You know he’s talking to Jack about your conversations, but he hasn’t said much about it to you, which makes you think it’s probably bad.

You’re trying to move on. You really are. You’ve thrown yourself into school and work, into hanging out with your friends, into finding some sense of normalcy without him. But sometimes, it feels like you’re just going through all emotions. Because for the past nine years, Jack was part of your normal day life and now you don’t know how to exist without him.

It’s a Monday night when Quinn calls.

You almost let it go to voicemail, but your chest tightens, and you swipe to answer at the last second.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Quinn says. His voice is steady, but you can hear the hesitation underneath it. “How are you?”

“Fine.” The word tastes hollow. Quinn doesn’t say anything, and you sigh. “Okay, not really. But it’s fine.”

There’s a pause. “Yeah.” Quinn sounds like he’s bracing himself for something. “Jack’s in Michigan.”

Your stomach drops. “What?”

“He flew home this morning.”

Your heart starts pounding. You sit up straighter, curling your hand around the phone. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Quinn says, but you can tell he’s lying.

You close your eyes. “Quinn”

“I’m not saying you have to talk to him,” Quinn says. “But I think he wants to.”

You bite your lip. Your chest is tight. You hate how much you want to see him. You hate how much hope is curling around the edges of your heart, even though you know better by now.

“I don’t know if I can,” you whisper.

“I know,” Quinn says quietly. “Just think about it.”

You don’t sleep much that night. Your mind keeps spinning, replaying every word of that last conversation with Jack, every look, every moment that led up to it. Him ignoring you at any given chance. You’re still awake when the sun rises, and your chest feels raw and aching as you get through the day.

Jack is here. Jack is in Michigan. Of course he is, it's all star week which means some of the players have a break. How did you forget?

You keep expecting to see him turn a corner and find him standing there, hands in his pockets, eyes wide with regret. You don’t know what you’d do if that happened. Run? Scream? Pretend you don’t see him?

You wouldn't give him the chance.

For the next few days, you avoid every place he might be. You don’t go to the coffee shop you used to go to together. You don’t go to the dock outside of your house even though it’s a ritual for you. When Luke texts, asking if you want to hang out, you hesitate because what if Jack is there too?

Your answer is shorter than usual. “Not today. sorry.”

It’s exhausting, constantly looking over your shoulder waiting for the inevitable. But part of you, the part you don’t want to acknowledge is waiting for it. Because Jack will always find his way back to you.

But what if he doesn't? 

Two days pass. Then three Days. Then another. And you didn't see Jack nor did he never shows up.

Maybe we are really done. 

The thought makes your stomach twist, but you shove it down, focusing on work. You pick up extra shifts at the restaurant, filling your schedule so there is completely no room to think about him. It works, mostly.

Until the night he walks through the door.

It’s a Friday. You’re busy clearing a table when you hear someone call your name from the kitchen, asking you to run a drink order to one of the booths. You grab the tray without thinking, slipping through the crowd, already moving on autopilot.

And then you see him.

Jack is sitting in the booth near the window, fingers tapping anxiously against the table. His head is down, like he’s lost in thought. Like he doesn’t quite know why he’s here, only that he is.

Your breath catches in your throat.

For a second, you think about turning around running back to the kitchen and pretending you didn’t see him. But it’s too late he looks up at the exact moment you freeze, and his gaze locks onto yours.

His expression shifts instantly. His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. His eyes flicker with so many emotions at once shock, relief, regret, and guilt.

You grip the tray a little tighter. Your heartbeat is so loud it drowns out the chatter around you. You can’t move. You can’t breathe.

Jack stands slowly, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast.

You should. You want to. But you don’t.

Your grip tightens around the tray, fingers pressing into the smooth surface like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. The noise of the restaurant fades into the background, muffled by the blood rushing in your ears.

Jack takes a step forward, hesitant. “I-”

Your manager’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and direct. “Hey, can you get that table?”

You blink, the moment snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin. Jack’s standing in front of you now closer than you’re ready for, but you force yourself to move past him stepping around his outstretched hand like you don’t even see it. Like he’s not even there.

Jack turns, his voice softer this time. “Wait-”

But you don’t.

You drop the drink order at the booth without looking back, without acknowledging the way your chest is threatening to cave in and disappear into the kitchen before he can say another word.

Your hands shake as you set the tray down exhaling sharply. The kitchen is warmer than usual the air thick with the smell of sizzling food and fresh bread, but you still feel cold your skin prickling with something too close to panic.

“Hey.” One of the other servers looks over at you, frowning. “You okay?”

You nod too quickly. “Yeah. Just just need a second.”

They don’t push, but you can feel their eyes on you as you turn away, bracing your hands against the counter.

Jack is out there. Jack is here.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Get through your shift. That’s all you have to do.

But the thought of walking back out there, of seeing him again makes your stomach twist.

You suck in a breath and grab water from the staff fridge forcing yourself to focus. You’ve handled worse. You can handle this.

But when you finally step out of the kitchen again, Jack is still there.And he’s waiting for you. He hasn’t left. You knew he wouldn’t.

Jack is still standing by the booth hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, shifting his weight like he’s trying to figure out what to do next. His drink sits untouched on the table, condensation pooling around the base of the glass. He hasn’t looked away from the kitchen door since you walked through it, and when your eyes meet again something inside you clenched tight.

You force yourself to move to pretend like your legs aren’t trembling as you walk past him to check on another table. You don’t stop. You don’t slow down. But you can feel his gaze on you heavy, like he’s hoping you to look back.

You don’t.

You take another order, bring out another tray clear another table, throw yourself into work like it’s enough to drown out the storm raging inside you. But it’s impossible to ignore him when he’s still there, lingering like a ghost a constant presence in the corner of your vision. Just as you’re starting to think he might give up you hear your name.

"y/n"

Soft. Almost unsure. But you hear it.

You freeze.

Slowly, you turn.

Jack is closer now, standing just a few feet away his expression raw like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Can we” His voice catches, and he swallows hard. “Can we talk?”

Your throat tightens. No. That’s the answer. That’s what you should say.

But nothing comes out.

Jack waits, shifting slightly, like he’s bracing himself for you to say no. Like he’s already expecting it.

And maybe that’s what makes you hesitate.

Your fingers curl into your apron heart slamming against your ribs. You should walk away. You should tell him you’re busy. You should say something that will make him leave.

But instead, you whisper, “I’m working.”

Jack exhales nodding quickly like he was stupid to even ask. “Right. Yeah. I just” He cuts himself off, dragging a hand down his face. “I just wanted to see you.”

Well, congratulations. You’ve seen me.

You don’t say it. You don’t say anything.

Jack glances down rubbing the back of his neck then looks at you again. “I’ll wait.”

Your stomach twists. “Jack-”

“I’ll wait,” he repeats, softer this time. “I won’t leave until you talk to me.”

You exhale sharply, your chest tightening as you glance toward the clock. Two more hours. Two more hours of him sitting there, of feeling his eyes on you, of knowing he’s just waiting.

You don’t know if you can do this.

But it doesn’t seem like you have a choice.

For the next two hours, Jack keeps his word.

He doesn’t leave.

He doesn’t even try to talk to you again.

But he stays.

Every time you glance toward his booth whether it be on purpose or by accident he’s still there. His drink sits untouched, ice melted into the soda. He barely touches his phone, only looking at it in short, distracted glances, like he’s waiting for time to pass. But mostly, he watches you. Not in an overbearing way, not in a way that demands your attention, but in a way that feels like he’s just there. Present. Waiting.

And it makes your skin crawl. Because he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be sitting in your restaurant, watching you like this, like he’s hoping for something you can’t bring yourself to give him.

Your chest feels tight the entire time you work. Your hands shake a little as you punch in orders, your voice wavers when you ask customers if they need anything else. You can’t focus. Can’t think straight. Because Jack is still there.

When your shift finally ends, you take longer than usual in the back, wiping down counters that don’t need cleaning, refilling sugar dispensers that aren’t empty. You stall because you know what’s waiting for you outside.

And yet, when you finally push open the back door, stepping into the humid air, you’re still not prepared to see him standing there.

Jack is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, foot tapping absently against the concrete. The parking lot lights cast a dim glow over his face, catching the shadows under his eyes, the sharp cut of his jawline. He looks different than the last time you saw him. More tired. More worn down.

Your heart lurches despite everything.

Jack straightens as soon as he sees you. His shoulders tense like he’s expecting you to keep walking, to brush past him without a word.

And for a second you think about it.

But then he says your name. Soft and hesitant like a question.

Like a plea.

And you hate that your feet stop moving.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms. “You waited.”

Jack nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

His throat bobs as he swallows. “You know why.”

You do. But you still don’t want to hear it.

Jack hesitates, then takes a small step closer. “Can we just, can we talk? Please?”

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say. Maybe you were waiting for an apology. Maybe you thought he’d make some excuse, some weak attempt to downplay what happened.

But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching you, his expression open and raw.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

Your fingers tighten against your arms. “I don’t know if I have anything to say to you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to argue. But then he exhales, nodding. “Okay.”

That’s it no protest no but or please. Just okay.

You shift uncomfortably, glancing away. It would be easier if he were angry. If he fought you on this. But he doesn’t. He just takes the rejection, lets it settle between you without trying to force something you don’t want to give.

You should leave. You should get in your car and drive away.

But you don’t.

And Jack doesn’t either.

The silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable. The night hums around you cars passing in the distance, the faint buzz of a streetlamp overhead, the muffled voices of your coworkers still inside but it all fades against the weight of him.

Jack shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickers to the pavement, then back to you. “I didn’t come here to make this harder.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Jack exhales, closing his eyes briefly like he expected that. Maybe he did.

When he opens them again, they’re softer, something aching in them. “I don’t know what to say to make this right.”

You stare at him, fingers digging into your arms. Good. Because there is no magic fix for this. There’s no sentence that can undo the months of silence, the gutting way he hurt you, the way he let you walk away without fighting for you.

Jack swallows hard, stepping forward just enough to bridge the space between you, but not enough to make you feel trapped. “I know I messed up. And I know I probably don’t get to ask for anything from you anymore, but” He hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I just explain?”

You shake your head, looking away. “Jack-”

“Please.”

That one word pulls something deep in your chest. It’s quiet and desperate and so different from the last time you spoke, from the sharp edged way he threw his words at you like knives, cutting you open and then leaving you there to bleed.

This Jack, the one standing in front of you now isn’t the same.

But does it even matter?

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Why now?”

Jack flinches, like the question physically hits him. “Because I’m not” He exhales sharply, jaw tightening. “Because I should’ve told you everything back then. And I didn’t. And I hate myself for it.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat, your arms falling to your sides. “And you think telling me now is going to change anything?”

Jack hesitates. “No. But I can’t keep” He stops, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words. “I can’t let the last thing I ever say to you be that.”

Your heart twists.

Because neither can you.

But you don’t know if you’re ready for this. You don’t know if you can stand here and listen to him tell you things that should have been said back in New Jersey. months ago.

And yet, you don’t move.

Jack watches you, waiting, his hands clenched at his sides. And for the first time since you left New Jersey, it actually looks like he’s scared.

Not losing you.

But because he already did.

The night air feels too heavy, pressing against your skin as you stand there, caught between the past and whatever this moment is supposed to be. Jack looks like he’s waiting for you to run, like he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

And maybe you should. Maybe you should turn around go back inside pretend this never happened.

But your feet stay planted.

Jack shifts again, exhaling through his nose. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admits quietly.

You huff out a breath, crossing your arms. “You should’ve figured that out before you” Your voice catches, the words cutting into you as much as they do him. Before you pushed me away. You can’t say it out loud. You won’t.

Jack flinches anyway like he heard it.

“I know,” he says, and it’s not defensive not sharp. Just raw. “I know I handled everything wrong. I know I hurt you.” He swallows hard. “I just, I thought if I could just get through the season, if I could just push through everything, it would get better. That I’d get better.”

You frown, your arms tightening around yourself. “And you couldn’t talk to me about that?”

Jack laughs, but it’s empty. “I don’t know. I think I convinced myself that if I said it out loud, it would make it real. And if it was real, then I didn’t know how to deal with it. So I just shut down.”

You blink. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Jack talk about his own feelings like this before, at least not with you, not with anyone. He’s always been the one to feel everything and let it explode out of him in frustration or impulsiveness. Not like this. Not measured and painfully aware of how much damage he caused.

Jack’s hands clench at his sides. “And then when you came to Jersey” His voice drops lower, like he doesn’t even want to say it. “I knew I was losing you. And I didn’t know how to stop it. I was mad at myself, and I was mad at you for” He stops, dragging a hand over his face. “I don’t even know what. But I took it out on you, and I hate myself for it.”

Your breath catches.

Because this is what you needed back then. An explanation. An admission. Something other than the cold, cutting way he pushed you away.

But it’s been months. And you don’t know if hearing it now makes a difference.

Jack steps forward not enough to crowd you, but enough that you can see the way his eyes shine under the streetlight. The way he looks wrecked.

“I love you, I'm sorry. I just miss you.,” he breathes. “Every day.”

Your chest tightens so painfully you think it might break you in half.

You look away, blinking hard. “Jack”

“I know,” he says again, softer this time. “I just” He lets out a slow breath. “I just needed you to know.”

The words hang in the air between you.

And for the first time since you walked away from him, you have no idea what to do.

Your fingers tighten around your arms, nails digging into your skin. “You don’t get to just say that,” you whisper. “You don’t get to show up at my job and” Your voice catches, breath hitching. You shake your head, trying to steady yourself. “And tell me you love me and that you miss me like that means anything after everything.”

Jack flinches, but he doesn’t look away. Doesn’t run. That’s the worst part. You wish he would. It would be easier if he stormed off, if he got frustrated, if he did something that made it easier to hold onto your anger. But instead, he just stands there, taking every word you throw at him like he knows he deserves them.

“It means everything,” he says, voice rough. “It always has.”

Your chest tightens painfully. “Then why did you treat me like I didn’t?”

Jack’s face crumples, and he lets out a slow, unsteady breath. “Because I was a fucking coward.” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “Because I thought pushing you away would hurt less than letting you see how much I was struggling.” He shakes his head, jaw tightening. “But it didn’t. Losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as your vision starts to blur. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You refuse to cry in front of him. Not after everything.

Jack steps closer not enough to touch you, but enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says. “I don’t expect anything. But I had to tell you the truth. You deserved that.”

You stare at him, breathing shakily. His face is open, vulnerable in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before. Like he’s laid everything bare, like he’s put his heart in your hands even though he knows you have every reason to drop it and let it shatter.

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

You don’t know what to say.

You don’t know how to feel.

All you know is that Jack Hughes is standing in front of you. Your old best friend. Your ex boyfriend. finally talking, finally telling you everything you wanted to hear months ago.

The weight of his words presses down on you, threatening to crack the walls you’ve spent months building around yourself. You force yourself to stand taller, to steel yourself against the way he’s looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he so much as blinks.

Maybe you already have.

“You don’t get to do this,” you say again, voice steadier now, but your hands are still trembling. “You don’t get to walk away, to break me like that, and then show up months later acting like you care.”

Jack’s expression twists, pained. “I never stopped caring.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Just stop.”

Jack drags a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I know. I fucked up. I know I did. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it every single day.” His voice shakes, raw and unfiltered. “I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve let you in. But I was scared, and I-” He stops, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “I don’t have an excuse.”

The worst part? You believe him.

You always believe him.

But that doesn’t mean it’s enough.

“I spent two months waiting,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the low hum of the restaurant around you. “Months wondering what I did wrong, why I wasn’t enough for you to stay.”

Jack’s face falls. “It was never about you not being enough.”

“Then why did you let me leave? Why didn’t you stop me before I walked out of that door?” Your voice cracks on the last word. 

Jack looks devastated. “Because I was drowning,” he admits, and the honesty in his voice is almost unbearable. “And instead of reaching for you, I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to see me like that. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being a selfish asshole.”

You shake your head, trying to will away the lump forming in your throat. “You don’t get to decide what protects me, Jack. That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“I know,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

You inhale sharply, looking away, because if you look at him any longer, you might break right here in the middle of your shift, in front of all these people.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” you admit.

Jack hesitates. “I don’t expect anything. I just” He trails off, his hands clenching at his sides. “I just needed you to know that I never stopped caring. That I still-” He cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to reel himself back in.

Like he’s about to say something he can’t take back.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

Jack clears his throat, stepping back slightly, like he’s giving you space. “I won’t bother you again if you don’t want me to,” he says quietly. “But if, if there’s even a chance that I haven’t lost you completely-” His voice breaks, and he looks down, swallowing hard. “I’d give anything to fix what I broke.”

You stare at him, your breath shaky.

The worst part is you don’t know if you want him to leave or stay.

All you know is that, despite everything, you still love him.

And you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

Jack’s still standing there, waiting, hands curled into fists like he’s bracing for you to tell him to leave. Like he already knows he deserves it.

And maybe he does.

But that doesn’t make this any easier.

“You should go,” you finally say, forcing the words out past the tightness in your throat.

Jack flinches, just barely, but he nods. “Okay.” His voice is quiet, rough around the edges.

He hesitates for a moment longer, like he wants to say something else, but then he just exhales sharply, turns, and walks away.

You don’t move. You stand there, gripping the tray so tightly your knuckles ache, staring at the spot where he just was.

He actually left.

You should feel relieved. You should feel proud of yourself for standing your ground.

Instead, your stomach churns, and your chest feels like it’s caving in.

You force yourself to move, heading straight to the back of the restaurant to get your stuff before anyone can see the way your hands are shaking. You press your palms against the counter, inhaling sharply, trying to push down the overwhelming wave of emotions threatening to drag you under.

You hate this. You hate that he can still make you feel like this.

And worst of all, you hate that some part of you wanted him to stay.

⟡

You don’t see him again for a few days.

And then suddenly, he’s everywhere.

You see him at the grocery store while you’re grabbing coffee. You turn a corner, and there he is standing in front of the dairy section looking just as caught off guard as you. You don’t even think.You spin on your heel and walk straight out of the store leaving the coffee behind.

A few days later, you spot him at the lake standing at the dock, your dock his hands shoved in his pockets, staring out at the water like it holds all the answers he’s been searching for.

You don’t let yourself wonder what he’s thinking. You turn and walk back home, your stomach twisting painfully.

You don’t let yourself wonder what he’s thinking. You turn and walk back home, your stomach twisting painfully.

It happens again. And again.

At first, you think it’s just bad luck. Michigan is only so big, after all.

But then Luke starts to text you

“Jack’s been asking about you.”

You stare at the message for a long time before typing out a response.

“Tell him to stop”

Luke doesn’t reply right away. When he does, it’s just one word

“Okay”

You don’t know if he actually tells Jack.

But for a while, it seems like he did.

Because you don’t see Jack after that. Not at the grocery store, not at the lake, not anywhere.

It should be a relief.

So why does it feel like an ache settling in your chest?

Did he go back to New Jersey? 

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you wanted this. That you told him to leave you alone. But the words feel thin, like paper that might tear with the wrong touch.

 Luke texts you again after a few days.

“Jack’s still here.”

Your stomach twists.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard before you finally type out a response.

“Why? Isn’t all starts over?”

It only takes Luke a few seconds to reply.

“I don’t know. But he’s not leaving.”

You stare at Luke’s response, your heart pounding.

Jack should be gone by now. He should be in Jersey practicing. He has no reason to still be here.

Unless he's still here for you. You shake your head, pushing the thought away before it can settle. You can’t do this again. You can’t let yourself hope.

Your phone buzzes again.

“Have you seen him?” Luke asks.

You swallow hard.

“No. And I don’t want to.”

It’s a lie. 

Luke doesn’t call you out on it, but his next message lingers on the screen, making your chest ache.

“I think he’s waiting for you.”

You don’t answer. You don’t know how to.

Because you know Luke’s right. Jack wouldn’t still be here if he wasn’t waiting for something.

You shut off your phone, but it doesn’t stop the way your thoughts spin. The way your stomach twists at the idea of Jack still being here, waiting.

For days, you’d been looking over your shoulder, avoiding places he might be. But now, knowing that he hasn’t left, knowing that he’s lingering in the same town, waiting for something, you. makes it worse.

You want to be angry. You want to be relieved. Instead, you just feel exhausted. Because if Jack is waiting, it means this isn’t over. And you don’t know if you have it in you to face him again.

After a few days on Monday night, Luke texts you again.

"Jack left."

You stare at the message for a long time, reading it over and over again like maybe you’ve misunderstood. But it’s right there, plain as day. Jack is gone.

Your chest tightens, and you don’t know if it’s relief or something closer to disappointment that settles in your bones. You should be happy. This is what you wanted, right? For him to leave you alone?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard before you finally type out a response.

"Back to Jersey?"

Luke replies almost immediately.

"Yeah. He flew out this morning."

You don’t answer. You don’t know what to say.

For the next few weeks, life goes back to normal. Or at least, as normal as it can be when there’s still a Jack shaped hole in your life. The weight in your chest doesn’t fade, but you learn to live with it. You stop looking over your shoulder. You go back to the places you avoided before. You try to move on.

But it’s not that easy.

You still reach for your phone sometimes, instinctively, before remembering there’s no reason to. You still think about him when you pass by the lake, still catch yourself wondering what he’s doing, if he ever thinks about you, if New Jersey feels as lonely for him as Michigan does for you.

But you don’t let yourself ask.

⟡

summer comes around

Its been six months without jack in your life. 3 months since you last talked.

It starts the way it always does long days, warm nights, the kind of stillness in the air that makes everything feel slower. You throw yourself into work, trying not to think about how different this summer feels without Jack.

It happens on a quiet summer evening.

You’re sitting on Luke’s dock, legs dangling over the edge, the warm air thick with the scent of the lake. It’s one of those nights where the water is still, the sky is streaked with soft orange, and everything feels suspended in time.

Luke sits beside you, tossing small rocks into the water. It’s easy, comfortable like it always has been with him. No pressure to talk, no need to fill the silence.

For the first time in a long time, you almost feel okay.

And then you hear it.

The crunch of tires on gravel. The low hum of an engine cutting off. A car door slamming shut.

Your entire body tenses. Luke shifts beside you, tossing one last rock into the water before letting out a sigh.

You don’t turn around. You don’t move at all. Maybe if you stay still, if you pretend you didn’t hear it, it won’t be real.

But then you heard. Footsteps.

Your breath catches in your throat.

Luke is the one who finally breaks the silence.

“You’re back,” he says, voice unreadable.

Your fingers clench against the wood of the dock.

And then Jack’s voice.

“Yeah.”

Luke exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I thought you weren’t coming home until next week.”

Jack shrugs, shifting his weight. “Changed my flight.”

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, just glances at you before shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

You swallow hard, your grip tightening on the edge of the dock. Your heart is pounding, but you force yourself to keep your face neutral.

Luke lets out a sigh, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I’m gonna head inside,” he says, his voice careful, like he already knows you’re about to protest.

Your head snaps toward him. “Luke”

He just shrugs, backing away. “You should talk.”

Fuck you luke

And before you can argue, he’s already walking up the dock, leaving you alone with Jack.

The air feels thick with something unspoken as Luke disappears into the house, the sound of the door shutting behind him echoing across the quiet lake.

You don’t look at Jack. Not right away. Instead, you stare down at the rippling water, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

Jack shifts on his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he says after a long moment. His voice is quieter than you expected. Careful.

You swallow hard. “Yeah, well. I didn’t think you were coming back today.”

Jack exhales, and you finally force yourself to glance at him. He looks tired. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced, his usual easy posture stiff, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to be here.

“I was gonna wait,” he says, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to the dock. “But I just I don’t know. I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Your fingers curl against the wood, nails pressing into the grain. “For what?”

Jack lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “For this,” he says. “For seeing you.” He stops, his throat bobbing. “For whatever happens next.”

A lump rises in your throat. You want to tell him nothing happens next. That it’s too late. That he made sure of that months ago.

But the words won’t come.

Instead, you stare at him, your chest tightening with something you don’t want to name. Something fragile and painful and real.

Jack takes a small step forward. “I know you don’t want to see me,” he says. “And I get it. I do. But I just I couldn’t stay away.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking back at the water. “Maybe you should have.”

Jack flinches, just barely. “Maybe,” he admits. “But I didn’t.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. The lake laps gently against the shore, the summer air warm around you.

Jack shifts again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know if you’ll ever want to talk to me again,” he says, voice rough. “But I had to come back. Even if it’s just to tell you I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightens. “Jack-”

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he interrupts, holding your gaze. “I swear. Just say the word.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t trust yourself too.

Because for months, you thought you wanted him to stay gone. But now that he’s here, standing in front of you, looking at you like that.

You’re not sure anymore.

Jack watches you, his breathing uneven, like he’s waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But you can’t give him one. Not yet.

Your chest feels too tight, your mind racing through everything at once. The months apart. The silence. The way he shattered everything with a few careless words. And now he’s here, standing on the dock like he belongs, like he can just step back into your life because he decided he’s ready.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you want it to be.

Jack runs a hand through his hair, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Nothing,” he says. “I just don't want to leave things like this.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Like what, Jack?”

“Like I broke everything and never tried to fix it.”

Your stomach twists. You stare at him, searching his face for the version of him you used to know the boy who used to feel like home. But all you see is the space between who he was and who he’s become, and you don’t know if you fit anywhere in between.

“You did break everything,” you say, and your voice wavers despite your best effort to keep it steady. “And then you let me leave”

Jack’s jaw tightens. “I know,” he murmurs. “And I hated it.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away. He looks away, out at the lake, like the words are stuck in his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Because I was scared I told you this.”

The confession hangs between you, thick with regret. You should be angry. Maybe you are. But beneath it, there’s something else, something raw and aching, something that feels dangerously close to understanding.

Jack exhales, shaking his head. “I messed up,” he says. “I know I did. And I don’t expect you to just forget it, or forgive me, or anything like that. I just, I needed to see you. Even if it’s just this once.”

Your fingers curl against the wood of the dock. You should tell him to leave. You should walk away first. But you don’t. It’s his dock after all.

Because for all the hurt and anger and unanswered questions, for all the ways he’s let you down. Jack has always been the one person you could never quite let go of.

Jack shifts, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket, looking down at the worn wooden boards of the dock. “I don’t know if it means anything,” he says, voice quiet, “but I never stopped thinking about you.”

Your breath catches, and you hate how much those words stir something inside you. “Thinking about me didn’t stop you from ignoring me and pushing me away when all I wanted to do is be there for you. you stopped letting me in Jack."

Jack flinches. “I know.” His voice is hoarse, raw, like he’s forcing the words out. “And I don’t expect you to believe me, but I hated myself for it.”

You shake your head, looking back at the water, your hands gripping the edge of the dock like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “Hating yourself doesn’t change anything, Jack.”

Jack exhales, long and unsteady. “I know that too.”

Silence stretches between you again. The lake ripples gently against the shore, the air thick with humidity and something you can’t name.

Then, he moves. Just barely. A half step closer. Not enough to bridge the distance, but enough that you can feel it his presence, his hesitation, his regret.

“I won’t push,” he says after a long moment. “I just needed you to know. That I never stopped caring. That I never stopped-” He exhales sharply, cutting himself off before the word loving can leave his lips.

You close your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to breathe.

When you finally look at him, he’s already watching you, his expression open in a way it never was before. Vulnerable. Honest.

You don’t know what to do with that.

“I don’t know jack.”

Jack nods once, like he expected that. Like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable. But then, instead of walking away, instead of saying goodbye he just says, “I’ll see you around.”

And then he does walk away, up the dock, back toward the house, leaving you there with nothing but the echo of his words and the sound of the water lapping at the shore.

You don’t move for a long time.

Because you don’t know what you want anymore.

You don’t move until the sound of the screen door clicking shut fades into the stillness of the lake. Even then, your muscles stay locked, fingers clenched against the dock, breathing shallow like if you breathe too hard, everything will come crashing down again.

Luke was right. You should talk.

But what does talking even fix?

What does this fix?

The summer air is warm, but you feel cold. Cold in a way that has nothing to do with the breeze rolling off the water and everything to do with the way Jack just looked at you like he was still searching for something in you, something familiar, something that maybe isn’t his to find anymore.

And yet. You should’ve felt relieved when he walked away.

But all you feel is this dull ache in your chest, pressing against your ribs like it’s trying to crawl its way out.

A deep sigh from behind you breaks your trance.

You don’t have to turn around to know Luke is back.

You wipe at your face quickly though you don’t think you’re crying and only glance at him when he drops down beside you on the dock, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“You wanna hit me for leaving?” he asks casually, tossing a rock into the water.

You scoff, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re an asshole.”

Luke grins, but it fades quickly. “You okay?”

You don’t answer right away, just stare at the water, the ripples from his rock barely noticeable. “I don’t know,” you admit.

Luke hums like he expected that. He leans back on his hands, looking up at the sky, the sun sinking lower, painting streaks of pink and orange through the clouds.

“I didn’t know he was coming back today. I would’ve told you.,” he says after a moment. “Thought it was next week.”

You swallow, shifting your hands in your lap. “I know.”

“I also didn’t know he was gonna come straight here.”

Your stomach twists. “He came straight here?”

Luke nods. “Dropped his bag in the house and then walked out here.” He pauses, glancing at you. “Think that means something.”

You shake your head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make it sound like” You cut yourself off, gritting your teeth. “Like it changes anything.”

Luke doesn’t argue. He just looks back at the lake. “Doesn’t have to change anything,” he says simply. “But I think it means he cares.”

You let out a short laugh, bitter and tired. “Caring wasn’t the problem.”

Luke tilts his head, considering that. “No,” he agrees. “But it’s a start.”

You don’t respond.

Because you don’t know what to say.

Jack came back. He came straight to you. He stood there, waiting, offering something not a fix, not an excuse, but something.

And maybe it’s not enough.

But maybe it’s not nothing, either.

You watch the water for a long time, the sky shifting from soft sunset hues to deeper shades of blue. Luke doesn’t press, doesn’t push. He just sits there, existing beside you, letting the quiet settle.

And when the last bit of daylight fades, and the only sounds left are the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle lap of the water against the shore, you finally let yourself whisper the thing you haven’t allowed yourself to say for months.

“I don’t know how to hate him.”

Luke doesn’t look at you, but you feel his understanding in the way his shoulder bumps against yours.

“Maybe you don’t have to.”

You exhale, long and shaky.

You don’t know if he’s right. You don’t know what any of this means. But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel as certain about keeping Jack out as you once did. 

And that terrifies you more than anything.

You don’t move for a long time. Neither does Luke.

The two of you sit there, the night settling around you, wrapping the dock in quiet, in something close to peace. If it weren’t for the weight sitting heavy in your chest, you could almost pretend everything was normal.

But it’s not and it hasn’t been for a long time.

Luke finally shifts beside you, rubbing his hands together as if to warm them, but you know it’s not the cold he’s trying to get rid of. You can feel the quiet question in the way his gaze lingers on you, but he doesn’t press, doesn’t ask what’s going on in your head. He doesn’t need to.

“You know, I always thought it was pretty simple,” Luke says, his voice casual again, though there’s a hint of something deeper in it. “You and Jack. The way you two were.”

You glance at him quickly, surprised by the words. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking at the sky, then at the water. “You always seemed like two halves of the same whole, you know? Like it was just meant to be.” He exhales slowly, like it’s a thought that’s been lingering in his mind for a while. “But sometimes, I guess, it’s not that simple. people change.”

You feel a pang in your chest at that something between regret and hope. You want to say something, but you don’t have the words. You want to scream at him that it was simple, that it was easy, until it wasn’t. But all that comes out is a soft exhale.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to be this hard,” you say quietly, and it’s the truth. The way Jack left.the way you left. The way things ended. All of it feels like a twisted knot you’ve been trying to unravel for months, but every time you get close, it tightens again.

Luke’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “What do you think it means, that he came back?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel it weigh on you, pressing into your ribs like a cold hand. Jack didn’t have to come back. He didn’t have to show up here, and yet he did.

You want to tell Luke that you don’t care. That it doesn’t matter. But you can’t. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice small. “I don’t know if it means anything at all.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Luke says, his voice softening. “But I think you want it to mean something.”

You don’t respond. You don’t know how. The truth is, you do want it to mean something, but you’re too scared to hope that it might. And that kind of pain? You’re not sure if you can handle it again.

Luke stands up slowly, stretching his arms above his head. “Hey,” he says, glancing at you with that same steady, knowing look. “I know you’re not ready for whatever this is with Jack. But you’ve gotta stop pretending that you don’t care. You’re better than that.”

You swallow, a lump rising in your throat. It’s easier to pretend you don’t care, to convince yourself that it’s over, that Jack’s no longer a part of your life. But that’s not the truth. The truth is every part of you still aches for him.

“I’m not pretending,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t know what to do with it.”

Luke nods, his eyes softening, but he doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t need to. You feel the weight of his unspoken words settle between you, and for the first time in a long while, the silence doesn’t feel suffocating.

“I’ll leave you to think about it,” Luke says after a moment, his voice a little more playful, breaking the tension. “Just don’t stay out here all night, okay? We’ve got a long summer ahead of us.”

You nod, the smallest smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Thanks, Lukey.”

He gives you one last, lingering look before heading inside. You watch his silhouette disappear into the house, and once again, you’re left alone on the dock, staring out at the lake, the endless expanse of water stretched out before you.

But this time, it’s different. For the first time, you feel like you’re not completely alone. Like, maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to figure everything out tonight.

Jack came back. He showed up. And you’re not sure what that means, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s the first step back to something real.

The night is quiet again, the world around you settling into that peaceful hum it always does at this hour. The crickets are still singing, the water is still lapping against the shore. And in the distance, you can hear the faintest sound of footsteps on the dock, a reminder that things might be changing, and you’re not sure where they’ll lead.

But you’re willing to find out.

Luke’s footsteps fade as he heads back inside, leaving you alone on the dock with your thoughts. The evening air is cooler now, the breeze brushing against your skin, but you barely notice. The lake reflects the dimming sky, ripples catching the fading light, as if the world is holding its breath.

It feels almost peaceful here, a quiet that’s both comforting and suffocating at once. You’ve spent countless evenings on this dock, but tonight is different. Everything is different. You don’t know if it's the weight of the words Luke left you with, or the fact that Jack's presence still lingersin the air. But something inside you is shifting, and you don’t know how to stop it.

⟡

You don’t notice at first.

Not really.

The little things. The quiet ways Jack moves around you, never asking for anything, never forcing his way in.

There’s always an extra water bottle in the fridge, the brand you like, the one you always reach for first. It’s never mentioned, never pointed out, just there, cold and waiting. One time, you grab the last one, and the next morning, the fridge is stocked again. You don’t see him do it, but you know it’s him.

When you sit outside with Luke in the evening, Jack’s hoodie somehow ends up draped over the back of your chair. It’s too warm for it, but you don’t move it. It smells like detergent and something that’s just him. Familiar. Unavoidable. When the wind picks up and the air shifts cooler, you don’t think before pulling it on. Later, when you catch him looking at you in it, he doesn’t say anything. Just presses his lips together and looks away.

At dinner, he never takes the seat next to you. Not once. He could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits just far enough that you don’t have to acknowledge him, but close enough that if you need the salt or the serving spoon or another napkin, he can pass it to you without hesitation. He does every time, even when someone else could. You don’t thank him, but you never don’t take it.

You say you’re not hungry one night, push your plate away after barely picking at it. No one calls you on it. No one says anything. But later, when you go into the kitchen, the snack you like is left on the counter. No note. No explanation. Just there. You stare at it for a long time before taking it to your room.

When you sit with everyone on the dock, he’s always the last one inside. It’s not obvious, not really, but it happens every time. He waits until you’ve gone in first, even if it means staying out later than he would otherwise.

You don’t catch him looking at you much. He doesn’t push, doesn’t try to talk about things you’re not ready for. But when he walks by, his hand lingers for just a second on the back of your chair. A second too long to be incidental, too short to be anything more. Just enough for you to notice.

And maybe it doesn’t mean anything.

Or maybe it does.

You’re not sure which thought is worse.

The house is quiet when you slip out.

Everyone else is asleep, the soft hum of the AC the only sound as you step carefully over the creaky floorboards. The cool night air hits you the second you step outside, the warmth of the house falling away as you make your way down toward the dock.

You don’t know why you’re out here. Or maybe you do. Maybe it’s the way the weight in your chest feels heavier inside, how the silence of the guest room is too loud, pressing in on you in a way you can’t shake. Out here, the night stretches wide, the water calm, dark, endless.

You sit at the edge of the dock, legs dangling over, the tips of your toes skimming the surface. The water ripples, soft and slow, carrying secrets you don’t have the words for.

You wrap your arms around yourself, staring out across the lake, watching the way the moonlight dances over the water. It’s peaceful, quiet in a way that should feel empty but doesn’t.

The sound of a door creaking open catches your attention. Your heart jumps, and instinctively, your gaze shifts toward the sound. You don’t need to look to know who it is.

Jack.

He’s standing at the end of the dock now, his figure barely visible in the low light, but you can feel the tension in the air between you. The same tension that’s been building for months, even before he left, before everything turned to dust.

You don’t say anything, just stare at him. You can feel his gaze on you, searching, waiting. There’s something in his eyes, something deeper than the uncertainty in yours. Maybe he’s been carrying this weight too.

Finally, his voice breaks the silence, a little quieter than usual. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t expect him to be here. Not like this, not after everything.

You let out a shaky breath and glance at him, your throat tight. “Was just about to go back to the room.” you reply, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s the truth if only because you don’t want to be here anymore, alone with all these feelings.

He doesn’t respond right away, just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets. You try to ignore the way your heart stutters in your chest at the sight of him. The Jack you knew is still there, but there’s something different, something unsure in the way he holds himself now.

And then you remember what Luke said. “He didn’t have to come back. He didn’t have to show up here, and yet he did.”

Jack didn’t have to come here. He could have gone anywhere else. But he chose this place. He chose to come to you.

Your thoughts start to unravel, and before you can stop yourself, the question slips out. “Luke told me you came straight here. No unpacking, no nothing. Just here.”

Jack’s gaze flickers briefly to the ground, but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he speaks again, his voice is low, almost a whisper. “Yeah. I didn’t really know where else to go.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for the first time in months, you feel like you might be able to breathe again. He didn’t know where else to go. It doesn’t mean everything’s fixed, doesn’t mean you’ve figured out what you’re supposed to do now, but it’s something.

You stand slowly, moving to the edge of the dock, the space between you two still stretching, but somehow smaller now. You look at Jack, really look at him. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but there’s something soft there now, something vulnerable.

You don’t know how to say it. You don’t know what to say. All you know is that the walls you’ve built between you and him no matter how high they were are starting to crack.

“Jack,” you start, but your voice falters. “what does this mean? Coming back like this?”

His gaze shifts back to you, and you see him swallow hard. His jaw tightens, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes, a sign that maybe he’s been struggling with this too.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I just couldn't stay away. I thought I could. Thought I was better off doing this on my own, but I was wrong.”

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you, feeling that familiar pull in your chest that’s been there from the very start.

Jack doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you’re not sure what to expect. But then, his hand reaches out, tentatively, like he’s testing the waters. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t grab your arm or pull you in, but you can feel the warmth of his fingers just inches from your skin.

The air around you both is thick, charged with everything you’ve both been holding back for so long. You don’t know where this will lead, don’t know what happens next. But for the first time in a long time, you’re not scared of it.

You swallow and take that last step forward, your hand reaching for his, fingers brushing ever so gently. Neither of you pulls away.

You glance at Jack again, and the weight of everything, the unanswered questions to the unanswered feelings , the cold silences, the way everything has shifted between you two starts to settle back on your shoulders. It all feels so close, like you could reach out and touch it, but you’re not sure if you want to.

"I didn't think you'd come back this early," you say, breaking the silence, your voice more neutral than you feel. "I was told you were coming back next week."

Jack’s eyes flick over to you for a second, but he doesn’t look like he has an answer. He shrugs, a little sheepish. "I thought I’d head back sooner. Wasn’t much keeping me there. Kinda just wanted to get home." He glances down at the dock, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I guess I just wanted to clear my head, I guess."

You look away, not sure how to respond. The words you’ve been holding onto are trapped somewhere deep inside you, and they don’t seem to want to come out right now. It’s almost easier to stay quiet, to pretend you don’t care, than to admit how much you still feel like you’re waiting for something, anything, to change.

You let the silence linger between you two, the soft lapping of the water against the dock filling the space where words should be. 

Jack shifts beside you, but he doesn’t push. He’s waiting for you to speak. And for the first time in a long time, you realize how much you miss the quiet moments with him. How easy it used to be, before everything got so complicated. Before you ended things in New Jersey, when you left feeling more lost than when you got there.

"I didn't want it to end the way it did," you say, almost too quietly. You know it’s not a huge revelation, but somehow the weight of it feels bigger now that it’s out in the open. "I thought Maybe if you had just talked to me, things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. And I couldn’t just wait around for you to figure it out."

Jack doesn’t reply right away. His face is unreadable, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even hearing you. Then he finally looks over, his gaze soft but guarded. "I know I screwed up. I was just trying to figure stuff out myself, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I didn’t want to drag you into it."

There’s a rawness in his voice that you didn’t expect. It’s not a perfect apology, but it’s real. And that feels like a step, even if it’s a small one.

"I don’t know what we’re doing," you admit, running a hand through your hair, frustration seeping through despite yourself. "I don’t know if we can just pick up where we left off. But it’s hard, Jack. It’s really hard."

He leans back on his hands, looking at the sky, a long breath leaving his chest. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were," he says quietly. "I just want to make things right. I don’t know if that’s even possible, but I’m here. I’m here if you want to figure it out."

You pause, your heart racing even though the conversation is as calm as it’s been in a long time. There’s a quiet truth to what he’s saying. And while you’re still unsure about everything, you can’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something different.

You don’t know what’s going to happen, but for the first time in months, you're not as scared of finding out.

You stand there quietly, staring at the water, unsure of what to say. The weight of everything that’s happened between you and Jack feels heavier tonight. You’ve spent months pushing down your feelings, convincing yourself that moving on was the right thing to do. But now that he’s here, standing next to you again, everything you thought was buried deep inside resurfaces.

You can feel his gaze on you, steady, waiting for some kind of response, but all you can manage is silence. It’s not that you don’t know what to say it’s just that you’re afraid of saying the wrong thing.

The words finally break free when you speak quietly, your voice almost trembling. “I still care about you, Jack. I always have.”

You turn your head to meet his eyes, and there’s a vulnerability in them that you can’t hide anymore. He looks like he’s waiting for something more, something deeper, but you're not sure if you’re ready to give that yet.

“I never stopped loving you,” you admit softly, the words escaping before you even realize you’ve said them.

Jack’s expression softens, and you see the relief in his eyes. He’s been waiting to hear that for so long, and you know it. But at the same time, the confession feels like a weight you weren’t quite prepared for.

“But,” you add, your voice trembling slightly, “it’s not that simple. I can’t just go back to the way things were. I can’t pretend like everything that happened didn’t matter.”

Jack doesn’t interrupt. He just listens, nodding, waiting for you to continue.

“I still care about you,” you say again, this time with more certainty. “I still love you, but we can’t just jump right back into this. Not after everything. Not after how it ended. It’s not that easy.”

There’s a quiet understanding in his eyes, the kind that makes you feel seen and heard in a way you didn’t think was possible. But there’s also a hint of sadness, and you know it’s because he wants more. He wants to make things right. But you need time. You need space to figure out what it is you really want.

“I’m not asking you to forget everything,” Jack says, his voice low but steady. “I’m just asking for a chance. I haven't changed, it's just difficult.”

You want to believe him. You want to believe that the guy sitting next to you now is the same person who left for New Jersey, the one who shut you out when he needed you the most. But at the same time, part of you can’t help but wonder if it’s all just words.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I know you want to fix things, Jack. And I want that too. But we need to take this slow. I need time. I can’t just rush back into something that hurt me so much.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes never leaving yours. It’s like he’s weighing your words, taking them in before he responds.

“I’m okay with that,” he says finally. “I don’t expect things to go back to normal overnight. I’m not going anywhere, though. I’ll be here. I just I need you to know that I want to make it right. I’m willing to wait. As long as it takes.”

You look at him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s not a guarantee. It’s not a promise that things will be easy, but it’s something. Something real.

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “I can’t promise you anything right now, Jack. But I’m not going to shut you out. I’m not going to pretend like I still don't want to be with you.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, it feels like the tension that’s been lingering between you two lifts just a little. It’s not perfect. It’s not fixed. But it’s a start.

“I’m okay with taking it slow,” Jack says quietly, his hand shifting closer to yours, but not quite reaching for it. He’s giving you the space you need.

You nod, glancing back at the water. The night feels different now, the air softer, like something is shifting. Maybe it’s not everything you want yet, but it’s something. Something you can work with.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” you whisper, the weight of those words settling into your chest. “But no promises.”

Jack smiles, a little more hopeful now, but he doesn’t push. He understands.

And for the first time in those six months since the break up, you feel like maybe just maybe this is the beginning of something real again. Something that can’t be rushed.

[unluckilyimnot]

Okay, but bonten with like a SUPER soft gf. Like, we talk like cry on every sad movie ivies with an animal to be specific). Takes things other says to heart. Often like cry over small things and stops to pet EVERY single animal she sees.

Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like doing this one 😭 I know it’s lowkey weird.

Bonten with a soft gf!

Characters: rindou, ran, kaku, mikey, sanzu, kokonoi

fluff / no tw / wc: 900+

Note : no way it's so cute don't ever worry !! I love it, thank you sm ! I dispatched it between all the characters. I hope it's fine.

m.list | rules

Rindou never minded more than that the fact that you cry a lot. He loves it a lot and it makes him chuckle and laugh more than anything else. He's always there to wipe your tears away when you cry when the dog dies in the movies, or when you tear up at any inconveniences. You wear your heart on your sleeve, you're sensible, the opposite of him, and he cares and loves you for that.

Yet he's the first one to draw a radical line the second you get hurt, in any way, by someone. It's silly and fun until some abuse it and use it against you or to hurt you. He will find who did this, who made you cry and will burn their house down.

Sanzu sighs a lot when you decide something was wrong when he, in fact, didn't care. Yet his heart always skips a beat when he hears you speaking louder than you usually do, mad at people treating him poorly. He listens to you for a while before he finally steps in and holds your hands when he's feeling cheesy, or your elbows when he's a bit tired or high.

"Babe, it's really nothing. Don't worry yourself like that, you'll get wrinkles." He honestly makes you laugh every time, or at least confort you that he doesn't care about anyone's opinion besides yours. And oh how much you love and care for him everyday, he can't even doubt it. He wished you'd stop hurting yourself over things like this, but recognize that your sweet nature is definitely what he loves the most about you.

Ran laughs at you when you get offended for nothing. It can be about something going your way to work to you spiking your coffee on the counter. It's his own comic relief of the day when you're stroming around, a deep frown on your face making you look like a small, angry animal but still defenseless. His laughter always makes it worse, without mentioning his venom filled remarques, to make fun of your overreacting nature. To the point you can cry and not speak to him for hours – but for sure mentioning it all to Rindou.

Ran hates it when you team up with him, because you wouldn't talk to him but Rindou would, on the other hand, mention you and everything you told him to Ran. He's always making the first step to you and apologizing with probably a hundred wroth bouquet and your favorite snacks – promising you he'll never do it again, when he will most certainly do it again.

Seeing you enjoying small things about life is the reason why Mikey kept you around at first, you reminded him of his younger self and his friends at that time. Every time you stop to pet a stranger's dog, a small smile shows on his lips, one you rarely get to see even if you're always the reason for it.

You listen to him so carefully the few times he does talk to you, it makes him feel alive again. You're doing most of the talking and you're always so sorry to take this kich when that's what he loves about you. He makes sure to tell you that he likes it from time to time, just to be sure you won't stop. Your heart is so soft and warm, welcoming him every time you see him again with new facts you learn and an unconditional love that overflows everywhere, and he gets the chance to be showered with it every time.

Kokonoi gets used to you stopping all the time the second you catch the glimpse of a stay animal. So he instinctively adds ten minutes to every trip you two have to do, even if it's only to walk to his car because there's a few stray cats in the parking lot and he's sure you're gonna stop or even wait for them to walk out from their hide spot.

But he just can't bring himself to get impatient when your eyes light up at the sight of the small cats. The way you jolt in joy when their cold nose finally touches your hand, and you look up to him with the softest smile he ever had the chance to witness. Yes, you're usually late, but he just had to snap a picture of you with the white kitten and everyone is accepting the fact that those ten minutes of your happiness are worth the delayed meetings.

Kakucho's always there to rub your back when you cry in front of a movie. He never sees why you cry particularly, but always listen thoughtfully to what you have to say about it. He brings you tissues, sometimes even wipes your nose for you and lets you dive into his arms when a character you like dies. He can't help but tell himself how sensible you are every time, but also how he loves that. You bring him back to his human nature and what it is to be emphatic about normal things, far from his rough life where his life is at risk every time he steps outside the door.

To that, he hopes he'll never be the reason for your tears, and that he'll always be there to wipe them away and shush you down.

Sorry its rather short, tell me if you want a particular hc with one or a whole os.

Let me know if you liked it !

[ivhmavie]

you’re too sweet for me

hwang in ho

first of all, just a little advice that english its not my first language! be kind

༶ he knew that you were too good for him, that hi’s world was way to cruel and defiant to a girl like you. The games, the carnage, the involvement of VIPs, the arrogance, the money.

༶ but oh, everytime that he sees you, he forgets that. The monotonous days that he spent locked in his small apartment, without spending a cent of his prize, began to have a purpose when he knew you.

༶ your laugh, that he heard before seeing you, your hands looking for something to hold on to so you don't fall, your shy look when you apologize for tripping over him and your gentle tone of voice. The joy that only the joviality and naivety of someone who did not see bad things in your eyes.

༶ you were an interesting little thing to him. Something that took him out of his automatic state on days when he waited until the next game.

༶ it had been a long time since he allowed himself to think of a woman as anything other than a one night fuck.

༶ his routine was messy. Normally he would spend part of the morning with a glass of whiskey while talking to the VIPs about the next edition of the games or evaluating the people recruited for the game.

༶ and the more you two talked, the more he realized that you were too sweet. Trying to balance your study routine and still take care of yourself.

༶ the first time you went out, he couldn't say for sure what had made you shy. Whether it was the expensive restaurant, which you clearly couldn't afford with any part-time job as a student. Or if it was because he was older than you. Whether it was the experience, or his money that intimidated you, he liked it.

༶ for him, it was fun to see you turn into a shy mess, not knowing where to look, fidgeting with your own hands.

༶ honestly, he likes seeing you shy. Whether it's because he took you to a chic and expensive place, because he gave you a very pricey gift and you don't know how to react, or because of the comments from people who see you together, even when your friend talks about the "hot, rich old man" that you’re going out with

“soo, did you two already..?” your best friend asks sitting on your bed, watching you open another gift from in-ho. Not that you were complaining, but you didn't know how to reciprocate while he spoiled you so much.

“did we what?” you ask a little confused, turning your present okhar away to look at your friend. After a while, you got used to her being excited to see you dating someone, especially a rich older man who treats you like his wife.

“god, you’re so naive, I’m talking about sex” when you heard what she said, you looked at her a little disconcerted as you finish opening the package and see a beautiful pair of boots, it was obvious that she would want to know the details. And you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it yet.

“noo!! we did not, it’s still a little to early for that”you respond, laughing and throwing one of the pairs of boots at her as a joke. “now come here, I need help with this other gift”

༶ and yes, sex with him is for sure a thing.

༶ he’s a natural dom. Even though he likes the view of having you on top, he loves having you on the bottom. He's a big, muscular man, and he's not at all modest about it. So having a small girl underneath him is exciting.

༶ he likes to hold one of your hands when you are underneath, the other hand on the side of your head. But sometimes, when things are at their roughest, he likes to have a firm hand around your neck, kissing you while his other hand travels between your legs and massages the inside of your thighs.

༶ afterwards he would like to stay in bed, you lying with your head on his chest while he pours himself a glass of drink. Hearing you talk about that mean teacher who is very strict with you, or about the girls you and your friends don't like.

༶ he allows himself to think it's funny. While your mind is filled with the things you want to buy, your care routine and the tests you have to study for, he thinks about games, receiving VIP guests and especially how to keep everything in order.

༶ when he has to return to the island for the games, he invents a business trip, you are a little confused, because he had never told you about his work. So he uses as an excuse the story that he comes from a rich family and is going to visit some important old friends.

༶ during game week, he seriously considered telling you about everything. You missed him, considering that you were practically never apart from each other since you started dating. He had even planned to ask you to live with him, having even bought an expensive and large apartment for that.

༶ after a while, he started taking you to some events that he, as the frontman, attended, like the Halloween. Even if he hadn't told you exactly what he worked with, you could already tell that it wasn't something common, but you didn't care, you just wanted him.

༶ so when he tells you about the games, you accept it. Of course, you're so good to him, you'd never doubt him when he said they were just giving people a better opportunity.

༶ in the next edition you would watch the games with him. In-ho sat on the couch, a glass of whiskey neat in his hand, with you snuggled next to him, hiding your face in his chest every time someone got shot or got a bad bruise.

༶ he likes to admire you. He knows you are bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine and as sweet as a grape. hee knows he's the opposite of those cute and innocent things, but he can't resist keeping you close, pulling you more and more into his world, even if you were too sweet for him.

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

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The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

[freaktoru]

Can I pleeeease have some general bf headcanons for Igris x reader? Theres a severe lack of content for the knight in shining armour </3

summary: igris x reader - what igris would be like as your bf. warnings: smut, fluff, just the regular hc silliness. author's note: thank u for the request <3 i absolutely adore igris. i hope you enjoy!

like jinwoo, igris is very introverted and suuuuper shy. get ready to be making those moves baby, because he won't.

he just refuses to believe that you actually like him.

he won't admit that he likes you until he actually has to lol

i actually imagine you fall in love with him without actually seeing his face, so when he finally takes that helmet off and reveals his long hair pulled into a manbun, fuckkkkkkkk, panties dropped. instantly.

but when you two finally (after so much yearning) start dating, igris will truly be the best boyfriend.

in comparison to his very intense and precise fighting style, igris is a very gentle lover.

he is so so so attentive, always keeping an eye on you no matter where the two of you are, and always knowing how you're feeling.

he has a very strong fear of losing you. seeing so much death had traumatized him to an extent, making him overly fearful of losing you.

he's a true protector, having been a knight for so long has instilled that command in him. he lives to protect you and keep you far far away from harm.

despite being very quiet and keeping to himself, he's good at communication and comfort. he's always willing to talk through a problem together and face any hardships as a team.

love languages - words of affirmation, quality time and a teeny bit of physical touch.

he's very articulate and good with his words, but not very touchy. i think he's so used to using his body to fight and protect that any soft physical touch actually throws him off at first, but he comes to love it later on in your relationship.

DO NOT LET THIS MAN INTO THE KITCHEN!!! he will burn it down. he never learned to cook and no offense igris, but don't try to learn, please. do us all a favour and stay away from the stove.

he's just so soft with you in your relationship. he loves to be gentle and kind for you (this doesn't apply to the sex tho. be ready to be bedridden after he's done with you. more on this later.)

back hugs. he absolutely loves to hug you from the back when you're cooking or doing work. he'll wrap his strong arms around your waist and rest his neck on your shoulder.

neck kisses. yeah. he loves it both ways, whether it's him coming up to you to kiss you while hugging you from the back^ or he'll absolutely lose his mind to the feeling of you pressing your lips to his neck.

bad texter. he's reserved, and also doesn't see the point of emoji's or useless texts.

goes MAD when you brush his hair. fuck. he'll close his eyes and pretend to fall asleep just so you keep doing it lol. he's so cute.

if you're mad at him and the two of you argue, he will get on his knees in front of you to apologize. that's just the type of man he is. i don't make the rules.

his favourite pet names for you include baby, PRINCESS (get it cuz he’s ur knight), love

super patient with you. never rushes you, lets you take your time and honestly just enjoys watching the way you handle situations, interact with people and overall go through life.

very jealous. he doesn't like other people fucking around with you. once he got you, he intends to keep you.

very very caring. he's the best person to have around when you're sick. he will sit by your side day and night until you are fully recovered.

speaking of being sick, he's the type of person to not want to inconvenience you so he will pretend he's fine up until this man literally collapses from his fever. fucking annoying. but he'll relish in every moment that you take care of him.

he's okay with pda. not crazy about it but if you like it, he will do it for YOU.

that's his attitude with a lot of things, if you like something and he doesn't he will still do it because he is just so down bad for you.

lowkey an adrenaline junkie. i imagine he actually really loves adrenaline and loves driving fast.

ok wait hear me the fuck out here. remember how i said jinwoo would drive a motorcycle? well he needs a partner in crime. someone to race with. who is that someone? you guessed right. it's igris.

they'll go on late night drives together all the time.

loves the gym. he's lowkey a gym bro. i mean hello, he's a knight so he has to stay in good shape but i think he mostly likes it as a form of stress relief (when fucking you is not available)

fav season is definitely winter. he loves to cozy up with you and really likes playing in the snow lol. (but don't tell beru cuz he needs to keep his mysterious and collected facade up around the other shadows)

he's kind of a child at heart. he comes off as super serious and he's very locked in when he's fighting with jinwoo but when he's with you he feels like he can comfortably relax and be a little sillier.

he screams morning person. he will wake up early to go on a run or go to the gym while you sleep in.

really likes taking candle-lit bubble baths with you. he loves having the two of you wash each others hair.

now for my fav: igris in bed.

this man is kinky. real kinky.

his bedroom energy is the same as when he's all worked up and in combat.

he likes to take control and he likes it ROUGHHHH

this man has insane stamina. never seen anything like it. (i can confirm i've been in his bed.)

he may be a gentle lover but that trait is far gone when he is absolutely fucking you into the mattress.

likes to have your ankles on his shoulders when he fucks you so he can hit deeeeeep.

really into choking and breath play. likes to see you squirm under him.

FACE SITTINGGGGGG!!!! he'll have u sit on his face for HOURS before that man lets you go. he's extremely addicted to eating pussy. don't you dare deprive him.

with that he's a huge fan of overstimulation. can you imagine omfg. "p-please igris, n-no more, i c-can't" you stutter pathetically, your eyes all bleary and hair disheveled from him pulling it while pounding into you from the back. "hmm i think you can take just one more princess" he'd say, his voice all raspy n breathy from going multiple rounds. "n-no" you plead, trying to pull away. it's just too much. he's fucked you out so good on his cock you simply cannot take it anymore. "shh, you're such a good girl, taking it so well, c'mon gimme one more baby" he'd coo, rubbing soothing circles onto the bruises he formed on your hips from how tight he held you. god. i'm so deeply unwell for this man.

he BITES. oh yes. he will bite you alllll over, leaving little love marks all over your neck, your tits, your ass honestly wherever he can mark you up, he'll do it.

huge fan of 69. he likes getting down and dirty TOGETHER.

also really likes to tie you up. especially to all 4 corners of the bed so he can do whatever he likes.

has the nicest cock hands down. not very thick but long and it curves upwards real nice so yk he's hitting that sweet spot in you every. single. time.

now hear me out: discipline kink. he really enjoys disciplining you.

you wanna act bratty? fine, but you won't be able to walk the next day and your ass will hurt. a ton.

despite him being jealous and possessive he likes threesomes. with jinwoo. i mean cmon he’s his main man, how could they not.

overall igris is the bestttttt lover both in and outside the bedroom<3

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[xi-vz]

HC—Luo Binghe looks almost identical to Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky. (basically Airplane is hot but doesn’t realize it.)

•

•

•

Shen Yuan woke up back in modern China after spending sixty years in PIDW, so, of course, the first thing he did was message Airplane.

(That’s actually the second… third?…thing he did. The first was trying reach out to the system. The second was crying.) ((But if Shen Yuan were asked why he was crying he’d scoff. Tears? No way! His eyes were just dry.))

Anyway, he reached out to Shang Qinghua—who, by the grace of God, came back with him—and found out that they both lived in Hong Kong. And not only that, but in the same neighborhood! Which was insane, but also very lucky. Maybe even too lucky? The universe never usually helped them out. Maybe this kindness of them being so near each other was an apology from The System? Whatever it was, it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The two agreed to meet on a Saturday, when Shen Yuan didn’t have school (being back as a senior in high school sucked).

Here’s the thing, Shang Qinghua sent a long winded text as a warning about how he looked very different. Which…fair. Everyone in PIDW was gorgeous, and people in the real world were not like that.

They agreed to meet at a café. Shen Yuan had sent Shang Qinghua a selfie so the man knew who to look for. It was a decent selfie, one Shen Yuan may have spent too much time on. It was a mirror selfie, showing off a nice outfit and Shen Yuan throwing up a peace sign. The photo showed an older teenager, with black hair that fell to his shoulders, large black eyes, and a silly smile. (He sent the picture to his mom too.) ((Seeing his family again was a whole other story better never to be told. There were a lot of tears and hugs on Shen Yuan’s part. It was a little embarrassing.))

Shen Yuan had gotten to the café early, snagging a corner table and waited with two iced lattes. He watched people out of the window. The streets were busy with both pedestrians and cars, there were delivery bicyclists and people carrying shopping bags. It was crowded. And loud. And dirty.

Being back was weird.

But, having indoor air conditioning was nice. And the internet! Oh God, he’d sell his kidney for the internet back home.

He blinked his eyes, his contacts felt harsh against them. Years without needing them made him forget what they were like. He should’ve worn his glasses, but had honestly forgotten where he put them. Maybe he should buy another pair? It wasn’t like he lacked the funds and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be in the modern world.

It was the chair across from him scrapping across the wooden floor that startled Shen Yuan back into focus.

His phone told him that Airplane was five minutes late.

“About time you showed u—Binghe?” Shen Yuan gapped.

“Close-ish?” Shang Qinghua flushed and adjusted his black framed glasses. His curly hair was kept in an undercut, he had pierced ears and a lip piercing and a sleeve tattoo on his right arm. He had freckles, dimples, and a 5 o’clock shadow too. Which. What? Okay. “Hi.”

That was Shen Yuan’s husbands face looking back at him! Sure, the eyes were black and there was no demon mark, but he intimately knew that face.

“Qinghua?!” Shen Yuan wheezed his name, his heart doing weird things in his chest at the fucking shock. “You look…you’re nearly identical to…”

“Yeah,” Shang Qinghua sighed, “imagine how surprised I was the first time I saw Binghe. The system stole my face!”

The voice was the same as Luo Binghe’s, even though the pitch was a little different.

And the body. Because…Shang Qinghua was tall? And muscular? And he was mother fucking LUO BINGHE.

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan stared.

Shang Qinghua sighed as he grabbed his iced latte. His nails were painted black.

“My brain can’t—” comprehend this. Shen Yuan’s mind was static. Error 404 bounced around in his brain.

Was this some sick joke? Did The System do this? Was he really back in the bamboo house resting in bed and having a weird as fuck dream?!

“Wanna take this somewhere else?” Shang Qinghua asked, his eyes darted around the establishment uncomfortably. People were staring. At him. Because he was fucking gorgeous.

Shen Yuan had So. Many. Questions.

“Is it as bad as your office at An Ding?” Shen Yuan asked, his lips curled disdain.

Shang Qinghua huffed a soft sound of amusement. “Where do you think Binghe gets his clean freak mentality from?”

“Wait,” Shen Yuan stood up when Shang Qinghua did. “When you said you wrote a self-insert, you didn’t mean Shang Qinghua??? You meant Luo Binghe?!”

“Well, yeah, bro.” It was surreal to hear the word ‘bro’ come out of that mouth. “Binghe is all the good, bad and ugly of me, amped up to eleven. Well…with bad at a fifteen.”

“Wait, what?” The hamster in Shen Yuan’s wheel of a brain began to run faster as thoughts began to practically explode. But there was one that was louder than any of the other:

Did this mean that Shen Yuan basically married Shang Qinghua?!

[chrollohearttags]

hard to breathe • portgas d. ace

seeing your ‘ex’ boyfriend ace one last time for closure..or so you thought. (based off of this song I’ve been obsessed with for months. It’s ‘old’ but I felt like it fit him and the vibe of this fic)

📝: black fem!reader, lots of relationship angst, modern au, heavy kissing, arguing + lots of dialogue, they’re slightly toxic ( y’all both ain’t shit I’m sorry 😭), riding, car sex, dirty talk, breeding, baby trapping (kinda), infidelity, hair pulling, pet names and daddy used, crying

wc: 4.1K

🎙️: I love writing my faves in a bunch of different scenarios, including ones that aren’t typical for their personality. This is in no way condoning toxicity, infidelity or anything of the sort. I just thought it would be a lil fun to experiment.

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“Where are you right now?”

“I should be with you..”

“You know that’s not a good idea..”

“Yeah, but it’s what we both want..who cares if it’s wrong or not?”

3:30am

the deep drawl on the other end of the line luring you in with each word..it always had a tendency to do so, even when you wished you could just ignore it.

“Ace, what the hell do you want from me? Stop this.”

“C’mon, babe. It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty..what did I tell you? You’ve got to stop giving so much a damn about what other people think.”

“Go to hell. Not everyone can just mistreat people like it’s nothing.”

it was a shame honestly..this type of behavior was so unbecoming of both of you. A sweet girl who didn’t like to make much of a fuss for anyone or over anything. And him, the shining example of a stand up guy. Charming, kind, helpful, a little rough around the edges but what every man should strive to be. Yet here you were..whispering into the speaker of your phone as to not wake the one in the room next to you. A mere replacement to dull the ache in your heart caused by him and his stupidity. Meanwhile, he was chuckling in your ear. Seemingly teasing you because he could sense the tension in your shaky voice. He knew you’d bolt the second you heard a ruffle from the other room…but he also knew you’d never hang up. Knew you couldn’t resist answering in the first place and for damn sure, that you couldn’t resist his offer…

“I want to see you. I can be at your place in ten..”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s late, Ace..and—“

“And what? Afraid your little boyfriend might wake up? I know it’s not because you don’t want to see me either.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? How dare you? You ended things, Ace. Not me. So why the fuck do you keep hitting me up?”

the line would fall silent for a moment..only the shallow echoes of your breath captured on the opposite end. That was until you’d hear a sigh and his voice once more. This time with a much less arrogant tone.

“Listen, (y/n)..I get it. I fucked up..it’s my fault things turned out this way and I’m sorry. I know I can’t go back or change anything that happened between us but I can try to make it right. Even if it means someone else gets to do what I couldn’t…I just wanted a chance to apologize. In person…which I should’ve been man enough to do from the jump.”

the things in question? Your relationship..a bond of three years to be exact and a union everyone was certain would end in the two of you walking down the aisle. However, life has a funny way of throwing even the biggest of curveballs. This man had all but swept you off your feet one night a few summers ago..both out with friends and enjoying the night life as young singles should. Drinking, laughing and having a blast. Even though you were a bit more on the reserved side, he still managed to spot you out of all the beautiful women in that club that night. And trust, a fair share of them had been vying for his attention. Even so, he couldn’t focus on anyone but you. That was one of Ace’s many wonderful qualities. In a room full of people, he managed to make you feel special..as if you were the only one there. Which wasn’t exactly intentional..his biggest issue was that he tried to be friendly, trying his hardest not to hurt anyone’s feelings anymore. He struggled with his anger quite a bit when he was younger, taking next to nothing to set him off and if he was in the midst of conversation with one person, it was best that no one else tried to interrupt. However, he realized that only caused trouble so he always tried to greet someone regardless. It just didn’t fare very well when it came to women. No girl wants someone that it seems everyone can access to!

But alas, you sat in that section next to him; nursing your drinks and exchanging pleasantries. He was so easy to talk to. He had this awkward yet charming charisma about him. Almost as if despite his good looks, he wasn’t the ‘ladies man’ you’d peg him to be off first glance. Somehow though, he managed to get your number and the rest was history. You began hanging out, going on a couple dates..even spending a weekend together after a bad storm trapped the two of you inside of his apartment. You really enjoyed being around him and as time passed, the bond grew stronger. Six months later, you came over to visit and found yourself greeted by smoke and an obviously frustrated Ace covered in soot..a result of him attempting to cook a dinner to formally ask you to be his girlfriend! It was those goofy yet sweet gestures that made you adore him.

perfectly flawed was the best way to describe him in your book…maybe he made mistakes and maybe he didn’t come from this picturesque family but he was a damn good guy doing his best to be better than what he was used to. He was a hard worker and willing to fight for what he wanted.

You cherished every moment you guys got to spend together and at one point, you even got matching tattoos of half hearts on each of your hands..however, things began to crumble in the once ideal world you had curated together.

going from laughing all the time to petty arguments that seemed intentional. From spending late nights together..making love until the sun shines over your bodies..now you were blowing up his phone to see where he was. You began to suspect that he was cheating. Perhaps somewhere with another woman. But you were wrong..truth be told, he was running.

running away from a healthy home and relationship because he didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know how to process being loved unconditionally without expecting the worst to happen…he never figured himself to be good enough for you to begin with but here you were..constantly showering him with affection; buying him gifts, making his favorite meals and even surprising him with massages after long, stressful days at work. You were everything he didn’t deserve! Hence why..he felt the need to blow it up before it could escalate. He couldn’t let you continue treating someone like him as if he were special. Three weeks later, he texted you asking to break up and to say you were devastated? Was an understatement. You loved this man so damned much, you had already begun looking at wedding dresses and contemplating baby names, figuring you guys were in this for the long run. But fairy tales don’t exist and you weren’t getting the story book ending. Instead, you were left heartbroken..trying to piece yourself back together and figure out what went wrong.

“Just one last time, that’s all I’m asking. I want to say I’m sorry and then I’m out of your hair for good, I promise. I won’t bother you ever again..”

a solid compromise, you supposed. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look him in his eye and tell him to go fuck himself for how he fumbled you. He’d plead, calling your name until he got a response and finally:

“I’ll be in the lobby, call me when you get here.” Before disconnecting the line and releasing a heavy sigh. You fought back tears but in order for the next chapter of your life to begin, you had to finish this one. But the funny thing about some books…

is that they refused to remain closed!

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page break bc I don’t do filler

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“..it’s nice to see you again. You look beautiful as always—“

“Enough of the small talk. State your business and make it quick.”

the two of you sat parked outside of your luxury apartment complex, downstairs in the desolate parking garage. Your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner and his stretched across the steering wheel..that goofy snark on his face as he kissed his teeth. He knew you were fighting so hard to stand firm in your boundaries, something you struggled with in the past. And truthfully, he hated to disrupt that peace…but he was selfish, gluttonous even. He wasn’t always this nice guy everyone saw him as. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too and if that meant he’d leave your head a mess once again then so be it. A fucked up sentiment but the truth nonetheless..

“…damn. It's like that then? Fair enough..”

turning in his seat, Ace shifted and focused his attention directly on you. It was hard to maintain eye contact because how could he face you after such a betrayal? Even so, this was his bed he made and it was time to lie in it.

“The truth is...I was afraid. One day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t what you thought I was. That I was broken and I didn’t have my shit together. It’s like no matter what I did in my life, I found a way to fuck it up. Make a mess of things..I’m not like you, (y/n). Honestly, what could you possibly see in me? Don’t you want someone who’s your equal?”

by this time, tears were beginning to swell in his eyes as well. The more he spoke, he realized that these feelings of insecurity were always within him. You promised yourself that you were just going to give him a piece of your mind, storm out and never have to see him again. But it was never that easy with this man.

you knew he was genuine and not just trying to victimize himself. He honestly felt like you could do so much better. But he also knew by the look in your eyes that you were not going to let him get away so easily.. You didn’t hate him, hell, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fully get angry with him for what he did. Looking down, Ace would begin to chuckle; a weird coping mechanism for him in times of stress and uttered the last words you wanted to hear.

“And after all this time, all the bullshit I put you through..you still love me, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’re still sitting here..the only reason you didn’t hang up. When you’re done with something, you never give it a second thought.” sitting cross armed, you’d begin to laugh. Not at his hurt but at the fact that for the first time in almost five years of knowing him, you saw him show genuine, raw emotion. You saw him finally let down his guard and be himself…as sad as it was, it was a bit cathartic.

“Wow…so you are capable of communicating your feelings and there isn’t a ten foot wall of bullshit in that head of yours.” Poking the side of his temple playfully..

“Of course I love you. I never stopped, you inconsiderate jackass. What did I ever do to you? That’s all I could ask myself. You keep talking about me deserving better and all of this bullshit..who gave you the right to decide what I wanted and what I deserve? Shouldn’t I have a say too? You left because it was easy, Ace. Instead of working through it with me, you ran because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re weak. That’s not how relationships work..we’re supposed to see each other at our worst, our best..good and bad days. If you feel insecure about anything, you did it to yourself because you were perfect to me and you know damn well I never made you feel anything less than.”

those words stung like none other. And honestly, no matter what he said, there wasn’t a good enough excuse for any of his behavior. You said it best..he was selfish, immature and didn’t think clearly. Ace had a knack for marching to the beat of his own drum and damn the consequences.

“..you’re right, (y/n). It’s my fault..and I can’t take any of it back…” suddenly, you’d feel his hand clutch the top of your own, intertwining your fingers as he stared you in the eye.

“..but I can try to fix it. Fix us..let me make this right. Please…if you’re happier with someone else, then there’s nothing I can do. But—“ In that moment, (y/n) had finally heard all that you could take. Reaching over the console, you’d clutch his face in your palm and shove your lips together. The sensation of that warm kiss sent a surge throughout your body..a spark you hadn’t felt since the day he left.

“Are you done? God, I swear you talk too damn much.” Prompting him to laugh as you held the side of his face. He was a little taken aback by your sudden dominance. Not knowing you to ever take control like this but he wasn’t mad about it one bit..

“..why’d you kiss me? What about your boyfriend?” A question as disrespectful as it was rhetorical.

“You’re as dumb as you are cute sometimes. You think I came all the way out here at three am to chit chat? Nut uh, you owe me..also, you’re a greedy bastard. No way you’re letting me go back in that apartment unless it’s with you." By this time, your hands were roaming his chest and your faces were only inches apart. His lips would curl into a sheepish grin before his palm snaked to the back of your neck, tugging your head towards him.

“..what can I say, babe? I’m just too damn stubborn..I always have to get my way.” And with that, you’d find your tongues joined together again. Twirling around one another with heavy whimpers mixed in. Suddenly, you’d find yourself crawling into the driver's seat and onto his lap. Just as you’d suspected, he’d worn those gray sweats you’d always loved to see him in and a black tank top to display his muscles, along with a newly acquired tattoo.

This man was not slick at all! Even so, his little tactic worked because all those memories of late nights and early mornings with him came rushing back. When you’d find yourself sneaking out on lunch breaks at work just to come eat his dick up or when he’d show up at your apartment around midnight because he’d work the closing shift again. With a bottle of wine and the intention of putting you through the mattress in every position after two glasses got you turned on. It was always exciting and spontaneous with Ace, something your ‘new man’ lacked. Slowly winding in his lap as you continued to make out, (y/n) caressed his torso..missing the familiar touch of his skin, taking in the scent of his cologne and immersing yourself in him. He’d run his thumbs across your throat, gently squeezing as you took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful..I missed you.” “Yeah? You missed me, baby?” Teasing him as you bounced your ass against his crotch, subtly twerking on his visible bulge. Caressing your gentle fingertips across his freshly shaven jawline. You could feel him growing harder underneath him and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Even kissing on his neck and licking on his jugular. “Mmmm..fuck. Pull that dress up and I’ll show you just how much.” Without a single bit of hesitation, you lifted the hem and allowed your bare cheeks and slit to graze him. Shuffling around underneath you, Ace slid his thumbs into the sides of those sweats, letting them pool around his waist. Meanwhile, he couldn’t stop marking your neck and lips with tender kisses..or apologizing for how stupid he was! Being here with you again brought back a flood of memories and emotions..ones that he never wanted to lose again. He needed this to be real once more. However, you weren’t much for talking right now..if he wanted to win his girl back, all you needed were actions.

“Why are you still talking? Just fuck the shit out of me before I grow a conscience and change my mind.” Your command being heard loud and clear; forcing him to grip your waist and balance you above that aching tip. Swollen red and seeping with precum, he was eager for you and that warm cunt was welcoming him in.

“Yes ma’am..whatever you say.” Following up his remark with a toothy smirk so you knew he was going to deliver and give you exactly what you were looking for. (Y/N) reclined against the steering wheel for a moment as he slowly infiltrated that entrance. That core drooling as he made home inside of you. Both of your heads fell backwards in a haze of pleasure…enjoying the all too familiar feeling of being one!

“Shiiit..why are so fucking tight? Oh my gosh..” those breathy moans and whines escaped his mouth the second he began thrusting. Not even two pumps in and he was trying to maintain his composure. With you though, he failed pretty quick. Reacclimating to the warmth that was your insides was going to be a challenge. Even so, he’d continue to guide you up and down on his shaft, letting that thick cock stretch open those wet folds.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this dick…just like that..” Meanwhile, (y/n)’s mouth fell ajar, overstimulated by the sensation already. You’d paw at his chest, holding onto him as he maneuvered you to his liking. Using your body like that of a flesh light. “’s so good. Missed this big fucking dick.” Hearing those words elicited another chuckle from Ace, prompting him to cradle the back of your neck in a dominant manner, pulling you close. “Yeah? Your little boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Questioning through clenched teeth as he continued guiding your lower half..

those soft insides wrapping around him with each stroke. You’d then feel the tight clutch of his hand on the back of your head, tugging at those freshly styled wefts coursing down your back..he was aware of the minute fortune you spent each month to upkeep your beauty. From the thousand dollar hair appointments, nail salon visits and waxes..even so, he didn’t give a damn! Turning his gorgeous girl into a sloppy slut was his favorite pastime. A toothy grin on his face, watching your swollen tits bounce and drool seep from the corners of your mouth, along with the loud moans following suit.

“..I’ll take that as a no. You’re squeezing me like you haven’t come in ages, babe.” Those taunts harbored more truth than you’d care to admit. As shameful as it was to be cheating, you’d never be happy with someone who couldn’t give you a nut! Hypocritical as it was abhorrent, you too would never be satisfied until you got what you desired. And that desire was the guy slamming balls deep up inside of you at the moment. Pounding that sensitive little core..letting that fat mushroom tip split you open and begging for that sweet cunt to siphon him for every last drop of cum he had. “You’re fucking dripping..you must’ve needed this bad. Goddamn..” referring to the creamy release you had drizzling his cock. Making a mess of his lap. “Y—yeah..you’re the only one who can make me cream like this.” Cock drunk and giggling as he catapulted you up and down. The vehicle began to sway due to the heavy activity taking place and the windows also began to fog up as a result. That’s when you’d feel his palms colliding with your asscheeks, egging on your bouncing. It was in the midst of those heavy handed smacks that he’d begin pleading his remorse. Telling you how sorry he was for how he mistreated you. As cute as it was, you weren’t interested in any half assed apologies, but rather….

”…if you’re really sorry, you’ll nut in me. This is your pussy so act like it..” Uttering those words with a wide smile on your face whilst meeting his strokes with heavy bounces..nearly made Ace convulse. He loved when you spoke to him in such a domineering manner. You’d feel a sudden twitch inside of you and his hands guiding you as you slammed down on that cock. Your cheeks grazing the outer rim of the steering wheel..both of you so close to your peak that you’d claw into one another’s skin.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva..begging the other to get you there and revealing all of your deepest confessions for one another..including the fact that he wanted you to be his forever and that you weren’t leaving this parking lot without him. You’d clearly chosen who you wanted to be with.

“…damn right it’s my pussy, princess. I don’t care who you bring home. You belong to me and I belong to you..no one else can come between that. Ever again.”

not to mention..you were begging for his cum yet again. You’d often divulge in the throes of pre-climatic bliss that you wanted to have his kid..be so full of his seed that there was no way you weren’t pregnant and Ace certainly had no objections to it. Maybe it was the sensation of being cream pied or the fact that you really wanted a family with him. Either way, he constantly fantasized about seeing you full with his seed; how adorable you’d look with a bump and he just couldn’t maintain his composure.

“Yes..please come in me. Want your baby—“ having to laugh again at how cute and pathetic you were becoming. But alas, there was no room for shame right now. You’d plead with your last breath to feel that womb stuffed again.

“That right, gorgeous? Does my pretty girl want me to get her pregnant?..” “Yes, nut in this fucking pussy, daddy. Please!” certainly a far cry from the headstrong woman who was yelling at him before. Now, you were reduced to a desperate little cumslut, pleading to be bred. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. After experiencing your second orgasm in close succession, Ace would pin you down and force his cock up into you, going as fast as he could muster. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna take every drop. You’re going to have my baby and I’m going to take such good care of you both. Gonna marry you—be a better man this time around..” That soft flesh ricocheting as a result..loud grunts and curse words filling the car as he prepared to do the same to you.

“M fucking coming, babe! Hold still—shit!—“ in that moment, that orgasm would rip through his body and just as you requested, all of his warm seed coursed through your insides and didn’t stop for a solid two minutes..having not had a proper orgasm since you guys split up. He was still twitching inside of you, holding you to his chest as you both cried from how amazing it felt. Tears on both of your faces as a result of ecstasy.

“Damn, I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed that.” Teasing him amidst your cute giggles. Leaning up, (y/n) kissed the tip of his nose and caressed his cheek..unable to believe that you were here with him again. He’d gently stroke the side of your face as well..glaring at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you that again. Feels so good.” And you shared his sentiment. He was the only one it ever felt genuine from and damn sure, the only guy you meant it to. Any guilt or shame had long since absolved and you knew this was exactly where you should’ve been. ”I love you too, Ace. I’m so glad you showed up.” It was going to be a long day, as you had some explaining to do. But for now..

“Shit..he’s calling me.”

“Ignore it..let me hold you a little bit longer, okay?”

you wanted to remain in this moment for as long as possible. After all, this is where you were happiest and there was no one who’d give you the high that he could.

[tellafairy]

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ everything you've been wondering about LOA + information about my journey ♡

so if you've been following my page for a while then you know i've changed the entirety of my life simply using loa. in this post, i want to go over things i've spoke about on here, loa terminology, how i manifest, what i've manifested, and everything else i want you to know. i ask that you read this before ever asking me a question, because it is likely i have answered it here and will not respond to your question if it's already been answered. i will seperate this into sections so it's easier to read. you are entitled to disagree with my pov on things but please keep your responses kind and respectful. with that being said ; i hope this helps ♡

— PART 1 : what have i manifested?

My exact desired girlfriend

University acceptance

Revision of bad grades

University financial aid / grants

My desired face and features; such as bigger eyes, a mole under my eye, smaller nose, different facial structure, facial symmetry, etc.

A change in my weight distribution

Weightloss without effort

Altering my speaking & singing voice

Free food & drinks

Being gifted desired items often

Multiple old friends reaching out

People who did me dirty apologizing & asking for forgiveness

Health and safety for my family, friends and pets

Financial stability for myself, a close friend and my mother

Becoming friends with multiple people i saw on netflix, youtube, or tiktok

Multiple job opportunities

Progression in my music career + music based job offers

Natural dental repair

Dual citizenship

Longer hair + different curl pattern

Getting invited out 24/7 and constantly having people who want to hang out with me

PR packages from my favourite brands

Viral videos / posts

p.s this is absolutely not everything, just the primary things i want to mention.

— PART 2: HOW?

the simple answer is affirmations. the long answer, is also affirmations.

no matter what method you use, you're always going to be affirming somehow. saturation tends to be my choice of affirming and i used it quite often when manifesting things that seemed "major" as it always helps me remind myself that nothing is truly out of reach or to big to manifest, even if it seems that way at first. the type of affirmations i use tended to switch based on what felt most natural to me in the moment. of course there were some affirmations that came up again and again for certain desires, but overall when affirming — especially during saturation sessions, i honestly find it fun to just go on and on about your desire in a way where you're speaking like you already have it. because you do, you're simply just reminding yourself and overpowering the thoughts that state otherwise. i believe your affirmations should always be what feels best to you. in short; choose whatever affirmations you want, because it doesn't matter really. as long as your affirmation aligns with your desire.

put it this way; if i want a tesla for my birthday which affirmation should i use? "i already have a tesla" or "i got a tesla for my birthday!" ?? the answer is either one! both align with the desire (a tesla) and you already know in the back of your head when you want it (for your birthday) so it really doesn't matter how the affirmation is formatted because either way you're telling yourself it's already yours. there isn't a cheat code of affirmations that are going to make your desires yours. whatever you believe works, works. sure — some affirmations may feel more powerful. but the truth is, you give them power. you choose what works and what doesn't. that is how my manifestations are mine. i simply decided that whatever affirmations i said in the moment, worked. and filling my mind with these affirmations only made me believe it even more.

here is a specific post i made about grade revision & uni acceptance for another in depth and real life example; grade revision

— PART 3: SPECIFIC TERMS

there are alot of terms within the loa community that i tend to see people get confused by or not fully understand. so i want to go a bit in depth about the terms and how they are used within loa.

3D VS 4D: opinions on this always vary, in some way but the general understanding tends to be the same. the 3D is your outer world while your 4D is your inner world aka your imagination. the 3D is a mirror of the 4D with persistence. the 4D is truly the only thing that matters as anything within the 3D can change or occur according to your persistence in tbe 4D. still confused? see the post i've linked, it explains a bit more in a way i think most will be able to understand. https://www.tumblr.com/cutiescute/694055506946424832/3d-4d-and-what-happens-when-you-manifest

Revision : revision really is just another form of loa but it's usually separated when spoken about, based on the grounds that it proposes the idea of manifesting a change in a specific event or situation that has already occurred in the 3d. for example, i used revision for my grades. despite already being showed my "bad grades" by my guidence counsiler, i altered the memory of my grades being bad and erased whatever ideas my counsiler tried to put into my head — souly by assuming and repeating that my grades were perfectly fine. another example i can give you is one i've seen a lot recently but also ive used myself — revision for pets. basically, in my own experience, when my dog got sick the vet had told me she would die very soon and there wasn't necessarily any beneficial treatment we could give her. all i did, was assume the opposite and repeat to myself affirmations that firmed the belief that my dog was perfectly fine. this reflected the idea that the vet had told me that my dog was sick — rather, that the vet told me my dog was perfectly healthy and would live a long healthy life. to conclude, this all happened last year and my dog is very much still alive and healthy to this day. revision isn't that complicated and it is just another form of loa.

saturation: saturation is another popular loa method. the name kind of speaks for itself, it's basically where you spend time saturating yourself in the knowing of your desires, reminding yourself they're yours. you can do this multiple ways — affirming, scripting, visualizing, etc. do whatever feels best for you.

persisting: persisting by definition means maintaining a unwavering belief in your desired outcome regardless of external circumstances or delays. to expand, despite the circumstances in your physical reality or the fact you may start to think your desire is "taking to long" or "not here yet". this tends to be the hardest part for some people as they find trouble in not letting circumstances define your entire reality and sometimes let the thoughts of their desire taking to long, not coming or not being able to manifest due to circumstances, overpower the actual desire. this is why some choose to manifest a better self concept and utilize mental discipline to get their thoughts in check and prevent wavering. this usually helps them fully come to terms and comprehend the fact that they are the creator of their reality and absolutely limitless. Persistence is key and your outer reality will always reflect whatever desires your inner reality persists in. the more you persist in the belief that your desired is already fulfilled the more it is solidifies! persisting is truly the only thing you need when manifesting, methods like the void state, saturation and stats do give people a piece of mind, help alter their thoughts and feelings revolving around manifestation — but throughout everhthing persisting is the number one thing that makes loa, loa.

SATS: sats is another manifestation method, please read my in depth explanation if you'd like to learn more! here https://www.tumblr.com/tellafairy/761668338100338688/get-anything-you-desire-overnight-what-is-sats

the void state: the void state is a state of pure consciousness where there is no thoughts, emotions, or physical sense — only awareness. the void state in another way for instant manifestation and most like to use it when manifesting multiple things at once or when shifting their self concept. but it is not necessary what so ever considering manifestation is also instant without the void state. the void state can be entered through affirmations, relaxation techniques such as meditation and of course — persistence.

— PART 4: COMMON QUESTIONS + CONCERNS

"can i manifest __"

yes, you are limitless. it does not matter what other people have manifested or what others think it "impossible" you create your reality. please be your own proof. don't worry about whether there are sucess stories that reflect your desires, you should be the sucess story.

"i want to manifest someone but they are a celebrity or already in a relationship, what if someone else is manifesting my desires person?"

celebrities are people to, nobody has free will in your reality and a status doesn't matter. you can meet people in the most random way possible, that includes celebrities. this also applies for 3p. (3p = 3rd person, anyone outside of you and your SP). 3p doesn't matter nor exist in your desired relationship, so why worry? you don't need to take action or try and do anything to remove 3p, all you need is the understanding that 3p does not place any limits on you and your sp's relationship. lastly — your reality is your reality and another persons is another persons. if you manifest someone, then they're yours and you won't see them with another person. and vice versa. it may be hard to understand, but reality is limitless and your reality is your reality, so don't worry about others manifestations.

"is it wrong to manifest and shift realities? can i do both? how or why is it possible to do both?"

please see this post: https://www.tumblr.com/tellafairy/768871751262306305/why-do-so-many-manifesters-shift-to-different

"is it wrong to manifest __"

morals are different for everyone. if you feel something is wrong to manifest, that is your pov and shouldn't define others realities. if you feel guilty about manifesting something, think of an alternative solution. for example, if you dislike someone but feel guilty about manifesting them out of your reality, an alternative solution may be manifesting a change in their personality. always remember to stick to your own views and what will make you truly happy.

"how will my manifestation happen?"

you can either decide or just let it happen. the how doesn't necessarily matter unless you want it to matter. you can manifest something happening in a specific way or just manifest that something and let it happen however it happens. i've gotten things in absolutely random ways and i've gotten things exactly how i've imagined getting them. it's your decision, just know in the end it is yours and the way it plays out doesn't change that.

"i'm worried i'm running out of time to get my desires"

your desires are already yours. time doesn't matter when manifestation is instant. age revision (revising the age you are or the year you were born) may also be a good tool for those of you who worry about time.

"i can't stop obsessing over my desires? is it bad?"

obsessing over your desires isn't necessarily bad. a while ago i read a quote that stated "you want it so bad, because future you already has it", and i think that's the best way to put things. it's normal to feel an overwhelming sensation when thinking about your desires, it's normal to be obsessed with the idea of them... because they're already yours — you just need to understand that. obsession doesnt have to be negative. you can easily make your obsession positive. for example; when i first decided i wanted a change in my appearance, my obsession with it was somewhat negative. i kept telling myself; "these subliminals aren't working!!" "ugh nothings changed". i was very obsessed with the idea of my appearance becoming how i desired but not actually changing - therefore, my outer world reflected these constant thoughts. but overtime, i learned how to change my obsession into something more positive. instead of being obsessed with the idea of my appearance changing, i became obsessed with the end results. my thoughts changed from the ones i stated above, to things like "i am so in love with my appearance" and "wow my eyes look even bigger today than they did yesterday... they just get bigger every day" even if i occasionally thought nothing actually changed, i quickly remembered to switch back to the positives and remind myself it has changed no matter what. i didn't completely ignore my thoughts, or erase the obsession with my desires. instead, i simply switched from being obsessed with the idea - to being obsessed with the results.

"do subliminals work? how should i listen to them"

subliminals, like any other manifestation method, work if you believe they work. you can listen to them over night, while working or doing homework, while working out... literally however you want!

"how do i shift realities?" "what is reality shifting?"

read this

"why aren't there any photo proofs of physical manifestations lile appearance?" 

there are, here

"did i manifest being abused? did i manifest my trauma?" no. read this.

still having doubts or confused? read this: here

you don't need to fake sucess in the 3d in order to live in the end. read this here

— PART 5: END MESSAGE

Despite how long this is, i want you to know manifesting really isn't complicated. some of you may read this and leave with the exact same information you came in with — and if that's the case, i am begging you to GET OFF TUMBLR in the nicest way possible. you know everything and there's nothing else you need. just apply, and it will occur. stop overcomplicating things for yourself, it seems simple because it is simple. i want you to read this and know that no matter what your circumstances are, you have the power to change anything and everything and create anything and everything you want. i have said this countless times on here but my past before loa was horrible and i often used shifting as an escape from the reality i so desperately held onto. but with only loa, without any effort what so ever outside of my mind, i changed the entire path of my life and gained the beautiful simple life i didn't want to shift for. please never give up on yourself or loa. you are the creator, take notice of your power, understand it and utilize it.

p.s again : i apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes ♡

[veltana]

The winter rebound

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~3,6k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Avengers!Bucky, alcohol consumption, fluff, pwp, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, safe sex, dirty talk.

✦ Summary: You go with your friend to Stark's holiday party

✦ Note: This was the first thing I wrote and published when I got back into the marvel fandom, so it's a super self-indulgent piece! But I hope you like it anyway! As always, please comment and/or reblog! Asks are always welcome!

Masterlist | AO3

It was Friday. You watched yourself in the mirror and told yourself that you would have fun tonight. Forget about your ex of five years who broke off your engagement a month before the holidays, whom you had spent the last three weeks crying over.

Tonight you were accompanying your best friend to the annual Stark holiday party, and you would not think about him once during the night, while you danced and drank yourself into a stupor.

Standing outside the huge compound made you anxious. Maybe it was too soon to meet the real world without him. No! Don’t think about that asshole! You cut yourself off before your thoughts started to spiral.

“Come on!” your friend Lily laughed. Her genuine smile was contagious and you returned it, squaring your shoulders and forcing every dumb thought down before you took her arm as the two of you made your way down the gold and red carpet. At the end, two large glass doors were opened by life-sized mechanical nutcrackers.

“I sure hope those don’t spring to life and ruin this party too,” you mumbled. Lily giggled, “Don’t worry, I helped with the software, unless Mr. Stark went a completely different direction there should be no worries.” “So there is a possibility,” you joked as the doors closed behind you.

If she answered you didn’t hear because you were too busy taking in the amazing winter-themed party. The waiters were also dressed as nutcrackers and there were dancers in amazing outfits performing all over the floor. Music played in the background and some were moving to the beat while others stood around and talked.

Honestly, you had expected more people, like at least two hundred but there were only about fifty in the huge hall. Not only the regular people, like your friend, who helped with software, hardware, management, and the day-to-day running's of the compound, but it was impossible not to notice the heroes also in attendance.

Not all of them were there, no sign of Thor or Loki, or the Guardians, but this was your first time so close to any hero ever, you would take what you could get.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to everyone,” Lily said and started to pull you along while you gazed at the shifting decorations adorning the walls, obvious to the blue eyes that followed you with interest from the bar.

Too many names spun through your brain, accompanied by the alcohol your friend had been plying you with.

Everyone you had met so far had been incredibly nice and friendly and hadn’t minded when you asked all the dumb questions about working at such a place.

Finally, it came down to the big event, meeting Mr. Stark and maybe the rest of the Avengers currently there.

Lily stepped up to her boss and greeted him and Pepper Potts like they were friends rather than her superiors and then introduced you. Not a lot of people got to shake hands with Iron Man and Pepper Potts but now you had, and it was totally normal.

“Interesting hair color,” Tony Stark pointed out. “Is it meant to look like that?” It was such an old man thing to say you could only laugh as Pepper elbowed him in the ribs. “I am sorry,” Pepper apologized but you waved it off.

“He is paying for everything I drink, so if he wants to make fun of my hair, it’s fine.” Pepper gave you a relieved look and was about to say something else when a voice interrupted.

“It looks like the Aurora Borealis.”

Bucky Barnes had appeared out of nowhere, like the skilled assassin he had been trained to be. It was like he had materialized out of thin air at your side and you jumped when he spoke.

Before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, slapping your palm against his hard chest, and said “For fuck’s sake,” while your other hand rested over the heart trying to work its way out of your chest.

Then you realized what you’d done and pulled back your hand quickly, covering your mouth. Bucky stared back at you, mouth slightly open, while Lily and Tony both cackled in amusement. “That’s what you get Barnes,” your friend pointed out.

With a crooked smile, Bucky just said, “How about I buy you a drink to make up for it?” and held out his arm. “As long as it’s crazy expensive since the old man made fun of my hair,” you shot over your shoulder at Tony as you took the offered arm.

Your friend winked at you before she returned to her conversation with Natasha Romanoff, whom you would just have to say hello to some other time.

Bucky led you the short way to the bar and you eased your way on to the chair, making sure not to get tangled in your long dress, as Bucky leaned over the bar and asked for the most expensive champagne they had.

“I’m Bucky,” he said. “I know,” you smiled at him before introducing yourself too.

In no time there were two flutes in front of you, he offered you one, saying cheers before you took the first sip. The unabashed moan that left you wasn’t meant to be sexual but Bucky stopped his glass halfway to his lips to just stare at you. It cracked you up, “Sorry,” you said, “I’ve never tasted champagne this good before.” He also took a sip, his eyes widening a little, and when he’d swallowed all he said was, “Wow.” “I could get used to this,” you took another mouth and closed your eyes.

When you opened them again you found him looking at you and it made a shiver go down your spine. For the first time in a long time, you felt desire pool in your lower belly. “Will this make up for Stark’s comment?” he asked. “It will absolutely!” you promised. “I think your hair looks great and I’m like twice his age so…” he trailed off.

“My friend, Lily, has told me about these crazy old super soldiers, but you look spry for your age,” you winked at him. “You can only imagine,” he flirted back, and your cheeks heated. You had forgotten about this, about the utter intoxication of flirting with a man and having it returned to you.

After several weeks of drought, your body suddenly knew what arousal was again and flooded you with it, making your heart beat twice as fast and your skin flush. “Oh, you want me to think of everything you can do?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “Anything you want, doll,” he leaned forward, “But I’m sure your imagination won’t hold a candle to the real thing.” “Are you going to show me?” “If you want to,” he smirked and you felt yourself grow wetter by the second.

You leaned in too, unable to resist him and not wanting to either. You wanted to get lost in him for as long as he would have you. He finished off the rest of his champagne like it was a shot of liquor.

“Come on, I have just the place,” he smiled, holding out his hand. Not even second-guessing yourself for a moment you finished your glass and let him lead you away.

Bucky took you through a side door, into a corridor that led to the heart of the compound which was now deserted, and finally into a large room with a domed ceiling.

It looked like a cinema almost, except the screen was the whole ceiling, and in the middle of the floor was an enormous sofa-like thing that easily fit several people.

After Bucky pressed something on a side panel the room lit up with the Aurora Borealis.

You let go of his hand, staring with huge eyes at the display. Maybe you had misinterpreted his intentions and they were actually pure, not at all the filthy things you had thought this would end up being.

Never had you been happier to be wrong.

This time when he appeared out of nowhere he didn’t scare you, he gripped your waist with the vibranium arm and spun you into his chest, before using his other hand to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“I’m going to kiss you, tell me if I should stop,” he breathed. Instead of answering with words you surged up and crushed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him impossibly closer.

It was almost like he expected you to be timid or something because, for a few seconds, he didn’t move, but then he rushed into action, moving his lips and kissing you like a man starved.

Desire flooded you, making every one of his touches feel like fire even through the fabric of your dress. He moved you backward until your knees hit the oversized sofa, and you laid down.

Bucky’s face was burning with desire as he looked down on you, before he could move or say anything you grabbed your skirt and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist so that you were able to spread your legs without restraint.

The growl erupting from his chest made you smile and you crooked your finger toward him. He knelt between your legs, grabbing your thighs to spread them even more before he leaned down over you to capture your lips again.

The action made the hard cock in his jeans brush against your heated core, making you moan into his mouth.

He pulled back, eyes wild, “Your sounds make me fucking crazy.” he groaned, moving his hands down your naked legs, caressing them and gripping them, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be rough or gentle.

“Hope so,” you smiled and started to tug at his suit jacket, needing to see his body. He obliged by sitting back and ridding his upper body of clothing. As soon as you could your hands splayed out across the expanse of his naked torso, feeling the hard muscles under the soft skin.

Your eyes grazed over the scars on his left shoulder but didn’t pay it any mind. The man had trauma, that was no secret, but tonight you didn’t need to delve into that. Instead, you sat up, kissing the skin you could reach and licking at his nipple, making him moan most deliciously.

He reached around you to unzip your dress and you whined when you had to move away from him to let him pull it off you. Now you were almost completely naked with the super soldier, except for the thong you wore that did little to hide anything from him, and your heels.

Without another word, he stood up and unbuttoned his pants, peeling them off and kicking off his shoes in the process, before he was back over you. Now it was his turn to taste your skin and when he closed his mouth around a nipple, using his vibranium hand to pinch the other, you released a high-pitched mewl you never heard from yourself before.

That only spurred him on, alternating between sucking and licking at you, squeezing or pinching your sensitive buds. The pleasure was too much, like you would implode or maybe even come from just him playing with your tits. You fisted the fabric under you, pushing your chest even more into him as moans and words tumbled from your lips.

“Bucky, please!” you tried forming a coherent sentence but failed. “What do you need, doll?” he asked, lips shiny with his spit as he looked up at you. “Touch me, make me come, please Bucky,” you didn’t want to wait another second for the pleasure you had missed for a lot longer than the weeks since your break up. This temporary connection with a stranger was already better than what you had experienced over several years.

“Can I taste you?” his voice was husky, filled with restrained want. “Yes!” you smiled and raised yourself on your elbows.

You watched as he kissed his way down your form, pulling off your thong and throwing it away. He grabbed your thighs and spread them wide before letting the thumb of his vibranium hand slowly drag up, separating your folds, groaning, almost whispering “Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” and leaning in to carefully lick up your spread lips. You fell back, staring up at the beautiful display as Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, one of the Avengers, ate you out with perfection.

Every move he made sent sparks through your entire body and pulled cries from you. Your hands tangled in his hair, not pulling or pushing, just needing to anchor yourself on something. Nothing would hold a candle to this for the rest of your life you suspected, because even though you had just met, Bucky Barnes took his sweet time, caressing his hands up and down your sides, down your legs, and back up again, using his tongue and lips to make your body blaze.

Your crescendo built steadily, as did your voice, the closer you got the more you pleaded and begged, even though he was doing exactly what you wanted him to. When two fingers on his right hand breached you with no problem your back bowed, the pleasure rushing through you, and when he crooked them and moved them inside you, it was everything the dam needed to break and the coil inside you snapped.

You screamed his name as the orgasm hit you like a freight train. What was even better was that he worked you through it, coaxing every last drop of pleasure out of you before you had to instead beg him to stop.

"Too much," you whimpered when the uttermost tip of his tongue gently floated across your clit. "No, darling, not enough. A man could get addicted to hearing you scream his name."

You whimpered again, your body rocking with overstimulation at every pass of his tongue. It was wonderful to hear him say those things but you needed more.

"Please tell me you have a condom so you can fuck me," you groaned and that made him stop, staring at you from between your legs before kissing up the side of your thigh to sit back on his heels before he got up. He freed himself from his underwear before he bent down to grab his pants and pulled a condom from a pocket and that gave you a chance to admire him. His cock was hard, glistening, and a lot bigger than what you were previously used to, but that only sparked more excitement in your lower stomach.

"Hands and knees, baby," he smiled and made a twirling motion with his fingers. You wasted no time rolling over, and getting into position. His flesh hand slapped your ass playfully when he knelt behind you and when you moaned he chuckled. "You like that huh?" he asked as the tip of his cock started to press into you.

He was big, you whined and whimpered with every inch he pressed into you. Maybe why he took his time eating you, because he needed you to be as aroused as possible for it to fit. You clawed at the fabric, feeling like you were having an out-of-body experience with how he filled you.

"So good, taking it all," he praised when his hips were finally flush with your ass. Trying to answer him with words was out of the question, instead, you rocked your body, feeling his cock press against everything inside you, giving you the most delicious sensation you probably ever felt.

His hand landed on your ass again and that spurred you on, starting to move a bit faster. "Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock," he sounded a little breathless and you wished you could see him. "Do you like it, darling? Do you like my cock filling you to the brim?"

Fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him you had not expected. He grabbed your hips and helped you along, starting to fuck you deep and hard, pulling almost all the way out before shoving back in again.

With every move, you cried out in sheer ecstasy. Bucky kept on telling you how good you sounded, he didn't mind at all that you were loud.

The pace was hard but not hurried, he seemed to like taking his time, not rushing through the action just to get to the finish line. But it was driving you mad, it felt like you were at the precipice constantly, ready to tip over but needing something more to do it.

Then he grabbed you around the waist and pulled you up until you were flush against his chest, his pace never stopping. "Hi, sweet thing, enjoying yourself?" he wasn't even winded and you were a panting, whimpering mess, feeling like you were about to lose it.

"Yes, Bucky, please touch me, make me come again." He kissed your shoulder, "My pleasure," was his answer and his left hand descended on your aching clit.

A shudder and a scream passed through you when he started to rub small circles over it. Suddenly you were so close to the edge you could almost taste it, and Bucky knew it too.

"That's right, come on my cock, doll. Can you do that for me? Be good and come for me?" he said between kissing up your neck, moving the arm around your waist up to grab your jaw, and turning your head to the side. The kiss was sloppy but delicious, and with the aid of his fingers and so full of his cock the orgasm took you by full force, making you shake in his grip.

He released your mouth and let the sounds you made fill up the room, pressing his mouth to the side of your head and telling you over and over again how fucking good you felt coming around him.

If he hadn’t held you up, you would have collapsed no doubt, but Bucky had no problem keeping you up as he found his own release, pressing his forehead against your neck and mumbling obscenities, his hips stuttering against your ass.

Now he was breathing heavier, holding you tight against him with both arms, letting his fingers draw random patterns on your skin.

You were in a post-orgasmic haze, only existing in that moment with no past or future, only his warm body, and a sated need. "Gonna need to let you go now, darling," he said in a low voice "Lay down." His arms loosened around you and you braced yourself with your arms and eased yourself down on your side.

Bucky got up, probably to dispose of the condom, before laying down behind you. You hadn't expected him to want to cuddle, but he draped his arm across your side, pulling you flush against him.

"You okay?" he asked in a whisper. "Fan-fucking-tastic," you answered with a small laugh and felt a million times lighter all of a sudden.

After a few minutes of laying there, you felt like you'd been gone from the party long enough, but judging by Bucky’s heavy breathing, he had fallen asleep behind you.

He didn't wake as you gathered your things. When you found the thong, you looked at it, looked over at his gorgeous form laying there, and giggled as you found his pants and stuffed the thong down his pocket.

With the help of some items in your clutch, you patched up your make-up and fixed your hair before slipping out and closing the door behind you.

It was a small miracle that you could find your way back to the party but you did and immediately went to the bar for a drink.

Lily found you minutes later and she just raised an eyebrow, you shrugged and tilted your glass towards hers, clinking them together, and then you both burst out laughing.

*

Monday rolled around and it was hard to work because you kept getting lost in the memories of Friday night.

His eyes, his scent, his voice as he said those things to you. You squeezed your legs together and stifled a low moan.

Suddenly your phone chimed and pulled you back into the real world. A text from Lily.

[So, Bucky Barnes just came by and asked for your number. I gave it, of course, just so you know!] [Okay? Did he say why he needed it?] [Apparently, you left something(????) here on Friday and he wanted to return it.] [Hmm, okay, thanks!] [What did you leave?!?!?!?] [Don't be so nosey, go back to work!]

Your stomach did a flip when the next message was from an unknown number. It had a picture attached, your thong tangled in his fingers, and the text [You left these.] For a second you imagined him using them as he got himself off. You bit your lips as you responded. [Keep them or throw them away, I have more, don't worry.] even added a little wink-emoji.

[I want to return them, personally. Are you free this afternoon?] His response was quick and very to the point.

A wonderful shudder traveled through you at the thought of seeing him again. You had meant for this to be a one-time thing, something to get you back into the world and learn to exist without your ex but there wasn't any harm in seeing where this could go, and hopefully, you would have a lot more amazing sex on top of it.

[Sure, I get off at five.]

[froggiewrites]

HAII, I rlly love your writing style and the way you portray the characters! I was wondering if u could do an Ace x shy (ish) reader except the reader is an extrovert but completely loses all social skills when it comes to Ace and practically avoids him lol (cuz he’s so fineeee oml like how can u talk normally to a fine man like him?) I’m sorry Ik it’s a bit specific but I’ve had this scenario in mind for a while and I was wondering if u could write abt it please 😓😓

This was such a cute request, I had fun with this one 😊 I hope you enjoy it!

Tongue Tied

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've decided you're done embarrassing yourself in front of your Commander, but your attempt to avoid him doesn't work out how you'd hoped. Warnings: Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Ace and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 1.7k

If you make a fool of yourself in front of him again, you might throw yourself off of the ship.

There’s only so many stumbles, so many stuttered words, so many awkward laughs that you can handle. Every time you speak to Ace, you somehow manage to embarrass yourself. You’re done with it. If you can’t get your act together, can’t impress and enchant him how you want to, then it’s better not to speak to him at all.

And so here you are, curled up in a corner of the kitchen, praying to any god that might listen that your Commander doesn’t come looking for a snack.

“You alright down there?” Thatch’s voice is kind, as it always is, but you can hear a bit of a laugh. You’re used to the good natured teasing of the crew, so it doesn’t get under your skin as much as it used to, but you can’t help but bristling a bit.

“I’m fine.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure you are. I just wanted to check. I heard there was an incident earlier–”

“God, don’t remind me.” You had been in the middle of telling a story, complete with very enthusiastic hand gestures, only for Ace to sneak up on you and get clocked straight in the face by a particularly large sweeping motion. He was fine, obviously, as a Logia type, but you had barely managed to squeak out an embarrassed apology before you had sprinted off, nearly tripping down the stairs on your way out. “I’m never going to live that down.”

“It’s not like you hurt anybody. Everyone on the ship has at least one story way more embarrassing than this, I promise you. You remember how many times Ace got thrown overboard when he first got here, don’t you?”

“I don’t think losing a fight to Pops is as embarrassing as accidentally punching a commander in the face because I got too excited.”

“Well at least your thing is cute.”

“Cute? It made me look insane!”

“It made you look clumsy. There’s plenty of clumsy people on this ship, and we love them all the same.” You don’t want to give in, want to sit in the hurt and the shame until it eats you whole, but Thatch’s words are so kind and his words are so gentle you can’t help but let your hold on it slip a bit, your shoulders relaxing just a tad. “I promise you this is going to be nothing but a funny memory someday. Probably someday soon. I’m surprised you’re so shaken by this, honestly. Haven’t you had a lot of moments like this?”

“Where I made myself look like a dumbass in front of a crowd? Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me.” There’s no bite to your words anymore, and you can see the small shimmer of victory in his eyes as he realizes he’s gotten to you.

“But those don’t bother you. Because it isn’t about the crowd, right?”

You sigh. You had a feeling Thatch knew about your little crush, considering how poorly you’ve been hiding it, but he hadn’t said anything before now. You had hoped that no one ever would, and you could keep pretending you weren’t horribly obvious about your feelings. “So you’re going to make me talk about it now?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything, kid. I’m just giving you the chance to. In a safe space. And I promise that not a single word of what you tell me will leave this room.”

You don’t want to. You may be horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed now, but this is a familiar discomfort. A safe sort of pain, dull and easy to deal with. If you talk about it, let your soft parts show, well, who knows what will come after that? Nothing is more terrifying than the unfamiliar, whether it’s joy or disappointment or something in between. At least you know how pining feels, how it sits so snugly in your chest.

But Thatch’s smile is so warm, and his eyes are a little bit pleading, and you’ve never been good at turning away an outstretched hand. “...I just don’t know what it is about him that makes me such a mess.”

“Does he make you nervous?”

“Yes, god, so much. I’m not used to someone making me feel so…small. And jittery. I never know what to say, and even when I do the words come out wrong. It makes me feel so stupid and silly, like I’m a dumb kid again while he’s so…everything. I hate it. I hate feeling so out of control and self conscious. I hate that even seeing him makes me completely lose it, and that everyone can tell. I hate how hard it is to avoid him, because even despite all of that I still want to be around him. It sucks. So goddamn bad.”

“It can be hard to feel like you’re not in control of your emotions, that’s true. But caring about someone isn’t a bad thing, really. Especially not caring about someone like Ace. He’s a good guy.” 

“He is a good guy.” It’s part of the reason he had stolen your heart so effortlessly. He was just…kind. He cared about other people, and other people cared about him. When he passed through somewhere, he always left it a little better than he found it, whether he actively tried or not. You can’t help the small, self deprecating laugh that bubbles out of you. “He’d be a hell of a lot easier to get over if he wasn’t. But maybe he’s worth the trouble.”

“Worth making a fool of yourself?”

You smile, a small and fragile little thing. “Yeah.”

It feels good to have gotten off of your chest for a moment, and you let a little of that weight fall off your shoulders.

And then you hear the creak of the floorboards outside, and you and Thatch look up to see Ace, his hat quickly pulled down to cover his face, just barely showing the very red tips of his ears.

“Oh my god.” You can barely squeak out the words, so mortified it almost makes you nauseous.

Thatch has the nerve to laugh. “Well, this isn’t the ideal way to do this, but hey. At least it’s out there. I told you they didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”

What?

Ace’s voice is about an octave higher than you remember it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. I–um–I’m so sorry, I was just coming down to talk to Thatch, and–I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He lets his hat drop a little, his eyes peeking over the brim, allowing you to see his flushed cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more over the pink.

Thatch very casually walks past Ace, shoves him into the kitchen, and walks away, calling over his shoulder to, “Have fun with that!”

He blinks at you.

You blink back.

“I–uh.” You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge what’s happening, your brain frying under the stress of trying to process the situation. “I’m sorry I punched you earlier.”

He chokes out a strained laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it.”

Another beat of silence.

You’ve never seen Ace looking so unsure, shifting on his feet, eyes darting everywhere but you. Normally staying in his presence this long would make you curl in on yourself, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to make an idiot of yourself and failing massively. But something about seeing him look so vulnerable compared to how you usually view him, so human, makes you speak up. “You thought I hated you?”

The red on his cheeks grows deeper. “I–you always run when I try to talk to you. I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable, and I was hoping talking to you more would fix it, but it just made it worse. So I just…make you nervous?”

“Yeah. You do.”

“Why?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “What do you mean why? I thought you just heard why.”

He chuckles nervously. “Right. I–um. I just can’t believe it.”

“Which part?”

He tenses further, but instead of running, he begins to approach, slowly lowering his hat and sitting on the floor across from you. “Any of it, I guess. That you like me. That you think I’m some cool, strong hero, or something.”

“Do you not think you’re cool?”

He hums, closing his eyes in thought. “Yes. But not really.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He sighs. “I know I’m strong, and capable, and I try my best to help people. But…I don’t know. I just don’t think of myself as someone worth getting nervous over.”

“You don’t see why someone might be nervous around an extremely talented and handsome man?”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Shut up. You already knew that.”

“You didn’t actually say it earlier. You just said I was good.”

You roll your eyes. “It was implied!”

“Maybe I’m not good with subtext!”

You both laugh, and you find yourself leaning closer. “I think you know damn well that you’re handsome and cool and all of the other amazing things I implied earlier.”

Before you know it, your noses are brushing together, and you can see every fleck of color in his eyes. “Do I?”

His lips are softer than you expected, his touch gentler than you could have dreamed. You don’t even realize what you’ve done until you’re already pulling away, cheeks flushed and a goofy smile on your face.

Ace looks downright giddy. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that. This is the first time you’ve actually talked to me in months.”

It suddenly strikes you that you’ve finally had a normal conversation with Ace.

And kissed him.

You flush red.

He sighs fondly. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.” He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and is kind enough not to mention how clammy they’ve suddenly gotten. “It might be a little rough doing this if you can’t talk to me. But that’s alright. I think maybe you’re worth the trouble.”

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