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aeniiverse · 1 day ago

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CO-PARENTING A CAT

Synopsis — You and Karina broke up three months ago. It was clean, it was adult, it was entirely her idea. But neither of you thought about what it would mean for Miso your shared, overly dramatic, tuna-obsessed cat who now requires joint custody and emotionally complicated drop-offs.

contains — fluff, angst (maybe a sprinkle), exes to lovers, miso is a bit sassy 😭 (I love her), not much warnings lol

WORD COUNT — 2.5k

A/N — Karina just wants to get back together with you and the cat is a perfect excuse 🙏, have this short fic while I start planning out a longer one

You don’t expect to see her when you open the door in your oversized hoodie and one sock missing, but there she is. Karina. Holding Miso in one arm like a prize she’s just won in a claw machine, lips pursed and eyes wide like she wasn’t planning on seeing you either. The cat meows bored, judgmental, as if she’s the one being inconvenienced and Karina finally speaks.

“She was at my door again,” she says, shifting her weight like the three seconds of silence have started to burn. “Scratched it too. I think she hates me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Miso hates everyone. She’s fair like that.”

“She didn’t hate you when we were dating.”

You pause. And that’s the thing about Karina. She’s always been good at slipping the most dangerous sentences into the most harmless moments. Like she’s tossing grenades in with the groceries. You open the door wider, silently letting her in because fighting in the hallway would mean acknowledging to your neighbors that you’re still, sort of, accidentally, in each other’s lives.

Karina walks in like it’s still her place, like she remembers the way the floorboards creak near the fridge and where you keep the emergency Miso treats even though you moved them last month. Miso jumps out of her arms the second she spots the empty food bowl, trotting off like this whole “shared custody” arrangement isn’t ruining your peace.

“You cut your hair,” Karina says, and you swear her voice softens. You resist the urge to touch it, resist the part of you that wants to explain how post-breakup chaos spiraled into a salon visit where you panicked and said “surprise me.”

“You dyed yours,” you shoot back, because this is what the two of you do now, dodge real things with stupid observations. But then you see the way she smiles, just barely, and you hate how much you missed it. How much you still know it by heart.

Karina crouches to pet Miso, who rolls onto her side and purrs like she didn’t just abandon you two hours ago. “I think she’s manipulating us.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s your cat.”

You don’t say it, but that’s not true. Not anymore. Miso was a joint decision. She was an “our” cat. Back when you were an “our” instead of a weird arrangement involving Google calendar custody swaps and avoiding the third drawer in the kitchen because it still has Karina’s chopsticks in it. You don’t throw them out. You don’t know why.

“So,” Karina says, standing up and dusting her hands like she just did something heroic. “Should we talk about the scratching or…?”

“She’s probably just mad you don’t feed her the good stuff.”

“I literally bought that overpriced tuna mousse she likes.”

“You mean the one you used to say ‘smelled like ocean trash’?”

“I’ve grown. People grow.”

You snort, and you hate that it feels natural. You hate how she still makes you laugh in that stupid, knee-jerk way. Like your ribcage remembers her before your brain can stop it. She notices of course she notices and that smug, infuriating smile spreads across her face like it never left.

“I can leave,” she offers suddenly, even though she hasn’t moved an inch. “I just didn’t want her to get run over again. You remember last time—”

“I remember you crying harder than she did.”

“She had a cone! She looked like a furry UFO!”

You laugh. Really laugh. And for a second, it feels like you’re back in that strange little bubble you two built together. Where nothing made sense but it didn’t have to, because at least you had each other. But then the silence creeps in again, heavier this time. And you both know what’s missing.

Karina clears her throat. “Anyway. I can… take her back tonight if it’s too much.”

You want to say no. You want to say yes. You want to ask her if she still uses your Netflix profile and if she misses falling asleep next to you and if she meant it when she said it was better this way. But instead you say, “She’s already here. Might as well let her stay.”

And maybe you’re not just talking about the cat.

You’re halfway through a sad microwave dinner and a worse true crime documentary when your phone buzzes with a message from Karina: ”Miso’s acting weird. Like… really weird. Is she supposed to do that thing with her eye??” There’s a photo attached. Miso, mid-yawn. Not dead. Not dying. Just annoyed. You blink at the image for a long moment, then reread the text. Twice. Because it’s either an actual emergency or Karina being dramatic, and you’ve known her long enough to know those two things often look exactly the same.

Still, she said “really weird.” And that’s just enough to push you out the door.

When you show up at Karina’s apartment, you’re out of breath and slightly pissed, mostly because you didn’t have time to put on real pants. She opens the door in her stupid soft cardigan and even stupider wide eyes like she’s genuinely surprised you came. Which is insane. She knows you. She knows the second she says “Miso” and “weird” in the same sentence, you’ll drop everything.

“She stopped blinking for like twenty seconds,” Karina says as you step inside, voice hushed like Miso might hear her and take offense. “That’s not normal, right?”

You walk straight past her to the living room where Miso is perched like a smug little gremlin on the back of the couch. She looks up at you, unimpressed. You reach out a hand, and she immediately headbutts it, purring like an engine. Zero signs of trauma. No eye twitching. Just healthy, spoiled indifference.

“She’s fine,” you say, turning around slowly. “You made me run over here because she blinked weird?”

“I panicked!” Karina throws her arms up. “It was either call you or Google it, and I didn’t want to see something that said she had feline eye cancer or some shit.”

You want to be mad. You really do. But she’s doing that thing again wringing her hands in her sleeves, lips pressing into a guilty pout, eyes flickering everywhere but your face. Like she’s trying to look casual and failing spectacularly.

“You could’ve just said you wanted to see me,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

The silence that follows is loud enough to make Miso flatten her ears.

Karina looks at you. Actually looks. And for a moment, it’s like you’re both back at the beginning, before the breakup, before the calendar swaps and cold distance and pretending you don’t miss each other. Her face softens, jaw unclenching just slightly. “I didn’t think I had the right.”

You sit on the edge of the couch, gently scooping Miso into your lap. “You gave her tuna mousse last week. I think you forfeited your moral high ground then.”

Karina groans and flops onto the other end of the couch like she’s been holding her drama in all day. “Okay, but have you seen her face when she eats it?.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s a tiny angel with expensive taste.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Miso stretches luxuriously across your legs, clearly enjoying the attention. Karina glances at the two of you, then hugs a pillow to her chest like it might keep her from saying something stupid. It doesn’t.

“I thought I was over this,” she says quietly.

Your heart stutters. “Over what?”

“This. You. Wanting to make up reasons to text you. Sitting around hoping you’ll ask for a sleepover again just so I can pretend it’s not a big deal.”

You freeze. Because you weren’t expecting that. Not from her. the one who ended it. The one who said she needed space, clarity, whatever. You’d nodded, swallowed your hurt, let her go. But now she’s looking at you like none of it made her feel better. Like maybe walking away wasn’t some strong, mature decision but a mistake wrapped in fear.

“Then why’d you end it?” you ask. The question hangs in the air like smoke thin and choking.

Karina doesn’t answer right away. She picks at the edge of the pillow, lips tugging down. “Because I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t scared all the time. Who didn’t freeze every time things got serious. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You ruined it anyway.”

“I know.”

And that’s the part that stings the most, how calm she is about it. How she says it like she’s been carrying the guilt around every day, tucked inside all the moments where she played it cool and acted like she didn’t miss you. You shift under the weight of Miso and the truth pressing down on your chest.

“I kept your hoodie,” she says suddenly. “The blue one. It still smells like you.”

You blink.

“I didn’t mean to. I just… never gave it back. And now it’s like… this comfort thing? Is that weird? That’s probably weird.”

You stare at her. “Do you sleep in it?”

She shrinks into the pillow. “Sometimes.”

Your laugh is soft, disbelieving. “You fake a cat emergency and sleep in my clothes and you’re wondering if that’s the weird part?”

Karina groans and hides her face. “God, I sound so creepy.”

“No,” you say. “You sound like someone who didn’t want to let go.”

She peeks out, hopeful. “What if I don’t?”

You look down at Miso, who’s blissfully unaware of the emotional mess she’s caused. Then back at Karina, at the flush on her cheeks, the nervous curl of her fingers, the quiet hope in her voice. She doesn’t look like someone who’s moved on. She looks like someone who’s been waiting for a sign.

“You didn’t have to pretend,” you say softly. “You could’ve just said you missed me.”

Karina bites her lip. “I missed you so much it was pathetic.”

You smile. “Good.”

Her eyes widen. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say, nudging Miso gently to the side as you shift closer. “Because I missed you too.”

There’s a pause, charged and soft at the same time. Then she leans in like gravity’s pulling her there, like she’s done waiting. Her voice drops just above a whisper. “So… does this mean I can stop inventing medical emergencies to see you?”

“No promises,” you tease. “But maybe next time, just say hi like a normal person.”

“Normal’s boring,” she murmurs, and then she kisses you.

It’s tentative at first. Careful. Like she’s afraid you might change your mind. But you don’t. You kiss her back, slow and sure, and when she exhales against your mouth like relief, you realize you’re both still in love. Just slightly less afraid now.

Miso meows loudly between you, possibly out of protest. Possibly because she’s no longer the center of attention.

Karina pulls back, grinning. “I think she’s jealous.”

“She’s just mad she can’t fake another crisis now that the truth’s out.”

You both laugh, leaning into each other, the tension finally breaking.

And maybe it took fake emergencies and tuna mousse and an emotionally manipulative cat to get here, but you’re here. Together. Again.

Sort of.

Almost.

Just enough.

You wake up to the sound of purring and something soft against your cheek. For a brief, disoriented second, you think it’s a dream the one of those warm, sugar-fogged ones where everything is right again and Karina’s still yours. But then you blink, and the ceiling isn’t yours, and the blanket smells like Karina’s detergent, and Miso is fully sprawled across your face like the world’s most possessive weighted blanket. You groan, gently shifting her to the side, and that’s when you feel it. Karina’s arm curled loosely around your waist, her breath steady against the back of your neck, like she never let go at all.

You don’t move. You don’t even breathe for a second. Just lie there, frozen in this strange, tender limbo where maybe you’re not exes, maybe you never were, maybe last night was the first step back to something you weren’t brave enough to fight for before.

Then her voice breaks the quiet, sleepy and rough at the edges. “You drool in your sleep.”

You reach back and smack her arm without turning around. “You kissed me last night.”

“Technically, you kissed me back.”

You finally roll over, careful not to disturb the ball of fur between you. Karina’s hair is a disaster, her eyeliner smudged, one cheek creased from the pillow and she still looks stupidly, unfairly pretty. You hate that it makes your heart do cartwheels. You hate that all it took was one dumb night of honesty and tuna mousse to unravel weeks of distance.

“You really missed me?” you ask, quieter this time. Not teasing. Not testing. Just needing.

Karina nods, eyes meeting yours. “I missed you so much I started naming my plants after you. Even the cactus.”

You stare. “Why the cactus?”

“Because it’s prickly and hard to take care of but it still makes me happy.”

You bury your face in the pillow to muffle the groan. “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been emotionally constipated for weeks. Let me live.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make both of you feel the shift. Like something fragile is settling between you, just out of reach. You lift your head and meet her gaze again, softer now.

“So what does this mean?” you ask. “Was last night a one-time makeout brought to you by guilt and cat anxiety, or…?”

Karina hesitates, then slowly, carefully, reaches for your hand beneath the blanket. Her fingers lace through yours, and her grip is warm. Steady. “It means I want to try again. If you’ll let me. No more running. No more hiding behind Miso.”

You glance down at the cat, who is now asleep with one paw dramatically draped over Karina’s stomach like she’s claiming her.

“She forgives you,” you say.

Karina smiles. “What about you?”

You think about the hoodie she kept, the look on her face when she kissed you, the way she’s holding your hand like she never wants to let go again.

“I think so.”

Karina squeezes your hand. “Good. That means I’ve got time to win you back properly.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Properly? Is that code for elaborate gestures or more fake cat emergencies?”

She grins. “Oh no. I’m done lying. Next time I want to see you, I’m just gonna show up with coffee and a tragic playlist and say, ‘I’m still in love with you, please let me in.’”

You snort. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, tugging you closer until your forehead brushes hers, “so is losing you again.”

And when you finally lean in, kissing her like you mean it this time no confusion, no fear. Miso lets out the most offended meow imaginable and storms off the bed like she wasn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

#aespa x reader #aespa fluff #aespa x fem reader #aespa #aespa fanfic #aespa fic #aespa x you #aespa karina #karina x reader #karina x you #karina fluff #karina fanfic #yu jimin #aespa karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin x you

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atsumutu · 1 year ago

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it’s your scream that wakes him up. a shrill cry that has zoro jerking upright and latching onto the hilt of his swords.

it takes him barely a minute to get to you, calling out your name as he enters your shared room where he finds you wide eyed and backed into a corner.

“what’s wrong?”

a quick scan of the room comes up empty for intruders so he returns his attention to you, closing the distance between you two with a few steps.

there were intruders. just not the human kind.

“c-cockroach!” you cry, pointing towards the corner of the room where sure enough, there’s a cockroach scuttering past.

zoro turns to you, unimpressed. it’s a tiny thing that hardly called for this level of reaction. it most definitely didn’t warrant cutting his mid afternoon nap short.

“seriously? i thought you were dying.” sleep still clings to his voice making it more rough than usual.

your frenzied eyes move back and forth from the cockroach to the swordsman. “please zoro, if you love me you’ll-“ a squeal cuts off your pleading when another one decides to make an appearance. with nowhere left to run, you just push yourself further into the corner, shutting your eyes.

before your scream comes to an end, zoro’s taken care of the situation, disposing off the offending creatures before returning to you.

“god, such a crybaby.” he grumbles, pulling you towards him. a warm palm settles on your back, rubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. “it’s gone now, okay? it’s dead.”

you peer at zoro through your lashes. “both of them?”

“yes, both of them.”

although his words comfort you, you seek further solace in his embrace, grabbing the fabric of his t shirt and nestling into his chest as he continues running up and down your back.

a few seconds pass before zoro pulls back, remembering something. “i thought you were going out?” he asks, recalling the lively chatter over breakfast as the straw hats made plans to explore the port town they were docked in for the next few days.

“I decided to stay in, thought you might appreciate some company.” you grin, mood perking up now that the cockroaches were dealt with.

zoro rolls his eyes, sassy man that he is, and you suddenly find yourself thrown over his shoulder.

“what i would appreciate is going back to my nap.” he huffs, making his way towards your shared bed.

giggling, you give his firm bottom a few pats. “of course, my hero deserves some rest.”

zoro tolerates it all with a smirk playing on his lips, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze. when he reaches the end of the bed, he drops you onto the mattress, chuckling mildly at the disgruntled noise you make. he makes quick work of removing his swords, resting them on their usual spot against the bedside table, before joining you.

it’s only when you’re tucked into zoro’s side that you pipe up again, lifting yourself to rest on your elbows, feeling playful. “zoro?”

he can already tell this isn't about to be a normal conversation just from the mirth dancing on your lips but he indulges you anyways.

“hm?”

“would you kill all the cockroaches in the world for me?”

zoro snorts at your absurd question. “that’s ridiculous.” he scoffs, fixing an arm behind his head and using the other to have you lie on his chest before answering, only because he knows how this goes with you. “yes, i would.”

he’s rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips and the melody of your laughter. its enough to fill his entire body with warmth.

half an hour and several questions later, sleep still calls to him but his smile remains, content to humour you until your words begin to jumble into one and your breathing evens out into a familiar rhythm, convinced he could do this for an eternity with you.

#my first piece of writing for op i apologise for whatever this even is #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #zoro x you #opla #one piece live action

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starsandsuch · 11 days ago

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Some notes on Revati 🫧🐘🪄

Revati: Sidereal Pisces. The very last Nakshatra spanning from 16.40-30.00 degrees Pisces. The planetary ruler is Mercury and the deity is Pushan. Their yoni animal is a female elephant.

These observations can apply to Revati Sun/Moon/Ascendant/Atmakaraka/Lagnesh. Honorable mention Ketu in Revati.

☁︎ A lot of times they can be taller than average and be naturally athletic.

☁︎ Up close their skin almost seems translucent. It’s glowy and reflective naturally. Think like how fish scales are iridescent up close.

☁︎ Their eyebrows have an “evil” look to them. Arched, angular, heavy.

☁︎ They also often have padding/fleshy upper eyelids.

☁︎ The center of their face is pinched and pouty, giving them a fish like appearance overall.

☁︎ They are usually very pale for their ethnic background. They can be the lightest skin person in their family for example.

☁︎ They often sport big fluffy hair that is short and seemingly defies gravity. Cloud-like hair.

☁︎ They look good on camera. They are photogenic, the spotlight loves them.

✦ These natives seem like “the biggest in the room”. It reminds me of how people say “there’s an elephant in the room”. Which is their yoni animal. They are impossible to ignore, they have a magnetic presence.

✦ When I met a Revati celeb once they just seemed so big in person, like their presence was the heavy gravity of the room. They towered over everyone.

✦ Most Revatis seem more cheerful than they actually are. People usually describe them as happy and popular but they actually have sardonic personalities once you actually know them.

✦ The phrase “popular loner” describes them.

✦ These are very “remote” individuals, hard to reach, hard to grasp. You can know them well and still feel like you don’t know them at all.

✦ They are mysterious but very personable at the same time.

✦ They are also very elusive. They’re never in the same place for long. They travel a lot, go different places, at any given moment it’s kind of unknown where they are in terms of location. They are fleeting and slippery.

☁︎ They often go through major extremes in life. Going from being poor to rich. Living in an oppressive environment then achieving freedom. Near death experiences but coming back from it. Having a lot of money then losing it all. Going to jail then getting out. They have interesting & crazy life stories.

☁︎ These natives are some of the luckiest people of all the Nakshatras, if not the luckiest. Things always work in their favor 🍀

☁︎ They get money in lucky ways especially. I’ve seen they gain a lot in major lump sums: through inheritance, winning a lawsuit, marrying wealthy, having a hit song, going viral on socials, writing a popular book etc. after all one of the Sanskrit translations for “Revati” is “wealthy”.

☁︎ They usually do one major thing and it yields them wealth for the rest of their lives.

☁︎ They are very generous individuals. They will materially help pretty much anyone who needs it.

☁︎ It’s a common theme that Revati natives are adopted or don’t know the identity of one or both of their biological parents.

☁︎ In childhood they gain independence early and pretty much raise themselves.

✦ They love being sassy and saying sarcastic things.

✦ It kinda works in their favor to be b!tchy and cocky. When they act nice and humble, people hate them. When they act like a meanie people like them more.

✦ Their mind thinks quickly, so this is someone who can think of jokes and comebacks on the spot in social situations.

✦ Out of all celebrities I see these natives don’t need like a PR team and marketing schemes. People just naturally fw them. Born to be popular.

✦ They have a lot of fans and people that cheer them on.

✦ They are tricksters at their core. They can usually outsmart anyone. They get certain satisfaction through trickery.

✦ They are oddly not very afraid of violence. Oftentimes they romanticize it in a way.

✦ Many actors who play villains in movies have Revati strong in their chart.

☁︎ They enjoy having different s3xual partners, they have a lot of curiousity when it comes to s3xuality. They aren’t really afraid of it like most people are.

☁︎ Many Revati women are aroused by being with someone who is already taken. Sorry they are never beating the “man stealer” allegations.

☁︎ Revati men are somehow always involved with having a “harem” of women. In movies actors who play pimps usually have Revati in their chart.

☁︎ Their fashion style is a bit wild, but somehow always works. Someone on here said how they have “bag lady” aesthetic which is very true. Tattered hems, many prints, wild hair, different textures, it’s a bit hard to describe but its sort of boundless.

☁︎ Many Revatis behave in a way where they think the “rules” don’t apply to them. They make their own rules and kind of laugh at the societal constraints others follow mindlessly.

☁︎ They are a person that is kind of like a “cheat code”. Someone who beats all the odds mysteriously. The glitch, the anomaly.

#revati #astro observations #vedic astrology #vedic astro observations #astrology observations #pisces #sidereal pisces #nakshatras #starsandsuch #2025

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claramelooo · 1 month ago

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WOVEN FATES (14/20)

Well, this chapter is short but it's definitely something...

Enjoy it <3

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio x Fem Reader

Summary: Staying away from your mommies makes you discover new things.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

Source

The aroma of fresh coffee and a faint sweet note lingered in the air, slowly pulling you out of sleep.

Still nestled in the soft sheets of the king-size bed, you stretched lazily, feeling your muscles protest against the abrupt movement.

The lingering warmth of the previous night still clung to your skin—remembering Agatha’s vulnerability, the way she let you hold her, let you see her. The heated kisses with a salty taste of tears. The glorious orgasms you had given her.

All of it was enough to make you stay in bed—in your little love nest—but the promise of caffeine was enough to gather your strength and abandon the sheets.

The mansion was quiet, except for a voice in the background—one that certainly wasn’t Agatha’s. Curious, you followed the hallway to the kitchen, where you found your Mommy sitting at the table, wrapped in a dark silk robe, her brown hair loose and unruly.

There was a duality in Agatha that you found intriguing. The subversive and intimidating appearance combined with her sarcastic and highly stern, controlling demeanor made her so… Agatha.

A full-fledged character, you thought.

In front of her, the phone screen glowed, revealing the image of Rio, who was speaking animatedly, gesturing with exaggerated movements.

“... and then, a journalist had the audacity to tell me that my series of paintings on the void of human existence was ‘too nihilistic.’ As if that were an insult,” Rio commented, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Agatha took a sip of coffee, exhaling a bored sigh. “Well, you could have thrown paint at him and claimed it was a social art experiment. I would’ve supported it.”

She hadn’t yet noticed your presence, and you pondered whether to serve yourself a cup or simply steal a sip from Agatha’s coffee. But before you could decide, Rio spotted you behind the screen and broke into a wide smile.

“Well, look who’s here... Sweetie, Mama misses you so much!!” the artist exclaimed, her accent thick and melodic.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Agatha sighed heavily, as if merely existing in the morning was already a cruel punishment.

“In the morning, Vidal? Seriously?”

Rio ignored the grumpiness with the ease of someone who was already used to it and waved insistently. “Yes. Now come here, dear, let Mama get a better look at you!”

Still drowsy, you ran a hand through your disheveled hair, trying to give it some semblance of acceptable shape, and approached, peeking over Agatha’s shoulder.

“Hi, Mama,” you murmured, your voice husky from sleep.

“You look... well-rested,” Rio commented, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Agatha narrowed her eyes at the screen, suspicious. “Was that a euphemism?”

Rio laughed, shrugging. “If it was, I won’t admit it.”

As Agatha muttered something inaudible, you took advantage of the distraction to steal a toast from her plate.

Without even looking, Agatha stretched her hand in the air, as if predicting the move. “Drop it.”

“Too late,” you replied, chewing slowly just to provoke her.

Agatha huffed, but a nearly imperceptible smile threatened to appear at the corner of her lips.

Rio watched the scene with evident delight.

“You two are becoming one person,” she teased. “My God, my poor girl is already picking up your manners, Agatha.”

Agatha let out a dramatic sigh before taking another sip of coffee. “Wrong. She’s picking up yours, Vidal.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Stealing food from other people’s plates? Sassy remarks before breakfast? And that... disheveled hair that looks like conceptual art? You’re becoming a little Rio.”

Rio gasped theatrically. “Wrong. The disheveled hair is yours, M’lady.” She pointed to the woman beside her, whose frizzy, untamed hair bore witness to the truth of the accusation.

“Fuck you, Vidal.” Agatha flipped off her wife, who merely laughed.

Sexy and grumpy, you thought.

Rio placed a hand on her chest, feigning emotion. “Oh, Agatha, what a beautiful thing to say in the morning! I knew that deep down, you loved me.”

“If by ‘love’ you mean ‘tolerate until it explodes and makes me want to set the White House on fire,’ then yes,” Agatha retorted, unimpressed.

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could argue, you realized you were holding her coffee mug—or rather, your coffee mug now—exactly the way Rio held her paintbrushes, with an air of nonchalance, as if the object had always belonged to you.

And then it hit you.

“Oh my God,” you murmured, horrified. “I’m becoming Mama.”

Rio burst into laughter. “You finally realized! Come, darling! Leave your grumpy Mommy there in Los Angeles! Let’s open a studio in Paris! You can be my assistant and steal other people’s coffee as much as you want. No limits for my little princess.”

“She already does that,” Agatha intervened, taking the mug from your hands with a stern look. “Except, instead of art, she only produces chaos.”

You gave a satisfied smirk. “Chaos is a form of art too.”

Rio snapped her fingers, proud. “My brilliant student!”

Agatha ran a hand down her face, sighing. “God. Give me patience.”

But even while grumbling, she put together a sandwich and placed it on your plate without even looking.

You smiled.

The day would be long, but you were starting to feel your energy bloom. Everything was really easier with them.

A few minutes later, after Agatha forced you to wear a purple sweater—because she loved seeing you in purple and was sure it would rain—you were inside the Audi, heading off.

The car’s engine hummed softly, filling the comfortable silence between you. The radio played a discreet instrumental melody, while Agatha kept her eyes on the road, one firm hand on the wheel and the other holding a thermal coffee cup.

You looked at your phone screen, rereading the scene you had written for Wanda.

“So,” you began, shifting in your seat. “I’m rereading Wanda’s scene and... I think I managed to capture the way she embraces magic after the twins’ death. It’s a chaotic acceptance, but also an inevitable one. Do you think it works?”

Agatha looked at you for a moment before turning back to the road, seeming in no rush to answer.

“It works,” she finally said, without taking her eyes off the street. “Because it’s true. Her magic was never a curse, but a calling. Grief only opened the doors she kept trying to shut.”

You smiled, satisfied. “I like that. How she realizes she was never a monster. She was just trying to be something she never was—human, ordinary.”

“Exactly,” Agatha nodded, her lips curling into an almost imperceptible, chaste smile. “Pain can be a catalyst or an anchor. She always had too much power to be anchored by anything other than herself.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over the words. You liked discussing your scenes with Agatha. Even when she was critical, she always saw things you didn’t.

Locking your phone screen, you stared out the window. You could already feel your heart ache and your body weaken. It was strange how painful it was to be away from them. Your dependence was killing you.

After a few minutes, you cleared your throat. “Hm... Mommy?”

She arched an eyebrow, not taking her eyes off the road.

“Can I go out with Alice after class today?”

The car turned a corner. Three blocks. The damned three blocks before the university.

Whenever the engine stopped there, the reminder that you would never be anything more than a secret to them kept looping in your mind. You couldn't help but be bothered by it, and now more than ever, you wanted to get away from that place and everything it represented.

You noticed the way Agatha's jaw tightened. She didn’t respond immediately. She just pulled the handbrake, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel in a calculated rhythm.

Silence dragged on. You waited.

She took a deep breath, as if evaluating all possibilities, considering every little detail before making a decision.

"Fine," she finally said. "But be home by 9 PM. We’ll call your Mama."

Your eyes widened, and you smiled. "Really? We can call Mama?"

This time, Agatha shot you a sideways glance, her expression unreadable.

"Yes. She was a nervous wreck over the exhibition," you grinned, imagining Rio terrorizing the staff in her broken French, "... and I know you miss her," she murmured, turning her attention back to the road.

Your chest warmed. Rio was in Paris, busy, but you missed her—missed the way she spoke, her little jokes, and the way she could make you stop overthinking.

You couldn’t hold back your smile. The excitement was so overwhelming that, before you even thought about it, you leaned in and cupped Agatha’s face in your hands, pulling her into a firm kiss.

She froze the moment your lips touched hers, a reaction almost comical considering how relentless Agatha was in practically every situation.

But at that moment?

You completely unraveled her.

Her lips were warm, still carrying the bitter taste of coffee, and her initial shock quickly melted into an involuntary surrender.

You felt the exact moment her body’s rigidity gave way—a breath against your mouth, a hesitant movement of her hands, as if she were fighting the urge to grab your waist and pull you back in.

But you were faster. You pulled away before she could fully recover, before she could turn the tables and remind you who was really in control here.

Agatha blinked, her eyes slightly widened, as if she needed a second to process what had just happened. You took advantage of that rare moment of vulnerability and flashed a mischievous smile.

"See you later, Mommy." Your voice was slow, almost teasing, and you slipped out of the car before she could say anything.

But as you shut the door, you managed to catch the muffled sound of a frustrated sigh and the impatient tapping of nails against the steering wheel.

Satisfied, you walked toward the entrance of the university, feeling her gaze burning into your back.

The campus was bustling with students moving in all directions—laughing, talking, complaining about classes. You scanned the groups and smiled when you spotted Alice’s.

She was sitting on the edge of one of the stone benches, laughing at something a friend had said. The morning sun hit her dark hair, creating a golden halo around her head.

"Alice!" you called out with a wide grin.

She looked up at the sound of her name, and a genuine smile spread across her lips. "Hey, look who decided to show up!"

As you reached her side, you noticed three other people there—two girls and a guy, all watching you with a certain interest. There was something peculiar about their presence, something hard to define.

"Oh, let me introduce you," Alice said, sliding off the bench with the effortless grace of someone who always fit in wherever they went. "This here is Billy, that's Jennifer, and this is Yelena."

Billy was tall and lanky, with intense eyes and an easy smile, his hair messy as if he didn’t care much about it. Jennifer had an intimidating beauty, sharp eyes, and a calculated posture, while Yelena… well, she just tilted her head, observing you with a look that made something twist inside you.

"Nice to meet you all," you said, shaking each of their hands. Their grips were firm, but Billy let his fingers slide against your palm, sending a shiver up your spine.

Weird.

"So, are you feeling better today?" Alice asked, leaning casually against the bench.

"Oh. Yeah. Much better." You adjusted your backpack strap, looking at your shoes, trying to sound nonchalant. "... You know... Just wanted to let you know I’m free after class."

Billy grinned, his eyes lighting up with something you couldn’t quite read. "That’s amazing. We were just deciding whether to hang out at my place. I guess you made the decision for us, darling." He winked at you, making your cheeks flush.

Jennifer shot him a sidelong glance, a small smirk curving her lips.

"Definitely," Yelena murmured, crossing her arms.

You blinked, feeling something odd in the way they looked at you—like they were waiting for something. But Alice laughed, slipping an arm around your waist for a brief second, and any unease disappeared.

"It’ll be fun," she assured you, and you didn’t doubt that.

When the bell rang, you said goodbye and hurried off.

What the hell was that?

They had a different aura—heavy, suffocating. And you felt like you were committing some kind of sin just by talking to them.

Why?

The classroom seemed to spin around an invisible axis as you tried to ignore the nagging feeling in your chest. The sound of pens scratching against paper, the hushed whispers of students, the ticking clock—all of it felt distant, like it was happening in another reality.

You should have been focused on your test, but your mind refused to cooperate. The sharp pencil twirled between your fingers, pressing against the paper without actually writing anything.

What was this?

This unsettling, suffocating feeling of absence, of something missing?

You tried to find a rational explanation.

Maybe it was Wanda, with her green eyes that always seemed to see beyond, searching for something inside you that even you didn’t understand.

Or maybe it was Alice and her new friends, watching you with that strange, overly curious look.

They all left a burning sensation in your chest, like acid reflux.

But you knew these thoughts were shallow, that they didn’t dig deep enough to explain the tightness in your chest.

Because the truth was, this feeling came from them.

From the silent house without the sound of clinking teacups, without Agatha’s low murmurs in the morning as she cut your fruit into cute shapes.

Without Rio’s playful taps on your butt, her voice calling you "darling" as she whispered lullabies in a language you didn’t know.

You missed them with hunger, like a weight in your stomach that wouldn’t go away.

And it didn’t even make sense. You’d see them in just a few hours, you’d go back home, and everything would be there.

But the cold in your bones didn’t believe that.

It was irrational, but your body refused to accept logic. The hand holding your pencil was trembling. Your chest rose and fell in an erratic rhythm.

This wasn’t normal.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself. Maybe it was just exhaustion. Or maybe… maybe it was something deeper, something you didn’t understand.

The nausea hit like a violent wave, without warning. Your stomach churned, and before you could think, you pushed your chair back, nearly tripping as you rushed out of the classroom. A few students glanced up at your sudden movement, but you didn’t care.

Your steps were quick and clumsy down the empty hallway, the sound of your own feet echoing on the cold tiles.

The air seemed stuck in your throat, the tightness in your chest suffocating, as if something inside you was shattering.

The bathroom was empty when you entered abruptly, causing an echo. You rushed into the nearest stall, collapsing to your knees in front of the toilet, your fingers digging into the cold porcelain as whatever this thing inside you was refused to stay contained.

Your whole body trembled.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. A raw, painful retch made your back arch, and then—you vomited.

Your mind was.

The lack of them tore you apart.

This wasn’t normal.

It couldn’t be normal.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the bitter taste in your mouth, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. It made no sense—this desperate need, this pain that shouldn’t be there.

You would be home in a few hours. You would see Agatha. You would hear Rio’s voice. But your body didn’t believe that. Your body reacted as if you were being ripped away from them.

And why?

Why?

You got up on unsteady legs, walking to the sink to rinse your mouth. The reflection in the mirror showed your wide eyes, pale skin, a cold sweat on your forehead. You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself, trying to pretend you were fine.

But then—

A voice.

A voice that made you freeze in place.

"This can’t go on like this!"

Your heart almost stopped.

You knew that voice.

Agatha.

Your chest rose and fell erratically as your eyes darted to the door. Agatha was there. In the hallway.

With Professor Calderu?

Every part of your instincts screamed. This wasn’t normal. You had never seen Agatha here, except for the time of the lecture. Not this close to Lilia. This didn’t make sense.

But you were already standing, already taking a hesitant step out of the bathroom, your heart pounding in your throat.

They were there, standing in a more secluded corner of the hallway. Agatha had her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face, while Calderu spoke in a low voice.

You knew you shouldn’t listen.

You knew you should just move on, pretend you saw nothing.

But your instincts gave you no choice.

Your feet moved on their own.

You followed them.

Your heart was beating so hard you could almost hear it in the silence of that place.

They walked toward a corner beyond the campus, entering a hidden room that looked like something out of a medieval castle—damp stone walls, dim yellowish lighting casting distorted shadows.

You held your breath and crouched down, crawling to a small opening near the floor. Your eyes found the feet of the two women inside.

And there they were.

Agatha’s Versace heels, elegant and dangerous, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

She was furious.

"This needs to stop." Agatha’s voice cut through the air like a whip, low but laden with threat. "She’s after her like a damn wolf. Watching. Analyzing." The pause was laced with venom. "Wanting."

A shiver ran down your spine.

Were they talking about you?

Your body tensed, your knees pressing into the cold stone floor. You didn’t know what was worse: the way Agatha spoke or the fact that Calderu didn’t seem surprised.

"Lilia, I’m warning you. If this continues, I will—"

"Agatha."

Calderu’s voice was a murmur, but there was a sharp firmness in it.

"You need to calm down."

Agatha laughed. Not a real laugh, but something cold and cynical. "Calm down?" The red-soled heels stopped abruptly. "You know what will happen if she finds out. If Wanda touches her. If she decides she wants—"

"If you keep this up, you’re the one who’s going to ruin everything."

Silence.

You bit your lip, feeling your breath quicken.

What the fuck is this?

Then, Agatha exploded.

"She’s mine!"

The sound of an impact made you flinch. Something had been hit—a table, maybe. Your heart leapt so violently that your stomach twisted.

Calderu sighed. "Agatha…"

"If Wanda wants a source," Agatha spat the word like an insult, "she better find another one. I’ve been patient enough!"

Source?

What?

Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of the conversation.

Wanda. Agatha. Rio. Calderu.

You.

What was happening?

You swallowed hard, breathing carefully to avoid making a sound.

You wanted to run. Or go in there, straight to them, and scream for answers. You wanted to disappear, to go back to your old home and not see the sun for a long time.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, your phone vibrated with an iMessage notification, nearly making you jump.

Alice: We’re in the parking lot. Billy’s car is the red one.

Shit.

Right.

You needed to get out of here. You needed to leave.

Your hands trembled as you closed your phone, the glow of the screen feeling too bright for your eyes.

You needed to leave.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, adrenaline burning through your veins as you turned around and ran down the stone hallway. The walls felt narrower, the air denser.

You needed to leave. Now.

Hurried footsteps echoed, your eyes scanning the surroundings, making sure no one saw you. Thick raindrops stained your sweater. And suddenly, you felt the urge to laugh like a lunatic.

It was raining.

And Agatha was never wrong.

The woman was like a damn witch who could predict the future.

You pushed open the exit door and were met with the cold air of the parking lot.

The red car.

There it was, parked under the white glow of the streetlights. Alice was leaning against the door, scrolling through her phone, while Billy and Yelena stood nearby, cigarettes between their lips, their noses inhaling the nicotine. Jennifer sat in the passenger seat, looking at something in the rearview mirror.

Alice looked up and smiled.

But you couldn’t smile back.

Your steps were heavy as you approached. The lump in your throat felt impossible to swallow. Your vision was slightly blurred.

"What happened?" Alice asked as soon as you got close.

"Nothing," your voice came out weaker than it should have.

Billy opened the back door, stomping out his cigarette. "Get in already, it’s fucking freezing out here."

You got in.

The seat was soft. The smell of leather mixed with nicotine filled your lungs. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

But it didn’t help.

Your stomach twisted in involuntary spasms, as if something inside you was writhing the wrong way.

A sickness took over you, burning your skin, trembling and strange. You clenched your hands in your lap, trying to focus on anything other than your body.

Agatha’s Versace heels.

The sharp edge of her voice.

"She’s mine!"

Your insides knotted, nausea surging with force.

No.

You rolled down the window, desperate for air. But the world spun. The cold metal under your fingers wasn’t enough to anchor you. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know why your body was reacting like this—

"Hey," Alice called. "Are you okay?"

You didn’t know how to answer. And before you could say anything, the car engine started, wasting no time in pulling away.

Billy’s house was unlike any you had ever entered.

The lighting was dim, coming from yellow-tinted lamps that resembled candles scattered in different corners. Shadows danced across the walls, giving the room an unsettling air.

The furniture was heavy, made of dark wood, arranged in a way that suggested Billy lived alone. No overly personal touches. No family photos.

But what really caught your attention were the images.

Paintings and ancient tapestries covered the walls, all depicting female figures with intense gazes and dark garments. Some held the severed heads of men; others danced in circles, engulfed in flames.

You swallowed hard.

"Shall we begin?" Billy asked, tossing a strange deck of cards onto the table.

The "party" was an afternoon of games.

But the games were anything but conventional.

Alice laughed beside you, shuffling the cards with unnerving agility, as if she had done it all her life. Jennifer lit another candle. Yelena unfolded a carved wooden board.

You sat, watching.

Billy smiled sharply, his fingers gliding over the cards as if they were an extension of himself.

"Let's play Three Truths."

Alice laughed next to you, tapping the table excitedly. "You're gonna love it!"

You weren’t so sure.

Jennifer lit a candle, and the flame flickered, casting eerie shadows across the room. Yelena opened the wooden board, her cold, curious eyes locked onto your reaction.

You shifted uncomfortably on the rug. "What kind of game is this?"

Billy stacked the deck in the center of the table and began to explain:

"Each player gets three cards, face down." He flipped the top card, and a strange symbol shimmered for a second before vanishing.

"One card reveals who you are." He turned another, this time showing an illustration of a woman holding a cracked mirror.

"Another reveals what you desire." The third card displayed a disturbing image of a pair of green eyes, surrounded by a veil of shadows.

Your stomach twisted.

Billy’s smile widened. "And the last one reveals what is hidden inside you."

Your heart pounded in your chest.

"Is this serious?" Your voice came out tenser than you'd intended.

Alice leaned closer, her eyes glinting with something indefinable. "The thing is... the cards tell the truth. Always."

Jennifer chuckled softly. "But they only reveal what’s already inside you, you know?"

Yelena rested her elbows on the table, fingers interlaced in front of her face, never breaking eye contact. "Think you can handle it?"

The words sounded like a challenge.

Your gaze flicked to the deck on the table. Something about it made your skin crawl.

"But it’s just a game, right?"

Billy spun a card between his fingers, his smile enigmatic.

"Depends on what you believe."

Yelena picked up her three cards without hesitation, her fingers gliding over the thick paper edges. Billy smirked, amused, while Alice drummed her fingers on the table.

"Come on, Belova," Jennifer teased, resting her chin in her hands. "Show us what you're made of."

Yelena rolled her eyes but flipped the first card.

The Lady of the Blade.

Billy let out a low whistle. "Well, look at that. Always ready for the attack."

Alice laughed, leaning toward you. "It’s the card of someone who lives to defend themselves."

Yelena raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "Shocking absolutely no one."

You watched in silence, your heart still racing from the rules explanation. So this was how it worked?

She flipped the second card.

The Caged Heart.

This time, Jennifer laughed. "Oof. Emotional blockages?"

Yelena crossed her arms, feigning indifference. "I’m just very selective."

Billy tapped the card with his finger. "Or maybe you're holding onto something even you don’t want to see."

You swallowed hard.

The last card turned.

The Call of the Void.

This time, no one laughed immediately. The illustration on the card depicted a faceless shadow, arms outstretched, beckoning someone into the darkness.

Alice leaned in slightly, her smile fading.

"Interesting."

Jennifer cleared her throat, trying to lighten the mood. "So… you want something you can't have but are afraid to admit it?"

Yelena clicked her tongue, gathering the cards back. "Maybe this fucking game is a massive waste of time."

Billy just smiled. "Or maybe the cards don’t lie."

Silence weighed for a moment.

You swallowed hard, feeling a chill creep up your spine.

Alice shuffled the cards again, her eyes gleaming as she pushed the deck toward you.

"Your turn."

You hesitated. The room hadn’t felt this warm before.

Billy smiled almost gently, but there was something curious in his gaze. "No need to be afraid. The game only shows what’s already inside you."

"Great," you muttered sarcastically. "That makes everything so much better."

Alice laughed, nudging your arm. "Come on, just pick them."

Slowly, you reached out, taking three cards and placing them face down on the table. Your chest tightened. It was just a game. Right?

"Go on, flip them," Jennifer encouraged.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the first one.

The Lost Path.

Alice frowned. Billy let out a low whistle.

"Interesting," he murmured.

"Why?" you asked, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Yelena clicked her tongue. "Because it means you don’t know where you’re going. But someone does."

A shiver ran up your spine.

You flipped the second card.

The Invisible Chains.

Their reaction was even quieter this time.

Jennifer cleared her throat. "Well… that’s pretty straightforward."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

Alice bit her lip, leaning over the table. "It means you're bound to something… or someone."

Your mouth went dry.

They waited.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you turned the last card.

The Hidden Source.

Silence fell.

The crackling of the candles suddenly seemed deafening.

Alice's eyes widened. Billy frowned, looking… impressed? Jennifer held her breath.

Yelena straightened in her chair.

A chill ran through you, your gaze locked on the card’s illustration. A spring of black water gushed from a crack in the ground, shadows spiraling around it, as if ready to consume anyone who got too close.

Billy licked his lips, resting his elbows on the table.

"Well," he said finally. "Looks like we found what we were looking for."

~*~

Okay, okay... Maybe there magic in this universe hahaha. Deal with it.

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good @imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp @lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01 @aboutcustardcreams @upsidedowndanvers @starbucks-06 @absolute-memegarbage @trinity2k @greyella @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @whitelotus00 @dandelions4us @creaturesaphique @warpdrive-witch @sweetmidnights

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whoskimii · 2 months ago

Text

GIVE Y𖹭U WHATEVER Y𖹭U WANT !

★ she fingers you ft. yuki ! ★

˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smut, pillow princess x stone top, brief mention of strap-on sex near the end, fingering (reader receiving), hair pulling.

˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1.1k

“i know, baby, i know,” yuki sighed distractedly, still focused on her book. she knew damn well she hadn't been giving enough attention to you — her pretty baby girl.

you had been all over her since the second she woke up. usually, she would've already been kissing your pretty face and cuddling you, but recently, she had found a book she was pretty interested in finishing.

of course, you weren't used to her not giving you the attention you craved. you had been quite grouchy about it, huffing like a dog to get her to focus on you. however, much to your disappointment, nothing worked. “baby, 'm almost finished, i swear.” she tried to reassure you many times.

a book ? seriously ? you were much more interesting than a damn book. you crawled on your girlfriend's lap for the sixth time in two minutes, this time finally deciding to make a move — you tugged the object off her hands. “hey...” a soft chuckle left the blonde's lips at your pouty expression. “pretty girl.”

“what's wrong, huh ?” yuki tilted her head, attempting to draw an answer from you — although she already knew what was wrong.

obviously.

without even thinking about it, your pretty pink lips parted, emitting a sound like a scoff. “y'know what's wrong,” yuki's eyes lazily settled on your manicured hands, which were slowly trailing up her strong arms, making their way up to her broad shoulders. "you're not payin' attention t'me..."

the quiet words that came from you were enough to make her coo at you. “aw, doll... 'm sorry, sweet girl, 'm jus' reading.” you shrugged at her response. “and ?”

your sassy reaction amused her. “oh, sassy, mhm ?” her hands slid to your meaty ass. “y'know how i get when 'm focused on something.” as soon as she noticed a soft frown appearing on your lovely features, she imitated you. “focus on me.” you repeated.

you were able to withdraw a sigh from your lover once you began grinding your hips into hers — subtly, teasingly. “y'know 'm so much more interesting than...” you paused, taking the time to glance at the book she had been reading. "this book."

she gave you a gentle nod, soon enough followed by a low hum. “you are.”

huh ?

if she knew you were way better than any book ever created, why wasn't she paying attention to you ? at the sight of your confused expression, she chuckled silently. “c'mere. gimme a kiss.” at the same time, her large hands slid to your small ones, intertwining your digits together.

your confusion only lasted a short span of time. with a happy smile, you leaned down and pressed your pink lips to hers. once your lips met, yuki instinctively sighed into the embrace. “i'm so sorry, sugar,” she whispered an apology against your lips. "mhm. 's okay, yuki." you murmured, slowly pulling away.

however, yuki didn't let you pull away much. her hand sneaked around the back of your neck, holding you close. “no, 's not.” she whispered firmly. “gotta apologize to my girl properly.”

once you understood the not-so-hidden meaning behind her words, your plush thighs squeezed together in a desperate search of friction.

“yuki...” her name left your lips in a sigh as she began pressing snug lil' kisses to the underside of your jaw. “yeah, 'm here, sweetheart... shh, don't worry your pretty lil' head 'bout nothing, 'kay ? jus' lemme take care of you, pretty thing.”

the tiny nod you gave her was instinctive. every time yuki touched you, you just shut your little brain off. she always handled everything on her own.

you tucked your head into the crook of her neck the moment you felt her long fingers ghosting against the thin fabric of your pink panties. a damp spot had already formed a long time ago. “already ?” your girlfriend couldn't help but speak with a condescending tone, only to soften again once you whined quietly — you didn't want to be teased, not after fighting for her attention for so long. “aw, i'm sorry, my love...”

a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “why don't you tell me 'bout your day, little one ? i wanna hear you.” with a hum, you began telling her about what you did — how you painted your nails, what color. “keep talking.” she whispered when she slid her hand into your panties, her thumb grazing your needy clit. “what color ? sorry, baby.”

“pink...” you breathed for the second time, tucking your lower lip between your pearly white teeth. “pink.” she hummed. “great choice, honey.” you shifted, trying to get comfy in your lover's arms. "mhm, thank— ngh..." you moaned when she gently pressed the pad of her middle finger against your entrance. “shh... take it, c'mon.”

at the sweet intrusion, your gummy walls tightened around the digit. “yeah... like that.” yuki slowly slid her finger back, only leaving the tip in. you mewled once she pushed it in again. “be quiet, flower.” she gently pushed your head in her neck, your teeth easily finding her skin. “bite. jus' be quiet.”

as she continued fingering you, you gently bit down on her neck when you wanted to moan. a tiny gasp escaped you when you felt a second finger sliding inside you. you tangled your hand in yuki's hair, giving it a slight tug — which earned a groan from her.

her eyes met yours. she could effortlessly recognize the look in your pretty eyes — the one you always gave her when you wanted her to fuck you.

such a vulgar thing for a dainty girl like you.

“can you handle a third finger ?” she preferred to ask, knowing you usually couldn't get past two of her digits inside you.

however, when you gave her a slow nod as a response, she bit her lip. “okay.” she felt you grip her shoulders to find a semblance of balance. “yuki...” you breathed. “i know.”

once she attempted to slide a third digit inside you, she felt you tense. “hey, 's just me, pretty girl.” she reassured you. with her free hand, she grabbed your hip to make you sit on her fingers. “slow 'n nice. just like that...”

having three fingers inside you — especially yuki's — felt new. “hn— fuck...” you murmured. "feel so full, yuki..." she laughed at you. “yeah ? bet you'd feel even fuller with my strap, mhm ?” the moment the blonde felt your tight cunnie clenching around her three fingers, she laughed. “oh ? someone's curious 'bout my strap, i guess.”

as yuki pulled away from you, leaving you feel empty — literally — you whined. “where you going...” you sighed. ��stay here.” she ignored your question.

you perked up when yuki returned. “spread your legs.” you frowned. “huh ?” she laughed. “spread 'em.” you hesitantly obeyed, exposing yourself to her. yuki quickly reacted, sliding a harness on herself.

a soft gasp escaped you — and a pink blush came to decorate your full cheeks. “yuki !” she lifted her head, clueless. “huh ?”

you were in for a long night.

mommy yuki :33

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shuenkio · 9 days ago

Text

愛 I want your Salty ! - 이희승

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader

Synopsis ; It was a teasing joke but who knows your boyfriend would actually let you taste his "Salty" Water?

Genre: Smut Cw: Smau. Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/n: ik there'd be some part that different from the starter, since my brain is not braining— anyway.

In a day of normal life of Mn who always wanted someone who can understand him and can handle him at his worst not only his emotion but his behavior too since he know himself that, he can't control his running lip and thought sometime despite being a random rambler person, and it was just a dream and hoping to find a perfect boyfriend right? right but not until someone like his tinder profile, and text him that they want to meet him, a normal single date between two guys wouldn't hurt a try, so Mn give it a short, lower his expectation and standard so he can take anything they could offer.

Lord have mercy, it not what Mn have expected, the person who asked him out on a date named, Heeseung is just far more than he could imagine after exchange each other life story. Mn was about to explode after learning that Heeseung was just as much as him, just a different body at least, he was casual, blunt, quite, bold and understandable kind of person which make it so perfect if he would be Mn's boyfriend.

Which soon turn to be true, it not Mn who asked the taller if he had a partner, it the other way around. the red hair didnt play once he also find his perfect love on a random day and he would let it slip into thin air? not a chance, after the date end that day, he immediately asked Mn out and asked him to be his, not for a time being but forever, and when Mn ensure about a second thoughts, Heeseung didn't care one bit if there any negative about Mn, He calmy response he know when he see one and that's not his Mn. And the answer cannot be No, if Hee want it he would do anything....

Present time

The day fall into dark, replace by the thousands stars filled the empty sky, the moon were amazing today, it light shine bright through every corner of the busy night city. Mn and Heeseung just got back from running errands today and making both of their ways back to their shared apartment home. Due to the hot weather from the day, when Mn spotted a ice cream truck he was thinking to grab some to cool down their body, and Heeseung just go along with it, anything for his Boyfriend.

And they continue on their way back home, as both of them have ice cream in their palm, licking, sucking, savoring the taste with it cold and yummy flavor. As Mn was eating, he is licking a scoop of ice cream which make his brain freeze for a moment. Heeseung chuckled to the sight, find t amusing and adorable when Mn acting like a toddler. Mn knot his brows together, his expression turn to a fake sulking that draw more laugh from the latter. The good time last for a while, before an idea pop up when Mn thought of something that could make his Boyfriend stun or even freaking shock.

"Stop snorting, This ice cream was too sweet that i could get diabetes ugh why don't you help me" Mn let out a sassy sigh and look away, hoping he would respond to his favor.

"By what, i don't have anything on me except a bottle of water, do want it?" Hee claimed, as he was about to pull out a water bottled from his backpack but was stopped why Mn comments.

"Oh so you thought i want that bland water? joke on you i want a salty one- from You" Smirk appear on Mn face, express the teasing in his tone with a hint of actually want it, knowing that Heeseung won't do such thing, and Mn know his taller bf know what he mean. Result Heeseung to turn his head slowly toward his lover, raise one of his eyebrows,That's even Mn cant even read his face.

Yet he not actually looking and pay much attention to Mn right now, Hee looking for a nearby restroom.

"What are you looking for? Don't take it seriously i was joking let's go back home, it getting late" Mn disappointed and awkward ate him up as nothing slip from Heeseung lip, it was pure silent. Mn was ready to go back home at instant only to get his back collar hooked by Heeseung's finger and dragging Mn to the restroom nearby.

"Don't be, i never said i would not give what you want, you said what you said right?"

"Heeseung....!"

////

Inside the empty restroom, with barely nobody came across at this hour, Heeseung and Mn were in the same stall, just the two of them.

With Heeseung sitting on the toilet, Mn were sitting down on the floor. A lopsided grin painted in the taller face as his fingers dug into the waistband of his pants, all at once before pool down everything on his ankle, with a quite a shift of the fabric, his cock was exposed- vulnerable in a way that giving Mn access to his liking, the cool air brushing over the heated skin making him twitching and throbbing.

"Go on suck it like how you wanted, i don't mind since you like it"

Mn blinked, jaw ticking slightly, like his brain had short circuited but refused to believe what his lover just did.

"Uhhh can i even?-"

"If you don't I'm going to make you yourself darling, do it as you please, suck my cock until it dripping, leaking, and load you milk by the time it fucking drown your throat, like you want it Mn, my salty cum- do i need to say more?"

Heeseung even making sure he was making the right statement for his clueless boyfriend so he could feel at ease, as he lean backward, spread his legs more for his Mn to giving him more entry. He always been the understanding one, quietly patient, nothing really shock him anymore, he would give all the things Mn desire.

Mn eyes spark with satisfations the kind that came when something he longing for finally here. As he slowly insert his boyfriend's jotting massive cock inside his warm mouth then began to bobbing his head in a steady rhyme, taking his time to make this moment longer. While Heeseung just sit still, doing nonthing.

"Just like that Mn, wrapped that hungry lip like you want to eat this cock- fuck hell yeah" The empty room are now filled with soft groan and moaning from the stall, not even care if there anyone would hear them, this is all pleasure that cannot be stop.

Heeseung’s breath caught, shoulders pressing back as his fingers curled tight in hair. He wasn’t being loud, he couldn’t be, but the sounds still slipped from him, unfiltered and low. Quiet groans rolled out of his chest, scattered and rough around the edges like he didn’t know how to hold them in anymore.

"Ah… fuck…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word felt heavy, soaked in heat.

The mouth on him moved with intention. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just steady, like something worth savoring. Tongue soft and warm as it swept along the underside, slow and sure, before easing back again. Heeseung shuddered, jaw clenching as his thighs twitched.

He looked down and swore again, eyes glazed, lips parted, chest rising in shallow waves.

"You’re gonna make me… shit, Don't you stop"

Heeseung’s hand dropped to the stall wall, palm flat, searching for something solid. The way he was being taken in wasn’t rough, but it was overwhelming in its care. Like every second had been memorized.

He let out a moan, voice caught in the back of his throat.

"God, your mouth…"

His body trembled as that warmth coiled tight in his stomach. The way he was being taken in, steadily, deeper with each pass, had him spiraling. Heeseung could barely breathe. His other hand tangled deeper in Mn hair, not guiding, just holding on.

"You’re gonna kill me," he whispered, a choked sound following right after.

"Don’t stop. Please. Just… don’t."

His hips jerked once, breath staggering, and the mouth around him adjusted with the same smooth pressure, never missing a beat. A soft hum followed, intentional or not, it didn’t matter. It was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…cum, cum cumming ”

With a low, shaky moan, Heeseung tensed. His breath stilled. Then he came, with a massive load, it was quiet but intense, his toes curling as a sound escaped him, raw, soft, almost reverent.

"Swallow it, don't leave any drop darling, just like you need to refresh your sweet tongue"

His head tipped back, neck bared to the too-bright lights above, chest rising in uneven waves as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fingers still tangled, body still pulsing from the aftershock.

"Was it salty like you want now?"

Mn nodded satisfied.

Who wouldn't when you get to suck Dick, especially from someone you loved.

162 notes · View notes

theemporium · 9 months ago

Text

[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.

new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist

warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.

read part one here

It was chaos the second you walked through the door.

You had never seen the house in such a state: orders being yelled out, people pushing past each other, guns and weapons being loaded onto belts and into bags, screams so loud they were basically incoherent.

Somewhere in the mess, Nico had taken your hand and refused to let go. You couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away just yet either.

He tugged you through the bustling crowd of people, pulling you towards a large dining room in the back of the house—the one used for the weekly family dinners—when the incoherent screams began to make sense. You could hear each of their voices so clear, so distinct, so angry.

It made something in your own chest tighten and twist into something ugly.

Jesper was the first one to notice you both. Or maybe he was the only one willing to tear his eyes away from the heart-stopping sight in the middle of the room.

You had seen Jack in many states. You had seen him in his usual everyday, bubbly and loud moods where he was charming and sweet and a little sassy. You had seen him drunk and clingy and throwing himself around like he was unstoppable. You had seen him silent and angry and huffy when things didn’t go his way, when he messed up or didn’t do something up to his personal standards.

You had seen him so many ways and yet, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him now.

He looked dead.

There was no other way to put it, no way to sugarcoat it. He was laying out on the dining table they used for family dinners: his face was black and bruised and cut up, his clothes were ripped and wrecked, his shirt was practically nonexistent and giving you a clear view of his torso.

It was shredded.

You had seen men die in a million different ways, fast and slow and easy and torturous. You had seen men on the brink of their life, begging and pleading and praying to a god that wasn’t watching over them. You had seen men beg for mercy. You had seen men so arrogant they could barely finish their sentence before the bullet was put through their head.

But you had never seen something like this—or maybe you had never seen someone you care about like this.

There were large gashes spanning across his stomach. They were huge and deep and gruesome to look at. And it was bloody. So bloody. So much blood seeping out of his wounds and staining his skin, his clothes, the table, the wood.

Everything.

And his body was unresponsive. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale.

And he looked dead.

Jack Hughes looked dead and it made you queasy.

It hadn’t even clicked to you where the screams were coming from, or rather who they were coming from before you heard Jesper talking.

“They can’t do anything to help him until he moves,” Jesper rasped, something quite like fear lacing his words as he spoke. “Nico, he’s freaking out and he’s—”

“I’m not leaving! I-I can’t! He can’t leave me!”

Your eyes snapped over Jesper’s shoulder, finally spotting Luke being held back by Kurtis and Kevin with sombre looks on their faces. He was thrashing against their hold, angry and worried and upset. For the first time since you met the boy, it hit you just how young he really looked when his emotions really took over.

“Get him out of here,” Nico hissed, short and snappy but the concern could still be heard.

“We can’t,” Jesper repeated, exasperated. “We tried—”

“Let me,” you spoke up, not even waiting for a response from the two boys before you headed straight towards Luke and the others.

“He can’t be dead,” Luke yelled, his voice raspy and broken. “He—He can’t!”

“Luke,” Kurtis tried, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “They need to—”

“He’s not allowed to die!” Luke pleaded, his voice almost sounding like a choked out sob. “He…we…he can’t!”

“And he won’t,” you said in a firm voice, even if the words tasted like battery acid on your tongue. “He won’t die if you let them help, Luke.”

His eyes snapped away from Jack, away from his dying brother on the table, to look at you and it broke your heart. It broke your heart to see the fear and anguish and misery, a haunted look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand but shattered the pieces of your heart into dust regardless.

“I can’t do this alone,” he whispered, no longer tugging against the hands pulling him back as he stared at you with a hopeless expression. “I don’t want to do this without him.”

“You won’t,” you said it like a promise.

Luke shook his head, his eyes red and glossy from tears. “You don’t know that—”

“I do,” you interrupted. “I do know that. It’s scary, I know. But you’re not alone and neither is Jack. The doctors are going to do everything they can, Luke.”

A small ‘ooft’ left your lips as the boy stumbled forward, as his body fell into yours and you caught him as best you could, letting him press his face against your shoulder and let the fight leave his body.

“Let’s give them space, okay?” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Stay with me?”

“Of course,” you murmured, squeezing him tighter.

…

You had spent almost every day with Luke Hughes for the better part of the last four months.

You had seen the younger child charm in him, the slightly awkward but endearing allure that captivated a part of you. You never had any siblings, destined to be the only child your parents had, but you liked to think in another world you had a younger sibling quite like Luke: one that was good-natured and irritating and sassy and witty.

You liked to think that in this world, in this lifetime where you met under unwanted circumstances, that he was more than the boy appointed to be your bodyguard under Nico’s command.

Even from day one, he had never seemed like the young, obedient henchman following the instructions given to him by his boss in an eager attempt to please him. He became a friend, even if it took him a few weeks of wiggling his way into your life until you accepted it. You cared for him more than you ever cared for the younger boys back in New York that made feeble attempts to get on your good side to get an in with Jacob.

You had been denying a lot of emotions and feelings and truths to yourself over the last few weeks and Luke was one of them. You cared for the younger boy. You saw him as a friend, as a brother even. It hurt when he was upset with you, ignoring you for a few days.

And it hurt seeing him now, so broken and hopeless and a shell of the boy who was usually finding new ways to get under your skin.

“He’s all I have left,” Luke murmured, his cheek squished against the pillow beneath his head. “I know the Devils are a family but—”

“I know,” you assured him before the guilt of his words could swallow him whole. “He’s your brother. No one is judging you.”

“I should be beside him,” Luke rasped.

“What Jack needs right now is the doctors,” you murmured, pushing some curls away from his face and watching his eyes flutter shut. “And you need to rest.”

His eyes snapped open. “I can’t—”

“You will,” you said with a pointed look. “You can stay here. If he wakes up, I’ll wake you up.”

Luke swallowed. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you said with a soft smile.

“You’re a good person, Rogue,” he whispered as he slumped back down against the pillow, no longer fighting the exhaustion.

“Yeah, you too, kid,” you said fondly.

You didn’t move from your spot until the boy had fallen asleep, his breaths slowing and his face looking a little more peaceful as he rested. And even then, you remained for a little longer just in case. It was only once you were sure Luke was asleep and okay that you moved to stand up, throwing a blanket over him before you snuck out of your own bedroom.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you turned around to find Nico leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you.

“Sorry,” he shot you a sheepish smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I didn’t expect anyone to be outside,” you admitted, slumping against the door as you mirrored his smile. “How’s Jack?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Nico said, and you felt the relief hit you like a truck. Even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud (especially around Luke), you were terrified of the other outcome, that Luke would wake up to his brother gone. “Probably won’t be happy he will be stuck on bedrest for a few weeks.”

You snorted, despite yourself. “He will be bummed but at least he will be alive.”

“How’s Luke?” Nico asked, a crease between his brows as he tried—and failed—to hide his concern.

“He’ll be okay too,” you said with a soft but sad smile. “I know Jack is his brother but…god, seeing him like that was heartbreaking.”

“Thank you,” Nico murmured, watching as your face morphed into one of confusion before he nodded towards your bedroom. “For what you did for him.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said, the emotions of the last hour or so finally catching up on you as you tried to ease the suffocating feeling around your throat. “I always wanted a roommate,” you added, though the joke fell flat.

Nico frowned.

“Sorry,” you winced a little. “I was just going to sleep on the floor anyways—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nico quickly intercepted. “You can sleep in my room.”

You paused, raising your brows. “I thought that wasn’t until we were married.”

His lips twitched. “We can make some exceptions.”

…

The second you stepped into his room, you almost wanted to laugh.

Maybe it was the rush of emotions or maybe it was the fact that after four months, some things about Nico Hischier were so predictable to you and his bedroom was one of them. It had dark wooden floors and matching furniture. It was black silk sheets and a door that led off to a walk-in wardrobe where you could almost imagine all his suits neatly hung up. It was fit for a mob boss.

And then there were the things that did genuinely catch you by surprise.

The bookshelves stocked with a variety of titles you both recognised and had never heard of before. Trinkets dotted around the room like small reminders. Photo frames holding pictures that almost made him seem like a normal person, like he was just some twenty-something year old who wanted to decorate his space with sweet memories.

It was just another one of those things that made your chest tighten.

You had been staring at a photo on his dresser—one of him, Jonas and Timo grinning shamelessly at the camera whilst they sat in some bar—when you heard the man let out a sigh. He was slumped against the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair and almost looking out of place in his casual wear from the picnic.

And he looked exhausted. Dejected. Crushed.

Your feet were moving before you could stop yourself, before you could second-guess your actions.

Nico lifted his head as you stood in front of him, his legs spreading a little wider as you stood between them and replaced his hand with your own. His eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling for a few moments before you spoke.

“Jack and Luke will be fine,” you murmured, nails lightly scratching against his scalp as he let out a deep sigh.

“I know,” he swallowed harshly. “I just worry. They have been through so much and today could have been avoided and—”

You lightly tugged on his hair for him to continue.

Nico looked contemplative before he spoke. “Did Luke ever tell you about Quinn?”

Your brows furrowed together. “Who’s Quinn?”

“He was Jack and Luke’s oldest brother,” Nico said, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You blinked. “Was as in…?”

“Dead,” Nico confirmed with a nod. “They used to live in Toronto. They got into some shit with some bad people up there but Quinn never made it out alive. Jack and Luke were lucky to make it to New Jersey.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, the realisation hitting you like a punch in the gut. His freakout went beyond just caring about his brother, it was about potentially losing his second brother. “How old were they when—”

“Luke was thirteen or so,” Nico said with a blank face. “Jack turned sixteen a week after it happened.”

“Fuck,” you swore.

“Yeah,” he flashed you a sad smile. “Fuck indeed.”

You frowned. “They came to New Jersey alone?”

“I remember the day I first met them so clearly,” Nico murmured, swallowing back the thickness in the back of his throat that made it hard to mutter out the words. “They were so young and hopeless and—” He paused for a moment. “I promised myself I would never let them feel like that again. I know what this world is like and I know it’s impossible to put that on myself but I never wanted to see them or any of the others look like that again. And that was exactly what I saw in Luke today.”

“Nico,” you whispered softly.

“M’sorry,” he huffed out, tucking his head down as he let out a sad, pitiful laugh. “You just spent the last hour comforting Luke, you don’t need to do this again.”

“You care about them so much,” you murmured as you tugged his head back, as his chin rested on your stomach as he looked up at you. “And you put so much pressure on yourself to be the one they can lean on. But you need someone who takes care of you too.”

“I like taking care of them,” he whispered, soft and honest. “I like taking care of you. The Devils are my family and it’s my job to look after them, to be the one they can always rely on.”

“Let me be that to you,” you whispered back, your thumb lightly stroking against his cheek. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He leaned into your touch. “This is enough. This is all I need.”

And it felt hard to ignore when he whispered those words to you. It felt hard to push down the feelings you had been having for the last few weeks, to ignore what you think you had known for a while but couldn’t quite admit to yourself. It felt hard to ignore the truth.

You lowered your hands until both hands were cupping his face in your palms, your eyes meeting his warm gaze, your body trapped between his legs. It was close but not close enough and you never wanted to leave the twisted embrace.

It took less than a second before you leaned down to press your lips against his.

In an instant, Nico’s arms were winding around your thighs and tugging you closer. He kissed back like it was instinctive, like he had been waiting for the moment to approach. He kissed you like he loved you, in a way you had never experienced before. He kissed you like you had the rest of your life ahead of you to live off of these kisses. And you found that you really wanted that.

“I want to marry you,” you whispered, watching his expression change with the admission. “I don’t care about the wedding. I don’t care about finding the perfect venue or getting the most expensive flowers or any of it. I just want you. I just want to marry you.”

Your thumb pressed against the dip of his dimple as he smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

His hands gripped your thighs, tightening his hold. “God, if I knew all it would take was one kiss, I would have made a move sooner.”

You snorted, trying to push him back but he just pulled you closer. “Shut up.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,” he added, but there was something affectionate in his voice.

“We may have been a little unconventional in the way we got here but I mean it,” you said, your palms still holding his face. “I want to marry you, Nico.”

“I can’t wait to marry you, baby.”

…

You weren’t shocked to find Luke already in the room, sitting by Jack’s bed where you had expected him to be since he woke up the following morning.

You were shocked to find that Jack was already awake.

If you were being completely honest, he didn’t look much better than when you last saw him, bleeding out on the dining table. But he was awake. His eyes were open, there was somehow still a smile on his face—even if it was a little tender—and he was talking, which was more than you were expecting to see.

He had been the one to spot you by the door first, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile as he nodded you to come in.

“Found time in your schedule to see lil’ old me? I’m honoured.”

You shook your head, though it was almost fond. “Good to see they didn’t break your sense of humour.”

“Gonna need to do more than almost kill me for that,” he joked, the words leaving his mouth before he even realised.

Your eyes instantly snapped towards Luke. There was a mixed expression on his face, one you couldn’t quite figure out but it was giving you the same overbearing need to hold him in your arms like you had done the previous night.

“Too soon,” Luke grumbled.

“Sorry,” Jack murmured, his eyes softening as he reached for his little brother, as he took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. Like a reassurance that he was still there.

“Well, there will be no more attempts because Nico has put you on bedrest indefinitely,” you quickly chimed in, crossing the room to stand by where Luke sat.

Jack’s jaw dropped. “What? No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” you snapped back, giving the boy a look. “You’re out, Hughes.”

“This is unfair,” Jack huffed, leaning back against his pillows and trying to hide his wince as he did so.

“It took us twenty minutes to get you to sit up,” Luke deadpanned. “For once in your life, listen to Nico.”

“Whatever,” Jack huffed. “I get jumped out of nowhere and yet, I am punished for it.”

“Nico is already on it,” you told the boy.

“If this is just going to be the same argument, I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Luke muttered as he stood up from his seat, wincing a little as he stretched his legs. “Do you want anything?”

You shook your head. “I already grabbed something with Nico earlier.”

Luke shot you a curious look but didn’t say anything before he left the room. His brother, on the other hand, was less than subtle. In fact, he was just downright blunt.

“Since when did you and Nico become so close?” Jack retorted, the pout long gone and replaced with a smile that oddly resembled the Cheshire Cat. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“He’s my fiancé,” you retorted. “I am bound to be close to him, aren’t I?”

“Oh, he so wore the white tank in front of you,” Jack snorted, only to wince a little afterwards. And yet, his injuries didn’t stop him from being a meddling gossip. “Did his plan to make you love him back finally work? Am I finally free from his two hour rants about which cufflinks you’d notice?”

You rolled your eyes. “Rest, Jack.” There was a small pause before you continued. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

His face softened. “Thank you for looking after Luke for me.”

“Anytime,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. You hesitated for a moment before you reached out, squeezing his hand the way he had done with Luke earlier. “For both of you.”

Jack didn’t say anything but he nodded like he understood and, for now, that was more than enough for you.

…

It was the following Sunday when you received the call from Jacob Trouba.

It was ironic how much could change in a short space of time. Just a few months ago you were cursing his name for not reaching out after you stepped out of that meeting room, spent nights almost wishing he would finally reach out. The alliance was about bringing the Devils and Rangers together, and yet you just felt iced out from your previous life.

And now?

Now, you were staring at his name on your phone screen and you felt…indifferent. The feelings of awe, admiration and respect you once held for the leader of the Rangers was now gone, replaced with a sort of irritance that left a crawling sensation under your skin.

You waited three rings before you finally answered the call, lifting the phone to your ear with the oddest desire to hang up and end the call already. But you were curious and you knew he would never speak first.

“Calling on God’s day,” you mused. “This must be important.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice, Rogue.”

“Surprised you remember my name at all,” you snapped back, your fingers tracing over the spines of the books on Nico’s bookshelves. Despite the fact your room was now free, you had spent every day since in his room. You didn’t see that changing any time soon.

“Don’t be like that.”

You knew he was goading for a reaction. You could imagine the scene so clearly with him sitting in his office, leaning back in his chair with a knowing smirk on his face. You almost rolled your eyes at the thought.

“Is there a reason you’ve phoned me?” You asked, straightforward and blunt.

“Always so straight to the point. I’ve always liked that about you.”

This time you did roll your eyes. “Jacob.”

“Oh, c’mon, baby.” Your jaw clenched a little at the nickname, your stomach twisting in disgust at the word leaving anyone else’s mouth but Nico’s. “Don’t tell me you’ve become all stuck up and boring over there.”

“I thought I wasn’t your problem anymore,” you chimed, fingers fiddling with some random trinket as you spoke.

“I’ll always care about you, Rogue.”

“So you called to be sentimental?” You deadpanned.

“I apologise for wanting to catch up with my best girl.”

“Not your girl,” you gritted out. “Never have been, Trouba.”

“Oh, Trouba now? Guess Hischier has really gotten into that head of yours. It’s fine, you’ll snap out of it when you come back home.”

You froze, your brows furrowing together. “Excuse me?”

“I am breaking the alliance. The deal is off the table. You’re coming back to New York.”

You scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

“I do not permit you to marry him anymore.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you permit me to do,” you bit back, your irritance growing into something more angry. “You can’t just break the alliance, Jacob, you signed a contract. You both signed—”

“I don’t give two shits about the contract or the alliance or any of it. I expect you back in New York by Wednesday.”

You laughed, dry and unamused and severely pissed off. “Jersey is my home now.”

“So that’s it? After everything I do for you, and this is what I get in return?”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you retorted.

“Fine. Stay with the fucking rats.”

“You’re the one breaking the alliance!”

“And your future husband is the one that sent his pretty boy sniffing around my territory!”

Your jaw clenched. “It was you who attacked Jack?”

“Yes. A shame the bastard is alive. But that’s what I get for sending a couple of idiots to do the job.”

“And you’re responsible for just Jack?” You questioned, something quite like dread and anticipation swirling in your stomach.

“I look forward to seeing you crawling back to me, Rogue. I bet you look pretty on all fours.”

The line went dead before he finished his sentence.

…

The click of your heels were frantic as you approached Nico’s study.

You hadn’t bothered knocking, pushing the door open with the words ready on the tip of your tongue, only to find a handful of people already in the room. You froze for a moment, taking in their various expressions of concern, annoyance and contemplation. Your shoulders practically sagged in relief when your gaze caught Nico’s.

“You already know.”

He nodded in response.

“How?”

“The shredded alliance contract left burning at the front door was telling enough,” Nico answered with a frown.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

“He has someone working for him,” Nico continued. “Someone feeding him information. From Candy to the warehouses to Jack. Someone was telling him everything and we didn’t even fucking know.”

“What?” You shook your head, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. You were in his circle for years, someone he trusted, someone he confided in. You would have known about a spy in one of the Rangers’ biggest enemy territories, especially long before he was contemplating the alliance. “No, that’s not possible. I don’t know how he—”

“Do you not?” Timo questioned.

You blinked. “What?”

“Do you not know how?” Timo continued, something written across his expression that you couldn’t quite work out. “You’re close to Trouba, no? One of his lackeys?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating something?”

“Does a duck quack?” He retorted.

“Enough,” Nico interrupted, his lips turned downwards. “We don’t know for sure who—”

“Jacob Trouba is practically flaunting around New York that he gutted Jack,” Jesper chimed in. “He has someone he trusts—someone we trust too—whispering in his ear.”

“And you think it’s me?” You spluttered out, your shock clearly written across your face. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I am just pointing out the facts,” Jesper responded.

“I wasn’t even here when half of the attacks happened,” you retorted. “I didn’t even know I was coming here until that day in the meeting room.”

“So you say,” Timo muttered, eyes narrowed.

“I have spent every day for the last four months here,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. “What do you think I was doing? Sending carrier pigeons to Trouba?”

“You have a phone,” Timo pointed out.

You let out a humourless laugh, throwing the phone towards the boy as he effortlessly caught it. “Check it if you’re so sure.”

“We are wasting time,” John spoke up, having stayed mostly silent as he stood by the desk, brooding as he usually did. “And arguing is getting us nowhere.”

“Wherever he is leading you, it will be a trap,” you pointed out, ignoring the glares some of the boys were sending you and, instead, focusing on the one man you could rely on. “Nico, please. I know him. I know how his head works.”

Nico’s jaw clenched, a pained look in his eyes that made your heart twist in discomfort. But it was his words that cut through you, leaving it a little harder to breathe as he spoke with a blank face.

“Maybe it’s best if you stay behind.”

“You think I’m the rat?” You whispered, your voice cracking despite your attempts to keep it even.

He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

…

“Not you too.”

Luke didn’t say anything, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“Are you serious?”

Luke remained silent.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” you muttered under your breath as you threw the book down on the bed beside you, a failed attempt to distract yourself from the sick feeling in your stomach when you thought about what Nico was going to walk in to. “They need the fucking babysitter! They are the ones walking straight into a trap!”

Luke still remained silent.

“Do not fucking do this now,” you grumbled as you pushed yourself to stand up, rounding the bed and walking towards the boy. You almost scoffed as he moved just as quick, stepping in front of the door, blocking your way out. “You don’t seriously believe I’m the rat?”

“I am just following orders,” Luke stated.

“Luke,” you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips. “Do not fucking play with me right now. We spent every fucking waking moment together, do you really think I would do any of that?”

His eyes snapped down to you, a conflicted expression painted on his face.

“Do you really think I would do that to Jack?” You continued, your voice a little softer and you watched as the boy swallowed harshly.

“No,” he rasped, his voice rough but honest. “But there is a rat. Someone did do that to Jack and I—”

“I know,” you murmured, winding your arms around his torso. It didn’t take much for the boy to return the hug, to find comfort in your embrace. “We will find them. I promise. And I will personally let you be the one to give them what they deserve. But we need to help the others first before Trouba gets to them.”

“How can I help?”

You pulled back, a somewhat sheepish expression on your face. “Depends. How well do your puppy dog eyes work on Jack?”

…

“Absolutely not.”

“Jack—”

“Nuh uh. Not happening.”

“Dude, come on—”

“It’s bad enough that I am stuck in this bed whilst everyone else gets to go have fun,” Jack huffed, though the pile of pillows surrounding him did little to help sell the angry expression on his face. “I am not giving you my baby on top of everything else.”

You shot him a look. “You boys and your motor toys.”

Jack blanched. “She is not just a toy, she is—”

“A motorcycle,” Luke intercepted, shooting his brother an apologetic look.

His eyes narrowed. “Why can’t you just take one of the cars?”

Your gaze wandered to the floor, slightly sheepish as you shrugged. “I can’t drive stick.”

“Luke can.”

“Luke isn’t coming.”

“Wait, what?” Luke snapped his head around to look at you. “Yes, I am. You’re not going in alone.”

“It is bad enough that the rest of them are already there,” you bit out. “I am not letting you risk yourself too. You saw what he did to Jack.”

“I was caught off guard,” Jack grumbled.

“I am going alone and I am not arguing about this,” you said, hands on your hips as you waited for the boy to do the exact opposite and start arguing with you.

And just like clockwork, he did.

“How the hell am I supposed to help from here?” Luke questioned, a crease forming between his brows and the beginnings of the classic upset Hughes’ pout starting to show. “Jack is the injured one, I am completely fine!”

“Stop reminding me,” Jack sighed deeply.

“You can help from here,” you stated.

Luke shot you a look. “How?”

“I don’t care how you do it and I don’t care what lies you have to tell but get on that phone and get the others back as fast as you can,” you said, your face remaining serious. “Nico wouldn’t have taken them all. They are probably waiting somewhere as back up. Call them and get them back here. Lie, bribe, blackmail—do whatever.”

Jack blinked. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“I think killing them would be too easy for Trouba,” you said honestly. “I think there is a bigger picture we are not seeing and tonight is not the night to figure out what that is. At least not under Trouba’s discretion.”

Luke stared at you for a few moments. “Fine. But stay safe or whatever.”

You smiled, playfully patting his cheek. “Don’t worry about me, kid. I can handle myself.”

…

“So, she was right.”

Nico slowly turned his head to look at Timo who was on the chair next to him, his arms and legs tied tightly just like his were. He shot the other man a look, his face remaining blank and unimpressed.

“Got yourself quite a wife there, Boss. Smart lady,” he continued, flashing Nico a slightly strained smile.

“Your ability to act like we aren’t completely fucked is admirable,” Jonas deadpanned from his spot on the other side of Nico. “On the off chance we get out of here alive—”

“Which we probably won’t,” Timo supplied.

“—Nico will kill you for that comment alone,” Jonas finished.

“I wouldn’t,” Nico spoke up. “I would let her.”

Jonas snorted.

Timo nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“As endearing as this whole moment is,” another voice spoke up from the other side of the room. “You are really making me regret not bringing gags with me.”

“Kinky,” Timo mused.

Nico shot him another look.

“My bad for trying to make our last moments enjoyable,” Timo huffed.

“Would be enjoyable if the ropes weren’t tied so badly,” Jonas grumbled.

“God,” Jacob growled, pushing himself off the desk and walking towards where the three of them were currently stationed. “I don’t know how that little bitch could stand you for months. Thirty minutes and I don’t know if I want to put a bullet through your heads or mine.”

Nico’s jaw clenched. “Watch your mouth.”

“Aw, touched a nerve?” Jacob smiled as he closed the distance, crouching down a little so he was face to face with the Devils’ boss. “Possessive over your wannabe wife, Hischier?”

“Keep her out of this,” Nico growled, his teeth gritted.

“Hm, it’s cute you think you have any power here,” Jacob commented, his next movement a flash of blurred colours. It wasn’t until the pain erupted in his nose and he could feel the blood starting to drip down his face that he realised Jacob had smacked him with the handle of his gun. “Don’t make me muzzle you like a fucking mutt.”

“Bite me, Trouba,” Nico snapped back.

“He might be into that,” Timo murmured.

“Dude,” Jonas hissed.

Nico let out another groan, his head snapping to the side as Jacob pistol-whipped him once again.

“Hey!” Timo exclaimed, the legs of his chair scuffling against the floor as he tried to fight against the restraints.

“You were annoying me,” Jacob said with a shrug as he stood back up. “And his pretty face annoys me.”

Nico lifted his head, spitting the blood pooling inside his mouth in Jacob’s direction before flashing him a smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

Jacob shot him a blank look.

“My wife thinks I’m pretty too,” he continued, something almost sadistic written across his face. “Remind me, did she ever think you were pretty?”

“I think,” Jacob began, the telltale click of the safety lock being removed echoing through the empty office space. “I’m sick and tired of having your lot become such a problem for me.”

“Yeah, I could really tell from that alliance you signed,” Nico deadpanned.

Jacob let out a dry laugh. “There is no honest man in this life, Hischier. You’re a naive bastard if you believe anyone other than yourself.”

“He does know contracts are legally binding, right?” Timo muttered.

“Yeah, because everything we do is so legal,” Jonas drawled, unamused.

“Why sign it?” Nico questioned, his eyes trained on the man in front of him.

“It was fun messing with you,” Jacob said with a shrug.

“Bullshit,” Timo snorted. “You just laid back for four months for fun? Yeah, sure.”

Nico glanced at his friend before returning his gaze to Jacob. He noted the way his jaw clenched, his eye twitching a little in frustration. He tried—and failed—not to take pleasure in the small signs of annoyance.

“Because the plan didn’t work out the way you intended,” Nico guessed, and assuming from the small, irritated huff Jacob let out, he was right. “Because you had to hold back and work out some things but, like a petulant child, you ran out of patience. That’s why the attack on Jack was so messy. You threw caution out the window.”

“You seem far too interested in the fine details for a man in your position, Hischier,” Jacob grumbled.

“Call it a dead man’s curiosity,” Nico retorted with a smile.

“Speaking of death,” Timo piped up. “You are keeping us alive for a surprisingly long time.”

“Because he needs something from us,” Nico assumed.

“You think you’re so smart,” Jacob hissed.

“Well, he knows how to tie a better knot,” Jonas grumbled under his breath.

Nico shot him a look, only for Jonas to shrug in response.

“I’m just saying, you can tell he doesn’t do the dirty work.” Jonas added.

Jacob looked unimpressed. “I don’t typically lower myself to dirty work.”

“How noble,” Timo snorted.

“What are you waiting for?” Nico poked, his eyes narrowing a little with determination. “Why keep us alive? One bullet through my head and you would have everything you want. But you’re hesitating.”

“You done with your conspiracies?” Jacob bit back.

“Whatever it is you want, you’re not going to get it,” Nico told him, so sure of himself.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jacob responded.

Nico shrugged as best he could in his restraints. “I would.”

…

As a Ranger, you were one of Jacob’s top enforcers.

It was the unexpected factor that made you effective. The others were tall or buff or intimidating, but you were able to get away with a lot more—call it taking advantage of the inherent and ridiculous misogyny within the mob life.

But your effectiveness and skill was the exact reason why Jacob Trouba trusted you, why he let you in on the private meetings, why he kept you so close within his circle. It was also one of the main reasons why the initial arranged marriage caught you off guard.

You weren’t made for marriages of alliance, you were made for this.

The forty-eight floor office building in Lower Manhattan was an abandoned project that failed extensive safety acts but was too expensive for the city to knock down—in the books. Off the books, it was a grey area the police tended to look away from and not prod too much. It was the perfect place for someone like Trouba—who controlled the majority of the crime and underground businesses in New York, who didn’t like any more eyes on him than he allowed.

It was a building you were familiar with, one you had spent many days and nights in for the years you stood in Trouba’s circle. You knew the ins and outs, the various corridors to sneak around and hide. You knew the exact rooms where the screams and pleas of a man would be deaf to the bustling city outside. You knew which floors were reserved for the kind of things people with weak stomachs tended to avoid.

And, for the first time ever in your life, you stepped into the building with a sense of dread lingering over your head.

Every time you had ever stepped into this building, you were indifferent. You were there to complete a job and you always did so. You never hesitated or second-guessed yourself. You went in, you did your job and you left.

Because never once had there ever been the life of someone you cared about on the line—never once had you ever feared you wouldn’t be able to save someone’s life, rather than being the one to end it.

And yet, the mere idea of walking into one of these rooms and finding out you were too late was eating you alive as you made your way in through the side entrance, trying not to take the lack of men stationed around the building as a sign that you weren’t fast enough.

At least, it was eating you alive until you were distracted by your phone buzzing in your pocket.

“You better have a good fucking reason to be calling me right now.”

“First of all, that was rude. I am bed-ridden and lonely. You could at least say hi.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And second of all, I wanted to make sure my baby is okay.”

“Your motorcycle is fine, Jack,” you deadpanned.

“One scratch on her and we are going to have problems.”

“However will I escape your wrath when you are bound to your bed?” You questioned, the sarcasm dripping from your words as you made your way through the corridors—one hand holding your phone and the other clutching your gun.

“That was also rude.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. “Why did you call, Jack?”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.”

You paused for a moment, straightening your back. “Good news?”

“We got everyone back. Jesper is a little pissed. John is really pissed but that is on Luke for lying about—”

You quickly interrupted. “And the bad news?”

“Timo and Jonas are with Nico, so you are now on a three man rescue mission—”

“Which would have been easier if you let me come,” Luke yelled from somewhere in the background.

“And he is waiting for someone. Supposedly. We are assuming whoever the rat is.”

Your brows furrowed together. “How can you be so sure it’s them?”

“According to the dude Kurtis bet up for some information, Trouba has been sending money to the rat for months. Today was meant to be the day they met, and supposedly Nico was the price they demanded.”

“He doesn't even know who his rat is?” You scoffed. “I’m assuming there’s no real name attached to the account.”

“Unless you know a Barbra Parker who lives in Brooklyn and attends weekly zumba classes for senior citizens and sometimes attends church when she wants to gossip, then no. We have no name and no more clues towards whoever Trouba has been paying.”

You let out a sigh. “Great.”

“On the bright side, Jesper did admit he was wrong for accusing you and I got the admission on video for you to blackmail him with.”

You laughed a little. “Thanks, Jack.”

“We got your back, Rogue. You’re a Devil. But if Nico asks, this was totally my idea and he owes me dinner at that fancy steak place I got banned from three years ago.”

This time you did roll your eyes before hanging up.

…

Nico watched as Jacob Trouba paced the room, the nerves emitting from him like a bat signal for weakness as he kept glancing down at his watch. He had never seen such obvious and badly concealed emotions from a man like Trouba, it was almost off-putting to watch if he weren’t trying to work out the little puzzle in his head right now.

Most of the pieces were there, but there was something glaringly obvious that Nico was missing and it was starting to irritate him.

“It’s actually quite sad to watch,” Timo commented. “He looks like a distressed polar bear.”

Jonas flashed him a confused look. “What?”

“You know, those videos where the polar bear is in a zoo enclosure and gets really stressed and starts exhibiting weird behaviours?” Timo said, only to receive blank expressions in response. “What? I literally sent you the video a few weeks ago. Assholes.”

“You sent it to me when I was down in Philly,” Jonas retorted.

“Excuses,” Timo huffed.

“We really need to discuss your hostage conversation topics when we are back,” Nico deadpanned.

“Hard to have that discussion when you three will be dead in a few hours,” Jacob spoke up, turning to finally look at them for the first time in the last thirty minutes.

“Seems like you’ve been stood up, Trouba,” Nico assumed, the amusement clear in his voice despite the fact he was the one who was restrained. “It happens to many men, you’re in good company, I’m sure.”

Jacob clenched his jaw, rounding towards him. “You little—”

“Watch how you talk about my husband, Trouba.”

All four pairs of eyes snapped towards the entrance.

You stood there, your hands holding onto your gun tightly and pointing it directly at your former boss—your former friend—with your finger on the trigger. It was an odd feeling, one you had never really experienced before. Because as much as you wanted to tell yourself you felt indifferent towards Jacob—that maybe even a part of you despised him for the way he treated you over the last four months—there was a louder, more vocal voice in your head reminding you just who he was to you.

Just who he used to be to you.

And it was so fucking disorienting.

Something quite like surprise and elation crossed Jacob’s face. “Rogue.”

“Drop the gun,” you nodded towards the gun in his hand. “Right now.”

He smiled, his head tilting a little. “You know I’m not going to do that. And I know why you’re really here, you can drop the act.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“Not quite on your knees,” he continued, his grin growing when Nico let out a string of curses. “But I knew you’d come back to me.”

“Your ego is truly astounding,” you mused, your eyes glued on Trouba. You couldn’t look towards Nico. Not right yet. Not until you had dealt with the man in front of you. “Almost as pathetic as your mind games.”

Jacob cocked an eyebrow.

“I mean, of all the people to choose as your rat,” you continued, watching as his face dropped a little as the lie passed your lips. “You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

Jacob huffed out a laugh, dry and a bit tense. “Rogue—”

“Meanwhile, you don’t even know who your rat is,” you added.

His jaw clenched a little. “I do.”

“Do you?” You questioned.

“You were always the smartest one in my ranks,” Jacob mused.

“And yet, you sent me away,” you finished for him.

“But you came back,” Jacob grinned, as though he had planned this all along, as though he was the mastermind. “Like I always knew you would.”

“And you need your ears checked because I think I have made myself very clear where I stand,” you gritted out.

“Don’t tell me you have gone soft for him?” Jacob scoffed, looking at you in a mix of disbelief and amusement. But when your gun remained pointed at him, he only laughed. “Yeah? You expect me to believe you’re going to do it? Fine then.”

You watched as his gun moved away from Nico, watched as the barrel of the gun was pointed towards you instead. Something prickled under your skin, your hair standing on the nape of your neck. You have watched that gun in his hands kill so many people and now it was directed at you.

It felt so wrong and, yet, you didn’t lower your weapon either.

“Is this what you wanted? Some noble showdown to prove yourself to them?” Jacob goaded. “They will never trust you. You will never be one of them, no matter who you marry or who’s dick you suck. You will always be an outsider. You will always be a Ranger.”

Your jaw twitched. “I stopped being a Ranger the second you sold me off like fucking cattle.”

“Rogue, baby, you never stopped as long as I say you haven’t,” Jacob smiled, all-knowing and smug. “Now, put the gun down. The game was cute but it’s getting a bit dull now. You’ve put on your little show, you’ve made your point. It won’t happen again. Scout’s promise.”

You stared at the man for a few moments, stared at the person you once knew so well. “You know the difference between me and you?”

He raised his brows. “What?”

“You’re far too sentimental over shit that doesn’t ultimately matter anymore,” you said, your finger pressing down on the trigger before you even finished your sentence.

Jacob let out a pained exclamation, his body falling towards the floor as his hand instantly went to the bullet wound now oozing blood from his thigh. His grip on his gun was still firm but before he could even raise it, you shot him once more on the opposite shoulder, letting his cries of pain bounce through the room.

“Take this as my one and only mercy, Trouba, for the man you once were to me,” you spoke, blunt and indifferent as you approached the man. Your foot was pining his wrist down, letting you throw his gun towards the other side of the room before you turned back to him. “Next time you even touch a hair on my family’s head, I’ll put a bullet through yours. Remember that.”

Jacob didn’t even get a chance to reply to your threat before you slammed the handle of your gun against his temple, knocking him out cold as he laid motionless on the ground.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Your head snapped around, finally settling on the three men tied to the chairs in front of you. You took a quick glance over Jonas and Timo, happy to see a limited amount of blood on them before your eyes finally stopped on Nico. It was almost embarrassing the way relief drowned you at the sight of him smiling at you.

“Fucking hell,” you murmured out, your body moving on autopilot as you stumbled towards him. You took his face in your hands, unbothered about the blood drying on his face as you leaned your forehead against his. “I fucking told you I was right.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, baby, you did. Should listen to you more often.”

You smiled a little. “You have time to learn.”

“All the time in the world, Rogue,” he confirmed, his nose nudging against yours.

“This is really cute and that was really badass but could you two please stop so she can untie us and we can go home?” Timo spoke up.

“Please, it’s insulting having these terribly tied knots holding us down,” Jonas added.

You laughed, pulling away to look at the other two with a fond smile. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

…

“You know, I am pretty sure it’s considered rude to sneak away from the party when the party is for us.”

“I don’t see you trying very hard to go back to the party.”

“Well,” Nico said with a heavy sigh, trying to bite back his smile as he let you pull him towards the counter you were currently sitting on. “I am a weak man when it comes to the whims of my beautiful, cunning, scheming wife—”

You snorted, your arms wrapping around his neck as he stood between your legs. “So dramatic.”

“You still married me though,” Nico grinned, his hands on your thighs as he shamelessly played with the edge of the little white dress you put on for the occasion. “You’re stuck with me, baby. I’m all yours.”

“What a tragic life sentence,” you mused, your eyes softening a little as you leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips. “What have I got myself into?”

“Hm, let’s see,” he started, puffing his cheeks a little before he let out a sigh. “We are basically at war with the Rangers and all their allies, there’s an unknown rat in our ranks that knows we are on their tail and one of my best men is still out of service until further notice. Add in the fact that we have a handful of rocky aliases to strengthen across the country, especially the west coast, and you have a pretty big fucking mess you’re walking into.”

“But it’s something we will solve together,” you said in a determined voice, your hands moving to cup his face so you could stare into his eyes. “Me and you. In sickness and in health and in huge fucking messes.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t remember that in the wedding vows.”

You shrugged. “I’m paraphrasing.”

He laughed softly as he fisted the material of your skirt in his hands. “There is no one else I would rather have standing by my side, Mrs Hischier.”

“Good,” you huffed, lifting your chin a little as the mischief shone in your eyes. “Because in the wise words of a smart man I know, you’re stuck with me, baby. I’m all yours.”

His grin widened. “And that is more than enough for me.”

Your smile pressed against his as he leaned in to kiss you again, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you sunk into the embrace. The music thumping through the speakers could still be heard, even so far from the actual party, but in the arms of your husband is exactly where you wanted—no, needed—to be.

You huffed out a small laugh, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to bat his wandering hands away as he squeezed your thighs before tugging you closer to the edge of the counter. You pulled back a little, taking in his flushed cheeks and shining eyes and felt something quite like fondness explode in your chest.

“I am so in love with you, Nico Hischier,” you whispered, like a soft confession shared just between the two of you.

“I’m glad you’ve finally caught up, baby,” he whispered back. “It’s about time people know.”

“Know what?”

But his grin only widened, the love and adoration he held for you so clearly written across his face as he cupped your face in his hands. “That my girl is a Devil, through and through.”

And as you stared back at him with a similar expression on your face, there were a few things you knew for certain: Nico Hishcier was the leader of the New Jersey Devils, he was a kind and fair man despite the world you lived in, and that you were truly and utterly in love with him.

And you knew that you would stand by his side whatever the world threw at the two of you.

For better or for worse.

Until death do you part.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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vampireimiko · 2 months ago

Text

Loki and Bucky (separate) Relationship Headcanons !!

warnings, none at all i promi

note, when i tell y'all i need them BOAF at the same time...

Loki

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Being in a relationship with Loki of all people is NOT for the weak. Especially if you have the same personality as him. Sassy and doesn’t know when to watch his mouth? Oh, you two would be menaces together.

Like, if you ever called him a "drama queen," he will dramatically sigh and say, "Drama king, thank you very much."

If you ever dare to out-sass him, he’ll just squint at you like, "Ah, so this is betrayal." But secretly? He loves it. Someone who can keep up with his wit? Absolutely captivating.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° But I digress! Loki is the king of dramatic declarations for a reason. He'll sweep into a room and declare, "Ah, my beloved! I have longed for you!" even if you just saw him five minutes ago.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ °He constantly tries to fluster you with smooth lines, but the second you turn it around on him, he short-circuits.

"Loki, you’re breathtaking."

"—Wait, what?... I mean! Well, yes, of course I am."

He says barely managing to get his composure back.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° As the God of Mischief, he obviously loves to prank people. But he has a strict rule: You are off-limits. However, if you ever wanted to join in on one of his schemes he'd never deny you 😹

He also likes teaching you magic! Not the dangerous kind, just little illusions so you can mess with people together. A true power couple.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He pretends to be above cuddling, claiming that it's one of the stupid things that mortals do, but yet he clings to you in his sleep like an octopus.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Jealous Loki is hilarious. He won’t get outwardly possessive, but he’ll suddenly be extra touchy or slip in phrases like, "Yes, my darling, the love of my immortal life, my one and only." just to make a point.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He has an unfair advantage in arguments because he’ll just shapeshift into you and mock you in your own voice. "Oh look at me, I’m so adorable when I’m mad—" cue you smacking him with a pillow.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Despite his dramatics, he trusts you more than anyone. He’s not used to being vulnerable, but with you? He can just be—no masks, no tricks, just Loki.

Bucky

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Bucky adores the time he spends with you and is so happy to call you his. He will try to act tuff from time to time, but you see straight through his facade each and every time.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He has a soft spot a mile wide for you. You could ask him to do anything, and he’d grumble about it but do it anyway. "I swear, doll, you’re the only one who could talk me into this."

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Bucky loves hearing you laugh. If he can make you snort? That’s such a win for him😭. He’ll smirk like it’s the best thing he’s done all day.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° The man has dad jokes and grumpy old man energy for days.

"Bucky, did you just say ‘back in my day’ unironically?"

"…Shut up."

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He gets ridiculously flustered if you compliment his smile. "Shut up—No, I’m not smiling. You’re imagining things."

"Yeah okay, James!" You teased poking his side.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° If he’s in a bad mood, you’re one of the only people who can pull him out of it. Everyone else gets grunts and glares, but the second you walk in? He melts.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He pretends he doesn’t get jealous, but his hand will suddenly find your waist if someone flirts with you. Or he’ll just stare at the poor fool until they get the hint.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He likes holding your hand, but he always lets you take his metal one first. He doesn’t even realize it until you lace your fingers together, and then his grip tightens just a little—like he never wants to let go.

He still feels a bit insecure about his robotic limb here and there, but in moments like these, it doesn't even matter. Being near you is all he needs.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° When he wakes up from nightmares, you’re the only thing that grounds him :((. Just your voice or the feeling of your hand on his is enough to bring him back.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He’s absolutely wrapped around your finger, and honestly? He wouldn't have it any other way 🫶🏾

additional note ! AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel rivals #marvel rivals x reader #marvel x reader #gn reader #fem!reader #male!reader #black!reader

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leashybebes · 2 months ago

Note

Oooh #31 to help distract you and also, good luck!

single parent au, my beloved! and now i'm going to bed. more of these tomorrow, hopefully!

There's a voicemail waiting for Tommy when he lands after his first flight of the shift. It's only thirty minutes old but his heart sinks when he hears, "Hi Mr Kinard, this is Stephanie, I'm a receptionist here at Central Elementary."

He covers his other ear with his free hand trying not to spiral.

"I'm sorry to say that Lila was involved in an altercation with another student - "

"What the hell," he murmurs. Lila's a little sassy - blame him for that, sure - but an altercation?

" - no one was hurt, but emotions are running high so we're asking the parents of both those involved to come pick the girls up for the day."

Tommy groans and heads towards his captain's office.

—

Buck stares disbelieving at his phone after he ends the call with Robbie's school. His baby girl, fighting? He can hardly believe it. She - alright, she may have inherited some of his more over-dramatic qualities, but she's a little angel.

"Uh, Bobby?"

"What's up, Buck?"

"I'm gonna need to take off for like…half an hour. Apparently Robbie got in a fight at school?"

"A fight?!"

"An altercation," Buck says, sounding the word out doubtfully. It sounds like a lot for a five year old. "They said she isn't hurt, but. Yeah. They want me to pick her up for the day."

"Okay, well just take her home," Bobby says. "We'll manage without you, and you know the firehouse is a treat."

"Thanks, Bobby," Buck calls over his shoulder, already jogging towards the parking lot.

—

Tommy hits traffic and the normally short drive to Lila's school takes him twice as long as it should. By the time he gets there, the pick up lot is empty aside from a Jeep, whose driver side door is just opening to reveal a tall, good looking guy in - Tommy blinks as he pulls his truck into an empty spot a few spaces over - an LAFD t-shirt with BUCKLEY stamped across the back.

Tommy gets a sinking feeling when the guy heads for main reception. Tommy catches up to him as he reaches the desk and hears him say, "I'm Roberta Buckley's dad, is she okay?"

"Oh, Mr Buckley, hi! If you can wait right here, I'll fetch the principal."

"Before you do," Tommy interjects. "Stephanie, right? Got a feeling we might be here for the same reason. Lila Kinard's dad."

Buckley glares at him while Stephanie disappears into the office. Tommy raises his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Can't believe your kid started a fight with my kid," Buckley grumbles.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd already spoken with the principal," Tommy says, hackles rising.

"Robbie's a good kid!"

"So is Lila!"

Buckley scoffs and Tommy bites his tongue. Much as he would love to right now, he's not going to start a fight with another parent at the school reception, so he folds his arms and looks away.

—

Lila's dad is a fucking asshole, Buck decides. Thinks he's sooo superior just because he can fold those huge arms over that broad chest and look away when Buck's working up for an argument. Thinks he's sooo great with the cleft in his chin and his stormy blue eyes and the stray curl on his forehead, like the jackass is cosplaying as Superman or something.

He's distracted from stewing in his own frustration when the door opens and the school principal - a friendly but steel-cored woman who he only knows as Mrs Jonas appears, Robbie on one side of her and Kinard's demon spawn on the other. He does have to grudgingly admit it's very cute when Kinard goes onto one knee to catch his kid as she flings himself in her direction with a cry of daddy!

He sets his big hands on her shoulders and looks at her seriously.

"What's this I hear about fighting, huh?"

"We made up!" Lila insists.

"We did," Robbie chimes in. "We did, daddy!"

"That so?" Buck asks, scooping Robbie up in one arm to look her over. Her braids are a bit of a mess and she has that redness in her cheeks that means she's been mad or crying or both recently, but she looks otherwise okay. He has to admit Lila's in the same condition, nothing too bad, but a little rumpled.

"Gentlemen," Mrs Jonas interrupts. "My office, if you would?"

—

They wind up taking the girls to the playground after their joint interview-slash-dressing down from the principal. Turns out Buckley - Evan - isn't so bad. Tommy can't really fault him for going a little all guns blazing where his daughter is concerned. Actually, he kinda likes it.

They'd both struggled to keep straight faces when the reason for the altercation was made clear to them - can firefighters fly? One strong vote for yes, one equally strong vote for no, two stubborn little girls both equally devoted to their dad's good name, and boom. Tinderbox.

The girls seem to be firmly over it now though, chasing each other around the playground and shrieking in excitement at having the place pretty much to themselves. It's maybe not the most effective parental response to fighting in school - 'fighting' in this case mostly meaning yelling and a little shoving - but Tommy can't bring himself to take it too seriously. He'll talk to her more later about using kind words and keeping her hands to herself, but the conflict resolution skills of a pair of five year olds seems to have gotten them past the worst.

Evan arrives back at the bench where Tommy's keeping an eye on the girls, with a takeout coffee in each hand. He passes Tommy one and sits next to him, giving Tommy a soft smile before he turns his attention to where the girls are whispering together intensely.

"Looks like we might have playdates in our future," Tommy suggests.

"Looks like," Evan says, with a sunny smile.

#bucktommy #my writing #au meme #timeline what timeline?#if it's good enough for the show it's good enough for me

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thehoneybeestings · 3 months ago

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫!𝐯𝐢 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫!𝐯𝐢 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 1.8K

Content/Warnings: enemies to lovers, modern!au, dancer!vi au, dancer!reader, implied smut but sfw, fem reader (gn pronouns used, though), probably some dance discrepancies because i'm not a dancer myself

A/N: I had so much fun writing this; Vi and reader are so sassy like can y'all just fuck it out already... anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

୨ৎ The day your mom took you to your local dance company's performance of The Nutcracker was the day your love for dance began

୨ৎ At 7, you could hardly tell the difference between The Royal Ballet and Piltover Springs Dance School; and to say you were in awe was the understatement of the century

୨ৎ The glittering tutus, the leaps and twirls; you were sure you'd just discovered what you wanted to be when you grew up: A Ballerina

୨ৎ And here you were now; not quite a Royal Ballerina, but, you'd just gotten cast as The Sugar Plum Fairy in the very same annual performance of The Nutcracker you'd seen 11 years ago

୨ৎ You were beaming, trying your best to contain your excitement as the director of the school read out the rest of the cast list, until...

୨ৎ "For the first time in Piltover Springs Dance School history, our board was left completely at a loss when attempting to choose between our two top contenders for Star Senior. For this reason, we unanimously agreed that this year's Senior Showcase will feature both students. We’ve decided on a contemporary duet, and for this piece, we've chosen Y/n Y/l/n, and Violet Lanes. Round of applause for this year's Star Seniors!"

୨ৎ Your smile drops as quickly as it had appeared on your face just minutes ago

୨ৎ What. The. Hell.

୨ৎ You'd been pushing yourself beyond measure to earn this distinction, and if you were being honest, you'd rather not have earned it all than be the first student in the school's history forced to share it; and nevertheless, with Violet Lanes

୨ৎ As much you loved dance, you hated Violet; who was now more commonly referred to as Vi, courtesy of the nickname her first dance teacher gave to her

୨ৎ She’d been taking Hip-Hop lessons at the school for as long as you'd been taking Ballet lessons, and by the time you both started taking the same contemporary dance class in the 6th grade, your instructors had already started placing bets on which one of you it would be to earn the Star Senior distinction

୨ৎ You wonder if maybe you and Vi could've become friends if it weren't for how fiercely competitive you both were

୨ৎ But, alas: the two of you were nothing if not fiercely competitive, and oh how ironic it was that you'd now share the distinction that had driven you two so far apart

୨ৎ Clearly, Ekko was loving the irony

୨ৎ "Alright, alright, Star Senior! I can't wait for this one..." he'd say, rubbing his hands together with a shit-eating grin on his face

୨ৎ "I'm so pissed," you'd laugh incredulously, shoving pointe shoes into your bag, "I’d even let Caitlyn have my goddamn spot instead!”

୨ৎ "Ouch,"

୨ৎ You'd recognize the voice behind you anywhere

୨ৎ "If we're gonna be spending this much time together, you might wanna learn to love me, sugar plum.”

୨ৎ You turn to see Vi holding out a piece of paper- the schedule for the upcoming dance season- and your eyes scan for the following dates and times:

୨ৎ Mon, Tues, Thurs, Fri- Company Rehearsal: The Nutcracker; 5:30-7:00 PM

୨ৎ Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri- Senior Showcase Rehearsal; 7:15-8:00 PM

୨ৎ You double, triple, quadruple check that you’re seeing this right

୨ৎ "Every day...?" you whisper, mostly to yourself

୨ৎ "Every day. Short sessions, so we can't really afford not to meet every day."

୨ৎ You look up to find that she's sucking her teeth, trying her best not to crack a satisfied smile at the irritation on your face, and anger pierces through you like a lightning bolt

୨ৎ “You're such a dick,” you seethe, eyes narrowed

୨ৎ She just rolls her own in response, unphased as usual; you'd never been able to get a rise out of her the way she could get one out of you, and that just pissed you off even more

୨ৎ “Look,” she sighs, “I don't want to do this stupid ass duet any more than you do, and I sure as hell didn't bust my ass for this distinction so that I could share it, so let's just get the show over with, and then we never have to see each other again. Cool?”

୨ৎ And you admit- for the first time ever, and certainly not out loud- that she's right; you just needed to get through the next eight months, and then you'd never have to see Violet Lanes again…

୨ৎ But why didn't that feel as good to think about as you thought it would?

୨ৎ When 7:15 PM rolls around the next evening, you're already spent from your first day of rehearsals for The Nutcracker

୨ৎ You're hot, sweaty, and tired; and when you walk in a minute late to see Vi checking the imaginary watch on her hand, you know the next few months are going to test your patience like nothing has before

୨ৎ “Don’t piss me off,” you spit, shaking your head as you hold a hand out to her

୨ৎ Vi quirks an eyebrow and chuckles through her nose. "Hello to you too, sugar plum."

୨ৎ You scoff at the stupid nickname before you both turn to the instructor, whose eyebrows are raised as he wonders what the hell he's just gotten himself into

୨ৎ The two of you barely speak to each other during your rehearsals; you're just there to learn the moves, and frankly, try not to end each session at each other’s throats

୨ৎ The latter is a bit of a challenge for the two of you, surprising no one, but what does surprise you is the undeniable chemistry you and Vi have as dance partners

୨ৎ You two are quick to learn every move, and even quicker to learn each other; you sync effortlessly…

୨ৎ Until, the lift

୨ৎ You could not-for the life of you- get the damn lift down

୨ৎ In fact, it takes an entire week of rehearsals just to get halfway there, and even then, it's nowhere near performance-ready

୨ৎ "We might have to scratch the lift and come up with something else," your instructor muses, scratching his chin and looking down at his notebook for other ideas

୨ৎ And Vi is quick to notice the way your face falls in response to his words

୨ৎ To know you was to know someone who demanded perfection from themselves, and it was evident that the idea of not being able to handle something as simple as a lift was going to eat at you

୨ৎ And so, she asks you to stay late that day… a proposal you immediately reject, because,

୨ৎ “I don’t need extra practice, and I certainly don’t need to spend more time with you.”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” she’d deadpan, hands on her hips, “Cut the shit. This is why we can’t get the lift down. You freeze up as soon as you get halfway in the air, and when you hesitate, I hesitate, and then I start to drop you, and all of this because you hate me so much that you can’t even relax into a lift you learned to do when you were 15.”

୨ৎ You huff out a laugh, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms

୨ৎ “Seriously?” You challenge, “Well… maybe you’re just not strong enough to-”

୨ৎ She quirks an eyebrow and gives you a knowing smirk

୨ৎ Yeah… you kinda figured that one wouldn’t work

୨ৎ “Okay… well, I actually learned to do that lift when I was 13, so it’s been a while since-”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” she interrupts, her voice much more stern than the first time your name left her lips

୨ৎ “What?!” you seethe, now kicking yourself for getting so damn flustered

୨ৎ Vi takes a step forward, and for the first time in your 7-year-long rivalry, her expression softens as she speaks to you

୨ৎ And something blossoms in your belly; something much too close to butterflies for your liking…

୨ৎ “What we’re doing… it’s not working anymore.”

୨ৎ You look up at her through your eyelashes, a pout on your face

୨ৎ You know she’s right

୨ৎ “The break-up speech usually happens after we date, for the record,” you mumble

୨ৎ And she can’t help but laugh, and you can’t help but crack a smile, and have her eyes always crinkled up like that when she laughs?

୨ৎ “C’mon, you know what I mean. You don’t have to like me… but you’ve at least gotta trust me. Just enough for me to hold you in the air for like, three seconds,” she chuckles, “can you do that?”

୨ৎ You stare at her; pensive, hesitant

୨ৎ “I can try.”

୨ৎ “Okay,” she breathes out with a smile, “Then let’s try.”

୨ৎ She presses play on her phone, the same 10-second interval that you’ve heard countless times now begins playing, and you go for the lift; better this time, but she can feel that you’re still unsure

୨ৎ “Damn it,” you spit as she places you back onto your feet

୨ৎ But this time, her hands don’t leave your hips

୨ৎ “Hey,” she calls out with a squeeze to your sides, “Relax. It’s okay, you’re doing good. I’ve got you, I promise.”

୨ৎ She’s never talked to you like this before

୨ৎ Had her voice always sounded so sweet?

୨ৎ Where did that scar on her lip come from?

୨ৎ When did she get this close to you?

୨ৎ “You good?”

୨ৎ Your eyes snap up to meet hers, and what a pretty shade of blue, and you don’t even mean to lick your lips, and-

୨ৎ “No fucking way,” she smirks, “you’re checking me out right now?”

୨ৎ You’re quick to push off of her, immediately denying such claims

୨ৎ “No! What are you talking about? I’m not-”

୨ৎ “Dude, you so are; you just bit your lip!”

୨ৎ “I did not-” you break with a chuckle, closing your eyes. “I was not checking you out.”

୨ৎ“Look at you! Lying through your teeth! It was so obvious, Y/n, I swear to-”

୨ৎ “Are you gonna keep stating the obvious then? Or are you gonna do something about it?”

୨ৎ And oh, did she.

୨ৎ Right there in the studio.

୨ৎ (And all those mirrors… really makes you think…)

୨ৎ Anyhow... it's safe to say that the next day, your instructor was pleasantly surprised to find that the lift was suddenly no longer an issue

୨ৎ You have your first costume fitting the next week

୨ৎ Your tutu was baby pink, covered in glitter and Swarovski crystals, and stuck straight out from your hips; it was exactly what you dreamed of wearing when you saw The Nutcracker for the first time

୨ৎ You'd beam at yourself in the mirror before turning to Ekko, who was already in his Nutcracker costume

୨ৎ "How do I look?" You'd ask

୨ৎ "Holy shit,"

୨ৎ You and Ekko would turn to the voice you'd recognize anywhere; and there stood a head of hot-pink hair, leaning against the doorframe of the ballet studio, chewing on a granola bar

୨ৎ "You look like a fucking cupcake."

୨ৎ Ekko would let out a bark of laughter, and you'd roll your eyes

୨ৎ "I'm a Sugar Plum Fairy," you'd correct, annoyance lacing your tone

୨ৎ "The Sugar Plum Fairy, lest I not forget," Vi would tease

୨ৎ And Ekko would think he was going crazy when he sees Vi shoot you a wink, and you smile back

୨ৎ “Pretty,” Vi would muse before strolling off into the hallway

୨ৎ Okay, now he was sure he was going crazy

୨ৎ “Wait… Y/n, is that a hickey on your neck?!”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

P.S. - so do y'all want a full-length dance studio smut scene or...

#vi x reader #violet x reader #vi arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #violet x you #violet x y/n #arcane au #dancer!vi #enemies to lovers #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #violet arcane #vi imagine #arcane imagine #arcane fanfic

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fairytsuk1 · 4 months ago

Note

ALEX MAKEUP SEX. RN. RIGHT FUCKING NEOW. ASAP SOONER THAN POSSIBLE PLEASPLEADOEKEADE WIEVEUHEEUHAHSHSYSUSY ILL GO CRAZ

makeup sex with alex</3

you’re trying so hard to resist him, trying so hard to stay mad at him because it was just so unfair how weak he made you.

alex kisses at your neck with a hand skirting up your side to feel the skin underneath your shirt. he plants kiss after kiss up the column of your throat before whispering in your ear, “‘m sorry, my love. please forgive me.”

somehow he’s got you laying back as he nibbles on your earlobe, a squeak escaping you at the feel of his teeth sinking into your skin.

“i’m still mad,” you whisper despite the way your arms curl around his broad shoulders. “can’t just—fuck me and make me forget about it.”

“oh, but don’t you want to see how sorry i am?”

he pulls back to lift your shirt and bury his face in your tits. his mouth immediately latches to your nipple and you’re letting out a hiss when he laves his tongue around the perky bud. your back arches and alex takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and suck, “fuck! alex, i—“

“shhh… let me make you feel good, please?”

you’re acquiescing into his arms like putty, and alex is grinning against your skin as he sucks hickeys on your chest. he pulls off and scoots down, hands tugging at your shorts with a fiery gaze.

you lift your hips to help him, splayed out in your underwear as he spreads your legs. alex makes room for himself between your thighs and smirks at the wet spot dampening your panties, “see? you want it, i knew it.”

“just fuckin’ eat me out already,” you grumble though there’s no real malice in your words.

“no need to be sassy,” and he licks fat stripe up your cunt with a wicked grin.

you can’t stay mad, not when alex glides his lips over the soaked cotton as he laps at your pussy. a soft cry escapes you with your heels digging into the bed; your hand drifts down and grips his dark locks as you whimper and whine.

alex licks at your soaked folds, tongue deftly dipping into your creamy hole to lave his wet muscle over your clit, sucking and pulling off with a ‘pop!’ he hums, starved for this meal as he devours you.

“ooh—shit!! alex, fuckfuck. ohmygod, alex!”

he can hardly reply, face buried in your cunt as his nose bumps against your clit. his tongue slips inside you to fuck you with it and a cry is bursting from your lips; your hips growing more and more restless as you ground yourself on his mouth.

your knees would be knocking together if it weren’t for alex, and you’re a whimpering mess as you grow closer to cumming. “alex, ‘m gonna cum, oh, yes!!”

he licks faster, fucks you harder, and then you’re spilling all over his tongue as you cum hard. your eyes roll back and your boyfriend has the pleasure of watching you lose yourself to his touches. he groans against your skin, hips jerking as he humps the bed to soothe his aching cock. he could wait, for now, this was all about you.

alex works you through your orgasm, your body going boneless as he pops up from between your legs with a glistening face. he’s ruined, eyes sex-crazed and dick straining against his pants. he takes a deep breath and licks his lips with a grin.

“do you forgive me, now?”

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackityhq x reader #quackityhq smut #alexis quackity smut #alex quackity smut #alexis quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader

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rootedinrevisions · 7 months ago

Text

Old Flames, New Wounds

SUMMARY: Years after a bitter breakup, you find yourself face-to-face with Jake “Hangman” Seresin at The Hard Deck, reigniting all the anger and unresolved feelings you'd buried.

PROMPT: "I could help you feel better."

KINK: Hate Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (P in V sex)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 @saucy-sassy-sparkly I @alipap3 I @dudinhastuff I @lunatygerqueen I @hookslove1592

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The last thing you ever told Jake Seresin was that you hated him. And you meant it.

That smug, cocky pilot had taken what little spark your short-lived relationship had and snuffed it out with his dismissive attitude. He called you “too much,” oversharing, saying you revealed more about yourself than a “new girlfriend” should. The accusation still stung every time you thought about it, as if wanting to connect was a crime in his world. You, in turn, made it clear that he was nothing more than a flirt—a man who couldn’t resist checking out other women right in front of you, even on dates. You told him off, and before he could toss another patronizing smirk your way, you let him have it, “I hate you, and I hope I never have to see your stupid face again.”

And for years, you didn’t.

That is, until tonight.

You were settled at The Hard Deck, your favorite spot at the bar, engrossed in the latest thriller you’d picked up, occasionally chatting with Penny between chapters. It was a quiet evening. The salty sea air was soothing, and the bar’s familiar warmth offered a welcome break from the world outside. At least, it was peaceful, until you heard that voice.

That same, infuriating drawl you’d spent years trying to forget. Your stomach dropped as you turned in your barstool and saw him. Sure enough, there was Jake “Hangman” Seresin, laughing it up and playing darts with his buddies like he hadn’t left a trail of bitterness in his wake.

You turned back around, pulling your book closer, determined to avoid him. You had no interest in rekindling any form of conversation with him, let alone acknowledging his presence. But of course, you weren’t that lucky.

You could feel his eyes on you before you heard his footsteps. When Penny rang the bell after an older guy made a fool of himself, Jake approached the bar to order another round. His gaze zeroed in on you, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Well, well, well,” came that smooth, too-familiar voice. “If it isn’t the woman who swore she never wanted to see my face again.”

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing as you met his smug grin. “And I meant it,” you muttered under your breath, trying to focus on your book.

Jake chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Still sticking with that story, huh? You sure you're not just a little happy to see me? Admit it—missed this face just a bit.”

You scoffed, setting your book down and looking at him, deadpan. “I’m serious, Seresin. Seeing your face again is like getting hit by a truck I didn’t see coming.”

Jake smirked, leaning against the bar with casual arrogance. “Aw, c’mon, sweetheart. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Your blood boiled at the way he called you "sweetheart." He hadn’t earned the right to use nicknames, not after what had gone down between you two.

“What’s harsh,” you shot back, “is the fact that you’re still under the impression I care about anything you have to say.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “That a challenge?”

Before you could snap back, Penny interrupted, sliding him his drinks and giving you a look that said Don’t let him get under your skin. You took a breath, trying to calm the fire building inside you. But Jake wasn’t done.

“Still got that attitude I see. No wonder things didn’t work out between us,” he teased, his voice just loud enough for some of the others to overhear.

Your patience snapped. “You’re right, Seresin. It didn’t work out because you couldn’t go five minutes without checking out some random woman while we were out. I guess commitment wasn’t your strong suit.”

The mood around the bar shifted as people started to pick up on the personal nature of your jabs. Rooster, sitting nearby, exchanged glances with Coyote, and even Penny gave Jake a warning look.

But Jake, being Jake, didn’t back down.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember you being the poster child for a great girlfriend either. A little too eager to unload all your baggage on date number two.”

That stung. Hard. The words hit you like a slap to the face, and for a moment, you were speechless. But the hurt quickly morphed into anger.

“At least I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed asshole who could barely hold a conversation unless it was about himself,” you shot back, your voice sharper now.

Jake's smirk faltered, and for a moment, something more than cocky amusement flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that infuriating grin once again.

Before things could escalate further, Phoenix stepped in, laying a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Cool it, Hangman,” she said, her tone firm. “We’re here to have a good time, not start a bar fight.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Jake, who simply shrugged, looking like he was enjoying every second of getting under your skin. “No fight here. Just some honest conversation between two... old friends.”

“Yeah, old friends,” you muttered bitterly, grabbing your book again, though your mind was far from the words on the page. The tension lingered, thick in the air, as Jake gave you one last glance before heading back to his game of darts.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

You tried to focus on your book, but the words blurred on the page, your mind still spinning from the last encounter with Jake. How could he waltz back into your life like nothing had happened, that same irritating smirk plastered on his face? The memory of his smug tone and condescending remarks gnawed at you, making it impossible to concentrate.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to shake it off, but his voice and presence lingered in the back of your mind. It didn’t help that every so often you could hear his laugh—loud and obnoxious—coming from across the room as he played darts with his friends. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to keep reading, anything to ignore him.

For a while, it worked. He left you alone, and you tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth the space in your head. The bar around you carried on as usual, people laughing, talking, music playing. But peace was short-lived.

About half an hour later, you heard him again, this time back at the bar. He was ordering another round for the guys, and you kept your head down, praying he wouldn’t notice you. You didn’t want to deal with him again, not after the way the last conversation went.

Just as you turned the page of your book, you heard a giggle next to you. A girl, clearly tipsy, leaned over the bar, swaying a little as she tried to catch her balance.

“Oh my god,” she slurred, her eyes wide as she whispered to her friend. “That guy... he’s been looking at me all night. He’s so cute.”

Curious, you glanced up and followed her gaze, and sure enough, it was Jake. He was standing at the end of the bar, waiting for his drinks, casually leaning against the counter as his eyes swept over the room—apparently landing on the girl next to you.

Your stomach twisted with irritation. Of course, Jake was back to his old tricks.

The girl’s friend giggled back, but you couldn’t help yourself. Before you could think it through, the words slipped out.

“Trust me,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for the girl to hear, “he’s not the kind of guy you want to go home with.”

The tipsy girl blinked at you in confusion, her smile faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “I mean, he’s a flirt. He’ll sweet talk you, charm you, but once you’re hooked, he loses interest. He’s not worth the trouble.”

Unfortunately, you underestimated how close Jake was. He clearly overheard you because the next thing you knew, he was standing right behind you, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh really?” he drawled. “That what you think of me?”

You turned in your stool, and there he was��his green eyes glinting with amusement, that same cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course, he’d heard you.

“You’re eavesdropping now?” you shot back, refusing to let him intimidate you.

Jake raised an eyebrow, pretending to be hurt. “Just happened to catch a warning about myself. Thought I’d see if you still felt the same way after all this time.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Still hate me, sweetheart?”

You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “That hasn’t changed, Seresin.”

The girl next to you, sensing the tension, awkwardly shuffled away, leaving you and Jake alone at the bar. He took her place, casually leaning against the counter again, his smirk never wavering.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember doing anything that terrible to deserve all this hate.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s because you’re too self-absorbed to notice.”

Jake tilted his head, a faux-thoughtful expression on his face. “Self-absorbed, huh? Are you sure you weren’t just a little too sensitive back then? Maybe reading into things that weren’t there?”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, his words poking at an old wound. He was doing it again—dismissing your feelings like they didn’t matter. “Sensitive?” you repeated, your voice sharp. “No, Jake. I wasn’t being sensitive. You were a walking red flag. You couldn’t even keep your eyes on me during a date without checking out every other woman in the room.”

He chuckled, not taking you seriously. “Come on, you’re exaggerating. I was just being... friendly.”

“Friendly?” you shot back, incredulous. “You were flirting with other women while we were out together. Hell, you probably flirted with the waitress the night you broke up with me.”

Jake’s smirk wavered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Oh please,” he muttered, his voice low, “You’re acting like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes narrowing, “you weren’t exactly the best.”

Jake’s playful grin faltered for real this time. Something in your words hit a nerve, and you could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Penny stepped in again, sliding a drink in front of him.

“That’s enough, both of you,” she said sternly, giving you both a look. “This is a bar, not a battlefield.”

Jake took the drink from her, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped back. “We’re just having a conversation, Penny,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Penny wasn’t buying it. “Sure. But keep it civil, alright?”

Jake nodded, but there was still that glint in his eye. He downed his drink in one swift motion before setting the glass back on the bar. “Well, I’ll leave you to your... reading,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll still be around if you decide you need a little reminder of what you’re missing.”

You clenched your fists, biting back the retort that was on the tip of your tongue as he sauntered away, that damn smirk back on his face. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel like the years hadn’t changed a thing between the two of you.

The bar had thinned out as the night wore on. Most of the pilots had already left, and only a handful remained—unfortunately, Jake was one of them. You were doing your best to ignore him, nursing your drink and pretending he didn’t exist. As long as he stayed on his side of the bar and you stayed on yours, everything would be fine.

After a trip to the bathroom, you came out into the dimly lit hallway, wiping your hands on your jeans. That’s when you saw him—the guy who had been hovering around you all night. He’d tried talking to you earlier, hitting on you with a few drinks in hand, but each time you politely turned him down. You weren’t interested, and you’d made that clear.

But now, in the narrow hallway, there was no way to escape him.

You felt your chest tighten as he stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker than the casual flirting from earlier.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and slurred, “you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all night. You don’t have to play hard to get.”

He moved in, his breath heavy with alcohol, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. You recoiled, pressing your back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. Panic surged through you as he pinned you there, his body looming over yours. You wanted to scream, to fight, but your body was frozen, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

His grip tightened on your arm, and you felt the walls closing in. You opened your mouth to shout, but no sound came out. Fear had swallowed your voice, leaving you powerless.

Just then, the men's bathroom door swung open with a creak, and you turned your head, desperately searching for help. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him—Jake Seresin. Of all the people who could have walked out in that moment, it had to be him.

He caught your eyes instantly, and something in your expression must have set him off because his face shifted in an instant—from his usual cocky smirk to a look of deadly seriousness.

Without a second’s hesitation, Jake crossed the hallway, his eyes locked on the man pinning you against the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jake’s voice was ice-cold as he grabbed the guy by the shoulder and yanked him off you with surprising force.

The man stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. “Hey, man, back off. This one's taken,” the guy slurred, trying to square up to Jake, but Jake wasn’t having any of it.

“She said no,” Jake growled, stepping between you and the drunk. “So I suggest you take the hint before this gets ugly.”

The guy laughed, clearly not understanding the danger he was in. “What, you her boyfriend or something?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out, radiating that cocky, intimidating confidence you had always hated but were suddenly thankful for.

“Yeah, I am,” Jake said, his voice calm but lethal. “And I don’t take kindly to assholes like you thinking they can put their hands on her.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart still racing, but Jake’s presence was grounding, pulling you out of the fog of fear. He slid into the role of your protective boyfriend so seamlessly, like it was second nature. And for once, you weren’t going to argue with it.

The guy looked between you and Jake, finally realizing he was outmatched. Jake towered over him, his jaw clenched tight, and for a moment, you thought the guy might try something, but then he backed down. He mumbled something under his breath and turned to leave, but not before Jake grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the door.

“Get out,” Jake ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I make sure you never step foot in this bar again.”

The guy stumbled out, muttering curses under his breath, and with a final glare at Jake, he disappeared into the night. You stood there, still pressed against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake turned to you, his expression softening now that the threat was gone.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice gentler than you expected.

You nodded, though you were still trying to catch your breath. “I—I think so. I just… froze.”

Jake’s eyes softened, a hint of concern flashing through his usual bravado. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and reassuring. “That guy was a creep. None of this is on you.”

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the fact that he didn’t push for more details, didn’t make you feel small for freezing in that moment. Jake Seresin, of all people, had been the one to step in when you needed it most, and it was throwing you for a loop.

As if sensing the shift, Jake tilted his head, his smirk returning just slightly.

“So,” he said, a glint of playfulness back in his eyes, “still hate my guts, or am I back in your good graces for the night?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You’re still an ass, Seresin,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.

He chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. “Fair enough,” he said, looking a little too pleased with himself. “But for tonight, I’ll take being your ass over letting that guy get away with anything.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a part of you—however small—that was thankful for him tonight.

As the night began to wind down at The Hard Deck, the bar had mostly emptied out, leaving just a few stragglers nursing their last drinks. You were still on edge from the earlier incident, even though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. You told yourself you were fine, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach said otherwise. Jake had gone back to his friends after the confrontation, but every now and then, you caught him glancing your way, keeping an eye on you.

You finished your drink and set the glass down with a quiet clink, deciding it was time to head out. As you stood from your stool, you felt Jake’s eyes on you again. He was still with the last few pilots who hadn’t called it a night yet, but you could tell he was paying more attention to you than to them. You waved Penny a quick goodbye, thanking her for the company, and made your way toward the exit.

Just as you reached the door, Jake caught up with you.

“You heading out?” he asked casually, but there was an edge of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, trying to brush it off. “Just gonna get home before it gets any later.”

Jake glanced around, then looked back at you, his expression unreadable. “Let me walk you to your car.”

You hesitated, feeling that familiar mix of annoyance and gratitude at his sudden protectiveness. “Jake, I’m fine. It’s not far—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not pushy. “But I don’t want to take any chances. You’re still a little shaken up, and I don’t trust that guy from earlier.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but something in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t being smug or cocky—this was different. He was genuinely concerned. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him follow you outside.

As soon as you stepped into the parking lot, you spotted him—the guy who had cornered you earlier. He was lingering near the far end of the lot, leaning against a beat-up car and lighting a cigarette. Your heart skipped a beat, and your body went tense as you instinctively took a step back.

Jake immediately noticed your reaction and followed your gaze, his expression darkening when he saw the guy. Without missing a beat, he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the man’s view.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jake muttered under his breath. He turned to you, his jaw set. “You’re not driving home tonight. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’ll come get your car in the morning.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden decisiveness. “Jake, that’s not necessary, I—”

“It is necessary,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting you drive home with that asshole lurking around. What if he follows you?”

Your heart raced at the thought, and despite your instinct to argue, you knew he was right. The guy hadn’t exactly backed down earlier, and who knew what he was capable of, especially after a few more drinks. You sighed, your frustration ebbing as you realized Jake was just trying to keep you safe.

“Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “But only because I don’t want to deal with him.”

Jake smirked, though the usual cockiness was tempered with something softer, more serious. “Good. Let’s go.”

He led you to his truck, unlocking the door and waiting for you to climb in before he got behind the wheel. As he drove, the hum of the engine and the quiet of the night settled between you. For once, Jake wasn’t talking or cracking jokes. He kept his focus on the road, glancing over at you occasionally, making sure you were okay.

The ride to his place was quicker than you expected. When you pulled up outside his apartment, Jake turned off the engine and gave you a soft look.

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” he said, opening his door.

You followed him inside, feeling a little out of place. His apartment was surprisingly neat for someone you used to consider a mess of a person. Jake disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, then returned with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Here,” he said, handing them to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Make yourself comfortable.”

You took the clothes and nodded, retreating to the bathroom to change. Once you were in his clothes, you felt a little more at ease, the comfort of the soft fabric and the faint scent of his cologne oddly soothing. When you returned to the living room, Jake was already setting up the couch for himself.

“You can take my bed,” he offered, tossing a pillow onto the couch. “I’ll crash out here.”

You shook your head, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No, Jake, you don’t have to—”

“Not gonna argue,” he said with a grin. “Bed’s yours for the night.”

But before you could protest further, a strange feeling settled over you—one of safety, of knowing Jake wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight. And despite everything, despite how much history lay between the two of you, you found yourself unwilling to sleep without him next to you.

“Jake,” you said softly, your voice almost catching in your throat, “can you just… stay with me?”

He paused, clearly surprised by your request, but the seriousness of your tone seemed to strike a chord with him. He nodded slowly, tossing the pillow back onto the bed.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”

You both settled into his bed, the tension from earlier fading into something softer. As you lay beside him, the weight of the night began to lift, and for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could trust him to look out for you.

As you and Jake lay side by side in the dark, the tension that had built up throughout the night refused to dissipate completely. The silence between you felt heavy, and though you’d initially felt a strange comfort in his presence, the weight of old wounds still lingered beneath the surface.

Jake shifted beside you, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place as if he couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet, “you’ve really got to loosen up.”

You blinked, staring up at the ceiling, not quite believing he was starting this now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, come on,” Jake replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re always so wound up. It’s like you can’t let go for even a second. What’s the matter? Been a while since anyone helped you relax?”

You clenched your fists beneath the covers, anger flaring inside you. “Excuse me?”

Jake shrugged, seemingly oblivious to how close you were to snapping. “I’m just saying, when’s the last time you got laid?”

You turned your head to face him, your eyes narrowing in the darkness. “That’s none of your business, Jake,” you said, your voice low but biting.

He raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Oh, come on, it was a joke.”

But it didn’t feel like a joke. The frustration of the past two years, the unresolved anger and tension between the two of you—it all bubbled to the surface.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quieter than you’d intended, but they carried the weight of a confession you hadn’t wanted to make. “The last time I was with someone was you.”

Jake went still beside you, the cocky smirk falling from his face. For a moment, he said nothing, clearly not expecting that. The air between you grew thick with the sudden shift in mood, the flippant nature of the conversation disappearing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally muttered, his voice low and disbelieving.

You shook your head, looking away from him. “Why would I joke about that?”

Jake chuckled and said more to himself than you, “That explains so much. I could help you feel better, you know?”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, the tension in the room intensifying. Jake shifted again, this time turning toward you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t—” he started, but whatever he was about to say was lost as his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken passing between you.

The anger, the resentment, the desire—it all came to a head, and before you knew what was happening, you were reaching for him, your lips crashing into his.

The kiss was messy, heated, full of everything you’d both been holding back for far too long. It was like all the pent-up frustration and unresolved feelings had been waiting for this moment, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping it.

Jake groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his touch rough and demanding. You matched his intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him harder, your body reacting to the fire igniting between you.

The years of distance, the bitterness, it all melted away as your bodies pressed together, the heat of his skin searing against yours. His lips moved from yours to your neck, biting and kissing with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers digging into his back as if trying to ground yourself in the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over.

“You’re so goddamn frustrating,” you whispered against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Jake growled, his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was even more intense, a clash of lips and teeth that left you both breathless.

Whatever restraint had been holding you back was gone now, replaced by raw, undeniable need. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head before he did the same to you, his hands roaming over your body with a possessiveness that left you wanting more.

The tension that had been simmering for years exploded into something hot and primal, your bodies moving together with a desperation that neither of you could control. The sheets twisted around you as you shifted, Jake’s weight pressing down on you as he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.

It wasn’t soft or sweet—this was pure, unfiltered passion, all the emotions you’d buried over the years coming to the surface in a heated, almost angry release. You couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough, your mind clouded by the intensity of the moment.

When he finally pushed into you, it was like the culmination of everything you’d both been holding back. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss that left you breathless.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the occasional growl of his name as you both lost yourselves in the moment. It was fast, rough, and full of the tension you’d both carried for so long. Every thrust, every kiss, felt like years of frustration finally being unleashed.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time you both collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathing heavily, the tension in the room had shifted. The anger and frustration were still there, but now they were tangled up in something else—something raw, unresolved, and far more complicated than you’d expected.

Jake lay beside you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing, wondering what the hell you’d just done.

“Well,” Jake finally muttered, his voice rough and still a little breathless, “guess we got that out of our systems.”

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