#and no one tells me anything going on in their lives i’m suppose to just know from context clues online

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right—there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

[vi0let-writes]

Alright then, may I request Cyno, Xiao and AlHaitham. S/o pranking them, you know that one period prank girlfriend do on their boyfriend?, telling them to go by her some pads with wings. To see what they actually get for her (like would they actually understand the assignment or actually got her pads with Chiken wings thinking that's what s/o meant) or even told them to buy non-existent feminine products for example "help me buy the Super Jumbo Tampons with Wings✨✨✨" that kind of stuff. This is just crack request, wanting to trick these innocent stoic guys hehe~ 😈😈😈 this can be a modern au if you want

The dividers I used are here

thank you SM for the request!!!! This is such a silly idea! There is a screenshot of the messages for each one, and then a written part below, so make sure you don’t miss that!

characters: Alathiam, Cyno, Xiao

includes: Crack, fluff

Alhathiam

“I’m home” Alhathiams voice sounds as he walked through the front door. He made his way into the living room, where you sat on the couch, reading a book. You looked up, seeing your boyfriend with a shopping bag in one hand, and a takeout box in the other.

“oh! Did you get me food too? You’re so sweet!” You cheered happily. He rose his eyebrows confused.

“yeah, the wings you wanted?” He confirmed, his face obviously filled with confusion. You paused for a moment, before realizing that he misinterpreted the request, you then started crackling out in laughter.

“y-you.. thought I mean.. HAhAhaHa! Chicken wings?!” You wheezed out.

“what..?”

“let me see the pads you got.” He nodded, handing you the package over. “Baby, look, here on the package, it says ‘winged’ that’s what I meant” you giggled, taking one out and showing him. “Here, these flaps wrap around to keep them in place.” He looked utterly embarrassed.

“yeah.. I knew that.. I- I.. uh just wanted food..” he tried to play it off.

“it’s okay! I’ll go get these put away and then we can cuddle and eat these!” Alhathiam nodded, ears still red.

Xiao

“Love” a voice suddenly appeared behind you, causing you to jump.

“Xiao! Hi” you sighed out. He fell into your arms, face hiding away from you.

“I’ve failed you..” he grumbled out. “I couldn’t find the feminin product you requested.” You laughed, feeling kinda bad.

“it’s okay sweetie, I was just joking with you! Now I feel bad…” you ran your hands gently through his hair.

“what.. why? I went to 5 different places,people staring at me rummaging through things, and being sad for a silly prank? You have no respect for the Adepti..” he huffed, letting go of you and crossing his arms.

“no Xiao! I’m sorry.. come here, we can cuddle.” You apologized. He just rolled his eyes.

“fine.. only for a bit. I’m a busty person.”

Cyno

Cyno trudged through the front door, and to you in a hurry, 3 bags in his hands. When he came bursting through your bedroom door, your eyes widened in concern.

“Cy, what?” You questioned.

“I’m sorry, I took so long because I went to like 10 places trying to find the ones you mentioned; but I couldn’t… so I just got a bunch of them, you could stack them!” He reasoned, putting the bags down on the bed, revealing MANY boxes of pads. Your eyes widened again in surprise, before you laughed.

“Cy, you don’t stack them for one, also I was pranking you..” your smile was wide. He was quite for a second.

“oh.. haha, darling, I left work! For a prank?!” He sighed. ”what? You could have said that you were working!” A frown appeared on your face.

“hmm, it’s okay, but what do we do with all of these?” He motioned to the pads.

“I’ll use those eventually.” You bummed out a response. “Why don’t we play TCG to make up for it” Cyno pondered your proposal.

”I suppose I could take the rest of the day off”

Hope this was good!

you can leave requests in the “ask me anything”

my list of fandoms is pinned in my blog.

[janeyseymour]

All I Ask

Loosely based off of two prompts: one where R asks Mel to hold her as more than just a friend the night before Mel goes on a first date, and another where both R and Mel are set up on blind dates (requested by @gwennybriggs)... enjoy.

WC: ~4.15k

One thing about Barbara Howard is that she loves to play match maker.

“All I’m saying, Melissa, is maybe it’s time to get yourself back out there!” Barbara antagonizes her best friend once again during a lunch period. The kindergarten teacher looks to you with a small smirk. She knows of your feelings for a certain redhead sitting in between the two of you, and she’s hoping that the second grade teacher will just take the damned hint. The kindergarten teacher also knows of the feelings that Melissa harbors for you. 

“And all I’m sayin’, Barbara,” Melissa says that name with a pointed tone. “Is that I don’t need no one in my life to ‘complete’ me, or whatever bullshit you wanna tell me being in love does.”

“Melissa, it’s been two years since you broke it off with Gary. Don’t you think it’s time to get yourself back out there? Just maybe?”

“I don’t need nobody- not when I have a happy life as it is.”

That is the end of the conversation for the time being, but then Melissa starts to think it over. Maybe what Barbara is saying is true- it’s been a while. And she does miss having someone to fall asleep with at night. Although… whenever you come over, the two of you end up curled up on the couch together, and occasionally you will spend the night in her bed with her.

It’s platonic. It’s just friends being friends. At least that’s what Melissa tells herself. That’s what you tell yourself too when you lay in bed with her at night and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is something more. 

So the next time you’re over, Melissa asks you about it.

“What do you think about what Barb was saying the other day at school? About… finding love and all that shit?” the redhead asks you as her head lays in your lap.

You stiffen slightly, not sure if this is your chance to say anything. Green eyes look up to meet your own, trying to figure out your thoughts.

“I mean, I think it might be good for you,” you shrug softly.

“Well,” she says as she sits up to look at you more intensely. “What about for you? Miss eternally single?”

The reason you’ve been single as long as you have been is because of your feelings for the redhead, not that she knows it. You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, letting her know that you have hesitations in your answer. “I guess maybe I could consider going out on a date or something.”

So the next day at school, during lunch, love lives are the topic of the staff room.

“I was thinking… what if we set you up with someone I know?” Barbara asks. “C’mon, you know I would pick someone good for you.”

Melissa sighs a great breath. “Will it get you off my back if I say yes?” At the kindergarten teacher’s nod, the redhead swallows harshly before, “Fine.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I know just who I should set you up with!”

“You know, Y/N and I were talkin’ last night, and she’s thinkin’ ‘bout getting back into the dating game too. You know of anyone to set her up with, Lowercase?” Melissa asks.

Janine’s eyes brighten, and you can swear you see them almost start to sparkle at the idea of getting to play match maker for you. “I do!”

“Oi,” you roll your eyes and shake your head. You elbow the second grade teacher sitting next to you gently. “Way to throw me under the bus.”

“If I gotta do it, so d’you.”

As you and the redheaded second grade teacher head out a few minutes early to use the restroom before picking up your kids from lunch, Barbara whips around to look at Janine and the rest of the group.

“I’m going to say something, and what I say must be kept between those of us in this room,” the veteran teacher says seriously. “That means nobody will tell Melissa or Y/N.”

“Barb, how am I supposed to not tell them?” Jacob asks incredulously.

Barbara stares him down intensely. “If you cannot vow to not say a word to your roommate about this, then you may leave.”

The social studies teacher’s hands raise in surrender, and he urges her silently to continue.

“You’ve all noticed the way those two are always together, and Y/N has stolen my work wife, yes?”

She’s met with a chorus of affirmations as well as head nods. Jacob puts in that you’re almost always over, and that occasionally you end up spending the night after a glass too many.

“I’ve had about enough of this tiptoeing around that those two love sick fools are doing,” Barbara rolls her eyes. “So, I am going to pretend to send Melissa up with one of my friends. Janine, you will set up Y/N with one of your friends. And we all ensure together that the two of them end up in the same place at the same time without them finding out that they will be showing up to the same date, yes?”

“Oh my god!” Jacob grins and claps his hands together in excitement. “We all get to play match maker!”

“Do you see now why we mustn’t speak a word of this to Melissa or Y/N?” Barbara looks at the excited man pointedly.

He gives a serious nod.

That day, Barbara gives a talking head to the camera men. Janine joins her. 

“When Barbara Howard wants something, Barbara Howard gets that thing,” the kindergarten teacher states. “And what Barbara Howard wants now more than anything is for those two to get their heads out of their asses. The two of them… flirting harder than Janine and Gregory were before they finally pulled their acts together.”

“Hey!” Janine gasps. “Did I only get pulled into this interview to get insulted?”

The veteran teacher just gives her a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder.

The next day, Barbara comes in with a pep in her step as she knows that her plan will soon be put into place.

“What has you in such a chipper mood?” Melissa asks as she pours herself and you a cup of coffee before the kids come in. The redhead places your cup where she knows you’ll end up once you show up for the day.

The kindergarten teacher looks to Janine, who is sitting very quietly (for once), before grinning. “I found the perfect person for you to go out on a date with.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine,” is all Barb offers up. “So, you have a date at six tomorrow night at The Dandelion.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Would you rather I change it to tonight?”

A blush creeps into the second grade teacher’s cheeks. “No. No thank you.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you walk into the room, cheeks flushed from the cool air outside. 

“Hey,” Melissa smiles softly at you. She juts her chin out in the direction of your steaming hot cup of coffee. “Made it for you already.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you grin as you go to put your lunch in the refrigerator. “I think I’m going to need it today.”

“Well,” the second grade teacher chuckles as you sit down next to her. “If you need another cup, you know you can always ask me to grab you another.”

You lay a gentle hand on her knee and squeeze it affectionately. “You’re the best.”

Mr. Johnson smirks at the camera.

Because the group has conspired to set the two of you up unknowingly to you and Melissa, no one speaks of the redhead’s date at lunch- much to her surprise. Melissa will take it though- not having to deal with the crew on her back about it.

“You comin’ back to my place today?” the second grade teacher asks as you’re packing up your lunch.

You nod with a small smile as you nudge her affectionately. “I’ll bring the wine?”

“Should I bring enough for Jacob too?”

“I will be out with a new man, so no need,” the social studies teacher cuts into your conversation. “Hopefully, this one works out.”

So, you and your coworker end up on the couch together after a long day with a delicious meal and a rather full glass of wine in front of each of you.

“So, anything interesting happen at school today for you?” you ask as you lay your head down in the redhead’s lap.

Melissa hums softly before sighing. “Barb is setting me up with her friend. I have a date tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”

She shrugs, trying to gauge how you feel about that. And thankfully, you’re able to mask your true emotions on the matter. “That’s nice. It seems like everyone is starting to put themselves out there lately.”

“I’m sure Janine will find someone for you soon enough,” the redhead tells you. “You’re a catch, and someone is bound to see that sooner or later.”

You grimace. You’re not so sure about that. And even if you were, you only want one person, and it’s becoming more and more clear to you that you’ll never have your chance with her. So, in that moment, you decide that starting tomorrow maybe you need to start distancing yourself from Melissa in order to get over this silly crush you have on her. You have to get yourself back out there without her constantly lingering in the back of your mind.

“Hun,” she thinks she’s reading you like a book. “C’mon, you’re a great woman. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re beautiful, and then when you let your personality shine through… you’re the real-”

You shake your head as you sit up. “Can we just… not talk about this right now? I just want to enjoy tonight with you… savor our time alone while I can before someone swoops in and steals you from me.”

Green eyes meet yours, filled with a pleading look to just drop the matter of the conversation. It’s clear to you that she wants to continue to try to boost your confidence and build you up, but she relents. “So, did anything interesting happen at school with you today?”

After polishing off the bottle of wine that you brought over, Melissa ends up bringing out a second bottle. You hate to admit that you perhaps have a few too many glasses just because you’re trying to drown out your sorrows about not ever being able to tell the woman next to you how you feel and that this is probably the last night you’ll have with her where things are exactly the way they are now.

“C’mon, hun,” Melissa nudges you gently after your head has hit her shoulder for the fourth time that night. “Let’s just head to bed.”

You nod against her shoulder sleepily, but you make no moves to get up.

“Y/N,” the redhead nudges you again. “C’mon.”

“I’m comfortable here,” you yawn out. “You’re comfortable.”

“I can be comfortable up in my bed too,” Melissa retorts with a small laugh. “I can’t sleep on a couch anymore, so c’mon.”

You let out a small whine but disentangle yourself from her own limbs before looking at her with a pout.

“Trust me,” your coworker sighs as she sets a hand on the small of your back to guide you up the steps. “You being grumpy and getting up for a proper night’s sleep is much better than me being a bitch tomorrow because I woke up sore after a night of sleeping on the couch.”

You nod your head begrudgingly. The two of you crawl into bed as you usually do- both having respective sides. A chill rushes through you as the wine drunkenness begins to wear off and your met with the cool sensation of Melissa’s fan running in her bedroom.

“You cold?” the redhead asks as she lifts an arm for you to scoot under.

You nod as you shimmy into her space with a soft smile. Her arm wraps around you and pulls you even closer.

In a rather bold move, instead of laying your head on her shoulder, you turn to face her with a sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa asks you. “Are you still cold? Should I get extra blankets?”

You shake your head. “I just… things are going to change if all goes well with you and this man Barb’s setting you up with, and if Janine ever finds someone for me.”

Melissa just hums. She’s not quite sure what to say to you about this. What you’re saying is true, and it’s becoming clear to her that you aren’t necessarily thrilled with that. If she’s being honest with herself, she isn’t too fond of the idea of things changing between the two of you either.

“And… I know it’s dumb, and I know that we aren’t together, but I like what we have,” you mumble.

“I do too, hun,” Melissa squeezes your hand gently.

“Can we just… pretend for tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Green eyes look at you curiously.

“Pretend that we’re not scared of what’s coming next, or scared of having nothing left?” You quote Adele’s lyrics unknowingly. “Like… if this is my last night with you, where everything is how it usually is, can you hold me like I’m more than just a friend?” You know you’re still drunk, or at least somewhat intoxicated. If Melissa shoots you down, you can blame the alcohol. And if she doesn’t, tomorrow you can excuse your question with the alcohol too. What do you really have to lose? Not much, if you’re being honest with yourself.

The way that she pulls you close to her and wraps her arms around your waist simultaneously makes your heart grow three sizes and break. What is happening feels so right, but you know that this is only one time. It won’t ever happen again. You feel warm lips against your neck, and you inhale deeply. Why can’t this dream of yours be a reality?

As the redhead beside you gently nips at your neck, just once, she too has feelings of regret. Why is it that she only wants you right now?

The two of you fall asleep dreaming about the same thing- a life together. 

You wake first, and the feeling of still being in Melissa’s arms has you practically swooning. If anything, throughout the night, she held onto you tighter than she had while awake. It’s warm and domestic, and you can smell the perfume she was wearing last night as it surrounds and intoxicates you.

You lay there in a peaceful bliss until her alarm starts going off. She wakes with a small jolt before her eyes peel open, and you’re met with her sparkling eyes.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa smiles at you. “You sleep off all that wine last night?”

You roll your eyes playfully as you prepare to pull yourself away from her- as much as you don’t want to. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hungover at all?”

You shake your head, only to sheepishly start nodding before rolling away from her. “My head is pounding.”

“Well, you know where the advil is,” the second grade teacher chuckles as she starts to sit up. “And I’ll make us breakfast and coffee, so hopefully the hangover lessens.”

As you get ready, neither of you speak of the events that happened last night. You quietly note that you’re surprised Jacob didn’t make his way back to the apartment last night, but that’s really all the two of you talk about. And then you’re off to Abbott in your car, while she follows behind in her own.

At school, you don’t settle in next to the redhead like you usually would for the morning news. Instead, you make up a lame excuse about having to do work in your classroom. You don’t even take the offered second cup of coffee from your coworker. You have to start distancing yourself if you’re going to survive working at her while she starts dating again.

During lunch, you make your way into the staff room quietly and grab your meal from the refrigerator before trying to make your way out relatively unnoticed. It doesn’t work. Of course, Melissa wants you to sit with her like you usually do.

“I- I think I need some peace and quiet,” you offer meekly. “But thanks.”

You’re out the door by the time Melissa is huffing about your actions. “Girl damn near lost her mind, I swear.”

It’s towards the end of the day when Janine approaches you.

“Janine, I really can’t today if you’re going to try to rope me into ‘saving the school’ again,” you sigh as you begin to gather your things in your arms. 

“It’s nothing like that,” the energetic woman tells you quickly. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

“Didn’t really look at my phone today,” you grumble.

“Well, I wish you would’ve. I know you have nothing to do after school today, so… my friend got back to me. You have a date tonight.”

“I’m not going on a-”

“Yes, you are,” Janine tells you in a strict, out of character, tone. “Be at The Dandelion at six.”

“Janine,” you groan. “I just want to-”

“You’ll be at The Dandelion, or my friend is going to be really pissed with me. Please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” the short woman struggles to come up with an answer on the fly. “Because you’ve been single for so long, and with everyone else getting back out there again… it might be good for you. C’mon, just one date. That’s all my friend is asking for- and then… if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”

“Fine.”

Janine squeals happily. “My friend will be in a green shirt tonight, so keep an eye out.” The second grade teacher knows what Melissa will be wearing because that was the topic of the staff room today at lunch, which you were not at.

You’re absolutely dreading this. You do not want to be at The Dandelion to go on a date with one of Janine’s friends. And yet, you still find yourself changing into a pair of jeans and a nicer shirt to go to dinner.

Upon your arrival, you survey the area, only to discover that you’re there before your mystery person in green. You find a seat at the bar and sigh, ordering a glass of wine.

About five minutes later, you see someone in green walk in, but they look oddly familiar. It- It’s Melissa. Fuck. She too surveys the area, clearly looking for her date. The redhead has no such luck, but she does lock eyes with you and give a small wave before making her way over.

“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly. “Come to spy on my date?”

You take a sip of your wine. “Actually, Janine set me up on a date, but they aren’t here yet.”

Melissa hums indifferently. “Neither is my date. What do you say we just wait together here?”

Not necessarily knowing how to reject her offer, you nod and pull out the stool next to you for her to sit on. She too orders a glass of wine, and once she’s served, she looks at you.

“So, we gonna talk about why you pulled away from all of us today at school?”

You blow out a breath. “I had some things to do in my classroom.” You can tell those green eyes boring into your soul don’t believe you, so you attempt to change the subject. “How were the kids today for you?”

By 6:25, neither of your dates have shown. The two of you are sitting together quietly nursing your wine and still looking around.

When the time hits 6:30, you sigh. “Do you think they’re going to show?”

The redhead glances down at her watch. “Half an hour late, and still not here? I doubt it.”

“What the fuck?” you groan. “I’m going to kill Janine.”

“Barb ain’t gettin any of my meatballs any time soon,” your coworker grumbles as she pulls out her phone.

You dial Janine, fully intending on giving her a piece of your mind. She picks up after two rings.

“Hey! How’s it going?” she answers as cheerily as she always does.

“Your stupid friend never showed up,” you grit out.

You can practically see the face Janine makes as she gasps out a, “What? No, they did!”

“No they didn’t!” you hiss into the phone. “I’ve been sitting here for the last half an hour waiting for someone in green to show up, and no one has!”

“No, my friend definitely showed up, I know it.”

At the same time, Melissa is on the phone with Barbara.

“Barb, your friend never showed! I’ve been sitting here with Y/N for the last half hour waiting.”

“My friend definitely did show,” Barbara’s voice is calm and steady as always.

It takes the two of you a few seconds to let their words sink in before you realize you’ve been played.

“You set us up,” both you and Melissa hiss into the phones at the same time.

Only then do both of your coworker step out of a booth with smiles on their faces. “Maybe.” They both hang up, wave to you with shit eating grins, and then head out of the restaurant together. 

Slowly, you turn to Melissa with wide eyes. She does the same.

“So, you’re my date?” she asks you.

“You’re mine?” you stammer out. “But I-”

“Those two are going to get it tomorrow.”

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tuck a few locks of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. They are.”

“Well,” the redhead sighs. “I guess we should get a table and have dinner.”

“You- you want to go on this date with me?” you fumble over your words. At her nod, you blush, but the smile that washes over your face is genuine and radiant.

Dinner is nice- it’s… it’s different than the other meals the two of you have shared in the past though. Conversation flows easily between the two of you as it usually does, before she takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, we should… we should talk about this.”

Her tone tells you that she’s not interested in the slightest, and you grimace. “I can just… I can just go.” You go to grab your handbag, but a hand stops you as fingers wrap around your wrist.

“I didn’t mean that,” she rolls her eyes. She tugs you in close, and her lips meet yours softly for the first time.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that the woman of your dreams is sitting here kissing you before you reciprocate. And… wow. 

“Y-you-” you stammer out once you’ve pulled away.

She just chuckles and kisses you again. Mumbled against your lips are the words, “I’m glad you’re my date, and not someone else.”

All you can do is smile. Once you pull away, you tell her, “I am too. I was not looking forward to going out with one of Janine’s friends.”

“I mean,” Melissa nudges you. “You kind of are going out with one of her friend’s right now.”

You shrug. “I guess she didn’t lie when she told me I was meeting her friend. I just… didn’t expect it to be you.”

“I didn’t expect you to be Barb’s friend either, hun,” your coworker teases you.

That night, you end up back at her place, and unlike last night where the two of you were just pretending to hold and be held as more than just a friend, it’s real. You are more than friend’s now- doing what lovers do. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s domestic, it’s warm… it’s everything you could’ve dreamed of when it comes to Melissa.

Your hand is laced in hers as you walk into the staff room the next morning, and Barbara and Janine look rather content with the charade that they had pulled off the night before. It’s clear to you that the others are aware of the situation before them, as Jacob can only grin and fist pump somewhat discretely.

“You still ain’t getting my meatballs anytime soon,” Melissa grumbles at her work wife as she makes her way over to the coffee machine.

“Well worth it, Melissa dear,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles into her own mug. “Well worth it if it means that the two of you finally got your heads out of your asses and are together.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie

[stuckinapril]

I’m finally biting the bullet and contacting a therapist today after being ambivalent ab it for so long… this hellsite has its many disadvantages but one thing I can say is it has truly helped me be less scared of pursuing therapy. Silver lining etc etc

[professionaljester]

trying to cope with my crazy amounts of social isolation

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + corruption kink

warnings: flirting, teasing, groping

“how come you’re here if parties aren’t your thing?” rafe currently had an arm draped over your shoulders, his hand resting on your thigh as he gazed down at your pretty face. “my friend wanted me to get out for a while..” you bit your lip, glancing up at the handsome stranger before quickly looking away. rafe smiled at your nervous antics. you gave him the impression that you’re not used to being in close proximity with men, and that idea enticed him more than he cared to admit. “do you know my name?” rafe watched your breathing quicken when he started rubbing shapes into your skin, his hand slowly moving under the hem of your dress.

“no.. i’m sorry, am i supposed to?” he leaned down so his lips were right next to your ear. “well, you’re in my house.” your eyes widened slightly. “really?! you have a beautiful home.” you smiled nervously. “yeah? you like it?” he got up, taking your hand in his, “wanna see more?” you nodded, fully expecting him to show you the pool outside, or maybe the bar in the corner of the living room, but instead you found yourself following him upstairs. “tell me..?” he trailed off, “y/n.” you answered, swallowing thickly as you two entered his bedroom. “y/n, i’m rafe. do you have a boyfriend?”

he guided you to his bed where he pulled you on top of his lap. “umm, no.. but i go on dates sometimes.” nervously fiddling with the ring on your finger, rafe hummed. “dates, huh? do these dates go anywhere?” he stroked your hair softly, tucking a few strands behind your ear as you shook your head. “i don’t think i understand what you’re asking.” your voice was small, the feeling of his fingertips on your skin made butterflies flutter in your tummy. “do they get to have their way with you?” his tone sent shivers down your spine. “like if we kiss and stuff? no.” you felt embarrassed saying it out loud.

rafe cursed under his breath at the revelation, his cock hardening in his shorts. ��how come?” he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way you shifted in his lap. “i don’t know, i just get scared i’m going to disappoint them.” you shrugged. “and why is that?” finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes. “because i’ve never done anything before.” it was like a switch flipped in his brain, and the only thing rafe could think about was stuffing you with his cock and turning you into his own personal slut. “do you want to?” his hand was back under your dress, as if to coax you to say yes.

you let out a shaky breath, blinking at him. “you’ll teach me?” rafe watched your eyes sparkle as you waited for him to answer. “baby, i’ll do so much more than teach you. i’ll make you feel so good you won’t even know what to do with yourself.” you nodded before a word could leave your lips. “you’d do that?” rafe smiled, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. “of course,” he cooed, “but only under one condition.” your stare faltered when you felt a single digit slide between your folds. “no one else except me can touch this pretty pussy.”

[pucksandpower]

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness  that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the handyman

pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader

cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read

summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.

a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant

join my taglist!

wc: 2k

You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.

“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.

He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”

“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”

“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”

“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.

“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“She’s been talking about me?”

“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”

“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things?”

“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”

“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”

“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.

“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.

He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.

He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“Should she be?”

“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”

“It’s supposed to beep.”

You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.

“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”

“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”

His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.

“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.

“I thought…”

“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.

“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.

The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.

Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.

“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”

Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.

“We don’t have any beer.”

“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”

“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”

“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”

“It does.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”

“I didn’t know they were yours.”

“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”

“No,” you admit weakly.

“Come here.”

You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.

“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”

Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.

“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”

“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”

For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.

With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.

You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.

There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.

You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”

“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”

You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.

“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.

“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”

He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.

“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”

You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.

His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”

While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yeah, I am… wet.”

“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”

“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.

“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”

With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.

Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.

A single word: “Daddy…”

“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”

He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.

But when he takes them away, you cry.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”

Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.

Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.

The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.

You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.

Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.

Euphemistically, speaking.

In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”

And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.

He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.

“Yours, daddy!”

His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.

He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.

You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.

“Did you not learn anything from today?”

“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.

Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.

[lovelettersfromluna]

Welcome to the Party

Summary: what’s worse than your older brother?…..his extremely attractive best friend

an: this Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her…..also my last Ellie fic was sickly sweet I need some mean!Ellie to soothe the burn 😌 (also credit to @absdoll for writing Ellie as someone who listens to PartyNextDoor?? That is a HUGE reason that inspired me to write this bc that is absolutely so very accurate)

Warnings: SMUT!!! MDNI!!! 18+ ONLY!!, angst!, toxic!Ellie, mean!Ellie, brothersbestfriend!Ellie, Ellie is just all around a piece of shit in this one idk, oral (r!receiving), mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, Usage of the word slut, slight degradation, there’s a brief scene with reader and Jesse but they aren’t flirting I promise Ellie is just delusional, pls lmk if I missed anything!

“Please honeybee? It’ll only be for a little while. Your father and I will be back before you know it, just in time for you to go back with your friends” your mothers voice rang through the phone, her tone gentle and reassuring as she spoke to you.

You exhaled loudly in annoyance, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laid in your bed, a soft pout on your face as you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your mother’s wish.

“Baby? Are you there?” She tried. You can practically hear the way she bites her lip, chewing on the skin as she awaited your response.

“I….you do realize that Derek is the oldest sibling, right? Isn’t he supposed to be the one making sure I’m not getting in trouble?” You huff out, still holding out on giving her an answer to her request of you.

You hear her sigh over the line at the mention of your older brother. “I know sweetheart…but your father and I just need you to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down while we’re away. I’m sure it’ll only be him and Ellie there anyways” she tries assuring you.

But the mention of the girls name has your skin running cold.

It makes you pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply as you truly try to outweigh your options at hand.

Your brother was a fucking moron, and you knew that the minute he heard your parents were going away for the summer, he jumped at the opportunity to ‘house sit’. It was almost comedic how clueless he was, your parents knowing your older sibling far too well to know that he’d tear the house down brick by brick unsupervised, especially with his partner in crime there with him.

So it left your poor mother to ask her baby (you), to stay the summer at their house, just to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.

The minute she called and asked you to go down there, your entire summer had changed. All of the plans you made with your friends at university, the trips you were to make with them, all suddenly fizzled out as you were faced with the task to spend the summer with your idiotic brother and his bully of a best friend.

As much as you wanted to say no, tell your parents to figure it out or simply tell your brother he couldn’t stay there for his break, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. Your parents were amazing to say the least, and the one time they actually chose to go away for the summer in one of the first times since you were born, you’d feel like an absolute villain to take that away from them.

You let out a low sigh before you finally spoke. “I’ll be there mom….you won’t have to worry about anything” you assured her, the sound of her sighing in relief putting a gentle smile on your face.

“Oh baby you are an angel. Your father and will come home as soon as we can, okay?” She assures you, to which you give a gentle chuckle before you nod.

“Have fun, okay? Tell daddy I said hi…I love you” you mumble out gently through the phone, bidding your goodbye to the woman before you hang up, letting out a loud sigh you’d seemingly been holding from the moment your mother asked you to go back home for the summer.

And as you stared up at your ceiling, you began to really think about it all. How bad could it possibly be?? It wasn’t like you were all kids still, there was no way Ellie and your brother would torment you the same way they used to when you were all younger, not when you were all adults in college, right?

Right?

You let out a soft sigh as you drove down the familiar road to your parents house, the street quiet as everyone there had similar situations to your mother and father, empty nesters who had time to get away for the summer.

Pulling into the driveway gives you a bit of relief, as you notice your brother hadn’t gotten there yet, which you could only chalk up to him and Ellie waking up entirely too late after a night of partying to get to the house at a decent time.

Some things just never changed do they?

Your brother and Ellie had been friends since elementary school, the two of them glued at the hip for almost as long as you could remember. While you really couldn’t stand the two of them, you had to say the perseverance of their friendship was kind of remarkable. You couldn’t take their bond away from them, no one could.

One day the house was only filled with your parents and your older sibling, the next there’s an extra person.

Ellie.

Things were fine in the beginning, the three of you would actually play all together for the most part. Sure, they would tease you and leave you out of certain things, but that’s what older siblings did. You were no stranger to the little sister treatment.

Things changed when they got to high school though.

The two of them started a year before you obviously, leaving you behind in middle school. You’d been through it with the transition from elementary to middle school, so you weren’t too worried. In fact, having the two of them enrolled before you was comforting in a way. It at least gave you a sense of belonging since you knew at least two people there.

But oh were you wrong.

Because in true teenage boy fashion, who the hell would want their little sister trailing behind them? No your brother and Ellie were far too cool for that, the two of them already the talk of the entire school, everyone wanting to be their friend. It was always like that, the dynamic duo absolutely stealing the hearts of everyone around them. They simply couldn’t have you asking for help on where your classes were, or even worse, having you eat lunch with them.

You weren’t even given the cold shoulder, they were just outright mean. Your brother wasn’t so bad, brushing you off and telling you to go somewhere else.

But Ellie? Oh she was vile.

She’d say the meanest things to get you to leave, laughing under her breath whenever you’d pass by, she’d even go out of her way to make her entire friend group ignore you for a week, pretending you didn’t exist at all.

Yeah, high school is when things got really bad.

You have up on keeping the familiar sibling bond you had with your brother rather quickly during your time in high school with him, ignoring the both of them when they were around, only really interacting with him whenever Ellie wasn’t with him, which was extremely rare.

Soon, you were going off to university, and you were able to live a life that wasn’t in your cool older brother’s shadow. You were able to be you, and thrive in a way that you really weren’t able to before.

You loved college for that.

But now you were back home where it all started, without the protection of mommy and daddy on top of that too.

You groaned softly as you finally brought the last of your things up to your room, sighing softly as you looked around at the familiar space, thinking about just how much time you’d be spending there for the next month and however many weeks.

You were almost done filling your empty drawers with your clothes when you heard the familiar roar of your brother’s black Jeep pull up the driveway outside, a familiar brunette sat in the passenger seat.

The plan was to steer clear of them entirely while you were all there. You were only there for your moms peace of mind, and you truthfully did not care what Ellie and your brother got up to for the summer, as long as it meant your parents house stayed in tact.

However once you’re finished packing and you decide to make your way downstairs to get a feel for things before they both arrive (or so you thought), you were only met with the sound of your brother and Ellie complaining very loudly as they walk in through the front door.

“I told you I don’t know! My dad said it was cool if we crashed here, they didn’t mention anything about her being here too.” Derek groans loudly, lugging his suitcase in behind him, unknowing of your presence stood in the very kitchen that he was walking in to.

You turn your head to catch the two of them walking in, your brother sighing in defeat as Ellie groans loudly behind him, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ cock block she’s gonna be? I swear to god if she tries to so much as complain about the shit we’re having I’m gonna-“ you watch as your brother jabs his elbow into Ellie’s side, trying to get her to shut up once he spots you in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes as you close the fridge door shut. “It’s nice to see you too Ellie” you sigh out softly as you turn around, resting your forearms against the island counter top, leaning your hips against the edge as you watch the both of them eye you expectantly, your best guess being they wanted an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” Your brother mumbles out awkwardly, arms crossing over his chest as he gives neglects to even greet you properly.

You sigh softly before you shrug. “Mom called me and asked me to make sure you guys didn’t do anything stupid. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are that I’m here” you mumble out, eyes casting downwards as your fingers trace along the pattern of the smooth counter top.

Ellie scoffs softly, mimicking your brother’s stance as her tattooed arms go to cross over her chest as well. “Is this some kind of sick joke? What are you even supposed to do anyways? Keep us in line or something?” Ellie barks out, obviously annoyed and wounded over the fact that your parents didn’t trust her.

You have to hold back a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as you give her a shrug. “That’s something you gotta take up with the owner of the house, which unfortunately for you is not my brother” you hum out, your tone a tad playful as you give your brother a knowing look before rounding the table.

“Your summer is gonna be fine. In all honesty I couldn’t give a single fuck what you two do, just do it without breaking anything.” you explain, your tone softer as you eye Ellie for a moment.

You had to bite back a smirk when you caught a glimpse of their faces. Your brother was shocked with the way you were acting, his eyebrows raised and jaw slightly agape as you made your way upstairs.

Ellie on the other hand? She looked like she wanted to kill someone. Here you were, her best friends little sister, practically granting her entire summer a death sentence by your presence, at least that’s what it felt like. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nostrils flared, and you swore you could even catch her freckled cheeks growing pink with the anger that bubbled up inside of her.

And to be quite honest? It felt good.

Ellie was being ruthless

While you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it, you didn’t think it would be this bad. You of course knew that they’d be upset about you being there, but your brother’s reaction to the entire thing was much closer to what you prepared for than what Ellie was exhibiting. He was confused to say the least, but that didn’t mean he was rude to you. It was the same as any other time you and your brother were with each other, you weren’t close by any means, but you were his little sister.

Ellie on the other hand? She was like a bat out of hell.

You thought when they first got there, that would be the only time you’d get a taste of Ellie’s annoyance with your presence. You were adults after all, and there was no way she’d make your entire stay there a living hell, even when you weren’t the one that had the bright idea of staying there anyways.

Oh were you wrong.

That same night, you decided to make somewhat of a peace offering. You were honest in your words to them earlier, you didn’t have any interest in raining on their parade. Ruining their summer did little to nothing for you, even if they went out of their way to taunt and tease you when you were a kid, you didn’t dwell on any of that.

You prided yourself as somewhat of a good cook. You took over meals once you were old enough to stand at the stove without your parents doting over you, begging you to not burn yourself. Once you passed that hurdle, you all came to the realization that you were pretty good in the kitchen. You could even recall certain times where Ellie and your brother would ask you to make something for them, further proving your skills.

So while they were both in the front yard playing basketball, you knew they’d work up an appetite once they came inside. You took it upon yourself to start working on something with what your parents had in the fridge.

You were far too lost in thought once you got into it, humming softly to yourself as you stirred up what you were working on in a pan. You barely heard your brother and Ellie walk in together, chucking to each other at something Ellie was saying. The two were engulfed in the aroma of your yummy cooking the second they walked in, watching as you worked your way around the kitchen to cook something up for the two of them.

“You cooked?” Your brother asks curiously, moving to rest his forearms on the island as he watched you.

You hummed softly as you nodded, keeping your eyes on the various pots on the stove. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’ll have to go food shopping tomorrow maybe…but I figured you’d both be hungry” you finally turn around, giving them both a half smile.

Your brother nodded, seemingly opening his mouth to thank you for the kind gesture, his stomach already grumbling for a taste of whatever it was that you were cooking, all of it smelling ten times better than anything he’d been eating for the past two years at college.

But Ellie was quick to cut him off, eyebrows furrowed as she gave you a death stare so intense, it was a miracle you hadn’t keeled over from it alone.

“We’re going out to eat” she deadpanned, her tone firm and harsh.

It makes you turn around fully after lowering all the spots on the stove, grabbing the kitchen towel you kept nearby and drying your hands off, your hips resting against the kitchen counter as you watched them.

Your brother frowned as he looked up at Ellie in confusion, the man clearly not have gotten the memo.

“We…are?….but you were just saying how tired-“ He mumbled out softly before Ellie landed a hard jab to his side with her elbow, making your brother quickly shut his mouth, getting her message loud and clear.

Ellie didn’t want anything from you.

You inhaled deeply, fighting back the urge to stoop down to her level, no matter how much it stung that she was doing this out of spite, simply over something that was asked of you.

“That’s…that’s fine. I hope you guys have fun” you gave them a nod and a soft smile before you turned around to continue working on the food that you’d be eating alone.

Ellie’s angry expression softened into a frown when you didn’t fight back, fully expecting you blow up and make her seem like the victim who’s getting her summer ruined by some fucking she-demon or something. But you didn’t, you simply bid them a good time and turned around to busy yourself with whatever you were doing.

Your brother frowned as he watched you turn around, already feeling bad for not only leaving you alone for the night, but making you eat alone felt even worse.

But Ellie was already scoffing, mumbling softly to your brother to come upstairs with her so they could get changed and leave so they could get something to eat, her eyes lingering on you angrily as she stomped upstairs like a child.

You spent that night alone, eating your dinner with a glass of wine, showering and watching a movie downstairs, silently hoping the pair would have a change of heart and walk through to spend the night with you, acting as a way to kick off the summer on a better note than it was already starting off on.

But they never did. You ended up doing all of that and more and they still didn’t get home. You decided to simply send your brother a quick text letting them know you’d leave the porch light on and to get home safe before you went to bed.

That wasn’t the end of Ellie’s little scheme of being terrible to you. No, that was honestly only the beginning.

The second time of her being mean was about a week later. You managed to stay clear of the both of them for a few days, busying yourself with getting the house situated for yours, Ellie and your brothers stay. You got a good amount of things done, groceries, laundry, getting your car through the car wash. You even picked up a dozen bagels from yours and your brother’s favorite bakery in the city nearby, knowing how much him and Ellie would appreciate them for breakfast, even if you knew she’d bitch once she knew you bought them.

But once all of those chores were done, you found that you’d started to run out of things to keep you occupied. There was no more laundry to do, no more groceries to buy, nothing more for you to tend to that would keep you away from the house.

You were bored out of your mind.

You sighed softly as you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling as you toyed with the hem of your denim shorts. You were contemplating what to do, how to entertain yourself in the confides of your bedroom. It was hard because Ellie and Derek spent almost all of their time in the living room, leaving you to either do things outside of the house, or stay in your room.

It made you sad, because you wouldn’t have this problem had you stayed at Uni. You would’ve been outside with your friends, at parties, restaurants, bars. Anything that there was to offer in the city, you’d be there.

Another huff passed through your lips, your arms moving down to rest against your pillow. You were beginning to get desperate, your mind void of any ideas to keep yourself occupied.

You sat up, looking towards your door for a moment before you looked back down at your hands in your lap, your mind falling deep in thought before you finally let out a sigh. You felt ridiculous, forcing yourself to be a prisoner in your own home for your own comfort. Ellie didn’t even fucking live here, this was your parents house and you deserved to walk around as you pleased!

So you finally tossed your legs over the edge of your bed, and opened your door to go downstairs.

The second your room door was open, you could hear Derek and Ellie downstairs, the two of them laughing and shouting at each other. As you walked down the stairs, you could hear the sounds of their video game playing through the speakers, paired with the sound of their fingers harshly clicking down on the buttons of their game controllers.

Video games sounded fun.

You hummed softly as you watched them from the bottom of the stairs for a moment before you walked into the living room, simply watching the two hunched over, completely locked in on their current match.

“Don’t fuckin’ push by yourself you’re gonna die. Lemme just heal really quick” you hear Ellie groan out to your brother.

“I’m good! I’m good I got this” your brothers words follow, a blanket of silence falls between the two of them, only to hear your brother and Ellie groan loudly in unison, followed by Ellie sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“I told you not to fucking-“ her words are cut short when she notices you in the corner of her eye, the girl deflating as she slouches back into the couch, her eyes back on the screen.

“Great…” she mumbles out, which you try your best to ignore before taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you nod towards the tv.

“How many have you guys won so far?” You hum out softly.

Your brother’s eyes don’t leave the tv screen as he responds, fingers already clicking away at his controller the second Ellie managed to resurrect him in the game. “A good amount…especially when Ellie’s here to save my ass” he grins out, which earns an annoyed sigh from Ellie.

You hum softly as you nod, watching as their characters run around on the split screen, the two of them looting and taking out other players as the number of people in the game grows lower and lower, waiting until the game was almost over.

“Could you guys use a third?” You ask softly after clearing your throat, eyes still glued to the screen as you watch them play.

Derek licks his lips as he continues playing, his eyes quickly shifting over to Ellie for a moment to gauge her reaction to your question before he responds.

You and him would play video games all the time together, and there were even times where all three of you would play together. Sure, they’d do petty shit like leave your character in the storm to die when you needed help or made sure your controller was close to dying, but they’d at least let you play from time to time.

However, Ellie was quick to speak up and give you a response.

“No. You’re shit at this game” Ellie quickly responds, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on the game.

While you can tell she’s not joking, her words make your brother chuckle softly as he gives her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure one game is fine? Watching her play will be kind of funny to be honest” he tried, yet Ellie wouldn’t budge.

She shook her head firmly. “Nah. She’s gonna fuck up our winning streak. Weren’t you upstairs anyway? Why did you even come down here….go back up” her eyes finally break away from the screen once the game was finished, looking over at you and nodding her head up towards the stairs.

And while Ellie would sometimes chase you away when she was over, it was always in good fun. Sure she was a dick to you but this?

This was so different.

It makes you choke up a bit, eyes widening at her words before you look at your brother, silently begging for him to defend you from the girls mean words.

But he doesn’t, he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes and grabbing his own phone to scroll through it so he wouldn’t have to be put into the awkward situation of getting between his sister and his best friend.

It makes you inhale deeply before you silently get up from the couch, slip past the two of them, and make your way back upstairs like Ellie told you to, your throat burning with hot tears as you tried your best to hide them from the pair on the couch.

Your brother finally looked up when you slipped passed the two of them, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he eyed Ellie. “I know she’s annoying but…that was kind of fucked up man” he mumbles out softly, his eyes lingering on Ellie for a moment only to watch her shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Shut up. She wouldn’t leave unless I was mean…” she mumbled out nonchalantly, which makes your brother sigh softly, turning his head back to the screen and starting another game.

You realized that this wasn’t a game. This was Ellie being awful to you for the sole fact that you were staying there and being a ‘cock block’, and in her book? That was more than enough of a reason to take her anger out on you.

It made you take one look at your bedroom when you finally got upstairs, tears in your eyes, when you realized that you had to get quite comfortable there, seeing as you’d be spending far more time locked up than you thought you would have.

You managed to avoid Ellie and your brother for the remainder of the week, for real this time. You had no interest in being around them or spending any time with them, not since Ellie made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you were the bane of her very existence.

You decided that they could spend their summer like they wanted to, without you there.

Any time you needed something from downstairs, you’d either go and get it extremely early in the morning or late enough at night so that they wouldn’t be there, which was hard sometimes since they’d spend almost the entire night downstairs, drinking beers and eating snacks until they were too tired to go in anymore.

Tonight was different though.

Because tonight was the first Saturday of the summer, which meant anyone and everyone was looking towards your brother and Ellie for a party to kick things off. You knew they’d do it of course, but you knew it was actually happening once you could hear the faint noise of the two of them setting up downstairs, paired with the roaring sound of your brothers Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway, making multiple runs to the store for last minutes things for the party.

And your plan for the night? You were going to shower early to avoid any awkward drunk run-ins, take a melatonin, lock your room door, and fall asleep with your noise canceling headphones underneath a mountain of blankets. While it would be nice to let loose and party for a night, you wouldn’t dare even ask them if you could attend, already knowing Ellie would have quite the mean words in store if you tried that.

On the bright side, this all meant you were responsible for the clean up in the morning.

You let out a soft sigh as you tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t shirt, moving to grab your bottle of melatonin gummies before you moved to sit on the bed, wanting to wind down a bit before bed.

Right as you were about to take your vitamin and lock your door though, you heard a gentle knock, making you frown as you looked over at it. Surly the party hadn’t started yet? Did you seriously have to put a note on your door to alert drunk idiots that your room was off limits for hook ups?

You frowned before calling out. “Go away! There are other rooms!” You called out loud enough, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the memo.

Instead, you hear the knob turn, the door creaking open as your brother peaks his head in, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh…I thought you were some idiot party-goer” you explain as you scrunch your nose at the mere thought of it before you unscrew the top to your bottle. “What are you doing here? You have a party to host” you explain before you look up at him, only to find his eyes wandering your bedroom before he shrugs.

“Wanted to check on you…make sure you’re okay” he explains before he finally looks down at you, nodding towards the bottle of melatonin in your hand. “Going to bed already?” He asks, which you nod to.

“Yup…trying to get a heard start before the noise sets in” you hum out softly before you bring one of the gummies to your lips.

Your brother quickly speaks up before you can take it. “You should come down…for a little bit. It’ll be fun” he quickly gets out before you eat it. He knew the moment you took it, you’d be lulled away to sleep, and there was no chance in him reconciling with you tonight.

Because in all honesty, he felt horrible for the way Ellie had been treating you. Not only did he fear you’d tell your parents (he knew you wouldn’t), but he also felt like he was being a shit big brother for not standing up for you, even if he knew that you knew it was a tricky situation since Ellie was his best friend.

Your shoulders slump at his words, giving your brother an unamused look.

“Your friend wouldn’t even let me play video games with you. Do you seriously think she’d allow me to come down tonight l?” You groan out softly before you shake your head, bringing the gummy to your lips once again. “I’m gonna go to bed. I don’t have time for either of you” you sigh softly.

Your eyes widen when your brother steps forward and slaps the gummy from your hand. “What the hell Derek??” You shriek out, which only makes him groan in annoyance.

“It’ll be fun! And Ellie will be too drunk or high or both to even notice you’re there…” he whines out like a child, which makes you roll your eyes.

A blanket of silence falls between the both of you as you think about it, weighing out the pros and the cons of going downstairs and joining everyone, risking the chance of Ellie blowing up on you the second she sees you there, assuming you’re attending for the sole purpose of shutting down her fun.

Derek sighs softly as he moves to sit down next to you on your bed. “I’ve been a shitty older brother…and you deserve to have fun this summer too” he hums out softly before he leans over, nudging your shoulder gently with his.

“Come on…it’ll be fun” he urges once more, and it reminds you of when you were both kids, your brother slowly turning into the person that you recognized rather than the person he was whenever he was around Ellie or his other friends.

You finally sigh out softly before looking over at him, giving him a slight nod. “I’ll change and come down once I hear the music start playing…I’m sure that gives her enough time to get her drunk goggles on” you hum out playfully as you refer to Ellie.

Your brother smiles brightly, his mimicking your own before he nods. “You’re gonna have fun” he affirms once more before he gets up to leave your bedroom, closing the door behind him so he could get downstairs and finish setting up.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at your clothes, frowning at the faded band t shirt paired with the frayed ends of your old sleep shorts.

You needed to change.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the faint sound of the loud music booming through the house, paired with the various cars that slowly started piling up in your driveway and along the side of the ride in front of your house, the party guests making their way to your place like clockwork.

You had changed into a pair of baggy blue jeans that hung low on your waist, and a simple white tank top hugged your curves in a way that looked like you put in way more effort that you actually did, wanting to keep things comfortable enough that you could slip out of it the second you wanted to dessert the place for the safe haven that was your bedroom.

The party was in fully swing by the time you made your way downstairs, a person filling up everyone single space as music blasted loudly throughout the entire place. You inhaled deeply, slipping past the growing sea of people to get to the kitchen, and get a drink.

Your eyes scanned the space as you stayed leaned up against the counter, red solo cup pressed against your lips as you babysat the mixture of liquid and soda, people watching as everyone around you became acquainted with one another, your drink making you grow warmer and warmer with each passing second.

Like a stroke of luck, you catch an empty spot on the once full couch. It makes you sigh in relief, once again slipping past the bodies in your house to catch it before someone else does, which you thankfully do. You plop down onto it, bringing your cup to your lips as you rest your head against the back of the couch.

You didn’t even realize how drunk you were until Jesse, one of your brother’s old friends plops down next to you with a loud sigh. The second he was next to you, the strong smell of weed was filling up your lungs, you swore you felt the tiniest bit high from the smell alone.

“If I so much as smell a blunt, your tv is gonna grow legs and start walking away” he groaned out, making you stifle a laugh.

The sound catches his attention, the man turning his head to look at you, his hazy expression slowly tugging into a smile.

“Nooo way. I remember you! You’re Derek’s little sister” he gasps out, which makes you hold back a laugh before you nod.

“I am in fact his sister” you confirm.

To be frankly honest, you’d known Jesse since high school. He was pretty close with Ellie and Derek, he was actually the only one out of the group of gremlins that was actually kind to you whenever they were all around. However he was currently so far gone, he could barely remember that you two already knew each other.

“Maaan I haven’t seen you in so long! He didn’t tell me you’d be here” he chuckles softly, bringing his hands to his face as he groans softly.

“I’m…I’m sorry I’m so high right now. I can barely think” he apologizes, the man visibly melting into the couch as he lets his hands fall down beside him, staring off into space.

You giggle softly as you shake your head, bringing your cup to your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “You’re fine Jesse…the companies nice” you nod before you rest your head back against the back of the couch, allowing Jesse to carry on with his belligerent complaints.

You were so consumed with Jesse’s rather entertaining word vomit, that you barely noticed a certain someone eyeing you from the other side of the couch.

Ellie had been there the entire time, too high and too drunk (like your brother said she’d be) to even notice you had taken a spot at the end of the couch. It also didn’t help that she had her current summer fling splayed across her lap, her lips pressed to the girls mouth as they practically swallowed each other’s faces whole.

And she wouldn’t have noticed you either, had it not been for the familiar sound of your giggle ringing through her ear, barely audible over the sound of the loud music booming through the house.

At first she thought she was hearing things, ignoring the noise and carrying on with working her tongue against the girl’s against her. However the second time she heard it, it was paired with a low groan that she could only recognize as Jesse’s, and once she heard that? She had no choice but to break her lips away from the girls, instead allowing her to work her lips against her neck.

The image of your head resting against the back of the couch, looking up at Jesse as his face seemingly lays inches away from yours, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, the edge of your solo cup resting against your pouty bottom lip as you listen intently at whatever Jesse is saying…

Makes Ellie want to punch a fucking hole in the wall.

Because what the fuck is Jesse doing talking to Derek’s little sister? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to make you laugh that way when everyone knows you’re off limits? The unspoken rule being something everyone had to follow…

No matter how pretty you got as you grew up.

Ellie suddenly can’t pay any attention to the pretty girl on her lap, her grip on the girls hips tightening with anger as she watches you smile lazily at Jesse, the drink in your cup clearly making you far too soft and pliable to be talking to someone like Jesse.

There’s suddenly a fire burning in her, one that begs for you to look up and see what she’s doing, see that she has a girl on her lap that isn’t you. She wants you to see her kissing the girl, gripping her hips and positioning her however she pleases.

Ellie feels the need to make you jealous

But you never do. Ellie watches the both of you for what feels like an eternity, and you don’t once look up and lock eyes for her, not even for a second. She’s sure you’re obvious to the fact that she’s even there, far too consumed with whatever the fuck it was that Jesse was telling you, which couldn’t be anything good of course, it was Jesse of all people.

The girl on her lap is getting antsy, tugging at the bottom of Ellie’s shirt, slipping her hand underneath it to run along the skin of her hips, lips itching up her skin to get back to Ellie’s mouth, anything to have the attention that has suddenly been locked into something else.

Ellie doesn’t budge of course, her stone cold gaze stuck on you across the chair, a few feet away from her as Jesse chats you up,

She doesn’t even know why she’s staring. She can’t pin point why seeing you do something as simple as talk to someone else makes her blood boil to the point where she feels fucking light headed. All she knows is that she can’t take her eyes off of you, not when your attention is so dead set on someone else.

The girl on Ellie’s neck whines softly, her hand coming up to grip Ellie’s chin, pulling her down to finally lock lips with her. It makes Ellie groan, and to the girl it probably sounded like a groan of approval, a sign that Ellie liked that she was taking what she wanted from her. In reality, it was Ellie being fucking annoyed.

Ellie kisses her hard, trying her best to shut her up and keep her satisfied so she can break away and keep an eye on you.

You sigh softly, lifting your head a bit to turn and look down into your cup, noticing it had become empty in the span of talking to Jesse. While doing that, you realized how drunk you had gotten from the drink you made, a lazy giggle leaving your lips as you shook your head towards Jesse.

“I’m…way too drunk…I need to go to bed” you sigh out, resting your hand Jesse’s thigh as you give him a gentle pat. “Try to sober up before you go home if you do end up leaving….was nice seeing you Jesse” you smile at him, only receiving a soft groan of agony before he lazily waved you off, making you giggle softly before you got up off the couch, stumbling a bit before making your way around it to go upstairs.

As you round the corner, oblivious to Ellie’s presence, you don’t at all notice the way her eyes trail your path even as her lips work angrily against the girl in her lap.

Or the way she breaks the kiss once you’re out of view, pushing the girl off her lap as her legs begin carrying her up to follow you. “I’ll be right back…” she mumbles out to the girl, completely ignoring the way she scoffs once she realizes Ellie was following another girl.

She slips past the crowd of people as she trails close behind you, watching as you fail to even realize the way certain eyes follow your path, eyes that don’t belong to her, eyes that have filthy thoughts behind them, only fueling her anger further.

It’s like a shark stalking their prey. You’re a dumb, innocent little fish with not a care in the world, happily swimming around other little seat creatures as an apex predator slowly sticks onto your tail, following you to your demise. You’re bouncing around, giggling softly as you stumble over your own feet, so stupid from the liquor you had, you’d barely even noticed Ellie was following you.

Soon, you’re up the stairs and in front of your bedroom door. You reached up, standing on your toes to get to the little key you left on the top of your door after you locked it before going downstairs, ensuring no one would so much as think to use your bed as a hook up station.

You opened it up, sighing softly as you closed it behind you, moving over to your drawer to grab the pajamas you had folded earlier, wanting nothing more to change into them and get some much needed sleep now that the alcohol had settled in and warmed up your entire system.

Ellie hears you humming softly to yourself as she opens up your door. She isn’t even entirely sure what her motive is with this, why she felt the need to follow you all the way up to your room, and to on top of that walk in. It wasn’t like you were in any sort of danger, you weren’t out on the street late at night all alone, or even at a party at a strangers house. You were a smart girl, even going as far as to lock your door before and after leaving to go downstairs.

Not smart enough to lock it before Ellie could come in though.

You frown softly when you hear your door open, fully prepared to start screaming for your brother the second some creep tried to come in to your room.

You don’t have to though, because the second you realize that it’s Ellie standing at your door and not some fucking weirdo, you let out a small sigh of relief.

Which quickly turns into panic once you realize that it’s Ellie standing in your doorway.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You question the girl, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out a soft sigh.

You can hear it already, the way Ellie is gearing up to degrade and berate you for even thinking it was okay to come out of your room and down to the party. You mentally prepare yourself for the nasty things she’ll say, for the way she’ll go above and beyond to ensure you never even think to come down and attend another one of hers and your brothers parties ever again.

But she doesn’t speak, not immediately at least.

You watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, tattooed forearms making her look all the more intimidating. Her eyes roam your bedroom as she slowly steps in to take in more of the space after she closes your door behind her.

“It’s nice in here…you should’ve stayed put…would have worked out better for you” she hums out, her tone a bit too casual for the bite that her words manage to get out of you.

It makes you sigh softly, bringing your hand up to rub against your forehead before you speak up. “It was Derek’s idea, okay? And I was barely even down there. I didn’t even talk to anyone” you explain to the girl.

She raises her eyebrows, green eyes settling on you as she watches you in surprise.

“Didn’t talk to anyone hm? Then what the fuck were you doing with Jesse? Huh?” She barks out, the level of her voice making you flinch.

If you were confused before, this has you in shambles. Your frown deepens as your eyebrows furrow, watching the girl before you quickly speak up to defend yourself.

“With Jesse? Ellie I…we talked for maybe thirty minutes? And all he was telling me was how much he was greening out I…are you serious right now??” You shriek out, watching as the girl slowly made her way towards you.

She ignores your explanation. “Do you know how fucking desperate you look? Clinging on to mine and Derek’s friends?” She spits out, her tone growing angrier and more vile with each word she utters.

And she’s getting closer to you the more she speaks too.

“It’s fuckin’ pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. Don’t you get tired of this? Isn’t this boring to you?” She questions, tone dripping with annoyance and anger as she keeps going, keeps pushing you.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this. She’s fuming with something you don’t recognize and it makes your eyes widen, lips parting slightly as you try to find the words to say before they quickly close once she continues on with her nasty words.

That’s wide eyed look on your face lights a fire under Ellie that tells her to keep going.

She’s right in front of you now, her nose inches away from yours as she lets out an unamused chuckle, a soft smirk on her face.

“You’re such a fucking slut…you know that? Begging for attention from your brother’s friends….” She hums out softly, her pink tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips slowly. You can barely stop yourself from your eyes shifting down to watch the way she does it, only earning a soft chuckle from the girl.

“Did you go to him because you saw I was busy baby? Is that it?” Her tone is still taunting you, but it’s softer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly you feel her strong hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you slowly but harshly against her body, making you gasp softly at the sudden and foreign feeling of her body pressed against yours, all of it consuming you too much to even register what it was she was accusing you of.

Her eyes are taking in your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, as if she were silently begging you for something you couldn’t completely give her, something more.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask” she sighs out softly.

And it’s like you aren’t even there anymore, because once she says that, her lips are pressed against yours in a hot, needy kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of her lips on yours. For a minute you even questioned if you were dreaming, because surly there was no world where this would be happening, one in which Ellie would be kissing you.

You gasped out softly, trying to break away from the girl to ask what exactly it was that she was doing, but she only takes this as an advantage to slip her tongue into your mouth.

The feeling of her wet tongue against yours has you melting, your eyes fluttering shut as suddenly any and all questions and concerns you previously had disappear from your head, the only thought present being how good it felt to have Ellie kissing you.

You finally get a moment to speak when you feel Ellie break the kiss so that her lips could trail down your throat, licking and sucking your skin as her hands grip your hips tightly, fingers rubbing against the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans.

“Ellie…what are you…” you manage to get out between moans, enjoying the feeling of the means girls lips against your throat far too much.

“Shut up…just shut the fuck up…” her words are muffled against your skin.

You can feel her walking you back towards your bed, allowing her to push you back onto it and crawl over your body once you’re both there. That’s when her lips attach themselves back onto yours, her hand coming down to skillfully unbutton your jeans, which gives her a chance to cup your pussy, feeling your arousal soaked panties.

She smirks against your lips, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit as she gives you a hum of approval.

“Wet already? Over one little kiss? God that’s pathetic…” she chuckles out softly as she degrades you for it, which somehow only sends more warmth shooting down your core.

“It’s alright baby…I’ll take care of you..” she hums softly against your lips before she starts kissing down your body.

Her lips swirl your nipples over the fabric of your tank top, the material growing wet with her saliva. It’s strange because the feeling is almost more erotic than if she were to do it with your top off. Maybe it’s how eager she is for it? For whatever it was she was planning on doing to you?

You had no idea. But you knew it felt good.

She does this until she’s settled between your legs, your denim jeans already long gone, her eyes zeroed in on the growing damp spot on your panties. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching closely as the girl who you were convinced hated you, stares down at your pussy like it’s her last fucking meal.

“You’re soaked baby…fuck…” she sighs out, her tattooed hand coming up to slowly run her index and middle fingers along your slit, the feeling alone making you gasp out before moaning for her.

That makes Ellie smirk, her stormy green eyes flickering up to catch your expressions as her fingers circle your clit slowly. “Yeah? You like that don’t you pretty girl…you want more?” She questions, her voice so soft and sweet, yet dripping with the urge to tease and humiliate you.

It was so confusing, because you didn’t know what it was that you wanted. You’d grown to view Ellie as someone who disliked you, deeply in fact. You always saw her as a figure of hate and annoyance towards you rather than someone who could ever in their wildest dreams be in this current situation with you.

But it felt so good, it felt so fucking right to have her settled between your legs, her fingers circling your clit slowly, making your head spin, making you feel so dizzy you felt like you’d cry if your aching pussy didn’t have some form of attention from her.

“Answer me…” she practically growls out when you take too long to respond, her dark eyes growing even darker as she awaits your confirmation.

Her tone along breaks you out of your thoughts, and before you can even think all of this through, consider the consequences that will follow a drunk hook up with Ellie?…

You’re nodding like a fucking bobble head.

“Want it so bad Ellie…please….please touch me” you practically beg, hips bucking for the attention you craved.

You didn’t even for a second stop to think what her motives were. Ellie was mean, and she could be really fucking mean when she wanted to. Who’s to say this wasn’t all a sick joke? One that she’d laugh at hysterically just to get you to say you wanted her, weaponizing the way you begged for her in any instance she could use to keep you in line.

“Good girl…relax baby…I’ll make you feel real good..” she hums out, her gentle words tugging you away from your intrusive thoughts.

Her fingers tug your panties to the side, an audible groan rumbling from her chest as she finally gets a glimpse as your soaked core.

“Fuckin’ look at that…pussy’s practically drooling for me baby…Jesus��� she sighs out softly.

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave. Because in the dim light of your bedroom, you watch as she pushes her fingers into her mouth. You watch her with a confused frown as you hear a small click, paired with a gentle buzzing sound.

But once Ellie finally latches her mouth to your pussy, you can feel the foreign feeling of a tiny ball in the middle of her tongue vibrating against your clit.

You don’t even have time to fully register what the actual fuck is going on, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes go wide for a moment before they flutter shut.

Ellie had a vibrating fucking tongue ring

The feeling has you moaning loudly, your head falling back as your back arches, feeding more of your throbbing cunt into Ellie’s mouth, which only makes her moan loudly against your sensitive core.

“Fuck! Ellie oh my god! Feels…h-huh….feels s’good” you gasp out, words broken up with huffs and moans as you struggle to speak.

You want to kick yourself for not noticing it moment ago when she had her tongue playing against yours, the feeling of the smooth ball lapping against the inside of your mouth, only to begging vibrating once she settled her mouth on your pussy.

She’s just as fucked out as you are when you finally look down at her, her eyes fluttered shut in what could only be viewed as pure bliss as she licks and sucks your pussy like a woman starved. The image alone makes you reach out and tug a fistful of her hair into your hand, keeping her close as your hips began grinding against her face.

“Yeah..right…f-fuck…right there Ellie!” You moan out as her hands come up to hold onto your hips, guiding you, urging you to move harder and faster against her mouth.

Begging you to use her.

Your eyes flutter shut as the familiar feeling begins to settle into your lower half, your legs growing numb, hips getting sore as you chase the high that was growing deliciously close every second Ellie worked her skilled tongue on your pussy.

You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt anything like it. Between Ellie’s fantastic performance with her tongue, and the vibrating tongue ring, your head begins spinning as your orgasm grows closer in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

“Ellie I…I can’t…you’re gonna…make me…” you warn her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare down at the girl, only to see her giving you an encouraging nod as she suckles your pussy, making sure the little ball on her tongue is working your clit in the most perfect way so that the vibrations can drive you where you need to go.

That alone has you crying out, back arching almost painfully as you cum hard on the girls tongue.

Sensitivity chases soon after, a soft whine leaving your lips as the girl laps up your arousal, tongue ring still buzzing against your tired cunt, making you shy away from the warmth of her mouth.

She chuckles at that, giving your clit one final kiss before she pulls away and reaches into her mouth to click the tiny machine off.

“Did so good for me baby…took everything that I gave you” she praises you as she crawls up your body, humming softly as her hand comes up to gently hold your face before she kisses you, letting you taste your arousal that lingers on her tongue.

You moan softly into your mouth, head still swirling with a million questions you had for her, all of which she silences with the slow and sensual lapping of her tongue against yours.

She does this as she pushes you back onto your bed, letting you rest against your pillows before she tugs your blanket over both your bodies, her tongue lazily playing with yours as she practically lulls you to sleep with her kisses.

Or so you thought.

Because soon enough, she’s breaking the kiss, crawling off of your body as she tugs the blankets off of hers. You frown as you sit up a bit, watching as she adjusts her hair and her clothes in your mirror, crouching down a bit before she turns to leave your room without another word.

“I…you’re leaving?” You question softly, confusion and exhaustion laced within your words.

Ellie snorts once she turns around, the back of her hand coming up to wipe away anymore of your juices that might have still lingered on her lips.

“You thought I was gonna stay with you? Seriously?” She chuckles out softly before she slowly makes her way back to you, leaning down as she gives you a teasing pout.

“Maybe next time princess…I have someone waiting for me downstairs” she winks at you before she swiftly leaves your bedroom, leaving you there with a shocked look settled on your face.

[fastandcarlos]

Hometown Glory : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: it all leads up to the race at zandevoort, and we all know how it ends

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liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 103,594 others

ynusername: a few days in paradise with my dream of a husband 💕☺️

9,402 comments

username1: look at how in love they are omg

username2: hope you both got a well deserved break!!

maxverstappen1: you make me the happiest love 🥰

username3: can I have a relationship like this in the future pls

landonorris: assuming my invite got lost in the post 🤔

ynusername: @/landonorris bold of you to assume you were invited in the first place 😂

carlossainz55: rebecca wants to know where you guys were staying

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 tell her to buy me a drink in zandevoort and I’m all hers

username4: I want to know where THE max verstappen holidays too

username5: hope you’re well prepared to win this weekend max!

schecoperez: how does he still look as pale as he did when you guys left 😂😂

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liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 1,392,503 others

maxverstappen1: little break before heading home for race weekend 🌊

84,061 comments

username6: the dutch fans can’t wait to see you and cheer you on!

username7: what’s the better view? max or the beach?

ynusername: always the best time with you ❤️

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername plenty more memories to hold onto forever ☺️

danielricciardo: I remember the days when you used to beg me to go on holiday with you so you wouldn’t be lonely 😂

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo luckily for me I’ve got better company now 😬

username8: these pictures are insane wow

username9: could you maybe just keep your shirt off forever??

charles_leclerc: I hope you didn’t stick to your diet (then I might have a chance of beating you this weekend!)

username10: holidaying with max is the dream

username11: abs abs abs abs abs

landonorris: still bitter I didn’t get an invite

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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 184,605 others

ynusername: supposed to be at some black tie event but all I can focus on is the view in front of me 😍

18,492 comments

username12: max looks good in anything wow

maxverstappen1: I had a pretty good view in front of me too 🥺

ynusername: @/maxverstappen that pudding did look pretty delicious

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername yeah you did, didn’t you?

username13: omg max flirting on insta I never thought we’d see the day

username14: you just know yn is scolding him behind closed doors for this

carlossainz55: that’s what happens when you date the biggest dutch sport star in the world!

carmenmmundt: idk about max but you look stunning 🥰

username15: how can one couple be so hot wtf

username16: apparently they couldn’t keep their hands off each other all night long

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liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and 120,503 others

ynusername: back in amsterdam ☕️❤️

10,683 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: wherever that is I want you to take me there!!

username17: welcome home both of you!!

username18: can’t wait to see you at the race this weekend ☺️

maxverstappen1: so this is what you get up to whilst I’m stuck in meetings huh

username19: STUNNING

danielricciardo: such an aesthetic queen

ynusername: @/danielricciardo 👑👑👑👑

alex_albon: lily calls dibs on you taking her first

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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,924,593 others

maxverstappen1: home race means I get all the kisses in the world 🥺🥺🥺

104,392 comments

username20: my heart can’t take how cute you two are

landonorris: sick bucket anyone??

username21: the definition of happiness in three photos

username22: I can’t cope with much more of this

ynusername: thousands more where those came from 😘

georgerussell63: I’m with lando on this one!

username23: yn secretly living out my dream

schecoperez: you can stop that in the garage too 😂

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez soz just can’t help myself

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liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 1,694,605 others

maxverstappen1: pole position in my home race, does it get any better than this? 🏎️🏁

129,594 comments

ynusername: could not be prouder of you!

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername it’s all thanks to your amazing support 🥺

username24: your dutch fans are incredibly proud of you ❤️💙

username25: never in doubt champ

schecoperez: congrats my friend - knew you’d do it!

username26: what about if you win tomorrow??

danielricciardo: save some wins for someone else bro

username27: an absolute legend

landonorris: I’d never forgive you for not getting pole in your home race fyi

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris let me know when you get one 😂

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liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 184,504 others

ynusername: could not be any happier, the perfect return to our home. so proud of you max!! 🥰

18,593 comments

username28: way to go max!!

username29: home races are always the best

georgerussell63: well this is a bit cute isn’t it 😂

username30: the cutest photos ever

maxverstappen1: the perfect end to the perfect weekend ❤️

landonorris: thank goodness the sweet home posts are over for another year 😂

danielricciardo: I’ve got some photos of max on my phone that might make you happier 😂

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo don’t you dare!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[egcdeath]

something old, something new

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: when your childhood best friend asks you to get married, how are you supposed to say no?

word count: 7.2k

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no explicit sex scenes), marriage of convenience, fluff, mentions of alcohol, patrick is a bad friend (but he improves), friends to spouses to lovers, fake dating, yearning and pining, everyone is bad at communicating, many feelings are being repressed, mentions of dieting in an athlete way, one singular creepy old man, no use of y/n

author’s note: i cannot get this tennis man out of my head!! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

It wasn’t every day that you could count on hearing anything from your childhood best friend, but it seemed like whenever you did hear from Patrick Zweig, it was always an ask for something more shocking than the previous one. 

As kids, you spent many evenings doing the homework that Patrick didn’t want to do, despite the fact that you didn’t really want to do more homework either. At boarding school, you’d somehow become his personal designated driver, answering his calls no matter what time and groggily picking him up from whatever party he’d found himself at. In your adulthood, you found yourself becoming a go-to stand-in for him at events he didn’t feel like attending. The amount of times that you’d shaken hands at charity galas and introduced yourself as Patrick’s girlfriend, despite not having a single romantic encounter with him, was frankly astounding. 

It seemed like whenever Patrick needed something, you were the first person he reached out to. After his parents, of course. 

You dreaded knowing the reason behind the simple hey, text message you’d just received, but you were sure that you’d find the reason out sooner rather than later–and that whatever the reason was could not have been good. 

Like clockwork, only an hour after you’d received his message, Patrick appeared at the doorway of your apartment. He came to you equipped with his secret weapon, the kicked puppy look that he often used on you before he asked you for a ridiculous favor, like breaking up with his girlfriend for him or telling his mom that he still wasn’t joining the board of the family business. 

You sighed as you took his less-than-stellar appearance in. Downtrodden expression, wrinkled and sweat-stained shirt, as if he’d gone to the gym to sweat out his feelings before coming to you, and eyes so red-rimmed, you wondered if he’d been crying. 

If you had to guess, he’d either been arguing with his parents, who knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his tennis friends, who also knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his latest girlfriend, who probably confronted him about his own wrongdoings. Regardless of who had upset him, he had obviously come to you to lick his wounds. 

Like always, Patrick stalked inside without asking you for any further permission. The two of you had done this song and dance more times than either one of you would like to admit. 

“How are you?” he asked, stopping in your kitchen to steal an apple from your decorative bowl of fruit.

“I’m good,” you said with hesitation, eyeing him once more. He really looked like shit. If he hadn’t looked so sad, you would’ve told him exactly how much shit he looked like.  

“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I am?” he questioned, a little pathetically.

“No,” you walked off to your living room, fully expecting him to follow you. You were unsurprised when he did exactly that. “Let’s just get right to it. Why’d you come over here?” you asked as the two of you sat down on your couch. 

“My parents are cutting me off,” he explained, voice breaking as he spoke.

Surely, this couldn’t all be over an empty threat. They seemed to threaten Patrick with this every few days. In fact, you’d been in the room with him when his parents promised that he’d never see another dime from them–more than once. Every time, it ended with them coming to their senses and throwing more cash at him. 

“That’s what, the twentieth time?” you laughed. “They always threaten to cut you off. What’s different this time?”

“This time, they mean it.”

You laughed even harder in his face. If you had a quarter for every time you’d had this conversation, you’d be richer than the two of your families combined. 

“I’m serious,” he inched closer to you. “They’re tired of funding my ‘tennis habit’. They want me to get serious about life. To join the board and start a family. My dad showed me an edited draft of his will and everything”

“So?” you prompted, trying to figure out where you fell into the equation. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to put you up to something absurd, like seducing his father into convincing him to not threaten Patrick’s inheritance.

“So, tennis is the only thing I care about.”

“Okay…” you trailed off. “What would you like me to do about that?”

“I need you to help show my parents that I have a vision for the future.”

“Again, Patrick, what exactly are you asking me to do?”

“Marry me.���

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it certainly was not that. Your mouth instantly dropped open and you were sure that you were gaping like a fish. Maybe if he had asked you ten years ago, you’d have instantly said yes, but you’d let that naive dream die after you’d come to realize the transactional subtext of your friendship.

“What?”

“I want you to marry me. I was thinking… you remember when we were younger and we made that pact, that if we weren’t married by the time we were adults, then we’d get hitched?”

You continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded and not believing a single word coming from his mouth. “I… I…” you couldn’t even form the words. “We were kids!”

He gave you a halfhearted shrug, as if that didn’t matter at all, and as if he didn’t just ask you to be legally and romantically bound to him forever.

“You are fucking unbelievable! You haven't talked to me for anything other than asking me a favor in years, I barely know you’re alive apart from the random drunk texts you send me, and now you want me to marry you? Do you even hear yourself?”

You scoffed and stared at him in disbelief. “And that has to be the worst proposal in all of human history. First you tell me that tennis is the only thing you care about and then ask me to marry you? You’re a joke.”

He let you finish your rant, but after a beat he finally asked. “…Is that a no?”

———-

Stranger things had happened to you than marrying your childhood best friend just a month after he’d randomly popped back up in your life. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you walked down the aisle on a beautiful beach off of the Amalfi Coast.

The last few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind, with what felt like every second of your time consumed by making guest lists and invitations, booking hotel rooms, and finding a dress that you liked enough to get married in. Obviously, you knew this was more of an elaborate scheme than a celebration of love, but you wanted it to be nice anyway. For all you knew, you may never get married again.

You don’t know what possessed you to say yes to Patrick. Maybe the small, desperate part of you that had been begging him to truly see you since you were old enough to realize he didn’t, or maybe the desire to finally have that fairytale destination wedding you’d been dreaming about from the time you learned what a wedding was. Regardless of the reason, both of your families were overjoyed by the union. In one fell swoop, you’d been able to satisfy both of your parents’ desires for you to settle down, and you’d done it with someone both pairs approved of. 

You had to give props to Patrick, the ceremony was beautiful. Given the short timeline, the two of you decided to divide and conquer the planning of the event. You were sure that he’d outsourced the work, since he was still in the middle of his tennis season, but whoever he hired did an excellent job at giving you the wedding you’d always wanted. 

Despite the very short timeline everyone had been given, you were able to wrangle all of your close family and friends to Italy to watch you elope. Your parents had insisted on inviting second cousins and shareholders to your wedding, but you’d somehow convinced them that you and Patrick wanted a smaller, more intimate ceremony. It was probably better to have less people there, lest someone notices the artificial nature of your union. 

Part of you felt like you’d pulled off the greatest prank of all time as the two of you stood up in front of your small crowd, gazing as lovingly as you could manage into each others’ eyes while the officiant said his spiel, but the other, more logical part of you filled with dread as the reality of the situation began to set in. Patrick seemed to have a way of always dragging you into a shitty situation, and you hoped for both of your sakes, that that wouldn’t be the case for your marriage.

After what felt like a lifetime, Patrick began to recite his vows, claiming to have loved you since you were children, and promising to continue to love you ‘till death did you part. If you had been marrying literally anyone else, your knees would go weak with swooning. 

Unfortunately, you were cursed with the knowledge of the reality of your situation, one where your vows sounded more like: “We only have to stay married until I retire, which should be sooner rather than later. We don’t have to do anything together: no galas, no family dinners, no family vacations. Hell, you don’t even have to come to my games. And we don’t have to be exclusive either. This is basically just a title, so feel free to see anyone you want to. I can already see the worry in your face. Stop that. We can hire someone to make us prenups, so the divorce will be an easy, clean split of our assets. See? It’s not that bad.”

The dichotomy between the words he’d said to you a month ago and the bullshit he was spewing now almost made you laugh, but that was clearly not the reaction you were meant to be having when the love of your life was publicly declaring their feelings for you. 

Once he finished declaring his romantic, empty words, you began to read off your vows. They fell in a similar vein to his, a proclamation of a lifetime-spanning love that didn’t really exist in the first place. But when you glanced up at him from your slip of paper, he was really selling it. He stared at you like he adored you, like he wanted to study every inch of your face after running off with you into the sunset.

The ridiculousness of it all finally hit you like a freight train, and you managed to pivot the laugh that was creeping up into your throat into a weepy sounding crack of your voice. Surely people cried during their own weddings. 

You finished off your vows, doing your best to pretend like this whole ordeal wasn’t the most ridiculous scheme you’d ever been dragged into. You imagined a world where he was less selfish and you were less selfless, one where you were exchanging these vows with sincerity, and it helped you to get through the words that you knew were almost completely meaningless. 

The two of you then took turns placing the ring on each others’ fingers, with Patrick giving you a ring with the largest diamond you’d ever seen, and you giving him a band that had been passed throughout your family. He’d agreed to give you the heirloom back once you divorced, so you couldn’t complain too much about giving it away in the first place.

The announcement of being able to kiss the bride rang out in your ears, yet you still found yourself surprised when Patrick eagerly wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately. Cheers erupted around the two of you, and you pulled away as the officiant declared you Mr. and Mrs. Zweig.

You had successfully tricked your audience, and yet, you still had the strangest feeling. 

Your reception felt far more natural than your wedding ceremony. After a change of outfit, a huge bowl of pasta, and a few flutes of champagne, you were feeling substantially better about the arguably poor decision you’d just made. You chatted up your friends, who jumped at the opportunity to comment on how cute of a couple you two were, did some light matchmaking between single guests, and placated both of your parents with manufactured acts of affection. You even managed to get Patrick out on the dance floor, after he swore to you that he didn’t dance. 

By the time the two of you were stumbling back into your villa, the woes of the day had practically been forgotten. When you were having this much fun, who cared about a massive, potentially life altering decision? 

You immediately made a beeline to the bathroom, anxious to get into your comfortable pajamas and to wash your face after a long day of wearing tight, extravagant dresses and a heavy layer of makeup.  

“So what did you think of your big day, Mrs. Zweig?” Patrick called out from the other side of the bathroom door, where you were sure he was also preparing for bed. “Was it everything you wanted and more?”

“I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you paused as you thought about something before confessing, “but it was everything I wanted and more.”

“Yes!” he celebrated from where you couldn’t see him, though you could perfectly envision the goofy look on his face. “I owe it to you after everything I’ve put you through. I just hope you weren’t too let down by the groom.”

“What?” you drew out before blowing a raspberry. “Of course not. You looked very handsome today,” you complimented in between splashes of your face. 

“You looked pretty beautiful, yourself,” he complimented you right back. 

“Aww, thank you, honey,” you emphasized the pet name. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I like that,” you heard the squeak of the bed from behind the door as you assumed that he’d sat down.

“Hey, you’re the one who made me marry you,” you pointed out. “Am I more than you bargained for?”

“Of course not, babe,” he emphasized his own pet name, which sent you into a fit of laughter. “It’s just so weird to hear you refer to me as anything other than an asshole.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re still an asshole,” you replied as you walked out of the bathroom, donning an old shirt with the logo of your boarding school and an equally old pair of shorts. “Just a married asshole.”

You took in the sight of your now-husband as you made your way to your side of the bed, surprised to find that you quite liked the sense of domestic bliss you were feeling. The bed dipped as you sat down and glanced back at Patrick with the slightest bit of hesitation. 

“Is this weird for you? I can go to the spare room, if you want me to,” he offered, surely in reference to the two of you sleeping in the same bed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, setting a steady hand on his knee. “What kind of couple would we be if we didn’t spend our wedding night together?” you teased. 

“The kind of couple that marries for convenience?” he suggested.

“Hey, who’s to say that this isn’t love? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Maybe some of it lingered, or some shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked at you with that sleazy smirk that you both loved and hated. “What happened?”

“Hmm… I think I realized that you’re a dick,” you matched his smirk with a challenging one of your own.

“Huh. Did you have this realization before or after you started seeing Dan Thompson?” he questioned.

You were surprised by the mention of your first boyfriend, particularly because you weren’t sure that Patrick remembered any detail about your personal life, let alone your love life. “I realized it after you started treating me like your workhorse.”

“Oh okay, so you had a crush on me while you were with your boyfriend. Good to know.”

“Shut up,” you groaned and turned away from him as you finally full laid down. 

“Would it make you feel better to know that I also had a crush on you?” you heard the bed sheets rustle as he scooted closer to you, and you turned back to face him. 

“You’re lying.” You couldn’t see any world where that would make sense to you. In your youth, it seemed like Patrick was always off somewhere with a new person, and none of those people were you. Not that you had an issue with it, but the thought that the two of you might’ve had crushes on each other at the same time without either of you pursuing each other felt kind of weird. 

“Nope. You’re the first person I ever jerked off to,” he said as casually as if he were telling you what he ate for breakfast, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Ew, you’re so gross,” you gently pushed him, but your hands lingered where they sat on his chest. “Was that supposed to be romantic or something?”

“That’s not romantic to you?” he asked with all the sincerity of someone who was fully committing to a bit. 

The two of you broke out into laughter. Once you finally caught your breath, you began once more. “This is gonna be a long marriage.”

“Hopefully,” he remarked in response. 

“If you keep talking to me like that, I will literally go get our marriage annulled, like right now.”

“Please don’t,” he whined, grabbing one of your hands from his chest and kissing your fingers. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Every time you promise to make something up to me, an inconsistent fairy gains its wings.”

“Hey,” his tone suddenly became very serious, completely catching you off guard. “I really am sorry that I’ve been a terrible friend. I don’t know that I’ve ever said it, but I am. You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t even know how I convinced you to do this for me.”

You almost started to laugh, unable to take the absurd situation seriously. You’d been waiting years to hear him genuinely apologize, and now hours after you’d married solely as a favor to him, he was finally telling you what you wanted to hear. 

“Please. I’m serious. I know you think I’m a piece of shit flaky ashhole, and I am, but I want to be a better husband to you than I ever was as a friend.”

You felt your heart stop beating for a second. The word husband sounded so foreign in his mouth. You couldn’t quite pin how you felt about it, but you knew you felt uncomfortable with the intimacy of his words. 

“Patrick, please shut up,” you squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly a little overwhelmed with the Patrick of it all. In fact, you couldn’t think of anything more encapsulating of your experience with him than the whiplash you got from that moment. He could be a complete asshat, but his occasional moments of earnestness kept you following him like a lost puppy, accepting his apologies and granting him ridiculous favors, despite your better judgment. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving closer to you to get a good look at you. You swore you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

“I’m fine, I just-“ am overwhelmed by you being sweet? Can’t believe that I’m hearing you say this to me after so long? Also can’t believe that you and I are married?

None of the right words seemed to come to you, so you did the second best thing you could think of. 

You pecked his lips and pulled away as if you’d just touched a hot handle. You didn’t know what had come over you, and immediately began to apologize profusely. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know-“ you were cut off by his hands on your face, greedily and sloppily pulling you back in for another kiss, this one far more passionate and confident than the first. 

Your kiss was messy but fervent, years of pent up sexual frustration and non-sexual frustration behind your every movement. As you kissed, you moved to straddle him, feeling a little ridiculous in your ratty old clothes, but that didn’t stop him from groping you over your pajamas like you were the hottest thing on the planet. 

Maybe the strangest thing to happen to you that day wasn’t even your wedding.

——

That night was the first in a series of very strange events. You couldn’t even fully wrap your head around what was happening in your marriage. You just knew that the two of you had become closer friends than you’d ever been before, and that you slept together when either of you had the urge. It was basically a no strings attached situation, except, legally, all strings were attached. 

If you were confused by your arrangement, you were sure that your friends were even more lost, something they proved to you as they interrogated you over brunch. 

“So, just so we’re clear, you married him as a favor?!” your friend asked in complete disbelief. 

“Well… yeah, basically.”

“Shit. Can I ask you for a favor of a million dollars?” she joked, leading to the laughter of your other friends at the table.

“Well, that’s different. At least with our marriage, we both benefit. He gets his parents off his ass about being so focused on tennis that he doesn’t have any future prospects, and I get my parents to stop trying to marry me off to every single rich boy they find.”

“But you’re not like, actually married. Like you guys don’t have feelings for each other?” another friend questioned.

You sipped your mimosa before explaining your situation for what must’ve been the fifth time that day, “we’re basically friends with benefits.”

“But you’re legally married? Like, the wedding was official and stuff?”

“Legally? Yeah. But it’s literally just that,” you clarified. 

“Legal marriage and sex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that they were finally catching on. 

“Then… are you guys seeing other people?”

“Oh yeah, what ever happened to that one model guy you were seeing?” another one of your friends pitched in. 

“It didn’t really work out,” you addressed that with an understatement. He rightfully flipped his shit when he found out you were going to be marrying someone else. “But neither of us are seeing other people. I don’t think either of us want to risk bringing anything back to one another.”

“That sounds pretty committed to me.”

“Not really,” you dismissed.

“Then why are you even together?”

“How many times do I have to explain how we both benefit from this?”

“No, not legally, or socially or whatever. Why are you hooking up with him? Aren’t you scared you’ll mess up your friendship or something?”

“Well, the sex is really, really good. But I’m really not worried. There's no romance between us. We’ve been friends for so long that it’s just… weird to look at him like anything other than my friend. It’s basically a loveless marriage of convenience.”

Your friend shot you a skeptical look. You just shrugged her off. 

———

The moment you found out your afternoon meeting had been canceled, you reached out to your assistant to make arrangements for you to go to Patrick’s tennis game. He’d been on a winning streak, and though he insisted that you didn’t need to come to his games, you knew that he secretly liked having you there. 

Over the past few months of your marriage, you’d grown to realize that he often didn’t say what he actually meant. Like the time he told you that he preferred to live alone, before breathily confessing in your ear that he slept better by your side. Or when he swore to you that he loved the pancakes you’d served him, despite the food being some of the worst you’d ever put in our mouth and him being on a diet. You almost found it sweet that he tried to prioritize your feelings over his own, which was surely a result of overcompensation from the way he had treated you for the majority of your lives. 

You arrived at his match just in time to watch him take a break, making your way into the stands and finding a seat where you’d have the best view of your friend as possible. You didn’t expect him to scan the audience and find you until much later on, but you were pleasantly surprised when the two of you made eye contact and he absolutely lit up. You waved, then gave him a thumbs up in hopes to communicate your support from far away. 

While you couldn’t always make it, you liked to play the role of supportive tennis wife. Getting dressed up and making an appearance not only publicly legitimized your sham of a marriage, but helped you to reconnect with some of your former boarding school classmates, who were often in the stands supporting a friend or a loved one. You also just liked to watch him play, as witnessing the passion and ferocity he had out on the court was extremely entertaining, and even at times, mildly arousing.  

With their break ending, Patrick went back out on the court and played just as well as you expected him to, crushing his competition, and looking up into the stands at you to celebrate once he’d scored the winning point. 

At first, it was surprising how proud his wins made you feel of him, a feeling that you explained to yourself by arguing that if he wasn’t giving his absolute all to tennis, then your marriage had basically been all for nothing. Although that did still ring slightly true, the truth was that you were simply proud of Patrick. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you were a unit now, which meant that his wins were your wins and vice versa. In some ways, it was kind of nice to be part of a team. Or at least his team.

You met Patrick down on the court, where he paused from packing his bag to immediately greet you with a kiss to the forehead, a small act of intimacy that was typically reserved for situations far different from the one you were currently in. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a half-hug. 

“I didn’t know I was coming either,” you instinctually wrapped your arm around him in response to his half-hug. “Great job out there. You kinda demolished him!”

“I did, didn’t I,” he said just loud enough for you to hear, still wanting to appear like a good sport. “I have to go get ready for the press conference. Do you want to meet me at my hotel?”

“Of course. You don’t mind me staying for the night?” you probed, despite knowing the answer. He wouldn’t have asked you to go to his hotel in the first place if he’d minded.

“You know I never mind you staying for the night,” he gave you a cheeky wink.

“You’re so sleazy,” you commented with fake disgust.

“You started it,” he replied, reluctantly pulling away from you and reaching into his bag to grab his hotel keycard. “I’ll text you when I’m heading back.” 

The moment you received a message about him being on his way to the hotel, you made a very lengthy phone call and request to the restaurant in the building. Technically, he shouldn’t be eating any of what you ordered, on account of him being on a strict diet plan, but you figured that he deserved it after playing the way that he did. Besides, Patrick liked thoughtful acts of service, and you figured that this would count as one.

“You know me so well,” he practically gasped as he stepped into the room, taking in the platters of food you’d laid out for him.

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t?” you teased, though your sentiment was somewhat accurate, and it was clear that the two of you had grown to know each other far better over the past few months, you hoped that your friend wasn’t interpreting your words in too serious of a way. 

The two of you laid out on the pristine hotel bed, eating the feast that you’d ordered without much dialogue between you, other than a comment on how good something was, or a request to pass an item to one another. It felt oddly domestic, and oddly enough, you liked it. Maybe you liked it even more than you’d been willing to admit.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he announced after tossing his napkin onto a cleared off plate.

“Want some company?” you offered, raising your brows at him in a playfully suggestive manner.

“Is that what this is all about?” he feigned offense. 

“Maybe,” you trailed off. “Or maybe I just wanted to celebrate the greatest tennis player of all time,” you purred.

“Come on. You and I both know that is far from the truth.”

“Well you’re the greatest player in my heart,” you praised, much to his chagrin.

“Ugh. Shut up and come shower with me.” 

As you sleepily ran your fingers through his damp hair, you were surprised when he broke his silence with a comment seemingly out of the blue. It was more of a mumble than anything else, but you’d grown accustomed to his muffled words over the course of your marriage. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he randomly complimented you.

“You know you don’t have to compliment me to get into my pants, right?” you asked with a hint of laughter in your tone.

“I’m not trying to,” he pecked your arm–the limb he had the easiest access to at the moment–as if he was trying to emphasize his point, though all it did was bring heat to your cheeks at the reminder of the way he’d pressed slow and meaningful kisses along your calves and inner thighs while the two of you were in the shower. “You just looked so good today, I couldn’t not comment.”

“I don’t look good every day?” you asked facetiously, trying to deflect from the warm and fuzzy feeling his compliments and affection were making you feel. 

“Of course you always look good,” he reassured you rather than playing along with your game of joking instead of addressing your feelings. “I just don’t tell you that enough.”

You weren’t even sure how you could respond to that. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to mince words tonight, but you couldn’t bear to match his genuinity with cheap jokes. The only real, genuine thought to pop into your head were three ridiculous words that you immediately batted away. You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than randomly declaring your love to a husband who wasn’t really your husband in a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage. 

Out of ideas, you hit the lamp on your side of the bed. “I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” he parroted back to you, remaining snug against your chest, despite the fact that your hands had stopped threading through his hair. 

Deep down, you knew that those three words had been on the tip of Patrick’s tongue, too.    

——

Being in the social circles of filthily rich people meant you often found yourself at random charity events, hosted by the nonprofits of families and business owners looking for a particularly large tax break for the year. Over the years, you’d felt that you’d seen and participated in it all: marathons raising awareness for a serious, but extremely rare disease, date auctions to raise money for a cause that certainly didn’t justify you having to go on a date with a man almost forty years your senior, or galas for nearly-extinct sea creatures that were essentially used as an excuse to stand around and network while drinking expensive alcohol and eating hor d'oeuvres.

You seemed to find yourself at a lot of events like the latter, including the one you were standing at now. The gala, which took place in the art exhibit it was raising money for, was a rather standard one, filled with the typical suspects who regularly attended those events. 

It was slightly ironic to be at the event with Patrick as your plus one, as this was the exact type of event he would’ve texted you about an hour before it began to ask if you would play his concerned partner for the night who told everyone a flimsy excuse about him being under the weather. 

It also served as somewhat of a reminder to you of the massive growth that your friend had undergone since the two of you became legally bound to one another. It finally felt like Patrick saw you as a true friend, instead of a reliable person who would do his dirty work. It finally felt like he cared. In some ways, your marriage was the best thing to happen to your friendship. 

Patrick returned to where you were standing, this time with two flutes of champagne and a delicious looking appetizer in his hand. 

“You’re too kind,” you said as he passed you your drink. 

“Anything for my wife,” he mockingly bowed in front of you and you chuckled and shook your head. Over the past year, the two of you slowly became slightly more comfortable with referencing each other as husband and wife, but only really as a joke. You guessed that in a lot of ways, that’s what your marriage was—a ridiculous inside joke.  

He was just about to feed you a hor d'oeuvre when you were approached by a wildly unwelcome figure: the man who had purchased a date with you a few years ago. Despite your one very awkward, stilted date, he never really seemed to get over you–which he made a point to prove at every event you both happened to be at. And unfortunately for you, his generous donations landed him on the guest list for the majority of these events. 

You were used to fighting him off on your own, as he seemed to come and flirt with you regardless of how inappropriate it was for the setting of the event, or even when he already had a beautiful young bombshell hanging on his arm. At this point, you’d learned to just tune his every word out and flee as soon as you possibly could. He was annoying, but he wasn’t dangerous.  

“Hey, honey,” he greeted you way too comfortably. You’d given up on asking him to call you by your name a very long time ago. 

“Hi, John,” you reached out to shake his hand and cringed internally when he kissed the back of your hand. 

“Oh honey, who is this?” Patrick immediately lept in, surprising you with his unsubtle passive aggressive tone and ridiculous use of a pet name. 

“You don’t remember me? I swear, we’ve met a few times.” John asked, trying to smile despite clearly being agitated by the presence of competition.

“Some people are more forgettable than others,” he said with a shrug. “How do you know my wife?” He emphasized the word and you pushed down the small inkling of pride you were feeling. Whether it was from watching Patrick try to scare this annoying man away from you, or being so proudly referred to as his wife, you couldn’t be sure.  

“Finally settling down, eh?” he directed at you, then directed his next statement to Patrick. “We went on a date back in the day.”

“It was for that one date auction thing,” you quickly added context, but paused when you took in John’s less than pleased look. He was a large donor at your own family’s nonprofit, and you were sure that your parents wouldn’t be too pleased with you if they found out he pulled out over you hurting his feelings. “We had a lot of fun, though.”

“We definitely did,” he chuckled and smirked. You wanted to punch him in the mouth. “We should definitely do it again sometime.”

It was clear that Patrick was not taking kindly to seeing you be flirted with so brazenly in front of him. Part of you wondered why he would be possessive, since part of your initial deal was that you could see whoever you wanted, even if that happened to be a creepy old man with a lot of money. The other part of you was enjoying seeing him so fired up. Particularly, seeing him fired up over you. 

“Our schedule is just so busy. Between work and us trying to start a family, I just don’t know when we’ll have time to see you again.”

Trying to start a family? That was definitely news to you. Although, the idea didn’t sound awful. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to start a family with their closest, most dear friend? 

“Well, she knows where to find me, right, honey?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, looking into your glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Now if you don’t mind, my wife and I are going to go check out the exhibit,” Patrick announced, grabbing your hand and taking a step away from John. 

“You two have fun,” he said before clapping Patrick’s shoulder and leaning in to begin a stage whisper. “Make sure you treat her right and cherish her. If you don’t, I might have to swoop in and do so myself.”

He winked at you and you bit back a gag. 

“Don't you worry your wrinkly little head. Nobody lov- cherishes her more than I do,” he theatrically patted his back much like he’d initially done to him. “See you around.”

Did he almost say what you think he almost said? Surely you misheard him, or he was just playing up your relationship to scare away that creepy man. It really wasn’t anything to think twice about. 

Once the two of you had walked away far enough to be out of earshot, you finally addressed what had just happened. “Thank you, bodyguard. You don’t even know how much I despise that man.”

“He seems like he’s the worst,” he agreed with you, looking back over his shoulder. 

“That’s because he is,” you emphasized. “This is so random, but did you mean what you said earlier?”

Patrick suddenly paused, his face going pale like he’d just seen a ghost. You were a little confused by this reaction, as he’d said nothing to warrant that level of fear. 

“Do you actually want to start a family? Obviously not now, while you’re still playing tennis, but maybe eventually? I know we don’t have the most traditional marriage, but, I don’t know. Neither of us are getting any younger, and it might be fun to co-parent with my best friend,” you were clearly rambling now, but luckily, Patrick came in to rescue you for the second time that night. He looked far less aghast now. 

“I would love that,” he said to you with a genuine smile. You matched his with one of your own. 

———

“Do you have any big plans for retirement?” a reporter asked for the final question of the press conference. 

“Mostly just eating a lot of burgers. And maybe learning how to play pickleball,” Patrick responded, never one to give a serious answer to questions that weren’t explicitly about tennis. 

It was a ridiculous note to end on, but it felt right. You’d found that to be the case with most things in your life that pertained to him–most notably your marriage, which ended up being far more than you ever expected it to be.

After the press conference had come to a close, Patrick met you outside by the car, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then leaning down to peck your baby bump. 

“How does it feel to be retired?” you asked, ruffling his hair while he was still bending down.

“It feels like you might divorce me,” he joked. Obviously your marriage deal was only meant to cover the time that he was still playing tennis, but after years of a complicated marriage that suddenly became significantly less complicated once you finally confronted the fact that the two of you very obviously loved each other, it seemed unlikely that your union would end any time soon. 

You glanced down at your baby bump, then back up to him skeptically.  “I hope you’re not being serious.”

“Come on, I never know with you. You’re the one who friendzoned me the entire first year of our marriage!” he exclaimed.

“That was a lifetime ago,” you countered before taking his hands in yours. “If you’re really worried, I have zero intentions of ending our marriage.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he grinned, stepping away from you. “Let’s get going. I don’t want us to miss our reservation.”

You nodded and obliged, passing him the keys before heading to the passenger side of the car.

Once you sat down, you were overcome with the urge to say something. You had spent so much time bottling up and pressing down your own feelings, that it was now hard to resist letting things out when they came to you. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you blurted. “And I love you. So much.”

Patrick smiled at you genuinely, before his look turned into a slightly more devious one. “I love you so much, too. One might even say I love you more.” 

“Don’t even start with that,” you laughed, not in the mood to have the kind of back and forth with him that you had at least once a week. Considering that you were carrying his child, you were pretty sure that you were the winner of the love competition.  

“Fine. We love each other equally,” he conceded.

“That’s more like it.”

You tried to think back to one specific moment where your marriage had crossed over from being one of convenience, into a union with genuine feelings attached, and realized that you weren’t exactly sure. It could’ve been the first night you spent together, when you’d finally allowed yourself to consider what your relationship might look like beyond a simple friendship, or maybe it was even earlier than that, when you gazed into Patrick’s eyes as you read off your vows. The look of pure adoration he gave you was one that you had grown familiar with throughout the course of your marriage, but you hadn’t realized at the time just how genuine he had been. Or maybe even the moment Patrick asked you in the living room of your apartment, when you’d been the first person he thought of to carry out his ridiculous scheme, and you’d said yes despite every logical part of your brain that screamed at you to say no. 

Whenever it began didn’t particularly matter. What mattered now was that the two of you fully intended to spend the rest of your lives together. 

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey�� you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.