#I'm back bitches whoop

[whysamwhy123]

Since I'm back after a little unplanned hiatus, time to blab about another dumb idea I had for an AU that I'll never write! So! For some reason, a while back, I decided I really wanted to come up with a trashy reality show AU for Max Squared, where MJF decides to exploit Caster's immediate, intense love for him by starting up a little showmance. Max wants to manipulate the editing of the show as well as the game itself to make sure that he wins and/or becomes the breakout star of the season. So when Caster falls head over heels for him on Day One, he's presented with the perfect opportunity.

Initially, I was thinking the show would be a Survivor type deal, a bunch of people on a desert island or something, voting each other off, so Max's game is stringing Caster along so that he won't ever vote against him and he always has an ally help him vote out whoever he considers his biggest competition. But then I started to think it might be funnier if it was an American Idol style singing competition. It kinda fits, right? Both MJF and Caster are musically inclined, after all. And it changes the logic behind Max's plan - he wants to manipulate the editing of the show, make himself seem like a nice, endearing guy so the public will vote to keep him in the show, and ensure he gets a lot more screen time than the the other contestants. And what better way to do than pretending to be falling in love with this weirdo who's obsessed with you? A heart-warming queer romance on a show where only one of them can win? That's some good trash TV there, right?

MJF insists to Caster that it's all an act on his part. He's only pretending to be in love with him for the show, to tug on the heartstrings of all the stupid fans out there who think this shit is anything close to real. A ploy to make himself seem like the perfect charming, irresistible hero he needs to be in order to win this damn thing. And Caster's just like ''Whatever you say, sweetie,'' because he knows before Max does.

Maybe after a certain point, Max figures, hey, there's no harm in sleeping with the guy. It doesn't mean anything - Caster's so willing, so he may as well get laid. Of course, Caster thinks this is a sign that he really does have feelings for him, no matter how many times MJF tells him that it's not because he's actually attracted to him. No, it's just a ''power thing''.

He's only pretending, right? Caster's a fucking loser, a pawn in Max's grand master plan to emerge victorious. There's no way he could end up actually developing feelings for him over the course of the show, right? It's all for the show, it's fake, it's not real! There's simply no way he could...

Also, I'd want there to be a point where one night, Caster straight-up begs Max to let him eat his ass. And MJF's like ''Ugh, no way! That's disgusting! You're insane! You're a fucking weirdo! You're gross! You're...you'd do that for me?'' and of course, Caster tells him he'd do anything for him. And Max finds he can't resist anymore. So he lets Caster do it and he makes sure he doesn't regret it. Max's probably so loud during it that it pisses off the other contestants and the crew members who can hear it through the walls because Max simply cannot keep quiet like he usually can.

[emberfaye]

Kids are kind and loving because they've had it modeled for them and have learned how to be, often from their parents. I hope you'll allow yourself some credit for that.

Keep going. Your children are so lucky to have you.

thank you. I'm much better about knowing that in my heart and soul nowadays. It's what makes these moments so precious to me.

"fun" backstory lore below

I did not get to ahve a good support group from my family when i first was pregant, and had post partum. so already from the start i was led to believe i was wrong and to feel guilt for how things had turned out.

and then like 4 years later i thought i finally had the family i wanted, the family i always hoped for--we were hanging out, talking about deep stuff. they trusted me with their mental illness and i trusted them with mine. we were spending vacations together and laughing.

I found out new years day, catalyst being a facebook post i knew was about me because I can connect the fucking dots, that these four had been gossiping behind my back about how i was a shit parent, forced my kids on everyone else so i didn't have to take care of them, was an awful person, "didn't deserve to have kids, didn't deserve to be a mom", and so much other stuff.

The reasons? My oldest, at age 4, wasn't completely potty trained. So obviously i was a failure (It didn't matter that in a year long period he broke his arm, had an abcess to be removed from his butt, and fell in the toilet and scared himself. not that they knew that last one, or thought the first two would affect his potty training). Also, the whole thing started ebcause I left two toddlers at my parents house, safe and warm and playing with their cousins to spend the night on new years eve at like 1am, instead of dragging them home with me on a thirty minute drive, unloading them at the apartment not far from a college campus ALONE because my spouse was working, and coming back in five hours with laundry. Like. yeah, lets drag them and make them miserable even though they are going to pass out soon and still be asleep when i come back. Makes sense.

I never got closure. I will never get closure. This almost 11 years ago, and other than that one awful day, where other family members stepped up to defend me it never got talked about by those four people. the facebook person texted me an apology and claimed that was enough, one person said they tried to get the person not to post but were they wrong? One refused to talk to me at all. One just kept saying they weren't going to get involved (yet they failed to acknowledge or admit they were already involved for shittalking me in the first place)

So yeah. I spent years having to justify my parenting to myself. Even if everyone else kept saying I was doing fine, doing great--I had random people coming up to me in restaurants telling me how good my kids were, I had happy involved kids, i had teachers telling me "whatever you're doing, keep doing it", I had the mom look down and could calm a group of not even my kids with it---I still felt like shit at it.

This was on top of regular depression and on top of regular family dysfunction.

It was a long process to get to the point where I can say I'm a good mom. And even now when I face a challenge i find myself sometimes reverting into that mindset. I also have issues with trusting people and being talked about behind my back--I don't wanna say it's a trigger but like...it's something.

But my kids are loved, and loving, and they like each other and they like me, so I am making it through, and more importantly, I'm very hopeful they'll never relate to songs about broken homes and feeling inadequate to the same extent as me, and that's fucking good enough

[lunapwrites]

I really genuinely hope that the tech industry is the next battlefront of the union wave.

I want every single person who actually touches the product and has any hand in its development and day to day maintenance to collectively walk out. I want them to scramble to try and replace you with AI (which will not work) or with cheap labor from whatever sources they can get (a patch job at best, and in my limited experience liable to cause some hilariously catastrophic failures.) I want them to feel the consequences of the unrealistic expectations they place on your shoulders. I want them to have to work the inhuman hours at the inhuman pace they force you to. I want to listen to their investors screaming as their money tree withers and burns in your wake. I want the world to tremble with the sudden and terrible realization that it cannot function without you.

And, you know, pay and benefits that reflect your skill set, experience, and value would be nice. Representation at the negotiating table. Hours that a human person can sustainably work. Just little things.

[sysig]

Boy who cried wolf (Patreon)

[butterfly-jackal]

Hey! Guess who accidently logged themselves out for 6 months and didn't realize til just now. I might be a little dumb

[happylandfill23]

i wish there was a way to try out names without actually having to ask people to call you them

[cherryswisherz]

roles reversed

toxic!paige x toxic!reader

warnings: smut, sub!paige, reader pushed paige into a wall, toxic toxic toxic situationship (LEAVE THEM IT NEVER ENDS WELL)

based on this req

"we be on some toxic shit, but i cannot get off this bitch"

forever (lil baby ft. fridayy, 2022)

-

this girl got me fucked up. 

"so let me get this straight." i asked, rubbing my temples because paige was giving me a fucking migraine. "you thought that i had a thing for your teammate.... so you FUCKED SOMEONE ELSE?"

"okay when you put it like that-" 

"THERES NO OTHER FUCKING WAY TO PUT IT PAIGE!" i was full on screaming at this point. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT I'M NOT NOR AM I GOING TO FUCK SOMEONE ELSE?" 

"bro stop yelling at me." 

she was making demands right now? 

oh she has life all the way fucked up.

"get the fuck out paige."  i shook my head and began to walk to my room. 

i had to just end it.

that situationship shit was for the fucking birds and i had to protect my peace because if i handled it was gonna end up in fucking prison. 

"baby no, let's talk about this."

"oh i'm baby now?" i scoffed at this. "was i baby when you were fucking that girl? was i baby when you chose not to ask the simplest fucking question, and instead chose to step out on the rule that you  created?" i asked walking closer to her, with my fists clenched because at that point...

i needed that.

"or am i only baby when you need a rough fuck?" her eyes flicked from mine to my lips, which only further irritated me. "am im only baby after you've called me every other name in the book?" her tongue darted out against her bottom lip as i finally reached her, standing directly in front of her, daring her to break the eye contact i'd established. "you only want me when no one else is willing to let you do shit we do." i shoved her, making her stumble. 

"yo." she says, still holding eye contact. "chill out."

yeah i'm finna whoop her muhfuckin ass. 

"bro on my mama you got me fucked up." i muttered and start pushing her as hard as i could, saying whatever came to my mind. 

"you wanna fuck bitches now?" shove "that's what you wanna do?" shove "you wanna fuck them and then come here and fuck me like im just an afterthought?" shove "get the fuck out!" and then finally her back met the wall next to my door and i felt like i'd accomplished something.

....that was until she put me in a bear hug, making it damn near impossible to move. "y/n, stop bro!"

i used all my strength and ripped myself out of her hold. "NO YOU STOP!" i yelled. "do you have any idea how fucking annoying you fucking are bro?" i asked trying to catch my breath. "how the fuck do you sit there and make the 'no fucking other people' rule and then turn around and break it? you fucking slut."

 "i'm a slut?" she asked, smirking a little, but at this point i didn't give a damn. i was gonna say what i needed to say and then be done with this whole thing. 

"yes. a slut. a whore. whatever you wanna call yourself." i said, crossing my arms. "you never wanted to be exclusive. you just wanted me to be yours and only yours. but you wanna go give away everything that's mine. you're community pussy at this point." 

she practically howled at that. "community pussy is crazy." this bitch was laughing in my fucking face-

next thing i knew i was running towards her ready to molly whop her ass. 

"okay! okay! chillchillchillchill!" she put her hands up before i got to her, which made me stop. "what can i do to fix this?"

easy. 

"ask me to be your girlfriend." 

"anything but that." 

this is exactly why i was trying to smack her. because she's one of them dumb hoes. she just said 'what can i do?'... 

just stupid. 

all of a sudden an idea hit me. 

"let me fuck you." i crossed my arms and smirked because i knew she would give me the upper hand if i wanted it.  

paige wasn't a stone top. she was a switch, she just didn't do it often because i was the og pillow princess. but not today. today i was gonna do what she'd been doing to me for almost 6 months. 

ruin her. 

"oh?" she grinned. "you wanna top me baby?"

"i really wanna beat your ass but martin luther king said violence isn't the answer and i listen to my ancestors... so yes, this will do."

she chuckled a little which irked the fuck out of me but then she plopped on the couch and manspread. "do your worst." 

she had no fucking idea what my worst was.

i climbed in her lap and her hands moved to my ass but i quickly shut that down and pinned them to the couch on either side of her. then i proceeded to take her shirt and sports bra off so that her top half was completely bare. 

i took a moment to admire her. leaving paige alone would have honestly been so much easier if she was ugly but unfortunately, she's hand crafted by jesus himself, so here i was... delusional and pissed off again. 

i start with her neck, soft kisses at first, then as i felt her breathing pick up i switched to longer, more sensual movements and grind into her lap, smiling at the way her hips buck up. i place a hand on her collarbones and slide them down to her tits, kneading them and relishing in the whimpers escaping paiges lips. 

she tried to close her legs as my hands travel further down her body. 

"spread your legs." i demanded. 

she blinked a few times, her blue eyes finding mine. she looked like she couldn't comprehend what i was saying, but when i slid my hand across the space of her lap between us, she complied, eagerly spreading her legs for me. 

a soft sigh from her lips as my hands slipped past the waistband of her briefs and grazed her core. 

"yes, fuck," she breathed out, arching into my fingers that ran circles around her clit. so impatient. a moan fell from her lips as i sped up my pace, making her legs spread further as she chased her orgasm. 

which she seemed desperate for. that much was obvious by how gloriously wet she was for me. 

she gripped the cushions of my couch, moaning even louder when i slid two fingers into her. 

"right there" she breathed rolling her eyes closed as i hit her spot. she moaned especially loud when i curled my fingers into her. i felt her legs grow tight under me, which  made me want to smile with pride for myself. 

"how you feel p?" i felt her tighten around my fingers as i spoke. 

"close- im so close and- shit - it feels so good." she breathed out, chest rising and falling with each breath. 

i curled my fingers deeper inside of her to hit that spongy spot and soaked in the cry she let out. 

then i slid out of her.  leaving her hanging. 

"now how do you feel?" i asked. 

the look on paiges face was murderous and pained at the same time. like she hated this but she was gonna put up with it anyway. 

"like you're not done yet." 

i smiled. "not even close babe." i patted her thigh, stepping off of her lap. "go to my bed and wait for me." 

as i sauntered off into my hallway closet to t get he batteries i needed, i heard the soft patters of paiges sock covered feet hurrying to my bedroom. 

i grabbed the batteries and walked into my room to find paige sitting at the foot of my bed, rid of her bottoms, feet tapping the ground in what, im assuming, anticipation. 

i moved so i was standing directly in front of her, grabbing her jaw and pulling her into a kiss that even had me ready to let this whole thing go. 

luckily though, i had enough willpower to pull away and walk to my night stand. 

"lay down for me p." and she did. 

watching her like this was almost painful. bare, toned body layed out on my bed, and she was doing everything i'd asked without a second thought. 

i lived for this shit.

i was pulled out of my thoughts when paige asked what i was gonna do.

great fucking question. 

 i took my time, looking in the drawer of my nightstand, which held all of the things paige had often used to bring me to my highest points. 

not that she need them.

i decided to keep it simple and nabbed the black bullet shaped toy then made my way back to the gorgeous piece of woman that was losing her mind in my bed. 

"legs wider apart." i heard her breathe sharply as she drummed her fingers on her toned stomach. 

she was excited which made me feel a little bit better about what i was about to do. 

setting the toy down on bed beside paige, i knelt down so i was face to face with her core that was still primed from her denied orgasm earlier. 

god she was sooooo... FUCK.

"you're always acting like i'm just a quick fuck to you p." i ran two fingers up her folds, ignoring the whimper she let out, "and i don't know why." i slid a finger into her and leaned down so i fell face first into her pussy. 

her eyes rolled back as i rubbed circles on her clit and pumped in and out of her with increasing speed. 

her back arched off the bed when i added a second finger and attached my lips to her clit, sucking lightly but i used my free hand to hold her hips her place. 

i pulled back long enougt to say "watch." 

with hooded eyes she stares down at me like i had hung the moon and stars myself. 

as she fucking should.

loud moans echoed around the room as she leaned further into my touch and i knew she was getting close. 

but she wasn't getting off that easy. 

she whined my name the second i'd stopped touching her. 

but i only laughed as turned it on the vibrator, giggling when her previously shut eyes flew open. 

"baby-" she was cut off by her own gasp, jerking forward when i tapped the vibrator against her clit. 

"don't. cum." standing up so i was looking down at her i asked the million dollar question. "i wanna know why you don't wanna be my girlfriend." i murmured, teasing her her folds. "just give me your point of view." 

i knew how she was feeling because i'd been in this very position so many times before. I knew she probably couldn't even think straight, let alone speak, but that wasn't gonna stop me from fucking with her. 

she whimpered as i dipped the vibrator inside of her. 

"speak, paige." i demanded, sliding the toy back out of her, only to run it over her puffy clit earning me a frustrated groan. 

"because you're you and i'm me- shit-" she moaned, arching off the bed again as i held the vibrator softly on her clit. "w-we're just- fuck- so different and i don't wanna..." she trailed off when i applied more pressure. 

"don't what?" i forced out, admiring the way her hands were gripping my sheets. 

when she didn't answer me i turned the vibration up a notch, soaking in the moans and whimpers she gave me.  

"please," she pleaded as her legs began trembling. 

"you just have to give an answer paige and i'll let you cum." i replied, turning the vibrator up again. 

with a deep moans she finally gave in. "i don't wanna lose you" she basically sobbed. 

 that's all i needed.

"cum for me paige." 

her eyes slammed shut and her head flew back as her whole body shook. guttural moans left her throat as she fell apart in front of me. 

it was beautiful, really. 

when she'd ridden her orgasm out, i tossed the vibrator on the bed and laid between her legs that wrapped around my waist. kissing her deeply, and pushing her hair out of her face, i fought the smile that was forming. 

right now wasn't about proving my point. it was about grounding paige. 

her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the ceiling, catching her breath. and then after a few seconds, her hands slithered around my waist, under my shirt. 

with a sigh, she her eyes met mine and she began talking. "of course i want you to be mine. i think.... i think i'm just scared i'm gonna fuck it up and you're gonna be done with me for real."

"you're gonna lose me regardless if you don't figure this shit out p." i said, pulling up so i was straddling her naked body. "i can't keep doing this shit. this was never just sex and you going out doing whatever with whoever is fucking me up a little." 

"i know mama." she said, pulling me back so i was flush against her chest, hugging me tightly "i'm gonna work on it, i swear." 

and even though it sounded nice in the moment, i knew she was full of shit. she'd never change, and i knew it. 

but a piece of me never wanted to stop trying. 

niyah speaks may this type of love never find you guys

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03 @pb524830 @dnftpn @pboogerswbb @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @paigesbabygirl @ch12334

[parkersbliss]

if you and the COD men had Instagram

pairing: task force 141 x gender neutral reader (platonic), ft. keegan, alex, konig and alejandro

warnings: totally inaccurate brain rot, some of these people would not have instagram or post them like this LOL, like def OOC but it was funny to me? obvi they don't actually know each other canonically

a/n: I canon ghost would actually vaguely appear in the back of their insta posts with no tag and people just think the grim reaper is coming after them :)

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

Liked by valval, kganrusset, and 226 others

soapify gang and @/lasvargas !!! view all 33 comments

(Y/U/N) ZOO WEE MAMA SOAP UR BICEPSSS 🤤 → soapify glad someone noticed → gatzby one bite? 🥺 → soapify boy.

j.price my men → (Y/U/N) no, MY men :)

gatzby ghost in jeans really completes the vibes → (Y/U/N) imagine ghost is actually smiling behind the mask → user141 I'm not.

lasvargas this is too cold, showing the opps fr → (Y/U/N) @/iphilgraves 😘 → gatzby BITCH U HAVE HIS INSTA?? → soapify do NOT bring his energy on my page. → j.price (Y/N). office. now. → (Y/U/N) awww 🙁 → user141 this doesn't surprise me

Liked by iphilgraves, sandroach and 463 others

gatzby FOAP!! view all 122 comments

user141 Calling an airstrike on you right now. → gatzby NO PLEASE

soapify GHOAP → user141 Die.

(Y/U/N) bros got an overbite fr → user141 I will literally knock out your teeth.

katelasss Never seen this angle of him → user141 And you never will again.

iphilgraves Not so tough with the jaw hanging out, now? → lasvargas gtfo before I bomb you → iphilgraves Thought we were teaming up to mutually bully him → gatzby I BLOCKED U??? → iphilgraves Whoops

j.price Did you take this before we got ambushed? → (Y/U/N) it was funny → j.price Kids 🤦‍♂️

Liked by walkingL, imrudyyyy and 658 others

(Y/U/N) did somebody say serve? view all 99 comments

user141 Serve your country. → (Y/U/N) I am????

soapify serve me a sandwich → (Y/U/N) bitch.

gatzby serve me that ASS → (Y/U/N) say less king

j.price Serve some revenge. → (Y/U/N) sir yes sir

lasvargas we all know this diva

katelasss Can you serve a response to your emails? → (Y/U/N) oops, yes ma'am

alexkellar scrolling feels like a divorce → (Y/U/N) it is

vladmak What core is this? → (Y/U/N) beat ur ass core.

Liked by konig, alexkellar and 833 others

(Y/U/N) he wanted to say hi (we’re stranded at sea) @/kganrusset view all 129 comments

kganrusset YOU wanted to take the photo 🫵 → (Y/U/N) details, details → kganrusset whatever 😒 lmk when you get tired of handing out my number to other bitches → soapify am I included in bitches? → (Y/U/N) are u fucking serious. → gatzby yeah. → kganrusset you can reach me at 348-

j.price How did you end up with Keegan out there? → (Y/U/N) girls trip! → kganrusset Please take them back.

user141 Ghosts crossover before gta6? → (Y/U/N) ghost joining the ghosts when?

soapify the mcu (military commander universe) is expanding → kilokarim ULF crossover again? → iphilgraves shadow company crossover? → (Y/U/N) when? → gatzby (Y/N) STOP. → lasvargas mexican special forces crossover? → konig KorTac crossover? → vladmak Konni crossover? → katelasss No.

j.price Why don't you have half of those people blocked? → (Y/U/N) my bad, cap → user141 They're not blocking them. → (Y/U/N) I like the drama 🤷‍♀️

—

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taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird @Bitchyzombietaco @lilwinchester67

[helioooss]

that one summer

synopsis: y/n recalls the summer that changed everything - the one where her and sana end up together

w/c: 2.9k

warnings: none, just cute stuff. not proofread so u can call me stupid 💀

a/n: i seriously can’t write fluff. it’s like i have to be profoundly sad all the time or else i can’t think. !!! how good is sailor song???

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"You know, you're not bad looking," Dahyun starts and you're already rolling your eyes, knowing what's about to come out of her foul mouth. "You just give off, like, really big lesbian loser vibes."

"You haven't seen me in over two months and that's the first thing you say?" you ask her, brows furrowing. She isn't wrong, though, but there is no shame in admitting that either. "And what if I'm a loser?"

"Well, my friend, your grand plan is winning over miss Minatozaki Sana this year, aren't you?" she teasingly raises both of her eyebrows at you. “You really need to grow some balls, Y/N, like look at her at least once when she’s up close - not just from afar.”

You throw a piece of your lettuce at her and she instantly grimaces. “Shut up, you know I can’t do that.”

“Why don’t you hook up with Yunjin? I think she’s still into you,” and she introduces that idea as soon as Sana walks past your table, making you look down at your shoes just to avoid her striking gaze. “Whoops, said that too loud, didn’t I?”

You’re taken aback when Sana pulls away from her friend group and sits herself next to you. Then she unexpectedly wraps an arm around you…but you just had to move away.

"Oh?" Sana's lips curve into a frown, noticing how you're practically pushing her off of you as you let out a nervous chuckle. You want nothing but some sort of phenomenon to swallow you whole and never let you back out right now. "You're ignoring me now, baby?"

And that's it; it's the end of it all. You can feel Dahyun's sharp (and confused) glare from the corner of your eye, she's probably screaming in her head - maybe with a tinge of desire to choke you dead for not telling her why the girl you've been pining over for the past four years has her arms wrapped around you. And kissing you.

The girl in front of you chuckles, her palm tapping your cheek to pull out of whatever trance you're in. "Earth to my beautiful Y/N," she places an innocent kiss on your cracked and dry lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you manage to choke out, breath hitching. No. Your cheeks are flushed, heart racing a million more beats than usual; everyone around you mirroring the same expression as your best friend. "What are you doing here?"

It must've sounded wrong to Sana cause now her face is feigned with hurt, mixed with a bit of anger. "Did you not want to see me?"

Dahyun decides that's her cue to leave. You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt, refusing to look up at her. "No, no, it's not that!"

"You didn't even introduce me to her," Sana's attention is too focused on you that she only notices your best friend's departure when she's steps ahead of you two. "And why are you acting so cold?"

You purse your lips, trying to ignore the prying looks you're receiving from over half of the campus. "Because..." you're dragging your words out, unsure of how to tell her that to everyone else's eyes, she's a goddess.

And you're just you.

"Spit it out," she says in that firm tone that used to scare you as she crossed her arms. "Are you seeing other bitches in campus? Too embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No, Sana!" you cry out, reaching for her arm. "That's the thing, this place has not seen me get a girl even if my life was on the line and now suddenly, you, you out of all people, are all over me."

"What?" her head is tilted and she looks so cute and you just wanna kiss that frown off her face.

Your frustration gets to the best of you. "I'm a loser who has not had a girlfriend since I stepped foot into this place - and literally, just literally, look at me."

She lets out a lopsided smile, ignoring half of what you just told her. "My gorgeous baby. You look amazing today - might need a haircut though. Your hair's looking a little too scruffy, yeah?"

"Yeah," you sheepishly say, getting distracted by how she can still look good in baggy blue denim jeans and a white baby tee. "I like my hair messy though."

She stands silent for a second, narrowing her eyes at you as she trails her fingers up and down your arm. "I bet you like that everyone swoons over it when it falls down your face."

"Yeah, bold of you to assume that people notice when my hair grows an inch longer - just like when they notice yours," you can't help but roll your eyes.

One thing you learned about Sana is that she's always jealous about the invisible girls that are crazy over you. To her, you have hoes, which comes off as a compliment but it's baffling to try and understand how she doesn't see that you have zero game. And you only pulled her by luck that summer night.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” she stares at you lovingly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Wanna walk me to my next class?“

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the summer that changed everything

The summer before your senior year was something else. It was hot, sticky and sweltering - the streets during daytime were almost empty as the city tucked themselves into the safety of their homes.

Today was no different. The sun was beginning to set and it offered no relief, remnants of the heat still hanging heavy in the air. You were walking along an empty street in your neighbourhood, skateboard in one hand and a Camus book on the other (you were trying to be mysterious, the park today had no one else but you and this guy from your active matter class).

From afar, you could see a sleek, shiny black car (a bit unusual for the place) in the middle of the road ahead of you and next to it was a girl in a white sundress as she paced around the area. She saw you approaching her and she couldn't wait any second longer - you were walking so slow and she just had to run towards you, heels clicking against the pavement.

You tightened your grip on your deck, prepared to deal with one of the many crackheads along this street. You've done it before and it wouldn't hurt to do it again.

When she was close enough to be perfectly seen by you, your knees began to melt and your head was screaming to run, but you stood frozen. It was Minatozaki Sana; head cheerleader and queen bee and she had bows in her hair and it was wavy and she looked sweaty and -

"Y/N!" she panted, seeming relieved at the sight of your familiar face. Your name rolled her tongue off like you could get used to it. "It's Y/N, right? We had the same classes last year."

Not really, you only had two lectures with her. Of course she wouldn't remember that though.

"Yeah, are you okay?" you asked in a worried tone despite the fluttering in your chest.

There was frustration etched on her face, something that you noticed she does whenever things don't go under her plans. "No, my car stalled and my phone's dead so I can't call for help. I'm supposed to be at a dinner party with my family!"

"I'd offer to help but believe it or not, I genuinely know nothing about cars. I'm like if a lesbian was useless,” you bit your tongue, regretting your existence already.

"You're gay?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, grabbing your cracked phone out of your pocket. "But here; maybe call a mechanic then an Uber?"

Her stare lingered, a tint of curiosity now plastered on her face. Her eyes travelled towards the skateboard and book on your head, then your tattoos before it finally landed on your phone. She took it without saying anything else.

You looked around, trying not to pry into her conversation with who you assumed was her mum. "Yeah, I'm bringing a friend, by the way. Just let everyone else know I'm not coming alone..."

Sana was too beautiful with her rosy cheeks and flawlessly sculpted lips. You could tell the goods took their time with her and instead of becoming the subject of art, she became the embodiment of it instead. Here you were, struck by her beauty once more and there was nothing you could do but watch as if she were something from a museum.

She could be mean at times, she had a status to protect after all, but it looked good on her. You were used to the taunting and sharp remarks from her friends despite her always telling them off - always trying to defend you for whatever reason.

"Let's go?" she tapped your shoulder, a grin on her face, and you just knew she was up to no good. "My driver's coming in ten minutes, we have to go to dinner with my family. Let's wait in my car."

"We what?" your eyes widened, smile faltering as you immediately transformed into a nervous wreck. "What? I can't, I have work in half an hour."

"You work at my cousin's record store, you'll be fine, he's going to be there."

"How do you know that?" you nearly shat yourself there, but you couldn't tell her that. Her eyes were striking and you didn't have the balls (literally) to say no so you allowed her to drag you around.

She reached out for your arm, her warm fingers wrapping around your skin to lead you into her car. “I have my sources.”

“I’m not even dressed for the occasion!”

“Just trust me, Y/N,” she replied, smiling.

And you did, because it was Sana, but her family would cook the shit out of the five dollars in your wallet as you stood in awe at the sight in front of you. You had always known that the Minatozaki's stood in a different tax bracket compared to everyone else - but you didn't expect Sana to live in an actual castle an hour away from the outskirts of the city.

Expensive black cars surrounded the sprawling gardens, they had people in front of the towering columns serving champagne glasses.

“Sana, I think I’m gonna shit myself.”

Over the next few days, Sana clung to you like you were the light of her life. Her family loved you instantly - and you were always welcomed back home. She would be at the record store while you were on shift, insisting to do a bit of manual labour because apparently, she had never lifted a box in her life.

You two spent hours sitting in the quiet corner of the shop - showing her all kinds of music that you assumed she wouldn’t be into. She would bring you lunch in her expensive heels (she eventually learned that sneakers were a must during working hours). Some days, she would sit at the skate park just watching you in your zone.

To you, she was Sana, but the feelings you harboured seemed to grow deeper and harder to keep. Like you could burst any moment.

During that night, your parents had just spent the entire night making their signature dishes for Sana. Coincidentally, their old restaurant was the one her dad had always taken her out to when she was younger.

You were unaware of the fact that it was the place she saw you for the first time in her life and just knew.

You drew the bottle of beer closer your lips, taking a big sip as you rocked back and forth on your seat. “Sorry about that - my parents are passionate about cooking.”

She chuckled. “How come they closed the restaurant?”

“Just financial issues, you know?” you answered truthfully, heart swelling with affection for her. “Dad got really sick one winter and with no one else to help mum, they decided to end that chapter.”

“Is he okay now?”

“Yeah, he is kicking life, just gets mad when he remembers that he has to look after himself.”

The air was much cooler now, leaves rustling as the wind carried a faint scent of the flowers in your mum’s garden. The sky was dotted with stars and the moonlight reflected against Sana’s hair - making her glow. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.

“So,” her voice was soft, the way she looked at you was filled with sincerity. “Last year of college, huh? What’s next for you, miss architect?”

You always knew what was ahead of you, but for some reason, sitting with Sana under the moonlight and her looking so beautiful, you felt scared to tell her. “Um, I think I’m heading overseas.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, the disappointment visible in her eyes even though she tried to look excited for you. “Why?”

“My uncle said I could make better money working for his place, you know, with the currency difference and all that,” you cleared your throat, putting the bottle on the floor. “It’ll just be good for my family, and there’s really nothing in store for me here. I think if I disappeared today the city wouldn’t even notice.”

Your attempt at trying to lighten the mood just made her scowl deeper. “But I’m here and I would notice your absence.”

“If it weren’t for us getting to know each other this summer, I genuinely think you wouldn’t.”

It was true, you always lived a completely different life from Sana. Even though she was nice compared to how her friends treated you, there was still a huge wall between you. As soon as summer would be over, you know she’s retreating back to her side of the wall and away from you, and you’ll be watching her from the sidelines again.

She was quiet, eyes studying you carefully from the side. She didn’t like that you were kind to everyone but yourself. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful person to ever exist - she wanted you to see that you meant so much to her.

And without really thinking, she pulled your face and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and tentative, and all too familiar, like coming home after a long day’s work knowing that the comfort of a kiss waits for you.

You held her closer, hands roaming down her back as her fingers danced in your hair. It was years worth of built up unspoken feelings and desire. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless as she leaned her forehead against yours. “Sana, I’m sorry -“

She kissed you again. “I’ve waited for this for so long,” her breath came in shallow. “You took your time.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s only midday and you feel like it’s been going on for too long. You start rambling to Sana (who’s feeding you her strawberries) about the way Professor Song spoke to you in class, making you sound like your theory is stupid. "And he goes - my question is not opinion-based Y/N, you should know better, blah blah blah," you mimic his voice, failing to notice Sana's stone-cold look.

"What does Yunjin mean to you?"

The question catches you off guard for a second, the answer running through your head at a quickened pace. "What makes you ask that?" You internally recoil because you should've just given her a straight answer.

"Why is your ex-girlfriend constantly clinging onto you in the same way I do?"

"We never even dated!" your tone is defensive, voice a pitch higher. "We kissed once at one of Miyeon's parties during our first year - you were even there...with Jungkook at the time."

"That's not the point," she clenches her jaw, eyebrows creased and you know she's angry when she doesn't even smile at the dog that just strutted past you two. "I saw her playing with your hair and hugging you, and you let her. You wouldn't even let me do that with you in public.”

"That's how she is with everyone!"

"You should not be a part of her everyone list," she said sharply, intertwining her fingers with yours. "I swear if she -"

You place a hand on her nape, gently pulling her closer so your lips could meet. "Don't worry, okay? As soon as you meet her, she'll cling to you in no time."

She licks her lips, tasting the lip balm she bought you. "You're wearing the Glossier one?"

"Yup," you say, leaning your head on her shoulder. "You caught me at a bad time when you kissed me this morning and it was embarrassing - I had dry ass lips!"

"My favourite," she giggles, making you push her to the side. "Why did you think we weren't dating?"

"You never asked me," you told her, curiosity piquing when she moves in front of you and kneels down. “I just sort of assumed you wouldn’t even acknowledge me on campus - what exactly are you doing right now?”

“Really?” she rolls her eyes at you. “I don’t sleep around. You really think you could get away with giving me forehead kisses in the morning without becoming my girlfriend?”

“Well, don’t people do that?”

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” she holds your hand with adoration written all over her eyes. “Let me call you mine, always.”

You bite your lip at her cheekiness, not knowing Sana could show a playful side around everyone. “Then you’re going to have to officially meet my friends when the day is over because they always said I could never get one.”

“Am I your girlfriend now?”

“Sana, you’ve always been my girlfriend in my head.”

[elysians-adventures]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐈. Part 1

masterpost

Being a kindergarten teacher, you have your fair share of troubles regarding loud kids. But you didn't realise that on this school trip, a certain someone will make you experience your worst fear in your entire teaching career.

5 kids + 1 manchild = chaos. This wasn't the brother of Yuuji Itadori you were expecting!

“Miss! Nobara stole my toy!” 

“No I did not! Shut up!” 

The wailing of children made you exasperated, watching Nobara's and Megumi's squabble before the class boarded the coach. The brown haired girl had stolen Megumi's dog toy, one of a pair. Your lips puckered, crossing your arms:

“Nobara, give it back. Remember what we said about taking things without permission?”

The little girl gave a whimper, glancing downwards with a look of guilt, “It's mean…” 

“And?” You asked, putting on your best teacher-sounding tone.

“...And if we want something, ask first~!” She repeated in a jingle, obviously something that you had instilled in your students' brains for some time.

Nobara looked to her right, turning to Megumi and stuttering out, “Can I play with it?” 

“No!” Megumi snatched the plush back, earning a scowl of disgust from the other child. 

“Meanie! Meanniee! Go away!”

You had been a kindergarten teacher for two years now, watching classes grow up and leave, but this was by far the most boisterous of them all. Nobara Kugisaki, Megumi Fushiguro and Yuji Itadori were all the resident troublemakers, though, speaking of Itadori– he didn't show up yet. You look around, trying to spot locks of pink hair within the sea of excitable children.

Last week, quite spontaneously, you had been told that there was a new parent chaperone joining the field trip; Yuji's older half-brother– Choso Kamo. Assuming that you hadn't seen anyone with pigtails with the little rascal alongside them, you assume they must be both running late. 

“Megumi, let that little brat play with the toy, both of you screaming is pissing me off,” a gruff voice spoke. You turned back to the arguing duo, noticing a newcomer patting– rather, manhandling Megumi's head. Toji Fushiguro. 

“But I don't wanna!”

“Do it, or I'll sell you.” 

The black haired child gave a groan, finally nodding to Nobara's request. Internally sighing, you gave a wry smile to Toji, trying to telepathically remind him not to swear around kids. He seemed to get the message, holding his hands up in false defence. 

“Whoops. I'll do better, Miss L/N,” he joked in a high pitch, earning an eye roll from you. 

You two had a close friendship, meeting each other in university and later named godmother of Megumi by his late wife (the man would never bother with sentimental stuff like that). 

“Have you seen Yuji? Or his brother? The coach leaves soon…” you shot the question towards Toji, who had also taken up the role of parent chaperone by Megumi's incessant requests (begging). 

“Yuji Itadori…?” He paused, thinking, before his face contorted into a laugh, “Oh! That kid! Nah. The one that plays with Megumi? I'm friends with his older brother, y’know?” 

“Oh?” You shot a questioning look towards the seeming off handed comment Toji gave. Choso didn't seem like the type of guy to keep Toji around as a friend, but you were always willing to be proved wrong.

“Yea. Goes to the same MMA club as me, shit guy. Probably running late, dick stuck in some bitch and forgot the time.”

You give Toji a hard elbow at his rather loud tone near the kids. He smiles, shrugging carelessly. Though, it did make you wonder, who exactly was he talking about? Yuji's older brother had always seemed like a well adjusted guy, if you ignored his tendency to act emo. And he was always punctual to stuff, so this situation made you slightly worried. Itadori had no trouble cheering up the entire class, his selfless nature not lost on you. Whoever raised him did an amazing job… 

“Should probably load these fuc– kids… onto the coach. Where's Nanami?” Toji looked around, before spotting the blond-haired teacher. He turned on his heel without a goodbye, walking towards him. 

Toji was right, it was getting late, the driver was probably irritated at the entire ordeal. You gave a sigh, hoping that the two finally would show up. 

You rolled your shoulders back, and raised your chin, standing tall.

Clap! Clap!

The storm of children grew silent at a moment's notice. 

“Good! Go to Mr. Nanami and sign yourselves in! Straight line, remember!” You gave them instructions, seeing them clamber towards the two chaperones. The line was not as straight as you'd hoped, but it was fine enough for a group of six year olds.

Now, onto the matter of the late chaperone and child. You grasped at your phone within your pocket, opening your contacts. As policy, or rather as common sense, you saved all the parents’ numbers onto your phone. You scroll until you find ‘Y’, scanning over the names. 

… ‘Yuji's Brother’

‘Yuji's Brother’

‘Yuko's Mother’ …

You frown, when were they two? Probably a glitch. You tapped into one of the names, waiting.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ri–

“What?” The deep voice that responds makes you jump,  absolutely not what you were expecting. This absolutely was not Choso, unless he had a vocal chord surgery or something. In the background, there were sounds of humming cars. Traffic jam, perhaps? You try to maintain a level of professionalism.

“Hi, I'm calling regarding the school trip. I'm wondering–” you were cut off by a youthful voice. 

“Gaah– Sukuna! Hurry up! We're late! I'm sorry Miss L/N! Hurry up, hurry up!” Yuji's frantic tone makes you smile, the boy obviously panicked at the prospect of missing the thing he had been looking forward to for months. 

“Shut up! Fuckin’ bastard… yea, we're almost here.” The voice, which you took as ‘Sukuna’, mumbled in an annoyed tone. So this was Toji's MMA friend? You could tell why they were friends now. 

Thumping sounds were heard in the background, but you ignored them, continuing: “Well, I'm sure Yuji wouldn't like to miss the trip. The coach is leaving in a few minutes, but if you need more time I can talk to the driver for you. How far are you?”

“Stop kicking my seat, you little shit! We're five minutes away, just wait,” the last part was hissed in a commanding tone, a scowl unknowingly painting your face. You already didn't like him, and you were never good at hiding your emotions. 

“Well, alright, I'll call you back soon if you aren't here.” Not wanting to hear the rest of the sibling spat between them, you promptly hung up. The blatant swearing, insults, and punctuality. He was going to be worse than Toji. 

Instantly after the call, you tap onto your work email, trying to see whether there had been some mixup with the guardians. It wasn't a huge deal, Yuuji was going to get here regardless and the job was easy enough for a teenager if anything. You scroll down to the form submitted by Choso Kamo– only to find that he had pulled out at the last minute, being replaced by a ‘Sukuna R. Itadori’.

Groaning, you turned back to the group, who had been dwindling to around ten kids in line. 

“Nanami!” You called, “Can you tell the coach driver to wait a little longer?”

The pitiful look on your face managed to soften Nanami's stern gaze– though not fully. With tight lips, he gave a slight nod. Something told you that the five minutes were not so true. 

.

.

.

Fifteen minutes passed before a car pulled near the group. A black Toyota, its slick form resembling a teardrop. You watched as the backdoor flew open, Yuji Itadori beelining straight for you. Backpackless, and without a care in the world, he gripped onto the fabric on your legs as he neared. 

“Miss L/N!” He hugged your leg, “I'm sorry! Can I get on the bus–”

“Oi, brat!” 

Both of your attentions were pulled back towards the car, the happy reunion making you momentarily forget that there was supposed to be another different person here after all. 

A tall man emerges from the vehicle, a tiny Spiderman backpack slung over broad shoulders. Jesus, how tall was he? About six foot, you surmised. He donned a tight black vest, with matching grey zip up hoodie and sweatpants pulled over himself– obviously in a rush, considering the creasing. The man combs through pink hair with his fingers, giving you a glower.

He neared the pair of you, chucking the bag towards the smaller child. Yuji caught it, blowing a raspberry towards him… this was his brother, was it not? In reality, you had completely forgotten that Yuuji had an older brother directly related to him. You've gotten so used to Choso picking him up after school, you've just defaulted to him.

“Miss! ‘Kuna made me late! Blame it on him!”

“Now, now, it's alright. The coach hasn't left yet, but catch up with it now! Who knows, it might just drive off without you now…” You feigned a face of worry as you crouched to meet his height, looking towards Nanami. The smaller of the pink haired duo was alarmed, grasping his backpack and sprinting towards the teacher.

 He was too fast for a six year old, you knew that for sure. 

Standing to your full height, you face Sukuna, trying to ignore how you comically dwarfed him. Are you short because he was tall, or was he tall because you were short? Such philosophical questions were pushed to the back of your mind as you nodded for him to follow you to the coach. You earn a grunt in response, the muscle bound man starting to walk ahead of you.

 ‘Alright, you don't like to follow, noted…’ You think. 

Trying to make small talk on the thirty second journey, you decide to bring up Toji as a common interest: “I heard you go to the same fighting club as Toji. What was it, boxing?” You purse your lips, thinking. You messed up on purpose to see if that would strain any more conversation out of him.

“MMA,” he answered bluntly. A pause, nothing else came out of his mouth. 

‘Alright, the silent type, noted…’ You think.

The both of you arrive at the coach, the driver giving you the most piercing glare you might have ever experienced in your life. It almost made you shudder. Scanning over the bus, you make sure everyone's seated. You assumed Nanami had already checked the kid's seat belts with his methodical nature, but one more pass through couldn't hurt. Letting Sukuna figure out his own seating situation, you walk and check the seat belts until you make your way towards the back, seeing a specific trio fiddling with Yuji's seatbelt. 

“Ah, let me do it sweetie,” you took the seat belts and swiftly buckled it, patting it to signify the task was done. 

“Thank you, miss,” they hummed respectively. 

“You're welcome.”

You make your way back up the coach, looking now for free seats. Nanami was sitting alongside Junpei, trying to break up a squabble between him and Mahito. Toji was sitting in the only lone seat at the very front of the coach, scrolling on his phone. That left you… your eyes narrow. 

Next to Sukuna? You just hoped he wasn't one of those people that smelt when you got near them. You sat.

He wasn't, rather the opposite, a subtle cologne filling your senses. Although, his man spread did invade a bit into your space, so you tried to reclaim it by also man spreading– though not as blatantly. 

“This ’s to a museum, right?” He questioned, staring at his phone. Glancing at it, you see that he has a privacy screen. Considering the comment Toji had thrown out previously, maybe you didn't want to see what was on his screen.

“Huh? Yea, the national museum. They're all so excited,” you smile earnestly, “especially Yuji. He hasn't stopped talking about it since he found out.”

“Hm, ‘s that so,” he slurred out in response. 

‘Alright, the coach ride will be in silence then, noted…’ Your eye twitched. Could this guy at least act amiably? Discarding Yuji and Sukuna's brotherly relationship– which you expected would be at least rocky, it seemed there was not a bone of politeness in this man towards strangers. 

You could feel someone's stare on you, intense. Peeking around you, your sight finally landed on Sukuna's red irises boring through you. Did you fuck up somehow, and now he was going to fillet you using his MMA skills? You quickly break eye contact, internally sighing. 

Sinking into the leather-bound seat, you tried to distract yourself, choosing to think of all the mess the kids would make during the hour trip. How many would throw up?

.

.

.

Answer: one. 

Mahito must have fed Junpei something earlier, because the projectile vomit that came out of the poor kid was not natural in any sense of the word. You almost feared he'd straight up die. Soon calling his mother to pick him up, Yuji and Megumi said bye to their dear friend as he disbanded the bus. 

Nanami's pristine suit got, needless to say, utterly demolished. The teacher scrambled off the coach when they arrived, in search of an actual toilet in place of the coach's small dingy one to clean up at. If anything, though, it would be more beneficial to buy a new shirt. 

“Take care of them!” He bellowed as he rushed into a nearby bakery, trying not to pay mind to the dirtied water dripping down his shirt. 

“Okay!” 

Now, to get them off. A task easier said than done. 

Thankfully, most of them were capable enough to pry their seatbelts off of themselves, though one or two needed some help. 

“It's okay, sweetie, I'll do it.”

Yuji gave you a beam, “Thank y–”

“You can take your own seatbelt off, brat. Don't waste my time,” Sukuna's voice came from behind you, making you jump. Glancing at him, you could tell he was towering over the pair of you– arms crossed. 

“It's fine, Sukuna. Yuji's just tired from all that sitting, no?” You coo towards the boy, who nods vigorously. 

“Yea! I‘m tired!” Itadori fakes a yawn, and you pinch his cheek: “Let's not go overboard, now. Off you pop!” 

Yuji grabs Nobara and Megumi's hands, and rushes off the coach, barging past Sukuna. The action earns a giggle from you, not lost to Sukuna's death stare. 

“Let's get off before they all run away from Toji,” you hummed, trying to mutually make your way past Sukuna. He didn't let you pass, stocky frame blocking the way. 

You stand for a second, waiting for him to move, before you speak up, “Umm… excuse me.” Trying to slip past between the seats and him, he finally let you go with another hum, this time sounding a bit more pleased. You frown, what was that about?

Coming out of the coach, the children stand timidly at the side of it, Toji watching over them with a bored gaze.

“Y'know, Y/N, I regret this already. This shit is so boring,” he mutters under his breath as you approach. He turns to the other ‘parent’ chaperone, smirking, “I wish you were there last Saturday, y'know…” 

Tuning out of the conversation, turning to the kids. Their chatter filled the air, so you rolled your shoulders back ready to clap– 

“Oi, shut up!” Sukuna clicked his fingers alongside the bellow, and it all fell silent without a moment's notice.

What… What was this power? It took you months of training just for them to hear your claps and calls for order, but this outsider manages to silence your class at the click of a finger? You stood in awe. 

“Fall in line! Anyone out of it will get chucked in a dinosaur's maw, got it?”

As if choreographed, the children lined up perfectly. Not one shoe or hair out of place. You weren't sure if they knew what ‘maw’ meant, but you felt as if the message got through without problem. 

He nodded towards the line, passing you full responsibility now. Perhaps, you had underestimated him. You nod back in thanks, a small smile threatening to appear on your lips. Sukuna turns back without a welcome on his lips, looking unimpressed. 

“Alright, sweeties! I know you are all excited, but we have to enter the museum quietly, all right? After we all sign in, we'll wait for Nanami and split into groups. C'mon,” you go in front of the queue of children leading them in. 

They follow you in, followed behind by Sukuna and Toji still talking– which you humorously think they're a little too like ducklings following their mother. But that metaphor quickly fizzled out when you realised in this situation, you would be the mother. You could never imagine raising them…

The museum had tall roofs, and its pillars resembled an ornate grecian style. Arches weaved above the roof, supporting the building, the interior remaining the modest brown of the brick. 

The class looked up in childish awe, eyes shining at the gigantic structure, gazing up at the pterodactyl replicas hanging as if in flight. You manage to quickly check in with the receptionist, and were told that two extra tour guides were on their way.

Nanami soon came back with a new shirt, the plastic wire of the price tag still hanging from the collar. His face was still turned in the iconic stern look, a glint of disgust still evident from the twitch of his lip. 

“Groups of five, quickly,” he stated with mechanical efficiency, trying to split the class equally. Without turning, he addressed the adults, “I'll be taking a tour guide with me. Toji, take one too. Sukuna and Y/N will stay together. Take Yuji with you, or he'll run off.” 

You didn't even have time to argue back at the pairing, you opened your mouth and suddenly there was a group of toddlers grasping at your feet as if you were some sort of deity. You didn't even have to corral the kids, Nobara and Megumi staring up at you expectantly.

“Let's go, miss!”

“I want to see some Egyptian stuff!”

“Bleh! Boring… Dinosaurs!”

“Mummies! Mummies!”

“ ‘Kuna! Mr. Kento said: you AND miss!” 

Yuji was busy trying to pull Sukuna closer towards your shared group. He was quickly pushed off, Sukuna finally rolling his eyes and neared you keeping a few paces behind, his expression a mixture of boredom and (shared) irritation. You didn’t seriously have to spend the next two or more hours with this self-absorbed prick, did you?

“Okay, okay! We're going!" you finally managed to say, smiling despite the chaos unfolding around you. 

As the groups started moving, you noticed Nanami leading his group with his usual stoic demeanour, already taking over the guide's job and explaining the historical significance of the museum's layout. You almost felt bad at the despondent look at the tour guide’s face, pouting miserably as they followed Nanami around. 

Toji, on the other hand, seemed to have his hands full with a particularly energetic child who was attempting to scale his back onto his shoulders. You worried they were going to fall, but that wasn't an issue when he took hold of the kid by their collar accompanied with stern talking to. 

The museum had massive, great pillars at every corner with vast displays. There were sections which you methodically scoured through, first the Chinese artefacts, then the Egyptian– old kingdom and new kingdom split into two different rooms. 

You had spent a bit too long reading about a mummy pair, brothers from what the hieroglyphs were supposedly saying, too invested in your own world to realise it had gone scarily quiet. Too quiet for a group of children, nevertheless if that group contained Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you rip your attention away slowly from the mud-stained coffins, as if you were trying to avoid seeing the scene in front of you.

 There were two reasons for this silence: someone had gotten hurt, or they all ran off. You especially hoped it wasn't the latter as Sukuna was meant to be watching them, and the register was meant to be done in time for lunch soon…

Your eyes come upon the second reason. Your small group of 5 disappeared into thin air. At least Sukuna seemed to be gone too, hoping that he had simply led them off into the new kingdom room. With a quickened step, you make your way across the hallway opposite.

Nothing.

What? Did they really leave you behind? Your lower lip protrudes as you're in thought, pacing aimlessly further down a corridor. Perhaps they have gone further down, one of them wanted to see dinosaurs, or something along those lines.

“You seen them?” A nonchalant tone asks, followed by a slurp.

“Have I…  seen them?” You spit back incredulously, your optimistic daydream of the pink haired bastard looking after the group quickly shattered like glass. He was standing next to a display of old Japanese artefacts further down, avoiding eye contact. Somehow, he found the time to pick up a drink at the museum cafe.  Thankfully, you hadn't picked up on this fact, or else you're sure you would have strangled him. 

“I thought you were looking after them,” Sukuna states, unbothered by the lazy look in his eyes. He gestures towards the exhibit he must’ve been distracted by, a large wooden sculpture of a god, “Kōmokuten, Heian era of Japan. Interesting?” The last part of the sentence was worded as a rhetorical question, followed by a nod by the man as if agreeing with his own statement. 

He continues: “Not interested? Anyway, where the hell are they? I thought you were looking after the–” 

“No, you were looking after them,” your angered whisper-yells were countered by a scoff by the pink haired man, sipping the beverage in his hand. You almost wanted to knock it clean out and pour it all over that stupid dyed hair. Actually… was it dyed?

Now that you think about it, Yuuji always seemed to have pink hair too, though the underside was brown. Did they have special brotherly hair dying sessions? 

“They’re kids, how fuckin’ far could they have ran?”

Tuning back into the conversation, it was your turn to scoff, “They're fucking kids! They could be on fucking Mars by now for all we know. Oh god, okay… let's follow the hallway down.” 

Attempting (but failing) to mask your worry, you bit your lip as you rushed past him and all the– truthfully interesting– exhibits. Another time, maybe. There was a loud slurp, before you heard thudding footsteps behind you. 

“Do you even know where you're going?” His gruff voice asks, you can feel his head peeking out from behind to look at the side of your face. 

“... Down there.”

“Stop. Fucking stop for a second, jesus. Let's look at a map of this place before you get us lost too.”

Sukuna grabs your shoulders, attempting to pull you back to the hallway you were previously. You wanted to spit some snarky comment about how you weren't going to be in this situation if it wasn't for him, but your tongue caught itself. 

You give in, sighing, and trace your steps back to a large display board. Right now, you were in the Japanese section, so if you followed it down– it split into two directions. Not so good. 

“They wanted to go see the dinosaurs,” you mutter to yourself in revelation, bending over to see the section on the board lower down. 

A loud sip, “Then let's go.”

You turn your head, ready to agree, until you see him nonchalantly texting on his phone. Your eye twitches.

“Put that away,” you hiss, uncaring to try to keep an air of friendliness, “You lost them and you can't even be fucking bothered to look. We have to get them back in at least–” you look at your phone, “-- at least the next 20 minutes. Can you please just help and not act condescending?” 

He switches his attention to you, his eyes glaring at you. Unmoving in his gaze, he raises an eyebrow. 

“Fine.”

“Thanks,” you spit out, full venom, obviously not thankful. Standing to your full height, you turn on your heel without caring whether the man was following you or not. But the thudding footsteps behind you signified as much.

You passed back by the Japanese displays, taking a cursory glance over them. Really, the statue Sukuna had tried showing you didn't pique that much of your interest. It looked rather, strange if anything. The man must have unique tastes. 

As you rush past them, you spot a certain black haired boy staring at a scroll– also from the Heian period. 

“Megumi!” You call out, relieved at having found at least one of the children. Sukuna grabs the boy's hand before you had the chance to scold him, and does your job for you:

“Who told you to run off, you brat?” He spits, crumpling the cup underneath his fingers. Megumi, unperturbed by the harsh words (perhaps training he had gotten from having Toji as a father), stared nonchalantly at the taller man. 

“They went to go look at the T-Rex, but I said I wanted to see this,” Megumi points towards the scroll, and you look to follow. Sukuna huffs, unsatisfied by the answer but knowing he isn't going to get much more tightens his grip around Megumi's hand.

“One down, four to go,” he glances at you with a humorous tone, but without a smile to match. 

You think it cute that Sukuna holds the little boy's hand in such a way, making sure he can't run off. He must be used to Yuuji's antics. Talking of Yuuji, Sukuna doesn't seem to be very nervous at all at the prospect of losing him.

“He's fine,” he states, sharp and short. The twitch in his brow isn't lost on you, however. Megumi yawns, trying to slip out of Sukuna's graso and back into your own– but the man pulls harshly, hissing. 

“Don't run again, jesus. These kids…”

With a smirk, you walk ahead of them, “They're probably running from you.”

–

Unfortunately, during your walk– halfway to the ‘dinosaurs’-- the three of you weren't able to spot any other lone children. Or rather fortunately, which indicated that they were still together. 

Sukuna had now resorted to letting Megumi piggyback him. The little boy rested his head against salmon-pink locks, eyes closed as if in dream. 

“Hey, why haven't you just called the museum staff?” The pink haired man asks, staring at you.

You blink, frowning. You can feel your cheeks burning up, the sensation uncomfortable, “It's embarrassing…” 

Your words were barely heard, so Sukuna furrows his brows: “Huh?”

“It's embarrassing,” you repeat, not daring to look behind you. 

There was a pregnant pause.

“Who the fuck cares about embarrassing?” He scoffs. 

“I do. It's my first proper trip and I've lost them. Plus, I know where they are! What's the big deal!”

Honestly, you don't believe your words. You knew kids, and you knew how small their 

attention span was. They could have already switched sections by now, or even wandered out. That sent a chill down your spine.

But for now, you were willing to hazard being irresponsible for the sake of your dignity. Not very good, is it?

 “At least it's like a… two minute walk,” you reasoned to yourself. Your steps hurried. In truth, if you didn't find them right now, you were willing to go straight for the intercom. Stupid you–

“Miss!” A higher pitched voice wailed out.

> part 2 (wip)

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

��Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[endataraxia]

hello hi wifi bet you won't do a scenerio where you're baking together with the pastas ‼️ I want messy ass kitchen shenanigans ‼️ who'd make a mess yet have delicious food? super clean but disgusting food?

if you don't wanna do this it's ok 🐧

hey penpen!! dw about it, since this scenario is a wholesome one i’ll try to write the wholesome fanon version of them so here goes

cw: wholesome. if you're looking for dark content, I'M SORRY word count: 482

toby would MESS THE FUCK UP like no joke the counter is full of flour there are chocolate chips everywhere. toby goes “CHOCOLATE CHIPS CHOCOLATE CHIPS—WOO!” it’s to the point you can’t tell if the whooping is real or if it’s a vocal tic.

the food you made comes out…decent. because all he did was just dump a full bag of chips into the cookie dough. no way in hell are you letting him touch the food. oh, but cleanup is going to be a pain.

ben can’t bake so he just watches you.

actually you don’t know if he can’t touch the stuff because he’s an apparition or if it’s because he just…doesn’t want to.

baking with ben is miserable. you cannot convince me otherwise. but he eats the food like a little bitch anyway.

bonus: he calls the whole mansion over to eat the cookies while you’re asleep so you have none left for breakfast/snacks tomorrow.

jeff… uh. i can see him absolutely torching the place. baking with him is barely baking, it’s more of trying to get him not to blowtorch the dough to bake it.

“y/n what if i blowtorch the whole thing” no. no, jeff. that’s not how it works.

but if you’re dating jeff, chances are you’re the type to let your intrusive thoughts win anyway.

there is no food when you’re done.

ej is actually decent!! he’s calm and collected and he knows what he’s doing. it’s more likely that you don’t know what you’re doing and he guides you.

oh, he stands behind you and gently holds your hands and guides you in kneading the dough, and you feel his breath on your neck and he says “yes, that’s it, darling. you’re doing so well.”

you’re too busy blushing by the end of it to actually savor the cookies. and all you can think of when eating the leftovers the next day is how he held you…

you’re saving baking with ej for a special occasion. your heart can’t handle this.

not sure if you want slenderman but i really cannot imagine him baking as the operator. but i did say it’ll be wholesome so here goes

slender’s tentacles basically do everything for you. “don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll do all the work. sit back and relax, my dear.” he reassures you that it’s not a burden and insists, but when you whine that it’s not fun when you don’t do it together, he lets up.

he still doesn’t let you do a lot of work though. but occasionally he’ll scoop up a bit of dough from the bowl and feed you, so you can’t complain.

if you decide to cheekily suck on his finger, he’ll chuckle.

“my dear, we can save that for later. it is unsanitary.” you pout as he washes his hands again.

the cookies come out delicious though. you can’t complain.

and he feeds you by hand. and you get to suck on his fingers playfully. you can’t complain.

[shebecamethesun]

From My Heart to Yours

(For Amangela Holiday Week Day 1 - Secret Santa. Thanks @zillaphoneswag for the prompt 💗)

"Okay, bitches. Gather 'round so we can exchange gifts before somebody vomits!" Ian announces, his voice laced with amusement and alcohol.

The cast members let out a chorus of "Woooh!" and "Fuck yeah!"

Amanda, who has been in Angela's space all night long, pulls the shorter girl towards the center of Ian's living room. Angela let out a tiny yelp as Amanda made her sit down on the sofa a lot less gentler than she usually does. Her eyebrows were almost touching, and she had an unreadable expression on her face. She tried to stand back up, but Amanda was towering over her. "You will stay seated on this sofa, Angela. Don't move."

"Amanda!"

"Don't. Move," Amanda repeats in a harsh whisper, the tone of her voice unamused.

"Sober Amanda is not fun," Angela murmurs, which earned her a piercing gaze from the tall woman. She didn't know what was going on with Amanda, but safe to say that her being in a no-nonsense mood at the cast members only party was preventing her friend from enjoying the night. "Let's get some drinks in you, honey."

Amanda murmurs something that she didn't really understand.

"What?"

Amanda sighs before sitting beside Angela. "Nothing, Angela. Just stay still, okay? I don't want you going anywhere."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here beside you," she replies almost immediately. Whoops, that sounded a little more intense than she meant it to. The shots of vodka she took earlier were taking their effect, making her lose her inhibitions.

"As you should be," she hears Amanda say.

"Huh?" Angela wasn't sure if she was tipsy or what Amanda said didn't make sense. "What do you mean, Manda?"

"Beside me," Amanda says in a low voice, making sure that this moment remained unnoticed by everyone else. "Right beside me. Not making the same mistake of leaving you alone even for a second."

Oh.

Angela was about to inquire if she was talking about what she thinks she's talking about when she hears one of their friends clear their throat in front of them.

"Hey, Ange."

Suddenly, she feels an arm being wrapped around her shoulder.

Real subtle, Amanda, Angela wants to say. But if she was right about what got Amanda's panties in a twist, then she shouldn't really tease her.

"Hi, Damien," she greets back, flashing him a friendly smile. She really shouldn't risk it. Not when she can feel how tensed up Amanda was beside her.

"I'd like to apologize again for the  dare or drink thing. I know you said it was just a game, but I wanted to make sure I didn't cross any boundaries with you."

Was the arm around her shoulder squeezing her tighter, or was Angela just drunk?

But she couldn't be drunk. Not yet. She wasn't even fully tipsy yet.

So Angela knew that she was right. The person beside her was pissed. Not at her, but clearly at the person in front of them.

"Damien, it's okay," Angela says reassuringly.

A very very soft scoff left Amanda's mouth when she said that, but Angela pretended not to notice. Instead, she kept her eyes on Damien, prompting him to continue with his apology.

"I really didn't want to drink and the card said to kiss the most attractive person in the room," he begins. Angela nodded, already knowing where this was going. "And well, you know, you were the only single person in the room. I figured it was a safe choice. Don't get me wrong, you're really attractive but-"

As soon as the word attractive leaves Damien's mouth, Amanda stands up. Both Angela and Damien turned to look at her, confused, but Amanda ignored their gazes and called out for Ian instead.

"Hey, Ian. Are we going to exchange gifts or what?"

Angela holds back the laugh that was forming in her throat. She really shouldn't make fun of Amanda right now. So instead, she turns to Damien once more.

"Damien, I promise I'm okay. We're okay. It was a drinking game, and it meant nothing, okay?" That last part wasn't really directed at Damien. Of course he knew that it meant nothing.

She was saying it to Amanda. Amanda, who was jealous that Damien kissed Angela in a game of dare or drink.

 

It would be funny if Angela's heart wasn't beating wildly at the thought of Amanda being jealous. It would have even been funnier if Damien didn't look so confused at how disruptive Amanda was being. It would have been really really funny to explain to him why.

Because it didn't make sense.

It didn't make sense that Amanda had been territorial all night, not leaving her side even if she had been asked multiple times to sing karaoke.

It didn't make sense that the jealousy that was radiating off of Amanda's body was so intense that she's pretty sure Courtney and Shayne (who have been subtly observing them since Damien came up to her) were walking over to pull their friend away and save him.

It didn't make sense that Amanda was pissed that Angela and Damien shared a kiss.

It really didn't make sense to Angela because for the past six months, she never wanted to kiss anyone else but Amanda.

But Amanda never did.

Not seriously anyway.

The few times she tried to were for bits, and there was no setting up the punchline to how Angela feels for her best friend.

This wasn't a joke for Angela. She was in love with Amanda. She wanted to be with her. She wanted to hold her in her arms as they fall asleep. She wanted to kiss her.

And now Amanda was jealous that someone else kissed her.

It would have been so funny if Angela didn't feel the hope rising from her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, Amanda was in love with her, too.

This wasn't the proper place to sort out their feelings and talk about them though, so Angela decided to file that away for later. She ground herself, trying her best to tamp down the hopefulness that was now blooming inside her.

And what better way of grounding herself than to grab Amanda's hand and hold on to it tightly?

"We're good here, Damien, yeah?" Angela asks, hoping that Damien would take the hint and leave.

A smile appears on his face and he nods. "Yeah, we are. Thanks, Angela," he then faces Amanda, whose expression remains unreadable. "Bye, Manda!"

Someday, Angela would explain to Damien why Amanda was acting weird that night, but for tonight, all she could do was pull Amanda back down on the sofa and lean on her shoulder.

"If I'm staying on this sofa, then you are, too" she says lightly, hoping the tone of her voice lessens Amanda's edge. "Stay beside me, Amanda. You're not going anywhere."

When she thinks about this moment weeks from now, Angela would realize that Amanda didn't say anything in return.

Instead, Amanda smiles. The first genuine smile she had since her mood turned. Her arm finds its way back around Angela's shoulder, and as the two relax against each other, the tension seemingly melting away, Amanda surges forward and kisses the top of Angela's head.

---

 

After much pleading and teasingly promising that she would not be caught up in a game of dare or drink, Amanda finally lets Angela get her a drink. 

 

She was still pissed at Damien even though she was very much aware that she was being childish, but she couldn't help it. Can you blame her? She has been trying to kiss Angela for a while now, and she had always been rejected by the shorter girl. But one drinking game and suddenly, someone on the Smosh cast had kissed the lips she had been imagining kissing for so long.

 

It didn't help that it was Damien who kissed Angela. If it was literally anybodv else, she might have just laughed it off, maybe she would have even teased Angela, but no. Damien was single. Damien was funny. Damien was also being actively shipped with Angela online. And Amanda didn't like that. She might have been keeping track of who the fans were shipping with Angela more often, but she would never admit to that. (It was her, by the way. It was insane how many people have noticed how Amanda looks at Angela.)

 

So when she came back to the living room after getting Angela water and saw that Damien was an inch away from her, Amanda swears things moved in slow motion, just like in the movies. Unfortunately, unlike in the movies, she was powerless to stop the kiss in time. So she stood there, water in hand, and watched as Damien and Angela's lips touched. 

 

It didn't even last two seconds, but it was enough to make Amanda's heart hurt.

 

She wanted to be the one kissing those lips. She wanted to be the only person Angela was kissing. She wanted to be Angela's... She wanted to be Angela's, period. 

 

And hopefully, when she gets enough drinks in her system, she would be able to tell Angela that.

 

But for now, she made herself content watching Angela from the sofa. She was zoned out for a second, but when she looked at Angela again, she seemed to be having a panicked conversation with Chanse. She wanted to get up and ask what was wrong, but she feels like she's on her way to becoming unbearable tonight. So she stays put and waits until Angela finds her way back to her.

 

She'll wait.

 

---

 

"What the fuck do you mean it's a White Elephant party?!" Angela exclaimed, trying to keep her voice in a hushed whisper. 

 

"Angela, did you not read the memo?" Chanse asked with his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes seemingly boring a hole through her soul. "It's a White Elephant party. Anyone can steal anyone else's gift!"

 

"That's bullshit!" A few people looked at Angela's way, but she was too busy stressing over this new information to care. "If anyone can steal my gift, then this secret santa is bullshit!"

 

Angela was really frustrated about this. She worked her ass off to have the perfect gift and was happy about it and excited to give it and then she learns that her gift might not even end up with the name she worked so hard to get? Bull. Shit.

 

"This is unfair! I have the perfect gift for Amand-" Angela suddenly stops, realizing she said her secret santa out loud.

 

"Angela..." 

 

She gulped. She was in trouble.

 

Chanse immediately clocked her. She knew there was no getting out of this. Suddenly, the ends of her top looked really good.

 

"You told me you picked Tommy."

 

"I did."

 

"Angela..." Chanse repeats. She hates it when he doesn't just let up. She ends up telling him the truth.

 

"Fine," she relents. "I did pick Tommy originally."

 

"And then?" he asks expectantly. Chanse waits. He wasn't an idiot, he knew exactly what happened. He just wanted to hear the confession from Angela.

 

Angela gives him a pointed look before telling him what happened. "Okay, so last week I had to shoot a Games vid, remember?" He nods, and she continues. "I got to set a bit early because Amanda was still in a meeting for Smosh Mouth. So I hung out with Spencer to kill time. Somehow we ended up talking about Christmas shopping..."

 

"You swapped with Spencer?!" Chanse asks, looking like a scandalized Southern woman. "Do you want people to know just how obsessed you are with our friend?"

 

"Okay, first, shut up. I am not obsessed with her," she retorts, even if in actuality, she thinks she is. At least a little bit. Amanda is a literal work of art. Who wouldn't want to stare at her for hours? "And Spencer brought it up I swear. He said he had no idea what gift to give his secret santa and I asked who it is, saying maybe I could help. He said I absolutely could and admitted that he picked Amanda. I said she was really easy to buy gifts for because she's very appreciative and thankful, but he said he was drawing a blank and things would be much easier if he picked Tommy instead. And I so casually let it slip that I got Tommy's name..."

 

"You took advantage!"

 

"Hey, it was a fair trade! He got who he wanted to pick, and I got Amanda. It was a win-win," she says, defending her action. "Besides, I got Amanda the perfect gift." Chanse rolls his eyes at that. "So please help me make sure she actually gets it."

 

She touched Chanse's arm and brought out her secret weapon, being teary-eyed. "Please, Chanse. I need this to go well."

 

"Damn, you're using your manipulative skills. You really must want her to get this gift."

 

"I really do."

 

Realization suddenly dawns on Chanse, and for the second time that night, he looked like a scandalized Southern woman. "You're going to tell her, aren't you?" She didn't answer, but she held his gaze.

 

A silent understanding passed between Chanse and Angela, and she knew that he was in.

 

"You better have a girlfriend by this time tomorrow or I swear to god I will make Damien kiss you one more time so that Amanda acts stupid again."

 

Angela feels the tension leave her body as she laughs at Chanse's statement. Hopefully, things go according to her plan. She just needs a little bit of luck.

 

---

 

Of course things didn't go according to her plan.

 

When Ian called Amanda to get her gift from the table, Angela made sure to start a conversation with Arasha so that she doesn't give away any indication that she was the one who picked Amanda. It was a good thing that everyone would open the gifts at the same thing. She was able to hold off her nerves for a while. 

 

When Amanda returned to her seat beside Angela, they didn't speak. Angela just gives the taller woman a thumbs up and goes back to talking with Arasha. 

 

Amanda didn't seem to mind, though. She even placed her hand on the small of her back. Angela shivered when she felt the warmth of her hand. She nodded at whatever Arasha was saying, too distracted now to understand her story.

 

"You okay, honey?" Amanda whispers, concerned. 

 

She turns to her, hoping that she wasn't blushing. Hell, she probably was. Hopefully she could lie out of her ass and say that it was the alcohol. "Yeah, just a bit cold."

 

Their eyes meet, and a silent conversation happened. Suddenly, Amanda was so much closer, and both of her arms wrapped around Angela's waist.

 

Angela swears she almost fainted. Thankfully, Arasha was done with her story, so Angela was able to give her final comments and pretend that Amanda being wrapped around her was normal. 

 

No one would faint from too much skin contact, right? That would be embarassing. Unfortunately, embarassing things happened to Angela more often than not. All she hoped for at the moment was Amanda not being able to hear how fast her heart was beating.

 

Thankfully, everyone finally got their gifts, and the White Elephant gift exchange started.

 

Almost instantly, chaos ensued. Angela tried her best to keep still, but when Ian said that no one could refuse the gift swaps and cannot complain, she very loudly says "Oh that's so unfair!"

 

"Well deal with it, Angela," Ian answers. "Life's not fair." Angela flips him off, and everyone laughs. He then tells everyone to open the gifts, which meant Amanda had to move. 

 

As soon as her arms left Angela's body, she felt her breath returning to normal. Thank fucking god. 

 

 

She tried to focus on the task at hand, which was opening her gift. She tried her best not to look at Amanda, who was very carefully unwrapping the best present Angela has ever given anyone.

 

 

"Oh my god!" Amanda exclaims, visibly stunned. Angela let herself look, and her heart leaps at the image of Amanda smiling so widely, her dimple protruding out of her cheek. "This is amazing," she hears her say. Angela smiles almost as widely Amanda did. "I fucking love elephants," she exclaims as she proudly shows off the elephant painting she was holding.

 

Suddenly, Amanda looks straight at Angela and says, "Whoever gave this to me..."  she trails a little bit, still admiring her gift. "I love it... I love you."

 

Angela could have sworn that time stopped right then. Did she somehow know that Angela was her secret santa? 

 

Did Amanda know that Angela painted this elephant for her?

 

Before even thinking about it, Angela prepared to open her mouth, wanting to ask Amanda if she knew.

 

However, as if the world knew what she was going to do, she was interrupted.

 

"Alright, everyone! Time for swaps. Remember, no refusing and no complain- Oh fuck you, Shayne!" Ian says into the mic. He was the first victim of the swap as his original gift, a replica of a prop from some movie, was switched with several video game CDs.

 

"You did this to yourself!" Shayne shouts, backing away. "Learn your lesson the hard way, stupid." 

 

Angela wanted to laugh, but she was so nervous. She only hoped that since her gift to Amanda wasn't something everyone wanted meant it was safe.

 

Amanda, on the other hand, was already formulating a plan in her mind. No one was going to take this painting away from her. She'd rather drink a tuna milkshake before she hands it over.

 

Angela and Amanda remained seated, watching silently as the chaos continued. They watched as Spencer ran around, trying to make sure no one swaps with him. Court and Olivia were off to one side, the former trying to convince the latter to give up her gift in exchange for expensive alcohol.

 

Somehow, they remained untouched. Angela with her Wicked themed Crocs, which she was sure no one wanted anyway, and Amanda with her elephant painting.

 

Ian shouted out a warning, "Last twenty seconds for the swap!"

 

Angela could feel her anxiety leaving her body. They were safe. No one wanted to steal Amanda's gift. She would be able to confess to Amanda that she painted it and also tell her how she feels.

 

She almost breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Until she saw Anthony walking over, his gaze fixed on the painting. 

 

Alarm sirens started blaring off inside Angela's head. How the fuck was she supposed to stop Anthony?

 

Maybe she should tell Amanda it was her painting. Or maybe she could grab the painting and run. That wouldn't be so stupid, would it?

 

 

Her mind kept coming up with insane ideas until she heard a heaving sound beside her.

 

 

She looked at the person on her left and was confused at the sight. Amanda covered her mouth with a hand. She made a heaving sound again.

 

Something was off, Angela thought. Amanda hasn't had enough alcohol to be puking. She did not even finish her second glass. Unless she had a stomach bug, there was no possible reason for Amanda to be sick and puking this early into a drinking night.

 

The realization suddenly hit Angela like a truck. She understood what Amanda was doing.

 

Taking the cue from Amanda, Angela played the role of the concerned best friend. "Oh my god, Amanda! Are you okay?" Angela could have sworn that Amanda's eyes were shining when she joined in on the bit. "Are you going to throw up?" she asks loudly, wanting to get everyone's attention.

 

That seemed to do the trick. Suddenly, almost everyone was telling Angela to bring Amanda to the bathroom.

 

"Dude, I don't want to see Amanda vomit. Gross!" Anthony says before backing away. His intention to steal away the gift forgotten. Angela almost smiled.

 

Amanda made a heaving sound again, and Angela got to work. "There is no way she is going to stay here," she announces. "I'm taking her home."

 

A few looks were exchanged, but Angela pretended not to notice. Thankfully, no one voiced out their disagreement.

 

She grabbed the painting from Amanda's hands and put it back into the paper bag, took Amanda's purse, and put a hand on her back, as if to guide her.

 

Amanda, being the amazing actress that she was, let herself be guided. She removed her hand from her mouth for a second as she mouthed "sorry" to Ian, who watched her and Angela as they walked towards the door. 

 

Courtney, god bless their heart, shouted, "Get some rest, Movie Mandy! See you on Monday!" Amanda had to stop herself from smiling. Instead, she gave them a little wave and hoped that everyone believed that she really was about to throw up.

 

Amanda and Angela held their breaths until they were at a safe distance away from Ian's house. They did way too much to be caught now. As if having an understanding, nobody spoke until they reached the door of Amanda's car.

 

The moment Amanda and Angela looked at each other, they both grinned like idiots. And then suddenly, laughs filled the air of that cold December night.

 

"That. Was. Insane." The words barely come out of Amanda's mouth. She was laughing so uncontrollably, leaning on her car so she doesn't eat shit. "Everyone believed it!"

 

"Did you see Anthony's face?" Angela asks, almost doubling over in laughter. "I don't wanna see Amanda vomit! Aaaah!" She makes a horrible Anthony impression, but it makes Amanda laugh even more.

 

"You do know you're never going to live this down, right?" she asks the taller girl as she wipes the tears that she got from laughing so hard. "Everyone's going to call you vomit girl."

 

Amanda shrugs. "Eh. I don't care."

 

"Dude, vomit. girl. That's horrible. I can't believe you did that!"

 

Amanda starts laughing again. "I panicked, okay? I saw Anthony coming for your painting, and I did the best I could to stop him!"

 

A warm smile spreads across Angela's face when she hears this. So she did know. "How'd you know?"

 

 

"Hmmm?" Amanda asks, only now coming down from the laughing fits.

 

 

"You knew I painted this," Angela points at the painting that was now safely in its paper bag. "How?"

 

 

Amanda gives her a pointed look. "Honey."

 

 

"What?" It was a fair question. Angela didn't write her name or anything.

 

 

"Honey, you're the only person I know who would put so much work into a gift for me," she answers, as if declaring the obvious. "Plus, you and I talked in depth about my obsession with elephants after that What Would Amanda Do shoot. It was like the only thing you didn't know about me, and you were pissed."

 

Angela nods, fondly remembering how they stayed at the Smosh office way later than they usually do because the elephant fact fascinated her and she wanted to know everything about this girl in front of her.

 

Suddenly, the moon casts a glow on Amanda that made it hard for Angela to breathe. She's beautiful, Angela thinks, filled with the sudden urge to kiss her. 

 

"Angela?" Amanda's voice breaks her out of her daze.

 

Angela started fiddling with her fingers, anxiety starting to bloom inside her. Was she staring so intently that it made Amanda uncomfortable? "Y-yes?"

 

There was something in Amanda's look that Angela couldn't place, and it was making her heart go wild. She was also taking way too long to respond, and it was making Angela think crazy thoughts, like pulling Amanda into a kiss and asking her to come home with her.

 

"There's something I want to give you, too," Amanda says softly, still staring into her eyes. "Is that okay?"

 

"You got me a gift, too?" Amanda nods. "Oh my god, really?" 

 

 

Angela held out her hand like a child, gesturing for Amanda to give it. 

 

Seconds felt like hours as Angela waited for Amanda to hand over her gift. 

 

What the hell is going on? Angela thinks. Amanda's just staring at me. She was about to speak again when Amanda lets out a breath that she seems to be holding on to for so long.

 

Suddenly, Angela felt herself being pulled by the waist.

 

The moment their lips touched, Angela melted. It was everything she dreamed this moment would be. Amanda's arm was around her waist, keeping her close and assuring her she was safe. God, she loved Amanda so much.

 

Angela sighed into her lips, and Amanda swears she could have passed out right there. Finally, she thinks.

 

The two remained enveloped in each other's arms as their lips explored each other, pulling Amanda and Angela even lower down this rabbit hole of them.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Amanda pulls away. She gave the shorter girl a solid peck before using her finger to wipe away the lipstick smudge above her lips.

 

Angela's face was burning, and Amanda grins. She could feel a blush across her cheek as well, but she was determined to take control of the situation. Angela was most likely to start gay panicking any moment now, and Amanda knew it was up to her to keep them grounded.

 

"I'm in love with you, Angela," she says earnestly, deciding that being straightforward was the best thing to do. "I have been for a while now, actually." Angela's jaw drops, and Amanda continued. No going back now. "You don't have to say anything. You don't have to feel the same way. I just had to shoot my shot, you know? I could blame my impulsive act on the alcohol or on jealousy, but I know it's neither. Just now, when we were laughing at the stupid stunt I pulled, I was hit with the overwhelming feeling of happiness. It's us versus everyone else, you know? It has always been that way, I think, and I hope it remains that way forever. I'd love nothing more than to pull stupid stunts with you and then laugh at everyone else believing my shit and then..." Amanda suddenly stops, second thinking the next part, but she decides to go for it. "And then ending the night with a kiss or two."

 

This confession made her skin tingle, and Amanda knew that Angela could only react in two ways. She waited patiently for Angela's response, holding her gaze as she continues to stare at Amanda.

 

Finally, Angela talks. "You're in love with me?" 

 

The wind was knocked out of Amanda's lungs. This was either going to be the worst or the best night of her life.

 

"Yes," she answers honestly. 

 

A beat passed before Angela started talking again "You're in love with me, and the best gift you thought to give me was a kiss?!" she asks in disbelief, which made Amanda's jaw drop. "I painted you a fricking elephant!" And then she starts giggling, melting away Amanda's anxiety. "Dude, you said you sucked at giving gifts, I did not know it was this bad!"

 

"Hey!" Amanda exclaims. "I am a good kisser!" But she was laughing now, too, extremely aware that Angela was just teasing. 

 

 

"The kiss was absolutely good! Best kiss of my life, honestly. But it's not a gift!"

 

 

Amanda loves when they banter like this. It was one of the reasons why she fell for Angela. Whatever she does, Angela does, too. They always give the same energy, and it was amazing. Grinning, Amanda tells her, "Well give my gift back then. I'll give you something better."

 

 

Angela stops laughing suddenly, and Amanda feels herself being pulled for the second time that night.

 

"Amanda," Angela calls out. "If we're going to date..." Angela was wearing high heels, which almost made her only a few inches shorter than her. Amanda feels her breath on her skin. She was standing too close. Her brain felt like it was short circuiting, kissing Angela the only coherent thought running around her mind. Angela's thumb trailed softly from her cheek, stopping at her lower lip before she continues. "... then kisses cannot be counted as gifts. Because I want to be kissing you every second of every day."

 

Angela was the one to close the distance between them this time, claiming Amanda's lips as if it was her birthright. It might as well be with how willing Amanda was to give everything she has so they could stay in this moment forever.

 

Kissing Angela felt like coming home, and Amanda, after years of searching for the place where she belongs, finally found where she was meant to be all along. 

 

Moments later, when they both realized someone could come out of Ian's house, they decided to go inside the car and actually leave. 

 

Silence filled the car as both girls had reddened cheeks and puffy lips. They were both in bliss and happy, and as Amanda's free hand reached for Angela's, both knew that this would be the start of the rest of their lives forever.

 

"Does giving you my heart count as a gift?"

 

Angela laughs, and it fills Amanda's body with warmth. 

 

"It does, but you should know I'm never giving it back," she answers cheekily. She even sticks her tongue out for good measure. "It's mine now, Manda."

 

Amanda pulls Angela's hand close to her lips and kisses it. Angela almost cries at how intimate it is.

 

"Honey, my heart's been yours for a long time."

 

At that moment, Angela decides that even though it was only December 7, it was already the best Christmas ever.

 

---

 

Back at Ian's house, three people were staring intently at their phones, immersed and focused but with playful smiles on their faces.

 

Tommy:

And the Oscar for the worst fake drunk performance goes to... Amanda Lehan-Canto!

 

Chanse:

I seriously cannot believe they pulled that shit! Like nobody actually believed Amanda was going to puke, right?

And Angela had the audacity to jump in and help her, that sneaky biatch!

Court:

It was really sweet, my guys. You have to admit.

Think they finally got their shit figured out?

 

Tommy:

Oh, they better! Jealous Amanda was a whole different demon. Did you see the way she was glaring at Damien? Miss girl isn't playing when it comes to her feral guinea pig.

 

Chanse:

Angela and I talked about it earlier, and I said that if they aren't together by tomorrow, I'll make Damien kiss her again to see Amanda act even more stupid until she confesses.

I need them to start dating so I could stop listening to the whining of two women who are both obviously in love with each other but keep trying to disguise the things they do as friendly. What do you mean you have Thursday bestie dinner every week where you try out new places and give each other flowers? Girl, that's called a date, and that bestie wants to kiss you. Get up!

 

Court:

To be fair, Shayne and I had those too.

 

Tommy:

And you had a very lovely wedding, Court.

 

Court:

OH. MY. GOD.

THEY'RE ABSOLUTELY GOING TO GET MARRIED.

Should we start pitching wedding hashtags now?

 

Chanse:

Spork's going to be the ring bearer, won't he?

 

Tommy:

I CANNOT wait to grill Mandy about this. GAY PRIDE! 

 

Court:

Gay always wins <3

[baby-tini]

Dabi thinks you ran away... when really, you got a tattoo dedicated to yours truly.

TW: implied kidnapping, Dabi gets a little rough with reader

He thought he told you too be a good girl, behave for him. He told you he'd be back in a couple of hours, it wouldn't be long... so why the hell did you run, you've been so good for him recently, so why the sudden change, hm?... unless, no.. you weren't kidnapped, no one knows your here but Dabi and you of course. So that means you did run... you ungrateful little bitch, after everything he's done for you... ooh you're gonna get more than a well-deserved ass whooping, he'll make sure of it. But then he hears the door open and he's shooting towards it and sees you walking in.

"Where the fuck were you," he grabs you up by your arm. "After all the shit I do for you, you fucking run from me," he shakes you by your shoulders and his pupils dilate. Coal swallowing up cobalt whole. As he continues to ramble on- you kiss him, to shut him up. It takes a moment for him to retaliate, grabbing your hand in his fist to pull you closer, shoving his tongue down your throat as he grabs hold of your throat. Pulling back a little- you turn your face to the left and he kisses your cheek.

"Didn't runaway Dabi, promise... I got something for you.." He sneers at that, "don't lie to me, what did you do, huh? Bribe some fuckin' heros or somethin'." You shake your head at him, pushing back against his chest. Stepping around him to go into the kitchen, grabbing yourself a drink before walking back over to Dabi and wrapping your arms around him, burying your face into his chest, rubbing your nose up and down his clavicle.

"I got somethin' for you, I didn't runaway... I just got it done today." You pull back from him as you look into his eyes, big and glossy with a fat pout. He tilts his head at you, rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip, pressing down on it, he swirls his thumb around your tongue then pressing down on it as your spit drips down your chin and kisses your neck, "show me then."

You grin up at him, "okay, close your eyes then.." He rolls his eyes before backing away and closing his eyes. You let a sweet little giggle bubble from your lips as you turn around, your back facing him. Pulling up your shirt and allowing it to slip off your head you toss it the floor. Revealing the tattoo on your lower back, just above your ass.

"You can open your eyes now," he does, moving closer to you. His eyes landing on the tattoo, It's cute and holds meaning for you both, It's a reasonable sized heart surrounded by blue flames with the word "Babydoll" written inside the heart. Ahh, he sees what you've done, his blue flames surround your heart and he calls you babydoll all the time, you always do respond real well to that pet name. Then it hits him, "where the fuck did you get the money for this, hm? You fuck the tattoo artist and you better pray I don't find him."

Shaking your head at him, "It wasn't a guy Dabi... a female friend of mine who owns the shop owed me a couple favors and before you ask, no, I didn't tell her where we are, she didn't even ask.. I promise." He bends you over the table, feeling the tattoo through the translucent saniderm. Then sticks his tongue in his cheek before he huffs out, "I'm still gonna punish you for leaving-" he feels you tense "-but... not as severely as I was originally going too... plus I just found my new favorite thing to cum on."

The tattoo looks something like this just a little bigger with "babydoll" written in the heart.

[hellfirecvnt]

Teacher Work Day

Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 3

Summary: "Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?"

Notes: Whoops. This one's long. Idk why I keep doing that lmao.

Part one here. // Part two here. // Part four here. // Part five here.

The next day, the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, you show up hungover as all hell. You groan out a pained sound as you step inside the school underneath the bright, fluorescent lights. They claw and beat on your skull with every pulse of your heart. Your sunglasses do little to stifle the ache.

"Hey!" A voice that's far too excited for your liking. Whereas you're usually a tame person, this hellacious hangover has you out of character. "I just wanted to introduce myself to the new secretary. I'm Bill Hayden."

"My God, you are awake, aren't you?" You do your best to smile, peeling the useless sunglasses from your face. Across the foyer, watching from the large glass wall of his office, Gamby holds a phone to his ear. Lee's voice chimes a greeting from the other end.

"You're gonna be pissed if you get here too late and Bill fucking Hayden's made his move on Ms. Y/L/N." He taunts.

"Yeah, maybe I can show you around town sometime. Show you all the cool spots," he says with a smooth laugh. The young teacher's try-hard flirting is enough to make you gag, hangover or not.

"I just heard him offer to show her around town." Neal shakes his head.

"What are you talking about?" Lee ponders, sounding obviously stressed.

"Bill Hayden is making a pass at Y/L/N. Where are you?" Gamby's voice becomes urgent.

"I fuckin' told your stupid ass I had to meet with the lawyers today."

"I thought you said your divorce was finalized," he says, still watching as you wait for Bill to stop talking.

"Yeah, they usually like to get paid after they do that for you, dumbass. I'll be there in 20 minutes." He's about to hang up until Neal starts talking again.

"She's probably only talking to him because I told her you were into her, but when she asked you out, you said no."

"What?"

"It's okay, I told her that you are probably not into her anymore." Neal nods, pleased with his own actions for some reason.

"Gamby, what the hell? Why?"

"What do you mean 'why?' She asked you out and you said no. Did you want me to lie?"

"I want you to stop fucking talking!" Lee hangs up and tosses his cell phone into the back seat of his car as he drives down the highway. "Bill Hayden, you shifty little bitch."

He whips through a local coffee shop, because fuck Starbucks, and grabs some coffees for whoever. He just doesn't want to show up empty handed after Neal has taken to intruding on his dynamic with you. He quickly throws the car in park and speed walks inside with a peculiar amount of energy in his hips.

When Lee walks through the door, your face lights up. It doesn't go unnoticed. For just a second, Lee's eyebrows threaten to knit as he watches your expression change. He wonders if he underestimated his chances with you.

"Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N," he chimes, leaving one of the hot drinks on your desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Russell." You grin, genuinely thankful for the caffeine that you're praying will set you right for the rest of the day.

"Why don't you come with me, darlin'? If I don't claim you now, you'll be stuck running bullshit errands for Gamby." A wave of relief washes over you as he says this. You whisper a quick thank you and slip out from behind your desk. After grabbing your coffee, the two of you head down the hall.

You reach a set of double doors and as he holds it open for you, a student walks in. You're still learning names, but you recognize him as Todd. A freshman that loses his phone and has to come to the office to pick it up relatively often.

"Todd, honey, you can't be here," you say in your soft, teacher voice.

"Todd Frechett, what are you doing here?" Lee interrupts.

"I'm going to school." The short, blond kid looks around, confused.

"It's teacher work day, we did announcements about it every day this week. Go home." Lee shifts his weight onto his hip, waiting for the student to exit.

"But my mom's not home and the door's locked."

"Okay, well, then go bowling or play stupid video games, or go masturbate in your car- whatever it is that teenage boys do." He explains. "You can't be here."

"Uhh, uh-" he seems genuinely at a loss for what to do.

"No, no, no. Not 'Uh, uh, uh.' Go home." He finishes, shoving Todd out the doors he came through. "Open this door, open the next door. Open the door after that."

Lee and the student go back and forth for a while as the kid walks away, exiting the school.

"We need a day without children please!"

"Alright!" He shouts back, the door closing behind him, ending the interaction.

"Um, Lee. I don't think you're allowed to say half the shit you just said to that kid." You look at him with concern, sipping your caffeinated drink as the two of you continue walking.

"He won't remember it tomorrow. Kid's got ADHD and two Christian hippies for parents." Lee's words confuse you and you nearly get a headache trying to decipher what he means.

"So, you were a little late today." You change the subject. "Everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It was nothing." He shrugs. Nothing, you repeat inside your head. Nothing kept him from having a drink with you last night, he just didn't want to and that's fine. You try to bury your embarrassment under a smile, knowing it'll pass in a short while. Rejection is part of the human experience.

"So, uh, listen. About those drinks," Lee starts. He's got a stupid smile on his face as if he's almost in disbelief that he's already finding himself speaking so boldly to you. The divorce had been drawn out for a while, his feelings for his ex-wife have long since fizzled. But it just seems so fast. Too good to be true.

"Oh, please. No worries. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm still not allowed to talk to teachers, I think. I just didn't want to drink alone," you say, hoping to ignore the situation and allow your humiliation to fade out with dignity. You let out a fake laugh.

"No, I mean, this weekend. Maybe you and I could get those drinks." Strangely enough, his palms sweat with nerves.

"Drinks this weekend? I'm in. This week has already been a shit show," Gamby appears from seemingly nowhere. "Y/L/N, grab a clipboard-"

"Not today, Gamby. She's the secretary, not your personal assistant. Get an ISS kid to do it." Lee waves him off.

"Fine. Payday drinks this Friday. I'm in." Neal snatches one of the coffees from Lee and takes off down the hall. There is no way out of it, as arguing with him is like negotiating with a brick, you might as well accept that Gamby will be crashing your date.

You and Lee share a knowing look and he rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh.

"At least we know it'll be a fun evening," you chuckle.

"I'm certain he will turn the night into a shit show the minute we get there, but sure. It'll be interesting."

The rest of the week is filled with nonsense and plotting from your two higher ups. They can barely seem to agree on anything until Neal learns that Dr. Brown has a history of alcoholism. The three of you gather in Lee's office.

"That's perfect, Gamby. Invite her out to payday drinks, we'll knock that bitch right off the fucking wagon." Lee looks elated.

"I hate to rain on your parade, Lee. But if she's been sober for this long, there's a high chance she'll say 'no' to going out and drinking," you chime in.

"Listen. That bitch is going down one way or another. Let's just invite her to dinner and see where it goes," Lee stares deeply into your eyes and you almost forget to respond.

"Y/N's gonna have to show up separate from us. Brown doesn't fraternize with staff under her VPs," Neal injects.

"Okay, well. Don't call yourself a VP. That sounds too important," you sneer.

"Too impor-? I am important."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you see yourself as like a Vice President or something." You can't help but tease.

"I'm close enough. I'm fuckin'... Vice President of this school." Neal fumes.

"Whatever, whatever. I'll be there before you guys get there. I can't let my bosses know how high my tolerance is anyways." You shrug and the two men look at each other for a moment and then back to you.

"Go see what she says, Gamby, and report back," Lee instructs and Neal just about listens to him, but then he stops in his tracks and turns back around.

"You've been sending me off a lot. Bossin' me around. Makes me think you might think you're in charge or something." He squints his eyes. "Or are you just trying to get some alone time with Y/N even though you rejected her and she drank alone about it last night?"

"Je-sus Christ, Gamby." You stare down at the floor in front of you with wide eyes and a flushed face.

"Will you please get the fuck out of here?" Lee pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go, go!" He ushers Neal out the door, closing it behind him. Lee returns to his seat behind his desk and glances up at you where you stand, smiling from the embarrassment and humor of the entire situation.

"He's the fuckin' worst, right?" You chuckle, only half joking with that statement. You take a seat across from his desk. "I was going to drink anyways, by the way. It wasn't because you weren't there." Lee laughs at your clarification.

"A fucking idiot, just an absolutely stupid motherfucker. I'm bewildered," he huffs, leaning back in his chair.

"I guess I'll get back to the desk. Mrs. Frechett will probably be calling us after a while." You straighten the stapler on Lee's desk and he watches your delicate hand as you do it. Just as you're taking a step toward the door, he speaks.

"What if I did just like being around you? Alone? Would that make you uncomfortable?" His words cause heat to rise in your face, you feel it all the way to your ears. He's posed his question like a hypothetical, but you're no fool.

"Gross," you say in jest with little thought at all. Lee's face immediately drops to one of confusion. "Oh, my God. I'm kidding. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." You shake your head, clearly taken aback by your own actions. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable at all, Lee. You're the best part of my day, usually."

"Usually?" He questions as an uncontrollable smile creeps onto his face.

"Yeah, sometimes Neal just sweeps me off my feet. All that shit about leadership definitely does it for me." You fan yourself, playfully. Lee can't help but laugh, utterly charmed. Time slows down, it seems, as the two of you laugh together. In the same moment he allows himself to feel comfortable with you, his mind is flooded with doubts and anxieties.

He and his ex-wife, Christine, haven't been divorced for long, but the marriage itself was over long ago. His feelings for her are all but a memory. What troubles him now is the fear of being left again. No, not in an overdramatic, help him feel whole again type of way. It's just a lingering fear. When Christine left, it was hard on him. With the divorce freshly finalized, he wonders if he can handle the stress of doing it all again should something go wrong.

The next day, after the school day concludes, you leave work and head home to get ready to meet the guys and Dr. Brown for drinks, staging it as an accidental run-in. After changing into some comfortable, casual clothes, you make your way to the bar.

To your satisfaction, none of the cars in the lot are recognizable. You park on the far side in the darker corner, hoping your car doesn't stand out too much. Inside the bar you order two drinks, slamming them down as quickly as possible before your coworkers arrive.

"Ms. Y/L/N? Is that you?" Principal Brown's smooth voice rings behind you. You turn around, flashing a face of convincing shock.

"Dr. Brown! Oh my goodness!" You chime, reaching to bring her in for a friendly hug. "Let me buy you a drink!"

"No thank you, Y/N. Now, you all know I don't drink," she laughs warmly. A sense of pride in her words. You begin to wonder if opening your mouth is the right thing to do, but after one glance at Lee, you do it anyway.

"I hear you, ma'am. I have a terrible history with drinking as well," you admit, only half lying. Is it really history if you're still drinking? Oh well. Brown's eyes go wide as she takes in your words. "I was clean as a whistle and straight edge as they come for years after initially getting sober." You finish your third drink. "But then I realized that if I have to force myself to not even look at the bottle, then alcohol still controls my life. Moderation is what I strive for."

You set the glass down on the bar and shrug with a smile, insinuating that it's your first drink of the night.

"Moderation, B. It's a beautiful thing," Lee announces, having just ordered a round of shots. "I know that whole book fiasco got you down. Leblanc fuckin' humiliated you at that tribunal."

Belinda seems to weigh her options before snatching the last remaining shot, and joining the group as you all toss it back. She releases a hyper sound, whooping like a sports fan as the clear, burning liquid enters her system for the first time in years.

"Yeah, Dr. Brown!" You cheer, signaling for another round. Round after round, with fruity cocktails in between, even Lee and Neal find themselves more buzzed than planned, but you're still stone-faced. Dr. Brown wavers on the cusp of belligerent and blackout.

You and Lee step outside to have a cigarette, mostly to escape the overwhelming nature of a drunk Dr. Brown.

"Did you really have a drinking problem?" Lee asks, wanting to dissect how much of your monologue was just a performance.

"Shit, I think I have a drinking problem right now," you joke. "Nah, that was all bullshit." He bursts into laughter, impressed by your quick-witted nature.

"Sure wasn't hard to convince her, huh?" Lee gestures to the door where a drunken Principal Brown terrorizes the locals.

"Not at all. She was basically grabbing the glass while I was still talking."

"I really appreciate your help, Y/N," he speaks softly. "Gamby's a fucking idiot, there's no way we'd make it this far if it weren't for you."

"Thanks, Lee," you smile with pride. You look down at your hands as a thick silence grows between you. "The other day, when you were late to work, did you really have something to do, or was it an elaborate rejection? I've learned you're pretty elaborate."

Lee sighs.

"Y/N, I'm newly divorced. My wife left me one day... Unexpectedly." He knows that's a lie and he's pretty sure you know that too. "I was paying my lawyers, filling out paperwork." He shrugs, waving his hand around as if to dismiss the matter.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Except you can do all of that over your phone nowadays." You lean against the railing outside the bar.

"I know, I just-" he searches for anything to say besides admitting it scared him to pursue you so quickly.

"So you could've had a drink with me after all," you smirk, reading his hesitation. Understanding his explanation, even if you've never been in that situation.

"Guess so," he mirrors your smile, slowly drawing closer and closer to you. Before either of you are aware, you're nearly pressed against each other. Lee's chest rises and falls at a rapid rate and you watch his eyes dance back and forth from your eyes to your lips. Your face feels hot and the heat only grows more intense until you finally close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

His well-tended hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him, and deepening your kiss. You reach your arms around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as your heads move in sync, albeit sloppily. Lee's grasping at any part of you he can, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your breathing quickens and a small moan escapes your mouth until you hear something strange and pull away.

"Lee."

"What?" He sounds annoyed to have lost contact with your mouth.

"Did you just hear Belinda say a slur?" You squint as if it'll help you hear better. At that moment, the door flies open and Brown is quite literally thrown out the door, Gamby close behind.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Gamby!" Lee exclaims, laughing maniacally at Brown's physical state.

"Oh, fuck. My purse is inside!" You run to the door and beg for them to let you inside just to grab your belongings. They're hesitant, but after seeing you so coherent, they let you in to recover your things, demanding that you leave right after. You show no protest and quickly make your getaway as promised.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you scan your surroundings for your group, more importantly, Lee. They're a few blocks down the sidewalk doing something you're not close enough to decipher. As you speed walk up to them, you realize Dr. Brown is standing on top of a cop car and...

"Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?" Your jaw drops.

"Fucking pig!" Belinda chants as she urinates down the windshield of the police cruiser. Lee makes sure to gather every bit of evidence he can, while Gamby stands off to the side, looking a little guilty. You understand his empathy, but you crave Lee's approval over social acceptance and that's just something you've come to terms with. Maybe you're not so far off from him on the crazy scale.

Right after her golden shower, Principal Brown passes out, tumbling down the front of the cruiser.

"Oh, shit!" Gamby runs to help her up.

"Cut me out of that shit, I want no part in it," you point to Lee with a serious expression.

"I need to get her home, ASAP." Gamby says, helping her to her feet.

"I'll drive Lee home. You get her to a bed." You shake your head, leaving the men to help Dr. Brown to Gamby's car. You jog over to your own vehicle in the dark corner you parked in and fumble with your keys, finally feeling your buzz. Worst timing ever.

"Let's see that purse," an unfamiliar voice speaks from behind you. You turn around with a raised brow and see a tall, skinny man in a hoodie, hiding his facial features. In the shadows, you can still see his pale hands as he lunges toward you.

"What the fuck?!" You attempt to fight the man off as he tugs on the strap of your purse. He wrestles it off your shoulder and the two of you play a sort of tug of war. "Fuck off!" You scream, echoing through the parking lot.

"Was that Y/N?" Lee's head pops up from the car he's helping Belinda into.

"I heard it too," Neal scans the parking lot.

"Let go!" You wail, out of sight. Neal rummages through his center console and then takes off toward the sound of your voice. Lee's not far behind, squinting his eyes to attempt to see further into the darkness. "I swear to fucking God when I get my concealed carry license switched over-"

"Hey!" Lee's voice booms across the lot as they close in on you. The man quickly releases your back, causing you to jerk and stumble backward, falling to the ground with a hard thud. Lee runs to your aid while Neal, broken out in a full drunken sprint, hunts down the assailant and bashes him once in the back of the head with his brass knuckles.

"Hey, you okay?" Lee kneels beside you, placing a soft hand on either side of your face, searching you for wounds. "Did he hurt you?" He asks with an eccentric amount of worry.

"No, dude. He couldn't even get the bag out of my hands," you break into a laugh and he joins you, just from the relief of seeing you okay. Eventually, Neal returns with his brass knuckles ever so slightly bloody. It was less about defending you and more about getting to use his new brass knuckles.

"The thief has been taken care of," Gamby says with his eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Gamby, did you just kill that man?" You ask, shocked.

"No, but I could've." He walks away without another word, heading out to drive Dr. Brown home. You climb into your driver's seat and Lee slips into the passenger side. It's quiet for just a moment before you speak up.

Maybe it's the alcohol and adrenaline talking, but you do very little to stop it. You bite your lip before finally speaking up.

"Lee?" He looks at you, buzzed and smiling. "Do you want to come back to my place?"

(Part 4 coming soon!)

•••

Taglist: @its-in-the-woods // @justme12200 // @sixx-writes // @littlenosoul // @itsyellow // @blackwoodtree

[xxoxobree]

Gentle

Miles G. x Fem!Reader.

Summary: With no one else Miles turns to you his best friend to patch him up again.

WARNINGS: Cussing , Mentions of Blood.

A/n: As Always don’t steal my shit!!! Happy reading. Comment 🫶🏽🫶🏽 I’m begging

The taste of iron lingered in Miles' mouth as he spat on the floor, looking at the blood-stained spit as he wiped his mouth, clutching his shoulder. Another fight, it seemed like he couldn't stay out of trouble now. He made his way to the nearest car to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the window. A busted lip and a few scratches that trickled a bit of blood. He sucked his teeth, frustrated with the injuries.

Miles rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't go home looking like this. If his Mom saw him, he'd be grounded for weeks. Mimicking his mom's words as he walked, he muttered, "Miles, if you fight again, you'll be grounded for a month." He sucked his teeth again, realizing that Uncle Aaron was off the table too; he would definitely snitch on him.

Feeling helpless, Miles knew there was no one else he could turn to but you, the person who always patched him up after every fight. The thought of going to you again, especially after the last time when he had promised he wouldn't fight, made his face drop. He let out a heavy sigh before picking up his pace,headed to your house.

You were in your room at your desk just about done with the latest essay your English teacher, Mr. J, had assigned, when there was a soft knock on your window that immediately caught your attention. You looked at the window, seeing Miles waving at you, his lip redder than usual. You quickly got up to open the window.

"Again Miles?" you said, concern lacing your words as you got a better view of his injuries when he made it into the room.

"I know, princess. I'm sorry," he said, sighing heavily as he sat down on your bed. You quickly searched through your nightstand for your first aid kit to patch him up. You grabbed his chin, tilting his head up towards you to examine his cuts and bruises.

"Miles, you've got to stop fighting," you said, opening up the kit to grab the alcohol wipes.

"Shut up, you like it when I get hurt," he said, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face, making you roll your eyes. You began to patch him up gently.

"We both know it's true," he said, his grin widening.

"Shut up and sit still so I can clean you up," you said, a small smile resting on your lips.

Make me." He said, wiggling his head out of your grip, making you smile. You sighed and rolled your eyes, dabbing the blood off of his lip.

"You're too gentle, you know that?" He chuckled, looking up at you as you continued to tend to his wounds.

"You whine like a baby, so I have to be," you giggled, almost done with patching him up.

"You don't have to," he smirked, "but you are because you like me," he laughed.

You felt your heart speed up. It was true, you liked Miles, but he's your best friend and has been since the second grade.

"Yeah... Umm yeah, I do like you. We've been friends for a really long time," you stumbled over your words a bit, taking a seat next to him.

"That's not what I meant, y/n," he chuckled, leaning in playfully booping your nose.

You let out a sigh, flopping back on the bed, trying to avoid the conversation. Miles followed, leaning back, shimmying closer to you your faces now inches apart as he gazed at you admiring your features.

"Why were you fighting again?" you asked, curiosity and concern lacing your voice.

Miles smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Got into it with a few niggas 'cause I said something about their mamas," he said, his laughter filling the room.

You couldn't help but join in on the laughter. "Miles, why would you say that?" you said, shaking your head.

"Honestly," he said, looking up at you, "I was bored, and they were some bitch ass niggas. I thought it was funny." A mischievous grin spread across his face.

"And that's why they whooped you," you teased, playfully nudging him.

"They got a few hits in, but I definitely won that one."

"They fucked your braids up too," you said leaning over to play with his hair.

Miles sat on the edge of his bed, frustration etched across his face. He reached out and grabbed the mirror that sat on the nightstand, his eyes fixed on the reflection of his braids.

"Those bitch ass mfs," he grumbled under his breath, his fingers combing through the loose strands. He sighed and turned to you, a pleading look in his eyes. "Will you fix them for me, princesa?"

You looked at him, "Hmmm... Maybe." You teased

"Come onnn. I'll get you food, this weekend. Anything you want!"

"Iight bet. I want Chick-fil-A." You agreed

Miles rolled his eyes playfully, a smirk dancing on his face. "Fineee, I'll get your Chick-fil-A," he said, sighing in annoyance.

"Thank you, papa," you said, a wide smile spreading across your face.

"Don't call me that ever again, y/n." He said as he lay next to you again.

"Why not? It's cute, and your mom calls you that." You said a bit confused.

"You're soo annoyingggg," he playfully taunted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. But you could see the affection in his gaze, the genuine care he had for you. “I love how you try to put up this ,tough girl facade.” He chuckled. “Couldn’t be more soft if you tried.”

You locked eyes with Miles, raising an eyebrow. "Facade? I'm literally the toughest bitch you know," you said.

"Whatever you say, princesa," he smirked "But I have to say, it's a very cute facade."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Miles leaned over, his fingers softly stroking your hair.

Miles eyes flickered over yours, he loved these moments with just the two of you when you were authentically yourself caring and extra gentle just for him.

Your breath hitched as you closed your eyes, melting into his touch.  Looking down at you, a small laugh escaped Miles. "Like I said, super soft,". You playfully hit his chest, smile on your face. "Miless, stoppp," you said, trying to hide the way your cheeks burned now.

With a gentle grip, he grabbed your hands, removing them from your face. "Don't be shy now, princesa," Miles whispered, his voice laced with tenderness. He pulled you into his arms, a comforting hug that made you feel safe.

As he held you close, he gently lifted your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He gently  pressed his lips to yours, a soft kiss that spoke a million words.

Breaking away, he looked into your eyes, his voice filled with playfulness. "Still mad at me for fighting?"

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